Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy Review, Themes & Analysis (1878) : A 19th-Century Tragedy of Love, Morality, and Society

Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, first published in serial form from 1875 to 1877 in The Russian Messenger and then as a full novel in 1878, is a defining work of realist fiction. Translated into English by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky in 2002, this edition reintroduces modern readers to the complexity and lyrical power of Tolstoy’s voice. The novel consists of eight parts and 239 chapters, amounting to roughly 864 pages, making it one of the most celebrated epics of Russian literature.

Genre and Background

Anna Karenina belongs to the genre of realist fiction, often viewed as a psychological and social tragedy. Tolstoy once described it as his “first true novel” despite the earlier release of War and Peace, which he claimed was “not a novel as the West understands it”.

Anna Karenina explores themes of adultery, family, morality, passion, duty, and existential crisis, set against the backdrop of Imperial Russia during the reforms of Emperor Alexander II. The book’s epigraph, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay,” from Romans 12:19, casts a theological shadow over the entire work.

Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina is a masterful examination of human vulnerability and societal hypocrisy. It excels not only in its dramatic storytelling but also in the psychological insight it offers into relationships, faith, and existential despair.

Through the intersecting narratives of Anna, Vronsky, Levin, Kitty, and Karenin, Tolstoy lays bare the tragedy of alienation in a society that punishes passion while sanctifying propriety.

Plot Summary

“All happy families are alike…”

The novel opens with one of the most quoted lines in literary history: “All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” And from this instantly memorable sentence, Tolstoy plunges the reader into chaos—specifically, the domestic chaos of the Oblonsky household in Moscow. Prince Stepan Arkadyich Oblonsky (Stiva) has been caught having an affair with the governess. His wife, Darya Alexandrovna (Dolly), devastated by the betrayal, has locked herself away. The children are confused, the household staff is resigning, and Stiva—good-natured, charming, but ultimately shallow—finds himself unable to manage the emotional upheaval he has caused.

Despite his remorse, Stiva doesn’t truly repent. Instead, he is overwhelmed by the inconvenience of being found out. This moment sets the moral tone of Anna Karenina: a society that prioritizes appearance and pleasure over conscience and consequence.

To help resolve the domestic dispute, Stiva calls upon his sister, Anna Arkadyevna Karenina, who lives in St. Petersburg and is married to a high-ranking government official, Alexei Alexandrovich Karenin. Anna agrees to come to Moscow.

A Glimpse of True Love: Levin and Kitty

While the Oblonskys deal with betrayal, another thread of the story unfolds through Konstantin Dmitrich Levin, a landowner who has come to Moscow to propose marriage to Princess Kitty Shcherbatskaya, Dolly’s younger sister. Levin, sincere and emotionally awkward, is in stark contrast to the cosmopolitan Stiva. His love for Kitty is honest and grounded in deep admiration.

However, Kitty is smitten with Count Alexei Vronsky, a dashing military officer who seems to be courting her, and she turns down Levin’s proposal. This moment devastates Levin and sends him retreating back to the countryside, where he throws himself into his estate’s agricultural life—a sphere that increasingly reflects Tolstoy’s own ideals.

Anna and Vronsky: The Spark of a Dangerous Love

When Anna arrives in Moscow, she immediately wins the affection of everyone, including Kitty, who looks up to her with awe. Anna is beautiful, poised, and warm. But her entrance into Kitty’s social circle sets off a devastating chain of events.

At a grand ball, Kitty expects Vronsky to propose to her. Instead, he spends the evening fixated on Anna. The attraction is instant and mutual. In an unforgettable moment, Kitty realizes she has been discarded. Her dreams collapse in a single night, leaving her crushed and humiliated.

From here, Anna’s fate begins to turn. Returning to St. Petersburg, she tries to resume her life with Karenin and her son, Seryozha. But Vronsky follows her. Their flirtation blossoms into a full-blown affair—one that defies the strict moral codes of Russian aristocratic society.

Karenin: The Man of Principles

Alexei Karenin, Anna’s husband, is a man devoted to his career and the maintenance of moral appearances. He is not cruel, but he is cold and emotionally unavailable. His love is measured, based on duty and order. When he begins to suspect the affair, his first concern is not emotional betrayal but social ruin. He tells Anna that her conduct must not invite public scandal.

