Eric A. de Haard

ON NARRATION IN VOINA I MIR.

In the present article I will attempt to outline some aspects of narration in Voina i mir (War and Peace),(1) both on a more general level, concerning the narrator, and on the text level, concerning narrative modes and point of view. Furthermore I will discuss how aspects of narra­tion function in the construction of the work. In nei­ther respect I pretend to be exhaustive, a consequence of one of the text’s important properties, its length.

When discussing narration in Voina i mir I will have to resort to a number of theoretical concepts that are rather problematical and continue to be the object of literary research and argument. Therefore I will at­tempt to specify some of them. Here frequent reference will be made to Uspenskii (1970) and Schmid (1973). These studies will serve as points of departure. Although in some aspects they diverge in design and in subject, they both offer valuable insight into aspects of narration. I will attempt to modify some of their concepts (notably Uspenskii's) and to demonstrate that a combination of their findings can provide both useful tools for the analysis of texts and a partial framework for narrative theory.

Author-Narrator-Reader

In works on narrative theory and in critical studies there is one field which often poses serious problems: that of author, narrator and reader. In many works these concepts are not defined and used indiscriminate­ly.(2) The resulting vagueness may be misleading and con­ducive to false conclusions.

Schmid presents a three-level model of the literary work in its communicative aspects.(3) He distinguishes three levels of addresser and addressee: the concrete, the abstract and the fictional. This yields six en­tities that must be distinguished from each other: concrete author (konkreter Autor) and concrete reader (konkreter Leser), abstract author (abstrakter Autor) and abstract reader (abstrakter Leser), fictional nar­rator (fiktiver Erzahler) and fictional reader (fiktiver Leser). There are specific relations between the levels, and between addresser and addressee on each level.

The concrete reader is any individual who performs a reading of the text, a member of a given society in a certain historical period, and as such is not part of the structure of the literary work.

The abstract author is defined by Schmid as the or­ganizing principle of the literary work (“dasjenige Prinzip das in einem Werk die sprachlautliche Schicht, die Bedeutungsschicht und die Schicht der dargestellten Gegenstandlichkeiten sowie die asthetische Organi­sation und Hierarchie dieser Schichten in der Gesamtstruktur so und nicht anders beschaffen sein lasst”) . On the other hand the abstract author is the hypostatized “reflected image” of the concrete author, of the psycho-physiological personality of the writer, in his work (1973:24). The abstract author is included, pres­ent (“mitgegeben”, “enthalten”), but not represented (“dargestellt”) in the text.

The same, present but not represented, applies to the abstract reader. Schmid defines the abstract reader as incarnation of the reception required and presup­posed by the literary work.(4)

The narrator is a fictional entity, that can be part of the world represented in the literary work, the re­presented world being defined as the sum-total of the denotata that are signified by all linguistic elements of the text (1973:26-28). The narrator can be mani­fested in many ways, ranging from near-absence to a highly individualized personality. The narrator designs the narrated world. If there are no linguistic elements in the text that point to the presence of a narrator (like e.g. the word “I”, peculiar lexical or syntactical forms), then there is no narrator and the work is nar­rator-less. In this case, narrated and represented world coincide. If there are, on the other hand, indications of the presence of a narrator, then the represented world comprises both the narrated world and the narra­tion about this world. In his turn the narrator can transfer narration to secondary, tertiary etc. narrators, which virtually oc­curs in any instance of characters’ direct speech. The denotata signified in the characters’ direct speech constitute the quoted world (1973:26).

Schmid distinguishes two primary narrative situations: that of the lst-person narrator, who is part of the narrated world as central or peripheral charac­ter, and that of the 3rd-person narrator, who remains outside the boundaries of the narrated world.  Both 1st- and 3rd-person narrators can narrate from their standpoint of narrator (auctorial technique), or adapt themselves to the spatiotemporal orientation of the acting character(s) (personal technique, i.e. German “personal”, not “personlich”). Auctorial and personal narration are the two fundamental modes of narration, or forms of presentation (“Darbietungsformen”). In the case of 3rd-person personal narration, if a narrator does not make himself known as the ultimate narrative medium, there is no narrator (1973:27-28).

Schmid emphasizes that between auctorial and per­sonal technique there are no strict boundaries. All kinds of mixed forms between the two basic narrative situations and forms of presentation are possible.

The narrator must be distinguished from the abstract author and from the concrete author. No statements or opinions expressed by the narrator can be considered as direct and unequivocal expressions of either abstract or concrete author.

If the narrator appeals to an addressee by allo­cution or other means of a dialogistic nature, then a fictional reader is present in the text. This fiction­al reader is not an independently existing entity, but is created by the narrator’s orientation towards an addressee. The fictional reader can be projected as impersonal representative of some opinion, but can also be endowed with very specific character traits, opinions, expectations etc.

Like the narrator, the fictional reader can be ab­sent from a text. If there is a narrator there need not be a fictional reader, but the presence of a fic­tional reader implies the presence of a narrator.

After this outline I would like to comment upon the relations that can exist between the respective in­stances on the addresser’s side. Concrete author, ab­stract author and narrator can be separated by various degrees of distance. This distance is mainly a matter of difference between worldview as explicitly or im­plicitly expressed by the concrete author in a non-literary context, by the narrator in a literary text (also explicitly and implicitly) and by the abstract author (only implicitly, on the basis of abstraction and reconstruction). This becomes evident in the case of a lst-person narrator whose worldview is obviously limited or inadequate, which is demonstrated by actions or speech of other characters, even though they are hierarchically subordinated to this narrator, who se­lects and arranges what they do and say. Here abstract author and narrator are strongly separated.

In Voina i mir the distance seems to be relatively small. For example, the narrator in Voina i mir ex­presses opinions that Tolstoj, the concrete author, in that period of life subscribes to, without a hint of e.g. irony. The opinions of the narrator play an im­portant role in the theme of the work, for which the abstract author is responsible. Yet, narrator and ab­stract author must be distinguished, because the opin­ions of the narrator are illustrated, shaded, contrast­ed etc. by the opinions of characters. The abstract author is responsible for the artistic organization of text-elements, including opinions of the narrator.

A matter of dispute can be Wolf Schmid's concept of nar­rator. The idea that a work can be narrator-less leads to some undesirable consequences. If there is no narrator, then who is speaking in the text? The personification “The story narrates itself” (5) is clearly unsatisfactory. Whereas Booth’s statement that the “implied author” is the subject of speech (6) is equally unacceptable. The implied (or ab­stract) author is not an instance that can “descend one step” and speak directly in the text. Booth’s other statement that such a text is narrated by the character (true, Booth uses quotation marks here)(7) is misleading: it is the character who perceives, thinks etc., but he does not narrate.(8) In a text of the discussed type a narrator is always manifested, as a minimum, by the use of 3rd-person forms. In this case it seems preferable to use the term “personal 3rd-person narrator”.(9) It seems that this broader concept of narrator is more in keep­ing with Schmid’s own model of literary communication and with his model of text-interference which will be discussed below.

Point of View

In most studies concerned with “point of view” or re­lated concepts it is examined at a relatively high level of analysis, mostly in connection with a typology or classification of narrators.(10) More recently in­creasing attention has been paid to lower levels (frag­ment, paragraph, sentence).(11)

Although the concept of “tochka zreniia” (“point of view”) is central in Boris Uspenskii’s study (1970), he does not define it, except by its relations (1970:5-15). But from the ways Uspenskii employs it may be concluded that its scope is larger than in English and American literary studies, es­pecially where the opposition “external” vs. “internal” point of view is concerned (cf. 1970:172-181).

