This is probably the weirdest mash-up of cultural references, but hang in there with me. I've long been a fan of Anna Karenina. I read it while I lived in Russia, and the book provided me with a lot of insight into Russian culture and character. I will admit, Anna grows tiresome about two thirds of the way through the novel, and her whining really gets on my nerves, but there is so much to relish in the story beyond the sad tale of Anna and Vronsky. The scene where Lev goes into the fields with the peasants to help with the reaping is a particular favorite of mine, because of all the different things it illustrates (but I'll leave that analysis for a different time). Instead, I'd like to think a little about the character of relationships as described in the story.
"We tend to think that true life is lived at times of high drama. When Anna Karenina reads a novel on the train, she wants to live the exciting incidents described. Both high literature and popular culture foster the delusion that ordinary, prosaic happiness represents something insufferably bourgeois, a suspension of real living. Forms as different as romantic drama, adventure stories, and tragedies suggest that life is truly lived only in moments of great intensity.
Tolstoy thought just the opposite.
The dramatic understanding of life that Tolstoy rejected has, if anything, grown still more powerful. Today very few people question that “true love” is the grand and glorious feeling that consumes one’s very being, as in Romeo and Juliet and countless debased imitations. By contrast, Tolstoy wants us to recognize that romantic love is but one kind of love. It is an ideology of love, in fact, but we do not recognize it as one. In Anna Karenina, Kitty at first prefers the dashing and romantic Vronsky to the kind and staid Levin because she has assumed, as most of us do, that she should marry the one she “loves”; and she has been told that “love” is romantic rather than prosaic. She does not yet recognize that what she feels for Levin is also a form of love, and that she has a real choice. Which love does she really want?
Over time Kitty comes to recognize that in addition to romantic love there is also intimate love. Only intimate love is compatible with a family. Tolstoy wants his readers to be aware that this choice exists for them as well."
That got me thinking about the quality of relationships, and what interpersonal relationships are for. This summer, I re-watched Alias, and am reminded of what a well-written and fun show that was. Of course, the relationship that develops between Sydney and Vaughn over the course of the five seasons is probably the most interesting thing about the show, but there is so much complexity between all the characters' interactions with one another; I think some of the layers eluded me when I watched it the first few times through. As I watched the show this summer, there were several moments between Sydney and Vaughn that really stood out to me.
One moment in particular stood out to me in season 3 (spoilers ahead). Vaughn's father died when he was a child, and the anniversary of his death is always particularly difficult for him. Vaughn has spent the day going around in a funk, feeling distant from his wife, hurting from the pain of missing his father, and when Syndey says to him, "Today is the day, isn't it?" The look on his face is one of pure relief--you know me. You know this hurt. "How did you know?" he asks. "I remember what missing him does to you," she says quietly. To me, the scene is made in that brief look on Vaughn's face. It says volumes about the quality of their previous relationship, and of the ways they drew themselves together and made a sacred space just for them, amidst the crazy of their lives.
I think in any relationship, be it romantic or that of a parent and child, there is the deep desire to be known. The child wants the parent to know them, to understand them; the spouse wants the other to see them for who they really are, regardless of the mask they wear for the rest of the world. It is also the thing that can tear relationships apart--when one person doesn't feel known or understood. I always think this fundamental knowing is part of what makes romantic relationships special--the ability to know and be known, and keep it in a small sacred space, just between the two of you. It is what makes relationships between people mysterious and interesting.