Anna, however, is no longer the obedient wife. Her inner life has awakened. Her passion for Vronsky defies everything she has known and been taught. She confesses her love and, eventually, her pregnancy with Vronsky’s child.

Karenin’s world begins to unravel, yet he clings to his reputation like armor. In one of the most intense sections of the novel, Anna falls gravely ill after childbirth. Believing she will die, she begs forgiveness from Karenin, who, moved by her suffering, forgives both her and Vronsky in a moment of extraordinary spiritual transcendence.

But when Anna recovers, Karenin’s forgiveness fades. He remains emotionally crippled, and Anna, now more ostracized than ever, sinks deeper into uncertainty.

Kitty’s Collapse and Redemption

After being rejected by Vronsky, Kitty falls into a deep depression. Her health deteriorates, both physically and emotionally. Her family sends her to a German spa for rest and recovery. There, among simple and virtuous people—including a woman named Varenka—Kitty begins to understand that love cannot be based on charm or appearances. She matures into a more grounded, compassionate woman.

Her return to Russia marks the beginning of a quiet transformation—one that paves the way for her eventual reconciliation with Levin.

Vronsky’s Ambition vs. Anna’s Obsession

Vronsky, for all his gallant qualities, is not a man prepared to sacrifice everything for love. After resigning from the army and setting up a household with Anna, he still pursues society, politics, and high culture. Anna, on the other hand, has given up everything—her home, her son, her position. The imbalance in their relationship begins to show.

Her social exile breeds insecurity. Jealousy eats away at her sanity. She becomes increasingly suspicious of Vronsky, believing he no longer loves her. Her mental state deteriorates, and she isolates herself from those who care about her.

Levin’s Spiritual Awakening

Meanwhile, Levin continues his life on his estate. Despite his despair over Kitty, he throws himself into work, hoping to find meaning. His musings on agriculture, peasant life, and labor mirror his internal philosophical search for truth. Eventually, he returns to Moscow, where he reconnects with Kitty. This time, their relationship is deeper and more equal. They marry.

Through Kitty, Levin experiences the joys and hardships of love. He is forced to confront death when his brother Nikolai dies, and the birth of his child leaves him pondering life’s meaning. In the end, Levin experiences a quiet spiritual awakening—not through religion, but through a simple realization: that goodness lies in living for others, in selflessness, and in truth.

Anna’s End

Anna, by contrast, becomes a prisoner of her own decisions. As her paranoia intensifies, her relationship with Vronsky becomes unbearable. She believes he is unfaithful, even when there is no proof. Her longing for Seryozha—whom Karenin refuses to let her see—becomes an open wound.

In one of the most haunting and poetic sequences in the novel, Anna rides through Moscow in a carriage, tormented by her thoughts. She sees everyone as either hostile or indifferent. She enters a railway station, the same one where she first met Vronsky. The sounds, smells, and crowd amplify her disorientation.

She throws herself under a train.

“And the candle, by which she had been reading that book filled with anxieties, deceptions, grief, and evil, flared up more brightly than ever, lit up for her all that had once been in darkness, spluttered, began to fade, and went out forever.” (Part Seven, Chapter XXXI)

Final Movements: Life Goes On

Anna’s death is not the climax of the novel—it is a rupture. Life continues. Vronsky, destroyed by guilt and loss, enlists in a military expedition. Karenin becomes the guardian of Anna’s daughter.

Levin, now a father and husband, continues his search for meaning. In the final pages, he has a quiet epiphany while watching a peasant pray. He realizes that meaning is not found in abstract questions but in love, family, and honest work. It is a hard-won peace, achieved not by fleeing society but by participating in it truthfully.

Character Narrative

The Dual Narrative: Anna and Levin

Tolstoy’s genius lies in the way he builds the novel around two major emotional currents: Anna’s passionate but destructive love story with Vronsky, and Levin’s quiet, existential journey through work, marriage, and meaning. The novel moves back and forth between these two stories like two tides rising and falling—one toward self-destruction, the other toward spiritual peace.

At first, the dual plotlines seem unrelated. Anna and Levin barely interact—they meet only once, briefly, and have no emotional connection. But their internal arcs mirror and comment on each other. While Anna increasingly turns inward and becomes consumed by suspicion, guilt, and pride, Levin evolves toward outward connection—first through Kitty, then through fatherhood, and finally through his awakening to a kind of lived truth.

