Thoughts for a New Year: War and Peace

As a holiday present (I'll leave you to guess which holiday), my partner bought me the new translation of War and Peace.

I read War and Peace when I was in high school, after my father told me that you couldn't be an educated person without having read War and Peace and Ulysses. At the time I was a bit daunted by the book's sheer heft as well as the thundering universality of its title. But as I read, I was amazed at what a page-turner it was, how exciting and passionate and wise.

Now, some 17 years later, I'm re-reading the book, and though I'm only up to page 774, I'm convinced pretty much everything you could ever want to know about writing, and much of what you might want to know about life, lies between its covers.

One of the book's big themes is that history and life are a result of a series of accidents, some lucky, even though in hindsight they appear planned or even foreordained. Also, the gap between the reality of chance and the fictions of control and/or fate we live by can lead to dangerous self-delusions.

If only some of our leaders had read and grasped what this book has to tell us. As much as we want to have power over our futures and steer the destiny of nations and peoples to suit our desires, the complexity of human nature has a way of defying even our best-laid plans. Or in our government's case, our worst-laid plans.

For example, I'm aware of a certain euphoria these days about the so-called "surge" in Iraq. It's true that the violence in that nation has been reduced from catastrophic to tragic. And I suppose that as long as we're willing to maintain the tragic levels of violence by paying for it with American blood, we will be able to do so. And yet, it must be asked, was that our goal in invading Iraq? To create a mildly chaotic power vacuum? More importantly, what do we want for that country's future? A theocracy? A corrupt oligarchy? A puppet dictatorship? No one seems to have any idea, least of all the cast of cartoon characters running for the American presidency.

Iraq is only one of a host of problems, including climate change, proliferation of nuclear weapons, economic turbulence that dwarf our ability as individuals to comprehend, let alone think of ways to solve. But Tolstoy can give us some hope here. It's not our responsibility to solve these problems, he tells us. In fact, even if we could think of solutions, the likelihood they might work or be carried out effectively is fairly small. The best thing we can do is to try to see clearly, to always strive to write and say the truth, to be kind and peaceful and unselfish (but not in a stupidly selfless way), to achieve balance.

Not an easy task. But Tolstoy and others like him can point the way. So turn off your computers, your video games, your TVs, for just a few minutes, take a little break, and get thee to a bookstore.