The Diaries of Sofia Tolstoy (68 page)

 

14th
. My daughter Tanya arrived at 5 this morning, full of energy, common sense and sympathy as always. She has gone off to see Sasha in Telyatinki.

 

16th
. My son Seryozha arrived. I had a good day resting my soul with people I love; my health seems better too. We had a cosy evening together—Seryozha, Tanya, Maria Schmidt, Yulia Igumnova, Andryusha, his Katya and I.

 

20th
. How uninteresting my life is! I went out twice to visit the grave and couldn't find the fence—they've broken the lock again. I read some Chekhov—very clever, but he sneers a lot and I don't like that.

A fine morning, then a thunderstorm and a short, fierce shower. I haven't been crying recently—I've grown cold, my life is a matter of
endurance
. “To
live
is to
submit
!” according to Fet.

 

21st
. I read some unpleasant news in the papers today: the Palace of Justice has decided to destroy Volumes 16, 19 and 20 of my edition.* This is extremely annoying and means huge financial losses.

 

25th (Moscow)
. I went to the Palace of Justice and asked Stepanov the procurator to speed up the decision of my case concerning the seizure of the 3 volumes of the new edition.* He promised to send the decision to Sidorov, the chief censor. I then went to the Censorship Committee, where Sidorov promised to remove the ban the moment he received the court's decision.

 

27th
. Visited the censorship inspector at Chernyshevsky Street, then on to the Censorship Committee. They are doing all they can, and the ban on the books will be lifted tomorrow; Chefranov was here and I have assigned him to reprint the three volumes.* I worked on Volume 20 until 2 in the morning.

 

29th (St Petersburg)
. I was met by Andryusha and my sister Tanya. Everything's so friendly and informal at the Kuzminskys'. I wrote to Countess Geiden, a maid-of-honour, about gaining an audience with the Empress, Maria Fyodorovna.

 

30th
. Countess Geiden visited. The Empress has refused me an audience.*

 

1st May
. Crowds of visitors. This evening was the first meeting of the Society of the Tolstoy Museum. My son Seryozha came too; he is president, I am an honorary member. A lot of dull speeches.

 

2nd
. I visited the Winter Palace to see Naryshkina, a lady-in-waiting, and asked her to arrange an audience with the Tsar. She promised rather feebly.

 

3rd
. Spent the morning at home, then visited Minister P.A. Stolypin; my sister Tanya came too. He understands the necessity of buying Yasnaya Polyana and giving me the manuscripts, but is afraid to announce this to the Tsar, especially now, with this new “religious” spirit at court.

 

5th
. A lot of guests. At 8.30 this evening I visited Minister Kokovtsov about the purchase of Yasnaya Polyana.

 

6th
. Visited my lawyer Shubinsky this morning, who promised to defend me if Sasha takes the matter to court. I am writing to Naryshkina about an audience with the Tsar in Tsarskoe Selo, and to Stolypin and the Tsar explaining the main points of my case. I cannot bear the thought of losing Yasnaya Polyana.

 

7th
. Stayed at home and wrote to the Tsar and Minister Stolypin. Drove around town with Tanya. I'm being pestered by journalists; I miss home and long to get back and see the grave again. The sale of Yasnaya Polyana is tormenting me.

 

8th
. My trip to Tsarskoe Selo didn't take place; Naryshkina wrote to say it had to be cancelled because of the arrival of Grand Duchess Elizaveta Fyodorovna, but she will see me on Tuesday in the Winter Palace. So annoying! I want to go home as soon as possible. Mitya Olsufiev was here, and S.P. Auerbach. I mended sheets for Tanya and am staying at home.

 

10th
. Went to the Winter Palace to see Naryshkina. She was most affable and gave me a copy of her memoirs, and undertook to give the Tsar my letter.* I left for Moscow this evening.

 

12th (Moscow)
. I gave the printers all the material for the reprinting of the 3 previously banned volumes.

 

13th
. Visited the Duma and talked to Guchkov about the sale of the Moscow house.* It breaks my heart to destroy all my nests, which contain so many memories of a full and happy life.