Anna is suffocated by society’s hypocrisy, and by the emotional expectations placed on her as a woman, a mother, and a lover. Levin, meanwhile, confronts the emptiness of rational thought, the limits of science, and his fear of death. They are both alone, but in different ways. Anna is isolated by the shame that society imposes on women like her; Levin is isolated by the questions he cannot answer.

Anna: A Love that Devours

Anna begins the novel as the embodiment of grace and charm. When she arrives in Moscow, she is adored by all. Her charisma is almost supernatural. But over time, her love for Vronsky becomes a consuming force. She sacrifices everything—her child, her marriage, her place in society—but what she gains does not sustain her.

Vronsky is not a villain. He loves Anna in his own way, but he cannot offer the total emotional validation she craves. He continues to seek status and respect in the world, while Anna, cast out from it, is left with nothing but him. The imbalance festers.

Their life together becomes strained. Vronsky’s love grows colder. Anna grows jealous, haunted by the idea that he no longer desires her. She cannot see herself clearly anymore. Her pride, once a source of strength, becomes a trap. The same society that indulged Stiva’s affair will not forgive Anna’s. Her options narrow until only one remains: obliteration.

“She said to herself that she must not think. That she must forget. And she drove the thoughts away. But they came again.” (Part Seven, Chapter XXX)

The way Tolstoy renders her final days—fragmented thoughts, shifting perspectives, irrational bursts of memory—is as real and raw as anything in literature. Anna is not just destroyed by society, but by the internalization of its judgment. Her death is not a moral punishment. It is the tragic end of a woman who believed that love could replace identity.

Vronsky: A Lover Without Depth

Count Vronsky begins the novel as a man of action. He is handsome, wealthy, and used to being adored. When he meets Anna, he falls passionately in love, but his love is shallow. It is based on Anna as an idealized figure, not as a full person.

After the affair begins, Vronsky does make sacrifices—he leaves his military career, faces public disgrace—but he never seems to grasp the emotional depth of Anna’s torment. His love remains conditional. When Anna starts unraveling, he becomes distant. He does not know how to manage her emotional needs, and he retreats into silence and stoicism.

In the end, Vronsky is devastated by Anna’s suicide. He tries to find redemption by enlisting in a military campaign in Serbia. But there is a sense that he is running from guilt, not facing it.

Karenin: A Man of Law, Not Love

Alexei Alexandrovich Karenin, Anna’s husband, is perhaps the most complex supporting character in the novel. He is cold and emotionless, but not cruel. In fact, at times he shows great compassion—especially during Anna’s illness when he forgives both her and Vronsky. But Karenin’s forgiveness is intellectual, not emotional. He is governed by rules and appearances.

His tragedy is that he cannot connect with others, not even his own son. When Anna leaves, he turns inward, adopting a strange mysticism encouraged by Countess Lydia Ivanovna. His faith becomes a shield, not a source of grace. He ends up as alone as Anna, but unlike her, he does not seek love—only peace.

Kitty and Levin: A Parallel World of Love and Growth

Kitty’s journey is one of transformation. At the beginning, she is infatuated with Vronsky. She imagines a fairy-tale romance, and when that dream is shattered, she collapses. But her time at the German spa matures her. She sees other kinds of strength—in humility, in service, in quiet endurance.

When she reunites with Levin, she is no longer the naive girl he once proposed to. Their courtship is awkward, but deeply honest. In one of the novel’s most beautiful scenes, they communicate through chalk marks on a table, confessing their love in silence.

Their marriage is not perfect. Levin wrestles with his doubts. Kitty has to learn how to live in the countryside. But they grow together. The birth of their son, and Levin’s silent epiphany in the fields, mark a kind of spiritual culmination.

“He had lived for others and for God, without understanding it… now he understood it.” (Part Eight, Chapter XIX)

Unlike Anna’s love, which isolates, Kitty and Levin’s love connects. It does not burn as brightly, but it endures.

Death as a Silent Character

Death is everywhere in Anna Karenina. It first appears at the train station, when a railway worker is killed—a dark foreshadowing of Anna’s end. Anna’s and Vronsky’s first moment of emotional closeness happens over this corpse. Later, Levin’s brother Nikolai dies in his arms, and the scene is rendered with terrifying precision: the rattle of breath, the stench of decay, the helplessness of those watching.