In spite of the concept’s metaphorical nature, I think it is still useful, and I will attempt to define it:

Point of view in a narrative text is an aspect or a set of aspects of the subject of speech of every text element, fixated by certain categories of lingual el­ements functioning as indices,(12) apart from their sym­bolic (referential) function. Point of view is a prop­erty or a set of properties of both narrator and char­acters, that is present in text segments on any level of textual analysis, ranging from lexical units to the text as a whole. The narrator can assume various points of view: he can restrict himself to his own, or can adopt, if only partially, the point of view of one or more characters, or of the fictional reader.(13) In the sequential structure of the text one specific point of view may be maintained throughout (a nearly hypothetical case) or may change more or less frequently and more or less systematically.

Uspenskii (1970) has demonstrated that an undifferentiated concept of point of view is inadequate for the description of text fragments and the compositional functioning of point of view. He introduces a distinc­tion between different planes on which it can be fix­ated: the evaluative, the phraseological, the spatiotemporal and the psychological (1970:12).

The relevance of this differentiation is demonstra­ted most convincingly, especially by the analysis of the non-concurrence of points of view on different planes (1970:136-143). Uspenskii has developed a set of useful tools for analysis of text fragments and of the compositional function of configurations of point of view.

Nevertheless I would like to make a modification in Uspenskii’s set of planes. Following the objection that “(...) the points of view on all four planes are of course expressed by lingual (that is to say, phras­eological) means” (de Valk 1972:168), I think it must be concluded that there is no “phraseological point of view”. What Uspenskii calls “phraseological point of view” is not a matter of point of view but of narrative mode, of auctorial vs. personal presentation. I will attempt to demonstrate that the phenomena listed by Uspenskii under “phraseological point of view” belong partly to the evaluative, partly to the spatiotemporal, partly to the psychological and partly to a sociologi­cal plane. The relevance of such a plane is hinted at by the author himself: “Pri pomoshchi rechevoi xarakteristiki  mozhet proisxodit’ ssylka na bolee ili menee konkretnuiu individual’nuiu ili social’nuiu pozitsiiu” (“By means of speech characteristics [obviously a synonym of “phraseology” - EdH] reference to a more or less concrete individual or social position may occur”) (1970:26). To this sociological plane belong phenomena of social relations (kinship, acquaintance, hierarchy etc.) or membership of a social group (cultural, professional etc.),(14) phenomena that become apparent indicially by phraseological (lingual) means. At the same time these phenomena can have  psychological and evaluative sig­nificance.

Some examples from the chapter about points of view on the phraseological plane:

1)  In Uspenskii’s very instructive example of how topic-comment organization can reveal respective points of view (1970: 29-30):

a)  “Voshla Natasha, ego zhena” (“Natasha, his wife, came in”).
b)  “Voshla Natasha” (“Enter Natasha”, "Someone came in it was Natasha").
c)  “Natasha voshla” (“Natasha came/went in”).
a)  (“opisanie ot avtora ili postoronnego nabliudatelia” (“description by author or external observer”)); “ego zhena” (“his wife”) indicates non-acquaintance (possibly from the reader’s point of view), while the word order indicates the spatiotemporal point of view of the narrator.
b)  (“perexod na tochku zreniia geroia” (“shift towards the hero’s point of view”)); “Natasha” indicates a sociological point of view (ac­quaintance or kinship), while the word order indi­cates the spatiotemporal and/or psychological point of view.
c)  (“Tochka zreniia samoi Natashi” (“Natasha’s own point of view”); the word order indicates the spatiotemporal point of view.

2)  Variations in name-giving in Brat’ia Karamazovy (The Brothers Karamazov) (1970:29). All names (Dmitrii Karamazov, brat (“brother”) Dmitrii, Dmitrii Fedorovich, Mitia, Dmitrii, Miten’ka) indicate differences in social rela­tions (kinship, close and remote acquaintance, official status) and, in the context, reveal the sociological point of view of the narrator or a character (and pos­sibly the reader). In some of these instances there is also an evaluative or psychological element; in “brat Dmitrii Fedorovich” (“brother Dmitri Fedorovich”) two sociological points of view are combined.

3)  The same applies to the bewildering repertoire of names of Napoleon in Voina i mir. Here the con­comitant evaluative element is very strong (1970: 40-46).

It must be conceded, that, as Uspenskii points out, a certain degree of arbitrariness is inevitable with respect to these planes. But this does not mean that these four planes do not exhaust the possibilities. Another matter is whether the boundaries between these planes can be established clearly, or whether it is desirable to make further differentiations. For in­stance, it might be fruitful to distinguish, on the psychological plane, between sensory perception and other “internal” data such as reflection, dreams etc. Sensory perception would thus come closer to the spa­tiotemporal point of view and could account for the difference between the narrator “looking through the eyes of” and “looking alongside” a character.

An important place in Uspenskii’s study is taken by the distinction of internal vs. external point of view (1970: passim, esp.172-181). This distinction is perti­nent to all planes. Of special interest is its rela­tion with the opposition of auctorial vs. personal mode.

In some instances “auctorial” coincides with “ex­ternal”, e.g. when the narrator remains outside the narra­ted world. “Personal” coincides with “internal” in the case of free indirect discourse. On the other hand “auctorial” and “internal” coincide in the case of the synoptic presentation of a character’s emotions. An in­stance of coincidence of “personal” and “external” is found in the highly individualized, “realistic” ren­dering of a character’s speech.

It must be noted that Uspenskii accounts for the non-concurrence of points of view with respect to external vs. internal point of view. This is explained by a hi­erarchical relation between points of view (1970:172-173); e.g., within the basically internal position of a narrator in the narrated world, we can find an exter­nal point of view with respect to a character.

The distinction between internal and external point of view on the four planes may account for the seeming­ly paradoxical case when the thoughts of a character are presented in extreme detail (e.g. Nikolai Rostov’s interior monologue, interrupted by the narrator; IX 322-323 - I,3,XIII). In an instance like this the narra­tive mode is fully personal, the psychological point of view is internal, but the external (“estranging”) el­ement resides in the sociological point of view of the narrator: the “strangeness” of the language of the in­terior monologue is a factor of style, i.e. a phenom­enon of the sociological plane. By distinguishing the sociological and the psychological plane we can account for the difference between “looking into” and “looking at” the psyche of a character.

Something similar is the case in the use of hunters’ jargon in Voina i mir (cf. Uspenskii 1970:75-76). In a sentence like: “[...] borzaia sobaka [...] stremitel’no brosilas’ k kryl’tsu, i podniav pravilo (xvost) stala teret’sia o nogi Nikolaia” (“a borzoi ran to the steps, raised its tail [jargon] (tail) and rubbed itself against Nikolai’s legs”) (X 254; II, 4, III) - the sociological point of view of the hunters is as­sumed by the narrator with respect to the lexical form “pravilo” (jargon for “tail”). Both in the stress and in the parenthetical “translation” the narrator assumes the sociological point of view of the collective of non-hunters (the average reader). In this case the two points of view coincide in the stressed word and are juxtaposed by the additional explanation.

It has been said above that point of view is fix­ated by certain categories of text elements. A set of these categories is provided by Dolezhel (1973) and, in more detail, by Schmid (1973) .

In order to decide which point(s) of view are pres­ent in a given text segment, it is necessary to distin­guish between Narrator’s Text (NT) and Character’s Text (CT) (Schmid 1973:41).(15)

Schmid proposes a set of nine features that ident­ify a text segment as belonging (partially or complete­ly) to NT or CT:

1)  thematical;
2)  evaluative;
3)  grammatical features of person;
4)  grammatical features of tense;
5)  deictic features;
6)  features of speech function;
7)  lexical features;
8)  syntactical features;
9)  graphic features.
(1973:41-42) (16)

On the basis of these features Schmid defines a range of narrative modes on a scale of “personalness” vs. “auctoriality” according to the interference of NT and CT, i.e. the distribution of features of both texts in a given text segment.