 

15th
. Didn't go to the grave—there were too many visitors, and Lyovochka and I need to be alone together.

 

16th
. Went to the grave, laid a bunch of wild flowers there and sat for a long time weeping and praying. My life is over, I am numb and indifferent to everything, my soul is heavy with suffering.

 

17th
. I read about my Lyovochka in the books by Bulgakov, Lazursky, Rolland, Maude and the others. It's all wrong, all wrong!

 

24th
. Worked on my photographs. Very tired. Visited the grave. Every time I go I weep, as if I were responsible for my husband's death. But how passionately I loved my Lyovochka—to the very last moment of his life! What happened is a complete mystery, we will never understand it.

 

28th
. Photography all morning. This afternoon my son Seryozha arrived with Bogdanov, secretary of the Tolstoy Society in Moscow, and played some Chopin and Schumann beautifully.

 

30th
. A lot of visitors to the grave and the estate. Spent the evening knitting, and listening with an aching heart to the gramophone.

 

6th June
. Read an old French book called
De l'Amour
*—naive and insubstantial, but the language is beautiful. Copied my daily diaries.

 

9th (Moscow)
. Dined at the Praga restaurant. A pleasant conversation with the artist Nesterov and a friendly meeting with Alexei Maklakov. This evening Biryukov visited.

 

10th
. Went shopping, finished my business in Moscow, looked at a little house I might buy after selling this one. A hot, bright day. Left this evening for Yasnaya. I gave photographs to Mey for his album.

 

11th
. Painfully sad homecoming to a deserted Yasnaya Polyana. A nasty scene with the Circassian guard, who had robbed a woman in the village of her grass; I ordered him to give it back.

 

15th
. Some valuers from Tula and St Petersburg came to look over the estate. Endless bustle all day. The plan is for me to move to the Kuzminskys' wing.* Everything is different, life is in decline, and it's all very hard.

 

16th
. Seryozha, Misha and Ilya left, and Lyova unexpectedly arrived. I did nothing all day. Endless discussions about this nightmarish sale of Yasnaya Polyana, inventories and all the other matters concerning that dear, beloved man. I put a brave face on it, but it is hard! There was a distant thunderstorm and a brief shower, and people have picked the first berries, white mushrooms and milk caps. Later this evening there was a heavy thunderstorm and it poured with rain.

 

17th
. I have made a list of the things in the bedroom, and am giving almost all of them to the government, care of the Museum. All very sad, but I know it must be done.

 

18th
. Today is Sasha's 27th birthday. I thought about her all day. Poor girl! It must be sad for her to be alienated from her beloved father's family. It has been raining and thundering on and off all day.

 

20th
. I took a walk with my Lyova and we had a long talk. There are no happy people in this world! It was very hot today; they've been gathering the hay and picking berries and white mushrooms.

 

21st
. The same—it rained, I read Naryshkina's fascinating memoirs of her life at the palace. A brilliant life and an intelligent one—unlike my own naive memoirs about my life as a mother.

 

23rd
. I have started painting a copy of Pokhitonov's view of Chepyzh. Andryusha is back. It rained all day. Lyova is tense and nervous and his plans are erratic. I live only for today, with the happy certainty that every day brings me closer to death.

 

24th
. No rain today. Very warm, the hay is still lying on the ground. I did a painting in oils and am very dissatisfied with the results. One cannot get far if one has no training and is almost blind.

 

25th
. A wonderful evening—the light, the sunset, the fresh green, the flowers…and the more beautiful it is, the sadder I feel. At the grave I met some young people who had come to pay their respects; I asked them not to touch my flowers and roses.

 

28th
. My son Seryozha's birthday today. I was going to visit him but who needs me there? I sobbed as I remembered his birth 48 years ago. I was just 18.

 

29th
. Today is fine and cool. I tried hard to stifle my grief—mowed hay, pumped water and took a long walk with Yulia Igumnova to the plot of land I have bought in Telyatinki and the birch grove. I spent the evening with my sons. None of them is happy—how sad!