Tolstoy uses death not only as a plot device, but as a philosophical pressure point. It is the one absolute that none of the characters can avoid. Anna succumbs to it. Levin stares it down. Karenin tries to ignore it. Kitty learns from it.

By the end, the reader understands that death is not merely the end of life—it is a measure of how life has been lived.

Society as a Cage

The Russian aristocratic world of Anna Karenina is a cage built from etiquette, hypocrisy, and appearances. Men like Stiva can cheat on their wives and still attend dinner parties. Women like Anna are cast out. The double standard is brutal and unforgiving.

Tolstoy does not preach, but the injustice is clear. Anna is not destroyed by passion, but by a world that gives her no room to be human. Her attempts to live outside the rules—to love freely, to raise her daughter, to exist on her own terms—are thwarted at every turn.

The most damning portrait of society comes in the form of the steeplechase scene, where Vronsky injures his horse, Frou-Frou. The horse is a symbol for Anna—beautiful, spirited, and doomed by male pride.

The Ending: Not Peace, but Perspective

Anna’s death is not the conclusion of the novel. In fact, it marks a shift. After her suicide, the narrative shifts entirely to Levin. He returns to the countryside with Kitty and his newborn son. He is not happy—not exactly. But he is clear.

Levin’s final epiphany is quiet. He realizes that he does not need answers to every question. He only needs to live rightly—not according to dogma, but according to a principle of goodness that is deeply personal.

It is a deeply Russian ending: unsentimental, unresolved, and profoundly human.

Setting

The novel is set in Imperial Russia, primarily in Moscow, Saint Petersburg, and the rural provinces. Cities represent a corrupt, hypocritical high society obsessed with image and superficial morality, while the countryside—especially through Levin’s estate—symbolizes truth, simplicity, and personal reflection.

The settings reflect the novel’s thematic dualities: civilization vs. nature, artifice vs. authenticity, and public life vs. inner self. For Anna, the city is both seductive and punishing; for Levin, the country is a site of rebirth. These places are not just backgrounds—they are symbolic extensions of the characters’ internal states.

Analysis

a. Characters

Anna Arkadyevna Karenina

Anna is the moral and emotional axis of the novel. Married to the dry, bureaucratic Alexei Alexandrovich Karenin, she begins a passionate affair with Count Vronsky. Her transformation—from dignified aristocrat to obsessive lover, from luminous socialite to paranoid outcast—is one of literature’s most poignant descents. Tolstoy strips her of social protections and exposes her to the full weight of society’s condemnation.

“She was so filled with the joy of life and love that she could not understand how anyone could fail to see it.” (Part II, Chapter 11)

Her tragedy lies in her inability to find emotional equilibrium. Abandoned by society, estranged from her son, and suffocating under jealousy, Anna becomes a woman consumed by inner chaos.

Count Alexei Vronsky

Vronsky is the archetype of aristocratic masculinity—handsome, charming, but ultimately shallow. Initially infatuated with Anna, he sacrifices his military career and societal standing. However, as the novelty of their love fades, Vronsky turns inward, focused on reputation and political ambition, while Anna descends into despair.

“He felt that she was part of his soul… and at the same time that she was a stranger.” (Part V, Chapter 8)

Alexei Alexandrovich Karenin

Karenin embodies institutionalized power and moral rigidity. Although he tries to forgive Anna, his forgiveness is performative, not empathetic. His religious turn, spurred by Countess Lydia Ivanovna, reflects a hollow form of piety disconnected from genuine compassion.

Konstantin Dmitrievich Levin

Levin, often considered Tolstoy’s alter ego, represents the search for spiritual meaning beyond society. His journey is one of internal evolution—from social awkwardness to marital happiness, from existential despair to a humble acceptance of life’s mysteries.

“Without knowing what I am and why I am here, life is impossible.” (Part VIII, Chapter 12)

Princess Kitty Shcherbatskaya

Kitty’s maturation—from naive debutante infatuated with Vronsky to a devoted wife to Levin—reflects a realistic portrait of emotional growth. Her character contrasts sharply with Anna’s tragic arc.