Some of these features are obviously directly rel­evant for the fixation of point of view: features 2 and 7 have a bearing on the evaluative plane, 4 and 5 on the spatiotemporal, as well as 8, which has been demonstrated above (topic-comment organization); 1 and 6 may be directly relevant for the psychological plane. Apart from these features there are some other text elements that, in a different way, fixate a point of view, or changes in point of view. First, there are verba sentiendi, which, when at­tributed to a character, signal an internal psychologi­cal point of view.  Second, there are “modal operators” (cf. Uspenskii 1973:115), e.g. “kazalos’” (“it seemed”), “kak budto” (“as if”), the role of which I will go into below.

The Narrator in Voina i mir

The narrator (or the author) of Voina i mir has been characterized in many ways. He has been used as an example of a certain type or class: “editorial om­niscient” (Friedman 1955:1171), “auctorial narrator” (Stanzel 1964:18). He has been described as “rhetori­cal”, “subjective”, as “historian”, “philosopher”, “psychologist”.

These terms fall roughly into two categories: that of the narrator in his narrative and compositional function, and that of the narrator’s image, as an in­dividual. For both categories Dolezhel’s statement is valid, that “[a narrator is a] referential totalit[y] generated for the reader through the process of seman­tic accumulation [in the process of reading a narra­tive text]” (1973:5).

It is undeniable that “omniscient” and “auctorial” are adequate to describe important aspects of the nar­rator.(17) But these qualifications need further speci­fication. I will discuss some phenomena that are con­nected with these terms.

The narrator of Voina i mir is not part of the nar­rated world. He is separated from it in time, which becomes evident in “nashi dedy” (“our grandfathers”) (IX 4 - I,L,I). As far as separation in place is concerned, a problem may arise. Since historical and geographical fact form a large part of the work, it would seem that the narra­tor physically cannot dwell in another spatial contin­uum, just as in the case of a God-like narrator who can dwell above a fully fictional world. But historical fact is incorpor­ated into the fiction (e.g. where historical figures meet fictional characters), it is fictionalized, anal­ogous to geography in many narrative texts, where narrator, characters and events are fiction­al, but geography is “real”. The narrator in Voina i mir as an individual is part of the represented world, when he comments on history and historical events, but his narrative situation is outside the narrated world.(18)

The narrator is not individualized. He does not re­fer to his own personal circumstances or individual qualities. In the “comment part” of the text (general­izations, digressions) the narrator manifests himself as rhetorical, but he remains anonymous, without indi­vidual features, except those that become evident im­plicitly. First-person forms do occur, but only with a more general meaning. The lst-person singular is used only in an impersonal, generalizing sense (e.g. XI 266-267 - III,3,I). The lst-person plural is used metonymically, denoting the Russian army or people, or refers to “the narrator and his contemporaries”. In the last case there is an appeal to a fictional reader, but only by inclusion, not by forms of address. The fictional reader remains an equally anonymous contem­porary.

The narrator in Voina i mir is not auctorial in the literal meaning of the word: he never discusses his own narration, never uses “literary” expressions like “my heroes”, “my story”, that would make one conscious of the fiction by giving the impression of the narra­tor making things happen.

The narrator cannot be said to be fully auctorial with respect to the dominant or most frequent narra­tive modes. In traditional terms of “telling” and “showing”, “scenic” and “panoramic”, there is, more or less, a balance throughout the novel, yet it can be ar­gued that auctorial presentation subordinates scenic presentation (cf. Stanzel 1964:16).

Of great importance is the narrator’s omniscience. Omniscience can be defined in different ways, e.g. on the basis of the presence of the narrator at places where he must be invisible to acting characters, on the basis of knowledge about the inner life of one or more characters.

Whatever definition is preferable, the narrator of Voina i mir would fulfil all criteria. He is most strikingly omniscient in those instances when he as­sumes a collective psychological point of view, occur­rences of which are quite frequent in Voina i mir, e.g.: “Kto govoril s nei i videl pri kazhdom slove ee svetluiu ulybku i blestiashchie belye zuby, kotorye vidnelis' besprestanno, tot dumal, chto on osobenno nynche liubezen. I eto dumal kazhdyi” (“Everybody who talked with her and, with every word she spoke, saw her bright smile and sparkling white teeth, which were visible all the time, thought that he was particularly in favour with her. And everybody thought this”) (IX 10; I,1,II).

The same can be said about instances where the nar­rator gives information about psychological processes that the characters themselves are not aware of, e.g. phrases like “sam/a togo ne znaija” (“without knowing this him/herself”).

On the other hand there are limitations on the nar­rator’s omniscience. In Voina i mir these are rarely of the conventional, explicit type, like “Nikto by ne mog skazat’...” (“Nobody would have been able to tell...”). Sometimes the narrator does resort to a conventional type of limitation, the use of rumors, e.g.: “Ofitsial’no v bol’shix obshchestvax vse govorili, chto grafinia Bezuxova umerla ot strashnogo pripadka angine pectorale, no v intimnyx kruzhkax rasskazyvali podrobnosti o tom [...]” (“Officially in larger companies everybody said that Countess Bezuxov had died of a terrible attack of angine pectorale, but in more intimate circles details were told about [...]”) (XII 8; IV,1,II).

Besides, one could expect that limitations on knowl­edge are imposed by the historical material. The narra­tor poses as a historian who describes and interprets historical facts. This basically external, objective attitude of the “scientist” is generally sustained by the narrator, but in a number of cases it is broken by assuming the internal psychological point of view of historical figures, like Napoleon and Kutuzov. In the first case, when the narrator informs us about what he (Napoleon) saw, wanted or thought, this knowledge might be ascribed to the evidence of observable facts, letters, memoirs, which allow a psychological “recon­struction”, and to a lesser degree this may apply to Kutuzov as well. (Cf. e.g. XII 200-3 - IV,4,X-XI).

But there are more systematic forms of limitation of omniscience. These are typically indicated by modal words, “slova ostraneniija” (“estrangement words”), operators (the terms are Uspenskii’s; 1970:115 ff.), such as “kazalos’” (“it seemed”), “veroiatno” (“probably”) etc.(19) These formal indicators of possibility, lower or higher probability, usually in combination with aspects of a character’s observable behaviour, transmit an impression, an interpretation of this behaviour, instead of giving information about the state of mind, intentions etc. of that character. The point of view becomes external on all planes.

These limitations can be explained simply by the fact that the necessarily limited psychological or spatiotemporal point of view of another character has been assumed, which occurs very frequently in Voina i mir: fragments, chapters and sequences of chapters are characterized by the point of view of one, sometimes more, characters.

These characters function as prisms (Vinogradov 1939:173). In these cases it is difficult to establish whether the interpretations of a character’s behaviour are made by the prism-character, or must be considered as auctorial inserts by the narrator in the more per­sonally coloured context. This is suggested by those instances of the use of modal words, where there is no prism-character in the direct context, whose point of view can have been as­sumed. Here the spatial point of view of the omniscient narrator is limited. There is an imaginary outside ob­server who is invisibly present at the place of action (Uspenskii 1970:116), and who makes interpretations about the behaviour of characters, which, implicitly, creates the impression of a very shrewd and keen-eyed observer. Another effect of the external point of view is, to my opinion, that the quasi-hypothetical (es­pecially when “kazalos’” (“it seemed”) is used) psychological data, presented by the observer, acquire a greater intensity than they would have had when presented as plain psy­chological fact from an omniscient position.

According to Uspenskii there are two basic narra­tive positions (or narrators). These are characterized by Uspenskii as follows: one is a shrewd observer, well acquainted with the characters, who can analyse their actions in the light of their conscious as well as their sub-conscious. He has his own philosophy of life and history (because there is no reason to think of this observer and the author of the digressions as of different persons). This narrator occupies the pan-chronical position of the narrator in general. The other one is the direct observer, who is invisibly present and is limited in knowledge. His position is more synchronical (Uspenskii 1970:149-150).

