Tolstoy puts war in its place early on. It seems like he was ahead of his time, showing the pointlessness, frustration and the “Catch-22″ nature of being in a real war. He shows from the opening conflicts that what young men think will happen in war (what they’ve heard in the war stories) is not at all the way things play out on the battlefield.
There’s a war passage early on where Tushin, a short, scrappy officer in the Russian army, is commanding four cannons from a hilltop while the French are clearly winning the battle. A higher ranking officer rides up quickly to give the order to retreat, but is so scared by the cannonfire all around that he rides off more quickly than he arrived.
Captain Tushin is not fazed, though — he’s in his element, and he’s convinced that he’s got a job to do, and he’s not going to be stopped from carrying out his duty, even though his crew of gunners is taking heavy losses. In fact, he’s gleeful. In war, Tushin’s found his focus, his center. Everything becomes clear. He even has a pet name for his big cannon, Matvyevna, and he urges his men to keep on firing away.
It doesn’t seem like Tushin is intent on killing others — he’s just happy to do his job to the best of his ability. When another officer, Andrey Bolkonsky, rides up with the same orders as before — Retreat at once! — Tushin follows these orders because Prince Andrey sticks around with the artillery crew and helps maneuver the cannon out of harm’s way.
Tushin seems “called” to war. It reminds me of the book by Chris Hedges, “War Is a Force that Gives Us Meaning” (a book I never read, but the title sticks with me.) Every action takes on significance, and the possibility of death brings clarity.
Yet within a few pages, Tushin is brought before a council of officers to explain his actions. The staff-officer says he can’t account for why they lost two cannons — and it looks like Tushin is going to take the fall for his superior’s lack of resolve in passing on the command. The commanders are looking to pin it on a lesser officer, and Tushin is put in a tight spot. He’s speechless and has none of the spirit he displayed earlier. He’s out of his element.
But Bolkonsky speaks out, standing up for Tushin in front of the general and shaming the other officer. Tolstoy hints that being brave isn’t good enough — you have to have connections in court to win “the battle after the battle” — the battle of perceptions.
In another passage a few hundred pages later, Tolstoy exposes the meaninglessness of war and grieves the many, many people who suffer as a result of petty rivalries between emperors. These war sections (when the theory of war is being debated endlessly by generals who have little data to work with and often little battlefield experience) are filled with pointed critiques — what’s it worth? Why are so many being killed so pointlessly? Who benefits?
Yet I like the passages where the characters like Tushin come to life — I like his flushed face, his concentration and his spirit. We see (as he picks up a wounded Count Rostov on the weary retreat following the battle) that he’s compassionate as well, a leader who inspires others by his own commitment and care for those in his vicinity. Tushin is idealized, sure, but he exemplifies what Tolstoy admires in the “journeyman soldier” — the one who is not in it for advancement or fame, but one caught up by the moment.
