my thoughts...

The Death of Ivan Ilyich is a novella that details the life, and subsequently, slow, agonizing death of its namesake, a high-court judge in Russia.

Spoilers henceforth!

We are painted the picture of Ivan, who goes through life amicably, going through the motions of living and working towards developing his career and improving his social status, but who doesn't seem to have a strong passion or opinion on one thing or another. In some ways, he lives through life as expected of him, rather than because of his own convictions. For example when he chooses to marry, it's not because he was deeply in love with his wife, but because it appeared to be the "right" thing to do in that it was beneficial, and would be looked favourably upon by other people. This of course pans out badly, as the relationship sours and he begins to hate her for how uncaring and nonchalant she is towards his declining health.

What I thought was interesting is that we get a glimpse of some sort of passion that borders on obsession for decorating his new home to the point that he's thinking about it during work and sometimes exerting himself to execute it according to his vision, but it ultimately becomes the very point in life that changes the course of his life downhill.

I doubt we are to look favourably upon this "passion": the narrator doesn't fail to point out that Ivan's interior decoration is trite and mediocre, a transparent attempt to appear more upper class that ends up looking gauche. The way I see it, it's a passion that isn't a passion for the love of the activity, but one that is still born from concern of social status, appearances and earthly indulgences. And because of that, I think, it still fails in giving Ivan a "good life", ultimately becoming the final nail in the coffin.

Ivan Ilyich’s chief pleasure was giving little dinners to which he invited men and women of good social position, and just as his drawing room resembled all other drawing rooms so did his enjoyable little parties resemble all other such parties.

I think it's interesting that Tolstoy chose to open with Ivan's funeral, reflecting some of the inner thoughts of the people who surrounded him in his life (sans Gerasim). His death doesn't seem to particularly faze them; much like Ivan, they seem to be going through the motions of life, much more concerned with what his death would mean for them, such as a promotion or coming into some money, rather than a reflection of Ivan's life or their own mortality. And it is only as I read along that I felt like the story tied itself quite neatly in a loop: as Ivan comes to the realization that his life was a farce towards the end of the book, I was thinking back to the first few chapters and how the other characters would still be lacking in compassion even after his death, just as they were when he was in his deathbed. It had me wondering if it is only through some similar sickness that they would realize what a "good life" truly is.

So on receiving the news of Ivan Ilyich’s death the first thought of each of the gentlemen in that private room was of the changes and promotions it might occasion among themselves or their acquaintances.

Also, the idea of selfishness seems to be a big part of the story, and perhaps the irony is that up until the final chapter, Ivan is still, in a way, selfish. He demands compassion and pity from his family, hating them when they don't offer it. When Gerasim extends compassion, Ivan imposes on him by making requests for him to stay, help him hold up his legs through the night, making Gerasim forgo some sleep, etc. And it is only in the end, he lets go of this selfishness by understanding that it is in his death (i.e. letting go of his life, as he had been holding on to desperately) that he can release his family of torment and pain, (even if we objectively feel that they weren't the best caretakers for him!) thereby acting selflessly and with compassion.

Always and forever the same, always these endless days and nights. If only it would come quicker! If only what would come quicker? Death, darkness?…No, no! Anything rather than death!

And suddenly it grew clear to him that what had been oppressing him and would not leave his was all dropping away at once from two sides, from ten sides, and from all sides. He was sorry for them, he must act so as not to hurt them: release them and free himself from these sufferings. “How it was revealed to him that though his life had not been what it should have been, this could still be rectified. He asked himself, “What is the right thing?”

“Yes, I am making them wretched,” he thought. “They are sorry, but it will be better for them when I die.”

All in all, I think this was interesting and not what I expected! I liked that it was a short read but makes you reflect a little on your own life and mortality. Also, I couldn't find any information on who translated my version of the book.

my thoughts...

The Death of Ivan Ilyich is a novella that details the life, and subsequently, slow, agonizing death of its namesake, a high-court judge in Russia.

Spoilers henceforth!

We are painted the picture of Ivan, who goes through life amicably, going through the motions of living and working towards developing his career and improving his social status, but who doesn't seem to have a strong passion or opinion on one thing or another. In some ways, he lives through life as expected of him, rather than because of his own convictions. For example when he chooses to marry, it's not because he was deeply in love with his wife, but because it appeared to be the "right" thing to do in that it was beneficial, and would be looked favourably upon by other people. This of course pans out badly, as the relationship sours and he begins to hate her for how uncaring and nonchalant she is towards his declining health.

What I thought was interesting is that we get a glimpse of some sort of passion that borders on obsession for decorating his new home to the point that he's thinking about it during work and sometimes exerting himself to execute it according to his vision, but it ultimately becomes the very point in life that changes the course of his life downhill.

I doubt we are to look favourably upon this "passion": the narrator doesn't fail to point out that Ivan's interior decoration is trite and mediocre, a transparent attempt to appear more upper class that ends up looking gauche. The way I see it, it's a passion that isn't a passion for the love of the activity, but one that is still born from concern of social status, appearances and earthly indulgences. And because of that, I think, it still fails in giving Ivan a "good life", ultimately becoming the final nail in the coffin.

Ivan Ilyich’s chief pleasure was giving little dinners to which he invited men and women of good social position, and just as his drawing room resembled all other drawing rooms so did his enjoyable little parties resemble all other such parties.

I think it's interesting that Tolstoy chose to open with Ivan's funeral, reflecting some of the inner thoughts of the people who surrounded him in his life (sans Gerasim). His death doesn't seem to particularly faze them; much like Ivan, they seem to be going through the motions of life, much more concerned with what his death would mean for them, such as a promotion or coming into some money, rather than a reflection of Ivan's life or their own mortality. And it is only as I read along that I felt like the story tied itself quite neatly in a loop: as Ivan comes to the realization that his life was a farce towards the end of the book, I was thinking back to the first few chapters and how the other characters would still be lacking in compassion even after his death, just as they were when he was in his deathbed. It had me wondering if it is only through some similar sickness that they would realize what a "good life" truly is.

So on receiving the news of Ivan Ilyich’s death the first thought of each of the gentlemen in that private room was of the changes and promotions it might occasion among themselves or their acquaintances.

Also, the idea of selfishness seems to be a big part of the story, and perhaps the irony is that up until the final chapter, Ivan is still, in a way, selfish. He demands compassion and pity from his family, hating them when they don't offer it. When Gerasim extends compassion, Ivan imposes on him by making requests for him to stay, help him hold up his legs through the night, making Gerasim forgo some sleep, etc. And it is only in the end, he lets go of this selfishness by understanding that it is in his death (i.e. letting go of his life, as he had been holding on to desperately) that he can release his family of torment and pain, (even if we objectively feel that they weren't the best caretakers for him!) thereby acting selflessly and with compassion.

Always and forever the same, always these endless days and nights. If only it would come quicker! If only what would come quicker? Death, darkness?…No, no! Anything rather than death!

And suddenly it grew clear to him that what had been oppressing him and would not leave his was all dropping away at once from two sides, from ten sides, and from all sides. He was sorry for them, he must act so as not to hurt them: release them and free himself from these sufferings. “How it was revealed to him that though his life had not been what it should have been, this could still be rectified. He asked himself, “What is the right thing?”

“Yes, I am making them wretched,” he thought. “They are sorry, but it will be better for them when I die.”

All in all, I think this was interesting and not what I expected! I liked that it was a short read but makes you reflect a little on your own life and mortality. Also, I couldn't find any information on who translated my version of the book.