Against this description there is one objection: the “shrewdness” is not so much a property of the om­niscient narrator, but precisely of the invisible ob­server. The omniscient narrator has no need to be shrewd, he does not interpret, he simply knows. That these positions can quickly alternate or even coalesce in one sentence becomes apparent in: “Mozhet byt’, chto on etogo ne dumal, vstrechaias’ s zhenshchinami (i dazhe veroiatno, chto net, potomu chto on voobshche malo dumal)” (“Maybe he did not think this when he met women (it was even likely that he did not, beacuse he did not think much anyway)”) (IX 271-2 - I,3,IV).

Here “mozhet byt’” (“maybe”) and “veroiatno” (“likely”) indicate the ob­server’s position, “on voobshche malo dumal” (“he did not think much anyway”) the om­niscient position.

To my opinion, in Voina i mir four, rather than two, narrative positions can be distinguished: First and basic is the omniscient narrator. From this basic po­sition there are three tendencies in different direc­tions :

The term “narrative position” is preferable to “nar­rator”(20) in this context because there basically is one (omniscient) narrator, as the unity of the narra­tor’s voice is never disrupted (cf. van der Eng 1973: 332). On the one hand, omniscience and “observing” of­ten alternate rapidly. On the other hand, comment is not restricted to digressions in separate parts and chapters, but often mingles with narration. But more important, the unity of the narrator’s voice is safeguarded by the heterogeneous, but highly individual style of the narrator (Cf. Vinogradov 1939).

Narrative Modes and Point of View in Voina i mir

It has been said above that auctorial and personal forms of presentation are more or less equally frequent in Voina i mir. This rather gross characteristic requires differentiation in order to make it possible to account for the complexity of patterns of narrative modes and point of view and their significance for thematic elements and their evaluation.(21)) For the analysis of narrative modes the above-men­tioned opposition of Narrator’s Text (NT) and Charac­ter’s Text (CT) is of fundamental importance. But the problem posed by a literary text is how to establish which text elements relate to CT and NT respectively, especially with regard to lexical and syntactical features.

In Voina i mir there are some clear instances of CT (see below), but the above-mentioned heterogeneity of the narrator’s style makes it difficult to decide in which instances personal elements are incorporated into the narrative, resulting in text-interference. Vinogradov (1939) has given a full account of the make-up of the narrator’s “language”, which contains elements (syntactical or lexical) from a wide range of lingual and social spheres. The peculiarity of Tolstoi’s narrative style with its more or less striking deviations from the literary language of his period can be explained as originating from two sources.

On the one hand these peculiarities are due to in­fluences from outside. One may think of syntactical archaisms that occur in the narrative, but cannot be interpreted as originally belonging to certain charac­ters. They can be considered as belonging to the earlier Tolstoi’s style, and not as elements of the style of the narrator in Voina i mir exclusively. If in such cases the peculiarities occur also in the characters’ speech, the opposition of NT and CT is neutralized with respect to these lexical and syntac­tical features (cf. Schmid 1973: 43-45).

On the other hand, there are lingual forms which obviously originate directly from characters of the novel (either fictional or fictionalized-historical), or more or less anonymous groups that figure in it. In some cases these forms are explicitly indicated as be­longing to a character, e.g. by graphic means like italics or by formulas like “kak ona govorila” (“as she said”). In in­stances where there are no such indications, these elements can be recognized as alien to the narrator by their conflict with preceding or surrounding NT-el­ements, often of an evaluative nature.

This form of text-interference is found predominant­ly in external personal indirect   discourse.(22) In Voina i mir  this mode is employed regularly when the exact phrasing of   characters’ utterances is reproduced. In the vast majority of  cases the result is irony, because of  the non-concurrence of the  narrator’s evaluative and the character’s psychological and/or  evaluative points of view. This conflict can be explained as the result of homonymy or semantic  polyvalence (Schmid 1973:65,74), which becomes a property of the text elements that re­late to  both NT and CT: “good”  in CT may acquire the additional  meaning “bad” if incorporated into  the  nar­rator’s speech. The effect may range from light irony to downright sarcasm.

Some examples from Voina i mir

“Malen’kaia kniaginia rasskazyvala sluchai, kotoryi byl s nimi na Spasskoi gore, grozivshii ei   opasnostiiu v ee polozhenii, i seichas zhe posle etogo soobshchila, chto ona vse plat’ia svoi  ostavila v Peterburge i zdes’ budet xodit’ v Bog znaet chem, i chto Andrei sovsem peremenilsia,   i chto Kitti Odintsova vyshla zamuzh za starika, i chto est’ zhenix dlia kniazhny Mar’i pour tout   de bon, no chto ob etom pogovorim posle” (“The little princess told them about the incident that happened to them on Spasskii hill, that might have been dangerous in her position, and immediately afterwards said that she had left all her clothes in Petersburg and would wear here God knows what, and that Andrei had completely changed, and that Kitty Odintsova had married an old man, and that there was a suitor for Princess Mar’ia pour tout de bon, but that they would [lit.: we will] speak about that later”) (IX 119; 1,1,XXVI).

In this passage the heterogeneous thematic elements of the character’s speech are preserved,   which is accentuated by their primitive syntactical (polysyndetic) ordering (“i ..., i..., i...” (“and... and... and...), as well as lexical features (“Bog  znaet” (“God knows”), “pour tout de bon”) and  features of grammatical person  and tense (“pogovorim” (“we will speak”)).

Of course the ground for the irony has been prepared by preceding text fragments, such as “Kniaginia govorila bez umolku” (“The princess talked incessantly”) and by the earlier   characterization of the little princess.

External personal indirect discourse is also em­ployed in the case of Berg, one of the novel’s   butts of derision: “Berg tak iasno ob’’iasnil, pochemu on zhelaet sobrat’ u sebia nebol’shoe i  xoroshee obshchestvo, i pochemu eto budet emu priiatno, i pochemu on dlia kart i dlia chego-nibud’ durnogo zhaleet den’gi, no dlia xoroshego obshchestva gotov i ponesti rasxody, chto P’er  ne mog otkazat’sia i obeshchalsia byt’” (“Berg explained so clearly why he wanted to have a nice and small company at his place, and why he found that pleasant, and why he would not spend money on cards or on something bad, but that for some nice company he was willing to go to some expenses, that Pierre could not refuse and promised he would come”)(X 212; II,3,XX).

In the chapter from which this fragment has been taken there are subtle and rapid changes of narrative mode, that lend diversity to Berg’s portrayal: external description of his behaviour by  the narrator, the character’s direct discourse, external in dialogue and short monologue, internal   in the rendering of his thoughts, directly and indirectly. The latter variety, internal indirect discourse, contains a strong per­sonal element: “Berg ulybnulsia s soznaniem svoego prevosxodstva nad slaboi zhenshchinoi i zamolchal, podumav, chto vse-taki eta milaia zhena ego est’ slabaia zhenshchina, kotoraia ne mozhet postignut’ chto sostavliaet dostoinstvo muzhchiny - ein Mann zu sein” (“Berg smiled, conscious of his superiority to a weak woman and fell silent, as he reflected that, after all, this sweet wife of his was a weak woman, who cannot understand what constitutes the virtue of a man - ein Mann zu sein” (X 213; II,3,XX).

It is interesting to note that Berg constitutes an exception to the general rule, that in Voina i mir there is a discrepancy between what characters (es­pecially the “negative” ones, but also the   “positive” ones) do, say and think. Berg’s behaviour, speech and thought are in full harmony,   although not harmony of a positive kind. This becomes apparent from the incorpor­ation of   personal elements into the narrator’s dis­course, which create the irony.