Stepan “Stiva” Oblonsky

Stiva represents the cheerful, irresponsible man of society. His infidelities are forgiven because they are expected. His role is crucial for highlighting the gender hypocrisy in how society treats male vs. female transgressions.

b. Writing Style and Structure

Tolstoy’s prose in Anna Karenina is straightforward but laden with emotional undercurrents. The translation by Pevear and Volokhonsky retains the subtle tonal shifts, irony, and layered internal dialogue that make the original Russian so powerful. The novel is written in third-person omniscient, often diving into stream-of-consciousness, particularly during Anna’s final chapters.

Notable stylistic elements include:

• Interior monologue: Particularly in Anna’s descent into jealousy and despair.
• Symbolic repetition: e.g., trains and railways represent fate, modernity, and death.
• Narrative duality: The Anna/Vronsky and Levin/Kitty storylines run in parallel but offer inverse emotional and philosophical conclusions.

The structure—eight parts with short chapters—maintains narrative rhythm while giving Tolstoy space to explore multiple viewpoints, from aristocrats to peasants, from lovers to bureaucrats.

c. Themes and Symbolism

Adultery and Social Judgment

Anna is punished not for adultery per se, but for refusing to conform to society’s performative repentance. Her crime is not infidelity but her rebellion against hypocrisy.

“Vengeance is mine; I will repay.” – Romans 12:19, the novel’s epigraph

Family and Happiness

Contrasted families—from the Oblonskys’ chaos to the Levins’ harmony—ask whether happiness is a moral state or a social performance.

Death and Isolation

Death is a spectral presence, from the railway worker’s fatal accident to Anna’s suicide. Levin’s spiritual awakening is framed against the death of his brother Nikolai.

Faith and Redemption

While Anna spirals away from redemption, Levin moves toward it. His final realization about living “not for oneself but for goodness” marks the novel’s subtle theological conclusion.

Symbolism

• Trains: Appear at every major moment of Anna’s arc—meeting Vronsky, dreams, and her death.
• Light and darkness: Used to show emotional landscapes, especially in Anna’s thoughts.
• Children: Anna’s loss of Seryozha symbolizes her societal and maternal disintegration.

d. Genre-Specific Elements

Anna Karenina is classic realist fiction but includes experimental elements like inner monologue, nonlinear character arcs, and philosophical digressions. It challenges conventions by combining:

• Domestic drama
• Political commentary
• Spiritual inquiry

It lacks a central hero or heroine in the traditional sense. Instead, it presents moral complexity across characters, refusing easy categorizations.

Recommended for:

• Readers of literary classics and psychological fiction.
• Students exploring gender studies, Russian history, or philosophy.
• Fans of Madame Bovary, The Age of Innocence, or The Awakening.

Evaluation

✅ Strengths

1. Psychological Depth

One of the greatest strengths of Anna Karenina is its unrivaled psychological precision. Few novels portray the inner turmoil of a character with the authenticity and complexity that Tolstoy grants to Anna. As noted by Britannica, “Anna pays not so much because she transgresses the moral code but because she refuses to observe the proprieties customarily exacted in such liaisons”. Her refusal to perform repentance isolates her, showing how societal expectations can intensify personal guilt.

Tolstoy achieves a rare depth of character by oscillating between interior monologue and external observation. Anna’s jealousy, Levin’s existential dread, and even Vronsky’s disillusionment are rendered with such fidelity that readers feel the characters’ emotional realities.

2. Philosophical and Spiritual Inquiry

Through Levin’s arc, the novel explores questions about labor, death, God, and the purpose of existence. His epiphany near the end—when he realizes that “to live for others” is the path to truth—grounds the novel’s final moral tone in humility, not dogma.

“I shall go on in the same way, losing my temper with my coachman, falling into angry discussions… but now I will live differently.” (Part VIII, Chapter 19)

This quiet revelation contrasts with Anna’s dramatic end, making Anna Karenina a philosophical text as much as a dramatic one.

3. Societal Critique

Tolstoy’s indictment of Russian aristocratic society is as relevant today as it was in the 19th century. Men like Stiva Oblonsky are rewarded despite moral failings, while women like Anna are destroyed for the same choices. This hypocrisy isn’t just pointed out—it’s dissected.

“What for one is a crime, for another is a social mishap.” – This unstated theme echoes across the novel’s class and gender dynamics.

