Book Six: 1808-10 - Chapter IX

by Leo Tolstoy

　　At that time, as always happens, the highest society that met atcourt and at the grand balls was divided into several circles, eachwith its own particular tone. The largest of these was the Frenchcircle of the Napoleonic alliance, the circle of Count Rumyantsevand Caulaincourt. In this group Helene, as soon as she had settledin Petersburg with her husband, took a very prominent place. She wasvisited by the members of the French embassy and by many belongingto that circle and noted for their intellect and polished manners.

　　Helene had been at Erfurt during the famous meeting of theEmperors and had brought from there these connections with theNapoleonic notabilities. At Erfurt her success had been brilliant.Napoleon himself had noticed her in the theater and said of her:"C'est un superbe animal."* Her success as a beautiful and elegantwoman did not surprise Pierre, for she had become even handsomerthan before. What did surprise him was that during these last twoyears his wife had succeeded in gaining the reputation "d' une femmecharmante, aussi spirituelle que belle."*[2] The distinguishedPrince de Ligne wrote her eight-page letters. Bilibin saved up hisepigrams to produce them in Countess Bezukhova's presence. To bereceived in the Countess Bezukhova's salon was regarded as a diplomaof intellect. Young men read books before attending Helene's evenings,to have something to say in her salon, and secretaries of the embassy,and even ambassadors, confided diplomatic secrets to her, so that in away Helene was a power. Pierre, who knew she was very stupid,sometimes attended, with a strange feeling of perplexity and fear, herevenings and dinner parties, where politics, poetry, and philosophywere discussed. At these parties his feelings were like those of aconjuror who always expects his trick to be found out at any moment.But whether because stupidity was just what was needed to run such asalon, or because those who were deceived found pleasure in thedeception, at any rate it remained unexposed and Helene Bezukhova'sreputation as a lovely and clever woman became so firmly establishedthat she could say the emptiest and stupidest things and everybodywould go into raptures over every word of hers and look for a profoundmeaning in it of which she herself had no conception.

　　*"That's a superb animal."

　　*[2] "Of a charming woman, as witty as she is lovely."

　　Pierre was just the husband needed for a brilliant society woman. Hewas that absent-minded crank, a grand seigneur husband who was in noone's way, and far from spoiling the high tone and generalimpression of the drawing room, he served, by the contrast hepresented to her, as an advantageous background to his elegant andtactful wife. Pierre during the last two years, as a result of hiscontinual absorption in abstract interests and his sincere contemptfor all else, had acquired in his wife's circle, which did notinterest him, that air of unconcern, indifference, and benevolencetoward all, which cannot be acquired artificially and thereforeinspires involuntary respect. He entered his wife's drawing room asone enters a theater, was acquainted with everybody, equally pleasedto see everyone, and equally indifferent to them all. Sometimes hejoined in a conversation which interested him and, regardless ofwhether any "gentlemen of the embassy" were present or not,lispingly expressed his views, which were sometimes not at all inaccord with the accepted tone of the moment. But the general opinionconcerning the queer husband of "the most distinguished woman inPetersburg" was so well established that no one took his freaksseriously.

　　Among the many young men who frequented her house every day, BorisDrubetskoy, who had already achieved great success in the service, wasthe most intimate friend of the Bezukhov household since Helene'sreturn from Erfurt. Helene spoke of him as "mon page" and treatedhim like a child. Her smile for him was the same as for everybody, butsometimes that smile made Pierre uncomfortable. Toward him Borisbehaved with a particularly dignified and sad deference. This shade ofdeference also disturbed Pierre. He had suffered so painfully threeyears before from the mortification to which his wife had subjectedhim that he now protected himself from the danger of its repetition,first by not being a husband to his wife, and secondly by not allowinghimself to suspect.

　　"No, now that she has become a bluestocking she has finallyrenounced her former infatuations," he told himself. "There hasnever been an instance of a bluestocking being carried away by affairsof the heart"- a statement which, though gathered from an unknownsource, he believed implicitly. Yet strange to say Boris' presencein his wife's drawing room (and he was almost always there) had aphysical effect upon Pierre; it constricted his limbs and destroyedthe unconsciousness and freedom of his movements.

　　"What a strange antipathy," thought Pierre, "yet I used to likehim very much."

　　In the eyes of the world Pierre was a great gentleman, the ratherblind and absurd husband of a distinguished wife, a clever crank whodid nothing but harmed nobody and was a first-rate, good-naturedfellow. But a complex and difficult process of internal developmentwas taking place all this time in Pierre's soul, revealing much to himand causing him many spiritual doubts and joys.