This narrative mode is employed also in: “Proexav neskol’ko shagov molcha, Napoleon obratilsia k Bert’e i skazal, chto on xochet ispytat’ deistvie, kotoroe proizvedet sur cet enfant du Don izvestie o tom, chto chelovek, s  kotorym govorit etot enfant du Don, est’ sam imperator, tot samyi imperator, kotoryi napisal na  piramidax bessmertno-pobedonosnoe imia” (“Napoleon rode a few paces in silence, turned to Berthier and said that he wanted to see the impact on this enfant du Don when he would be told that the man with whom this enfant du Don was talking was the Emperor himself, that very same Emperor, who wrote his immortal-victorious name on the pyramids”) (XI 133; III,2,VII). Here Napoleon (and simultaneously the historian Thiers, who is partly responsible for the phrasings) is made the targets of bitter mockery.

It must be noted that external personal indirect discourse is sometimes used without any apparent ironi­cal function, but merely in order to preserve (historical) authenticity, e.g. in:

“Balashev, byvshii vse vremia obeda nastorozhe, otvechal, chto comme tout chemin mene a Rome, tout chemin mene a Moscou, chto est’ mnogo dorog, i chto v chisle etix raznyx putei est’   doroga na Poltavu, kotoruiu izbral Karl XII...” (“Balashov, who had been on his guard all the time during dinner, replied that, comme tout chemin mene a Rome, tout chemin mene a Moscou, that there were many roads, and that among these roads there was the road to Poltava, that had been chosen by Charles XII”) (XI 30; III,1,VII).

External auctorial indirect discourse, characterized by synopsis and generalization of thematic elements, and the absence of CT-features, is generally used to render the essence of  dialogue or monologue, e.g.: “Inogda oni molchali tselye chasy; inogda, uzhe lezha v posteliax, oni nachinali govorit’ i govorili do utra. Oni govorili bol’sheiu chastiiu o davnem proshedshem. Kniazhna Mar’ia rasskazyvala pro svoe detstvo, pro svoiu mat’, pro svoego ottsa, pro svoi mechtan’ia” (“Sometimes they were silent for whole hours; sometimes, already in bed, they began to talk and talked till the morning. Most of the time they talked about the distant past. Princess Mar’ia told about her childhood, about her mother, about her father, about her daydreams”) (XII 178; IV,4,III).

Frequently dialogue is interrupted or broken off by auctorial indirect discourse, the narrator summarizing the words of the character. In the following example these words refer to thematic elements presented earlier on in another form. “P’er priznalsia, chto eto byla pravda i s etogo voprosa, ponemnogu rukovodimyi voprosami kniazhny Mar’i i v osobennosti Natashi, vovleksia v podrobnyi rasskaz o svoix poxozhdeniiax” (“P’er admitted that that was true and after this question, gradually steered by Princess Mar’ia’s, and especially by Natasha’s questions, he got carried away by a detailed account of his adventures”) (XII 220; IV,4,XVII).

It is hardly accidental that the five main characters of Voina i mir do not figure in the examples of personal indirect discourse. They are not treated with ironical distance (with the exception of P’er and Nikolai during the earlier stages of the novel), but another explanation can be found in the fact, that, when­ever their speech is rendered indirectly, we cannot speak of fully personal indirect discourse, since the opposition between lexical and syntactical features of CT and NT is more or less neutralized (cf. Christian 1962:162). Occasionally lexical elements can be identi­fied as relating to CT of a major character.

When the principal characters are engaged in conver­sation, they generally speak directly. But often the dialogue is “prepared” by introductory indirect discourse, e.g. “Oni vyshli i proxodili do obeda, razgovarivaia o politicheskix novostiax i obshchix znakomyx, kak liudi malo blizkie drug k drugu. S nekotorym ozhivleniem i interesom kniaz’ Andrei govoril tol’ko ob ustraivaemoi im novoi usad’be i postroike, no i tut v seredine razgovora, na podmostkax, kogda kniaz’ Andrei opisyval P’eru budushchee raspolozhenie doma, on vdrug ostanovilsia. - Vprochem tut net nichego interesnogo, poidem obedat’ i poedem. - Za obedom zashel razgovor o zhenit’be P’era” (“They went outside and took a walk till dinner, they talked about political news and common acquaintances, like people who are not very close. Prince Andrei talked with some enthusiasm and involvement only about the new manor and buildings he had planned, but even then, in the middle of the conversation, on the scaffolding, when Prince Andrei described the future location of the house to P’er, he suddenly fell silent. ‘There is really nothing interesting in this, so let us have dinner and go away.’ At dinner they talked about P’er’s marriage” (X 109; II,2,XI). After this follows an almost uninterrupted dialogue. In this case the two modes are in accordance with the thematic material presented in them: shallow talk and lack of contact between Andrei and P’er, gradually developing into more meaningful conversation and more intensive contact.

It cannot be said, however, that indirect discourse per se indicates, that what is said is of less signifi­cance than the directly presented words of a character. However, in general, what is said in the novel is of less importance than other aspects of the speaking characters, namely their simultaneous behaviour and thoughts (cf. van der Eng 1973:329).

Thoughts, or more generally, mental processes, are of great importance for the characterization of the principal characters, and to some extent, of minor characters in Voina i mir. Chernyshevskii’s often-quoted statement, that Tolstoi does not limit himself to the representation of the results of a psychological process, but is inter­ested in the process itself and the elusive phenomena of inner life (1947:426), which finds its expression in interior monologues, certainly also holds true for Voina i mir (Chernyshevskii refers to Tolstoi’s earlier works). Some of the interior monologues in the novel approxi­mate to modern forms of stream of consciousness, al­though they are still relatively short and realistical­ly motivated, by dream-like states of mind, illness etc. (cf. Vinogradov 1939:179-189). As examples may serve in­terior monologues of Nikolai (IX 322-3; I,3,XIII), An­drei (X 153; 11,3,1) and P’er (XI 298; III,3,XI).

These forms of interior monologue are certainly lit­erary innovations, but they also stand out against the background of other, more conventional forms of repre­sentation of inner life. Another statement by Chernyshevskii, that Tolstoi does not always give such pictures (1947:425), is equally applicable to Voina i mir.

The occurrence of interior monologues of a more co­herent nature, containing “finished” thoughts, is noted by Vinogradov (1939:188). Besides, internal direct dis­course is often limited to short flashes of thought, consisting of one or two short sentences. Usually, these flashes are combined with other narrative modes, notably internal indirect discourse, characterized by an introductory verbum sentiendi, or equivalent phrases like “Ego muchili mysli o tom, kak ...” (“He was tormented by thoughts about...”), and subordinate clauses. Auctorial and personal forms alternate in stretches of internal indirect discourse, which is by far the most frequent narrative mode in Voina i mir employed for rendering mental processes. Against the back­ground of indirect discourse, direct discourse may stand out as providing synecdochically an “illustration” of a current of thoughts or a certain mood, or as a pivotal element in a mental process. For example: “Dorogoi P’er vspomnil, chto u Anatolia Kuragina nynche vecherom dolzhno bylo sobrat’sia obychnoe igornoe obshchestvo, posle kotorogo obyknovenno shla popoika, konchavshaiasia odnim iz liubimyx uveselenii P’era. ‘Xorosho by bylo poexat’ k Kuraginu’, podumal on. No totchas zhe on vspomnil dannoe kniaziu Andreiu chestnoe slovo ne byvat’ u Kuragina. No totchas zhe, kak eto byvaet s liud’mi, nazyvaemymi besxarakternymi, emu tak strastno zaxotelos’ eshche raz ispytat’ etu stol’ znakomuiu emu besputnuiu zhizn’, chto      on reshilsia exat’. I totchas zhe emu prishla v golovu mysl’, chto dannoe slovo nichego ne znachit, potomu chto eshche prezhde, chem kniaziu Andreiu, on dal takzhe kniaziu Anatoliu slovo byt’ u nego; nakonec, on podumal, chto vse eti chestnye slova - takie uslovnye veshchi, ne imeiushchie nikakogo opredelennogo smysla, osobenno ezheli soobrazit’, chto, mozhet byt’, zavtra zhe ili on umret ili sluchitsia s nim chto-nibud’ takoe neobyknovennoe, chto ne budet uzhe ni chestnogo, ni beschestnogo” (“On the way P’er remembered that tonight the usual gambling company was to get together at Anatolii Kuragin’s place, after which there would be a drinking bout, which would end with one of P’er’s favourite pastimes. ‘It would be nice to go to Kuragin,’ he thought. But he immediately remembered that he had given his word of honour to Prince Andrei not to visit Kuragin. But immediately, as is often the case with people who are called  characterless, he wanted so passionately to taste once more this dissipated life he knew so well, that he decided to go there. And immediately the thought struck him that his word of honour did not mean anything, since, earlier than to Prince Andrei he had given his word of honour to Prince Anatolii to come to his place. Finally, he reflected that all those words of honour were such relative things, that had no definite meaning, especially taking into account that maybe tomorrow he could die or something so out of the way could happen that honourable or dishonourable would make no difference any more”) (IX 37; 1,1,IX).

