Poor Alexei Alexandrovich. In the modern day's rising nerdocracy, he could be a sitcom star - the socially awkward workaholic with a sarcastic sense of humor and knockout spouse. Unfortunately for him, he's stuck in a novel where such quirks only solidify his status as the third wheel to Anna and Vronsky's glamorous and impassioned romance.
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| A term that is henceforth known as "Harry at the Olympics." |
More than anything else, Alexei is a plot device to make his own wife's love affair more exciting, which is why I can imagine him reciting this part of T. S. Eliot's
"The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock":
| No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; | |
| Am an attendant lord, one that will do | |
| To swell a progress, start a scene or two, | |
| Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool, | |
| Deferential, glad to be of use, |
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| Politic, cautious, and meticulous; | |
| Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse; | |
| At times, indeed, almost ridiculous— | |
| Almost, at times, the Fool. |
And even though he fights this role, choosing to turn his wife's obvious infidelity the same blind eye that Shark Week fans are currently using on anything without gill slits, it eats him up to the point when a friend secretly sends a doctor to check on him. I realize this is a kindly gesture, but who in Tsarist Russia decided that people only qualify for medical treatment if they're having
Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus kinds of issues? I mean, all six of Dolly's children had to come down with scarlet fever before she could score some (untrained) assistance
from her own family. Kitty got two doctors and a European vacation just for her post-ball angst.
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| We're a bit more harsh these days. |
Anyway, the doctor tells Alexei that he has a "considerably enlarged" liver and needs exercise, then promptly blabs about the checkup in a flagrant breach of patient confidentiality only made more insulting by the fact that the confidant is Alexei's own head clerk. It's clear from their conversation that they both know what his real problem is, even if he won't admit it to himself. In fact, Anna's little romance appears to be the worst-kept secret in the northern hemisphere since the Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot love triangle.
He did not want to see, and did not see, that many people in society cast dubious glances on his wife...
The situation is so bad that his own son can tell that something is up, and freaks out whenever Alexei drops by to visit Anna before the horse race. (They're vacationing separately for the summer, which is how we know that Vronsky is Anna's baby daddy-to-be.) For all that both his parents talk constantly about how his well-being is their top priority, Seriozha is on the path to becoming a future Don Draper or Rorschach or [insert messed-up character with horrifying childhood here].
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| Before Jon and Kate, there was Alexei and Anna. |
Reading this part of
Anna Karenina is like
throwing random stuff in the microwave and setting it on "high" - you just know that there's going to be an explosion eventually. I was expecting that Alexei would eventually crack and outright accuse Anna of adultery, or catch Anna and Vronsky in a compromising position à la Lancelot and Guinevere in the Camelot stories. I was completely wrong. Anna tells him on the way home from the race, and if there's a way to politely tell your husband that you're seeing someone else, she does everything but that:
"I am listening to you, but I am thinking of him. I love him, I am his mistress; I can't bear you; I'm afraid of you, and I hate you...You can do what you like to me."
Whoa there, girlfriend. I'm all for the frank sharing of opinions, but I think Alexei deserves a little bit of slack...especially considering that they've been married eight years and she's never before dropped the slightest hint about not being happy. As it is, he's totally taken aback and responds the only way he knows how: unemotionally.
"Very well! But I expect a strict observance of the outward forms of propriety till such time as I may take measures to secure my honor, and communicate them to you."
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| Alexei Alexandrovich: making this guy look like Oprah since 1837. |
In other words: "Whatevs, just keep it on the DL. TTYL." Too bad couple therapy is a modern concept, because my Spidey sense is telling me that these two aren't done with their miscommunication problems. Anna's emotionalism versus Alexei's stoicism, with sexual infidelity thrown in? There may be no survivors. And on that cheerful note, today's Official Lit Dish is a
mix for instant Russian tea. If tea really does have the de-stressing properties that its fans have been touting for centuries, then it's not a stretch to say to that every member of the Karenin clan could do with a cuppa.