 

4th July
. Worked hard photographing Lev Nik.'s private diary “for himself alone”. It makes painful reading! My poor Lyovochka, we were so estranged at the end! I feel it was my fault, yet I was so unhappy myself! I took a long walk after dinner with Andryusha, Katya and Yulia. Mown hay lying everywhere. We walked across the meadow and along the Voronka, returning by the swimming-pool path, to the grave. I knitted all evening. Painful discussions about the will.

 

6th
. Today Biryukov brought two hundred peasant teachers, men and women, to look round the house, the estate and Lev Nikolaevich's grave. I helped and talked to them, and met with a great deal of sympathy. This evening I pasted newspaper cuttings. Another
insufferable polemic inspired by an article of Chertkov's! The rain has ruined the hay.

 

10th
. There were about 140 visitors to the house today, and even more at the grave. I took some of them round the house myself and read the second notebook of Lev Nik.'s letters to me. It's sad to recall the past, but sometimes it's good too.

 

16th
. Couldn't sleep last night, took some veronal and got up late. Went to Sasha's house in Telyatinki to see my sister-in-law Maria Nikolaevna. Discussions and tears. I learnt nothing new, apart from the fact that a chapter in
Resurrection
called ‘The Liturgy' has been published abroad.* Lev Nik. had promised his sister not to publish this chapter, but Chertkov has already done so.

 

17th
. A very busy day. Crowds of visitors to the grave and house. Artists taking photographs for Merkurov the sculptor, who has been commissioned to produce a relief map of Yasnaya Polyana.

 

19th
. Our dear nun, L.N.'s sister Maria Nikolaevna, came for the day. Discussions, memories…I have seen my daughter Sasha twice now, and we are getting on better.

 

21st
. Endless bustle all day, but I feel free of it all. My grief at losing Lev Nikolaevich is so solemn and profound, nothing else seems important.

 

24th
. What turmoil. My son Ilya, his wife Sonya and my nephew Sanya Kuzminsky paid a brief visit. Maria Nikolaevna came, and some Serbian doctor, an acquaintance of Makovitsky. Then Gusev, who has just returned from exile. There were 15 for dinner.

 

26th
. Maria Nikolaevna said Chertkov had taken six photographs of her, and in all of them he had been in the picture, and Sasha too. How unpleasant! More gales, thunderstorms and rain. A dead branch has come down over the grave.

 

31st
. More guests. All these visits are completely lacking in soul, love or joy. It makes me sad. I have given so much love to other people, and have met so much injustice, coldness and censure.

 

6th August
. Went to Telyatinki to see Sasha, and had a talk with my sister-in-law Maria Nikolaevna the nun. I was touched by something she said about Lyovochka, who shortly before he died kept repeating: “What is to be done? What should I do now?” She said he spoke with such anguish and despair. I feel so sorry for him! His soul was not at peace before his death. In Telyatinki Olga made a spiteful remark and Sasha ostentatiously left the room.

 

12th (Moscow)
. Went to the Duma this morning and delivered an application for the sale of our house in Khamovniki Street.* Everything there is just as it was in the old days, it's like a grave! Where is Vanechka? Where is Masha? Where is Lyovochka? They all lived there once…

 

13th
. Did some shopping, and this afternoon went to the cinematograph to please my maid Verochka. Most depressing! Stupid subjects for an uncultured audience.

 

14th
. We left Moscow and returned to Yasnaya this afternoon. Sadness everywhere! On the train I read ‘Does Woman Represent God'.*

 

16th
. I printed some photographs and sent them to Mey, then made jam—apple and peach—and marinated some red plums. A lot of bustle, and all for what? Eating is the only sweet and purposeless activity. A widow visited today with her 2 little mites, and how they grabbed at the white bread I gave them! I also gave her 4 rubles. Gusev came. Is he sincere, I wonder? I wrote to Mashenka about the portable chairs.

 

22nd
. My 67th birthday. Why was I born? Who needed me? Surely my wretched life must soon end.