Here the fragment in direct discourse is brought to the fore as the thought that dominates all others. The indirect discourse is fully auctorial at first: “odnim iz liubimyx uveselenii P’era” (“one of P’er’s favourite pastimes”), “besputnuiu zhizn’” (“dissipated life”), then be­comes more personal: “vse eti” (“all those”), “takie uslovnye veshchi” (“such relative things”), and “zavtra” (“tomorrow”) as a deictic feature of CT (as opposed to e.g. “na sleduiushchii den’” (“the next day”)).

The following passage is worth quoting in full in order to demonstrate the subtle shifts in narrative modes employed by Tolstoi.

“Da, zdes’ v etom lesu byl etot dub, s kotorym my byli soglasny, - podumal kniaz’ Andrei. -  - Da gde on? - podumal opiat’ kniaz’ Andrei, gliadia na levuiu storonu dorogi i sam togo ne znaia, ne uznavaia ego, liubovalsia tem dubom, kotorogo on iskal. Staryi dub, ves’ preobrazhennyi, raskinuvshis’ shatrom sochnoi, temnoi zeleni, mlel, chut’ kolyxaias’ v luchax vechernego solntsa. Ni koriavyx pal’tsev, ni boliachek, ni starogo nedoveriia i goria, - nichego ne bylo vidno. Skvoz’ zhestkuiu, stoletniuiu koru probilis’ bez suchkov sochnye, molodye list’ia, tak chto verit’ nel’zia bylo, chto etot starik proizvel ix. “Da, eto tot samyj dub”, - podumal kniaz’ Andrei, i na nego vdrug nashlo besprichinnoe, vesennee chuvstvo radosti i obnovleniia. Vse luchshie minuty ego zhizni vdrug v odno i to zhe vremia vspomnilis’ emu. I Austerlits s vysokim nebom, i mertvoe, ukoriznennoe lico zheny, i P’er na parome, i devochka, vzvolnovannaia krasotoiu nochi, i eta noch’, i luna, - i vse eto vdrug vspomnilos’ emu.

“Net, zhizn’ ne konchena v tridtsat’ odin god, - vdrug okonchatel’no, besperemenno reshil kniaz’ Andrei. - Malo togo, chto ia znaiu vse to, chto est’ vo mne, nado, chtob i vse znali eto: i P’er, i eta devochka, kotoraia xotela uletet’ v nebo, nado, chtoby vse znali menia, chtoby ne dlia odnogo menia shla moia zhizn’, chtoby ne zhili oni tak, kak eta devochka, nezavisimo ot moei zhizni, chtoby na vsex ona otrazhalas’ i chtoby vse oni zhili so mnoiu vmeste!” (“Yes, here in this forest was that oak that we agreed with, - Prince Andrei thought. - Now where is it?” - Prince Andrei thought once again, gazing to the left side of the road, and without knowing, not recognizing it, he looked with delight at the oak he was looking for. The old oak, that had completely been transformed, spread out a marquee of juicy dark green and, faintly swaying, basked in the rays of the evening sun. No gnarled fingers, no sore spots, not the old pain and distrust - nothing could be seen.  Straight from the hundred-year-old rough bark, without twigs, there grew juicy young leaves, so that it was impossible to believe that this old fellow brought them forth. “Well, this is that same oak,” - thought Prince Andrei, and a causeless spring feeling of mirth and renewal came upon him. All the best moments of his life suddenly at once came to his mind. Austerlitz with the high sky, the dead reproachful face of his wife, P’er on the ferry, the little girl who was excited by the beauty of the night, that night, the moon - all this suddenly came to his mind.

“No, life is not over at thirty-one, - Prince Andrei decided suddenly, definitively and irrevocably. - It is not only that I know all there is in me, but everybody should know: P’er and that little girl, who wanted to fly up in the sky, everybody should know me, so that my life is not there only for me, so that they would not live like that little girl - independently from me, so that my life would be reflected on everybody and so that everybody would live together with me!”) (X 157; II,3,III).

In this famous fragment, “Da eto tot samyi dub” (“Well, this is that same oak”) marks a profound turning point in Andrei’s inner life, which is accentuated by the following contrasting auctorial mode. Then the shift back to direct discourse underlines the antithesis of past and future. Similar instances of variation of modes (in differ­ent patterns and with different functions) are quite frequent, such as some passages from the hunting episode (X 250-1; II,4,V).

In the above example, the fragment “Staryi dub [...] etot starik proizvel ix” (“The old oak [...] this old fellow brought them forth”) provides an instance of represented discourse, or rather its most auctorial variant, represented perception,(23) in which thematic and evaluative features relate to CT, but features of tense, person, deixis and syntax to NT, as becomes apparent in the triplicity, which is a general characteristic of the narrator’s syntax (cf. Christian 1962:152). The oppo­sition of lexical features is more or less neutralized here.

This is the most frequent form of represented discourse in Voina i mir, and the basic narrative mode, in which the spatiotemporal, or what may be called the sensory, point of view of a character is assumed, who then functions as a prism, through which events, settings and other characters are presented. Usually, when a principal character acts as such a prism, mental reac­tions to the objects perceived are given, which results in a full psychological point of view. But in some in­stances the point of view is limited to perception, e.g. the crossing of the Enns, as witnessed by the episodical character Nesvitskii (IX 168-171; I,2,VII), about whom we learn only what he hears and sees, but not what he thinks and feels.

More personal variants of represented discourse are free indirect and mixed discourse.(24) In free indirect discourse all features relate to CT or are (partially) neutralized, with the exception of the feature of gram­matical person, which relates to NT, as well as the ab­sence of graphic features which also relates to NT.

In mixed discourse the feature of grammatical tense indicates NT, i.e. the epic preterite is employed, whereas in free indirect discourse all tenses may oc­cur, preterite forms referring to the past of the character. These two modes generally are used to render data of the inner life of characters, but in some in­stances external dialogue or monologue as well. They differ from (personal) indirect discourse by the ab­sence of verba sentiendi and by their syntactic inde­pendence. Of course these forms may occur in the preceding context; then they can be considered as indi­rectly referring to the following syntactically inde­pendent text segments. For instance: “S synom, odnako, [staryi kniaz’] upotrebil tu diplomatsiiu, kotoruiu on upotreblial v vazhnyx sluchaiax. Priniav spokoinyi ton, on obsudil vse delo:

Vo-pervyx, zhenit’ba byla ne blestiashchaia v otnoshenii rodstva, bogatstva i znatnosti. Vo-vtoryx, kniaz’ Andrei byl ne pervoi molodosti i slab zdorov’em (starik osobenno nalegal na eto), a ona byla ochen’ moloda. V-tret’ix, byl syn, kotorogo zhalko bylo otdat’ devchonke.

