Book 1: The Death of Ivan Ilyich by Leo Tolstoy
After having abandoned Instagram for posting my book reviews, I have found a new home for them here on my blog. While book-hopping a stray Internet comment recommended this Tolstoy novella to whoever might be reading to reconsider what it meant to be alive. I picked it up because this character shares its name with another Ivan in another book I have been reading. I also picked it up because I was ruminating over what my life means and what purpose am I following? I have been re-evaluating the directions in which I am expending my energy and the calls that I am responding to. Like W.C. Fields said, ‘It ain’t what they call you, it’s what you answer to’.
To think that Tolstoy’s character Ivan was thinking about these very same questions a hundred years ago alleviates my overthinking mind. I found this novella very engaging in its prose, vivid in its visuals, and wise in its timelessness. I can still see the halls of Ivan’s house, the snow covered journeys Tolstoy’s character makes, and the frustrated faces of Ivan’s family. Illness doesn’t affect only the infirm but everyone around them albeit differently. The touch of wisdom in the last few pages is a glib warning from the past to the present.
For me, this book is a great introduction to Tolstoy’s writing. I look forward to reading more.
🌟 3.5/5
amarllyis 
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