4. Realism of Setting

Every location—from Petersburg salons to country farms—is grounded in a vivid sense of place. The contrast between urban superficiality and rural authenticity reflects the novel’s thematic split. According to Wikipedia, Tolstoy uses the “differences between rural and urban life” as both background and metaphor.

✅ Weaknesses

1. Pacing

Some readers, especially modern ones, may find the narrative slow in parts. For example, extended sections on agrarian reform or Duma debates, while interesting, can distract from the central emotional arc. Tolstoy’s commitment to realism occasionally overwhelms narrative momentum.

2. Overabundance of Characters

While each character serves a purpose, the sheer number of names, relationships, and nicknames can be confusing. Characters like Seryozha, Koznyshev, or Betsy Tverskaya sometimes fade into narrative background, despite rich introductions.

3. Emotional Exhaustion

Anna’s emotional spiral, though brilliant, is at times emotionally taxing to read. Her descent into jealousy and paranoia is so intimate that it risks becoming claustrophobic for the reader. Some might feel Tolstoy overplays her despair in the later parts.

✅ Impact

Reading Anna Karenina is not just engaging—it is transformative. The novel invites the reader to examine the limits of freedom, the burden of social expectation, and the search for spiritual meaning. It is not a comfortable book, but it is a necessary one.

Critic Vladimir Nabokov called it “one of the greatest love stories in world literature,” while modern scholars view it as “a novel of ideas masquerading as a romance” (BBC, 2020).

From a reader’s standpoint, Anna Karenina challenges assumptions about morality, especially regarding gender and autonomy. It leaves emotional residues that linger for years.

✅ Comparison with Similar Works

✅ Reception and Criticism

Initially serialized in The Russian Messenger (1875–77), the novel was met with overwhelming acclaim in Russia and Europe. According to Britannica, it remains “one of the pinnacles of world literature”.

Interestingly, Tolstoy himself grew to dislike the novel, claiming he wrote the final chapters in “an anguished state of mind”. Despite his ambivalence, Anna Karenina has been translated into more than 50 languages and adapted into over 20 film versions—including Greta Garbo’s 1935 film and Joe Wright’s stylized 2012 adaptation starring Keira Knightley.

Each adaptation frames Anna differently—some emphasize her tragedy, others her defiance. But none fully captures the emotional nuance that only the novel can deliver.

Personal Insight with Contemporary Educational Relevance

Reading Anna Karenina today feels astonishingly relevant. In a world obsessed with public image, digital appearances, and gender double standards, Anna’s emotional collapse feels less like 19th-century fiction and more like a cautionary tale for our own time.

As a literature student, I found that the novel bridges multiple disciplines:

• Psychology: Offers rich case studies in projection, repression, and guilt.
• Gender Studies: Anna is both a victim and a challenger of patriarchal norms.
• Political Science: Karenin’s storyline reflects the bureaucratic heart of 19th-century Russian power structures.
• Philosophy: Levin’s existential journey mirrors that of modern thinkers from Kierkegaard to Camus.

From a teaching perspective, this novel fosters debate about:

• The ethics of adultery vs. the ethics of societal judgment.
• The role of religion and redemption in literature.
• What it means to live a meaningful life.

Conclusion

Overall Impression

Anna Karenina is not a love story—it is an existential tragedy draped in silk. It is about people at war with themselves and with the worlds they inhabit. Leo Tolstoy’s brilliance lies not just in creating unforgettable characters but in dissecting the very essence of love, morality, hypocrisy, and purpose.

“She felt that there was nothing more in life, that it had all been used up.” (Anna’s last thoughts)

Anna’s fate is not a warning against passion, but a reflection of how compassionless societies crush the complex, emotional lives of women. Her story is echoed even today in the lives of those marginalized for choosing freedom over conformity.

Who Should Read This Book?

• Readers of classic literature or philosophical fiction.
• Students in humanities, especially gender, theology, or ethics.
• Anyone who has asked: What does it mean to live rightly?

Why This Book Still Matters

Anna Karenina matters because it does not offer answers—it offers honesty. It does not idealize love but interrogates it. It does not condemn or absolve—it simply reveals. In a world of shallow takes and fleeting emotions, Tolstoy reminds us that depth is what makes us human.