V-chetvertyx, nakonets, - skazal otets, nasmeshlivo gliadia na syna, “ia tebia proshu, otlozhi delo na god, s’’ezdi za-granitsu, polechis’, syshchi, kak ty i xochesh’, nemtsa, dlia kniazia Nikolaia, i potom, ezheli uzh liubov’, strast’, upriamstvo, chto xochesh’, tak veliki, togda zhenis’” (“However, with his son the old Prince used the kind of diplomacy he used in important cases. He assumed a quiet tone and discussed the whole matter:

Firstly, the marriage was not a brilliant one in terms of kinship, riches and distinction. Secondly, Prince Andrei was not in his youth and had a weak health (the old man especially stressed this point) and she was very young. Thirdly, there was his son, and it would be a pity to leave him to such a young girl. Fourthly and finally, - his father said, looking mockingly at his son, “I ask you to postpone the matter for a year, go abroad, get treatment, find a German tutor for Prince Nikolai, as you wanted, and then, if love, passion, stubbornness or whatever are still so strong, then get married”) (X 221; II,3,XXIII). Here the mixed discourse is derived from the preceding auctorial indirect discourse and fluently passes into direct discourse.

Rather exceptional is the occurrence of represented discourse with an ironical function, e.g.: “Na tretii den’ posle doneseniia Kutuzova, v Peterburg priexal pomeshchik iz Moskvy i po  vsemu gorodu rasprostranilos’ izvestie o  sdache Moskvy frantsuzam. Eto bylo uzhasno! Kakovo bylo polozhenie gosudaria! Kutuzov byl izmennik, i kniaz’ Vasilii vo vremia visites de  condoleance, kotorye emu delali po sluchaiu smerti ego docheri, govoril o prezhde vosxvalennom im Kutuzove (emu prostitel’no bylo v pechali zabyt’ to, chto on govoril prezhde), on  govoril, chto nel’zia bylo ozhidat’ nichego drugogo ot slepogo i razvratnogo starika” (“On the third day after Kutuzov’s report, a landowner from Moscow arrived in Petersburg and the news about the surrender of Moscow spread all about the city. This was horrible! Think of His Majesty’s situation! Kutuzov was a traitor, and during the visites de condoleance Prince Vasilii spoke about Kutuzov whom he had praised before (in his grief it was pardonable that he had forgotten what he had said earlier), he said that nothing else could be expected from a blind and depraved old man (XII  9;   IV,1,II)”. In this fragment the common opinion is transferred to one of its representatives, while the mixed discourse shifts to the more usual ironical or even sarcastic mode, personal in­direct discourse.

In nearly all other instances, standing out against other forms of discourse because of their  rare occur­rence, free indirect and/or mixed discourse represent emotions or thoughts of the major  characters, usually in combination with other narrative modes, e.g.: “Nikolai Rostov otvernulsia i, kak budto otyskivaia chego-to, stal smotret’ na dal’, na vodu Dunaia, na nebo, na solntse. Kak xorosho pokazalos’ nebo, kak golubo, spokoino i gluboko! Kak iarko i torzhestvenno opuskaiushcheesia solntse! Kak laskovo-gliantsovito blestela voda v dalekom Dunae! I eshche luchshe byli dalekie, golubeiushchie za Dunaem gory, monastyr’, tainstvennye ushchel’ia, zalitye do makush tumanom sosnovye lesa... tam tixo, schastlivo... “Nichego, nichego by ia ne zhelal, nichego by ne zhelal, ezheli by ia tol’ko byl tam”, dumal Rostov” (“Nikolai Rostov turned away, and as if he was looking for something, started looking in the distance, at the water of the Danube, at the sky, at the sun. How beautiful the sky seemed, how blue, how quiet and deep! How bright and solemn the setting sun! How sweet-glossy the water in the distant Danube! And even more beautiful were the bluish distant mountains on the other side of the Danube, the monastery, the mysterious gorges, the pine forests covered in mist up till the treetops... there it was quiet, happy... “Nothing, nothing I would want any more, would want any more, if only I could be over there,” thought Rostov”) (IX 179; I,2,VIII).

Another example: “O, kak zadrozhala eta tertsiia, i kak tronulos’ chto-to luchshee, chto bylo v dushe Rostova. I eto chto-to bylo nezavisimo ot vsego v mire, i vyshe vsego v mire. Kakie tut proigryshi, i Doloxovy, i chestnoe slovo!... Vse vzdor! Mozhno zarezat’, ukrast’ i vse-taki byt’ schastlivym...” (“Oh, how that third had trilled, and how had something that was the best in Rostov’s soul been touched. And that something was independent from anything else in the world, and higher than anything else in the world. Losses, Doloxovs, words of honour, so what!.. All nonsense! One could kill, steal and still be happy...”) (X59; II,1,XV).

And: “Vse, chto on videl vokrug sebia, slilos’ dlia nego v odno obshchee vpechatlenie obnazhennogo, okrovavlennogo chelovecheskogo tela, kotoroe, kazalos’, napolnialo vsiu nizkuiu palatku, kak neskol’ko nedel’ tomu nazad v etot zharkii, avgustovskii den’ eto zhe telo napolnialo griaznyi prud po Smolenskoi doroge. Da, eto bylo to samoe telo, ta samaia chair a canon, vid kotoroi eshche togda, kak by predskazyvaia tepereshnee, vozbudil v nem uzhas” (“Everything he saw around him merged for him in one general impression of naked, blood-covered human body, which seemed to fill the whole low tent, just like a few weeks ago on that hot day in August, that same body had filled a dirty pond on the road to Smolensk. Yes, it was that same body, that same chair a canon, the sight of which already then, as if foretelling the present, had aroused horror in him”) (XI 254; III,2,XXXXVII).

And a final example: “Ves’ den’ ona zhila tol’ko nadezhdoi togo, chto noch’iu ona uvidit ego. No teper’, kogda nastupila eta minuta, na nee nashel uzhas togo, chto ona uvi­dit. Kak on byl izurodovan? Chto ostavalos’ ot nego? Takoi li on byl, kakoi byl etot neumolkavshii ston ad’’iutanta? Da, on ves’ takoi. On byl v ee voobrazhenii olitsetvorenie etogo uzhasnogo stona” (“The whole day she lived in the hope that she would see him that night. But now that that moment had come, she was terrified by what she would see. How disfigured was he? What was left of him? Was he the same as that incessant moan of the adjudant? Yes, just the same. In her imagination he was the embodiment of that terrible moan”) (XI 379; III,3,XXXI).

In these passages the auctorial element is still present, especially in the syntax, while in the last two the mixed discourse is enclosed in a frame of auc­torial indirect discourse. With regard to the functions of these modes,(26) it must be noted that these examples have in common that represented discourse is employed at a crucial moment in the life of a major character. In the first example Nikolai Rostov is under fire for the first time, in the second he is in despair after gamb­ling away a large sum of money, but at the same time is enraptured by Natasha’s singing. In the third ex­ample Andrei is lying heavily injured in the field hos­pital, in the fourth Natasha has decided to go and see Andrei. The importance of the moment and the intensity of the characters’ emotions are underlined by the exclusiveness and the basic ambiguity resulting from text-interference in mixed and free indirect discourse, in which the narrator maximally identifies himself with the character.

The great diversity of narrative modes and their subtle shifts are combined with different points of view and changes in point of view into narrative pat­terns that are significant for the thematic elements represented in them, and, seen from another aspect, by their recurrence, have a special function in the complex construc­tion of the novel as a whole. They contribute to its coherence, which is much greater than is supposed by those who criticize its “formlessness”. This coherence is enhanced by the narrator, who rarely identifies himself fully with a character, and by his individual style, which never loses its unity in spite of its heterogeneity. The narrator’s evaluative point of view never ceases to be present and dominates the whole of Voina i mir.

