Tolstoy, Moscow, 1885
Notes to “The Death of Ivan Ilyich” TOLSTOY AND DEATH
“The Death of Ivan Ilyich” was completed on March 25, 1886,
and published later that same year. in July, 1881, Tolstoy had learned of the
death (by stomach cancer) of Ivan Ilyich Mechnikov, an acquaintance of his. Mechnikov,
a public prosecutor in the Tula district judicial system, according to his
widow, had undergone a deep spiritual change in his last months on earth and
had come to regard his life as wasted.
Tolstoy died in 1910, twenty-nine years after the man who
was the prototype for his fictional Ivan Ilyich. On his deathbed the old man
was reported to have said, “I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do.” This
is an interesting statement in regard to dying in general: exactly how is
anyone supposed to behave on his/her deathbed? What are we supposed to do?
The question is especially relevant for Tolstoy, who was
obsessed with death for practically the whole of his life, but still did not
know what to do when the time came to face death. As Ronald Blythe suggests, in
his introduction to the Bantam paperback translation, Tolstoy, the “lifelong
death-watcher,” may have written this story, at least in part, for therapeutic
purposes—in an attempt to better understand the process of death by airing the
theme in his own art, and, consequently, to come to terms with his own future
death.
But a case can be made for asserting that Tolstoy’s attitude
in writing this story is somewhat like that of the characters—Ivan’s court
colleagues and fellow card players—who react (see chapter one) to the death of
Ivan Ilyich by pushing it out of their minds: “Glad it’s him and not me. Sure,
he died, but me, I’ll never die; I’m indestructible.”
As Blythe writes, “the chief reason why we can tolerate
death in others, even in those near to us, is that it pushes it away from
ourselves.” If Tolstoy had really wanted to look squarely into the face of his
own death, he could have written the story of a dying artist, of a man with the
same spiritual concerns and preoccupations as he himself. Instead, he chose to
write about the most ordinary of philistines, a man with practically no
redeeming moral or spiritual values.
In so doing Tolstoy (probably subconsciously) was acting
somewhat like Ivan’s friend and colleague Pyotr Ivanovich acted in the first
chapter of the story. P.I. does his best at the funeral not to look closely at
the corpse—with the implicit message on its dead brow: “Get right with the
world before it’s too late.” He escapes the proceedings as soon as possible and
goes off to play cards. For P.I. cards are the diversion that push the fact of approaching
death out of his mind, keeping death at bay. Ironically, cards had also played
an important role, as escape and diversion, in the life of Ivan Ilyich.
Tolstoy’s diversion is on a loftier level; it is literary
art. But if the author’s fear of death motivated him, at least in part, to
write this story, if something like self-therapy played a role, so what? The
result is still great art. “The Death of Ivan Ilyich” is one of the greatest
works in all of world literature on the subject of death and dying.
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