NOTES

1) Quotations are from: L.N.Tolstoi, Polnoe Sobranie Sochinenii, Moskva, 1928-1958, T. 9-12. Volume in roman figures, page in arabic. For convenience’s sake I will also indicate “tom” (“volume”) (in roman figures), “chast’” (“part”) (in arabic figures), “glava” (“chapter”) (in roman figures).
2) Such as in Uspenskii’s study, in which the terms “avtor” (“author”), “povestvovatel’” (“narrator”), “rasskazchik” (approx. “story-teller”), even “pisatel’” (“writer”) occur. Sometimes Uspenskii seems to distinguish between “avtor” and “povestvovatel’” but the difference is often ignored. “Rasskaz­chik” usually refers to a highly individualized narrator, e. g. in the case of “skaz”.
3) In one place this model is called by Schmid: “Modell eines vertikalen Schnitts durch die Erzahlstruktur” (1973:20). This term seems unfortunate in the light of what follows, since it suggests a narrower concept, that of the purely internal struc­ture of the narrative text. I would therefore prefer his other terms: “Kommunikationsschema” (1973:22) or “(Modell der) Seinsschichtung” (1973:14).
4) For a more detailed discussion of the different approaches to and definitions of the abstract author and reader see Schmid (1973:23-24,30-38). These notions are of central importance for literary theory. In the case of concrete works, if the ab­stract author is considered as having (or being) a “Bedeutungs­position”, then to formulate “who he is” amounts to formulating the theme of the work, in which a certain degree of arbitrari­ness is inevitable. Nevertheless it is possible to ascribe el­ements of meaning to the abstract author in concrete cases, e.g. an ironical attitude towards a naive lst-person narrator.
5) Cf. Lubbock (1921:62).
6) Cf. Booth (1961:151) .
7) Cf. Booth (1961:150-151).
8) Cf. Genette’s criticism (1972:203-205).
9) The shortcomings of the term “personal” in English (in German “personal” and “personlich”) are shared by the alternative “objective” (cf. Dolezhel 1973:8). For a critical discussion of “sub­jective” and “objective” see van Rossum-Guyon (1970). [At present the term “actorial” as opposed to “authorial” seems more appropriate - EdH, 2005.]
10) Cf. Lubbock (1921); Friedman (1955); Booth (1961); Stanzel (1964); Dolezhel (1967).
11) E.g. Uspenskii (1970); Genette (1972); Dolezhel (1973); Schmid (1973). Schmid’s concept “Bedeutungsposition” approximates “point of view”. Genette criticizes the too specifically visual element in “point of view” and introduces the term “focalisation” (1972:206). Dolezhel uses “subjective perspective”.
12) Following C.S.Peirce’s typology of signs as represented by Schmid (1973:19).
13) I think this metaphor is acceptable, if “to assume” is con­sidered as not necessarily implying some “real” act, but as reflect­ing the primacy of the narrator in his selective and arranging function, with respect to the characters.
14)  If the meaning of “phraseological” is limited to “style” (personal or social), i.e. concerning the connotations of linguistic units, it can be considered as a subdivision of the psychological or sociological planes. But Uspenskii employs the term “phraseological” as equivalent to “lingual” in many instances.
15) This distinction is more abstract than that between the graphically indicated “text parts” of the narrator and the characters respectively. Schmid’s concept of NT and CT is on the level of langue, rather than parole.
16)  Schmid points out that this set is not exhaustive. Indeed, one may think of phonetic features.
17) The different uses of “auctorial” with respect to both narrative mode and characteristics of the narrator in general is not necessarily confusing, if the narrator’s characteristic is based on the dominance of auctorial modes throughout the text, although this will mainly apply to narrators who remain outside the narrated world.
18)  In Genette’s terms (1972); “narrateur heterodiegetique”.
Of course the digressions (e.g. the Epilogue, part 2) contain narrative elements, but the historical events are not fiction­alized here, they are subordinated to the argumentation.
19)  It must be noted that not in all cases these words function as “slova ostraneniia” (“estrangement operators”), e.g. “kak budto” (“as if”) often indicates false appearance, an impression which obviously is not true: “No Rostov vyrval svoiu ruku i s takoiu zloboi, kak budto Denisov byl velichaishii vrag ego, priamo i tverdo ustremil na nego glaza” (“But Rostov tore his arm from [Denisov’s] grip and with such anger as if Denisov was his worst enemy, looked at him straight and hard”) (IX 160; I,2,IV).
20)  “Narrative position” is to be distinguished from “narrative situation”, the latter being the more fundamental concept.
21)  It remains outside the scope of this article to give a full quantitative account of the occurrence of certain narrative modes. A quantitative analysis requires strict criteria for text segmentation, in order to obtain equivalent countable units. Obviously such units are (sub-)chapters, on the level of which a quantitative account has been given of the propor­tions of narrative and dialogue by Harkins (1970). Harkins shows that the frequency of these general modes has signifi­cance for the characterization of the five fictional major characters. In this article I am concerned with smaller text fragments that are more difficult to group as equivalent units.
22)  In the following I will employ a number of Schmid’s cat­egories of narrative modes:
- direct discourse (direkte Rede),
- auctorial indirect discourse (auktoriale indirekte Rede), personal indirect discourse (personale indirekte Rede), represented discourse (erlebte Rede, lit. “experienced” discourse) and its three sub-forms: free indirect discourse (uneigentliche Rede), mixed discourse (gemischte Rede) and represented perception (erlebte Wahrnehmung). Cf. Schmid (1973:46-60).
With the possible exception of represented perception, these forms of discourse may be either external or internal, as indicated by the use of verba dicendi and sentiendi respectively.
It may be conceded that the opposition internal vs. exter­nal is theoretically irrelevant for forms of represented dis­course, since these forms typically represent internal data (Schmid 1973:51). But in practice it can be important to in­terpret these forms as either “spoken” or “thought”. Very of­ten the occurrence of external vs. internal psychological point of view is of great importance for characterization and evaluation.
23) See note 22.
24) See note 22.
25) See note 22.
26) For a discussion of the functions of represented discourse in general see Schmid (1973:64-77).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Booth, W. 1961    The Rhetoric of Fiction, Chicago.
Chernyshevskii, N.G. 1947 (1856)  Polnoe Sobranie Sochinenii, T.III, Moskva.
Christian, R.F. 1962    Tolstoy’s War and Peace, Oxford.
Dolezhel, L. 1967    “The Typology of the Narrator: Point of View in Fic­tion”, in: To Honor Roman Jakobson, vol. I, The Hague-Paris, pp.541-552.
1973   Narrative Modes in Czech Literature, Toronto.
Eng, J.van der 1973    “Apercu des Approches Narratives chez Dostoievski et Tolstoi”, in: L’Herne Dostoievski, Red. J.Catteau, Paris, pp.325-333.
Friedman, N. 1955    “Point of View in Fiction: the Development of a Criti­cal Concept”, in: Publications of the Modern Language Association of America, LXX, pp.1160-1184.
Genette, G. 1972    Figures III, Paris.
Harkins, W.E. 1970    “A Note on the Use of Narrative and Dialogue in War and Peace”, in: Slavic Review, Vol.29, pp.86-92.
Lubbock, P. 1921     The Craft of Fiction, London.
Rossum-Guyon, F. van 1970     “Point de Vue ou Perspective Narrative”, in: Poetique, no.4, pp.476-498.
Schmid, W. 1971    “B.A.Uspenskii. Poetika kompozitsii”, Besprechung, in: Poetica, Bd.4 Heft 1, pp.124- 134.
1973    Der Textaufbau in den Erzahlungen Dostoevskijs, Munchen.
Stanzel, F.K. 1964   Typische Formen des Romans, Gottingen.
Uspenskij, B.A. 1970   Poetika kompozitsii. Tipologiia kompozitsionnyx vozmozhnostei, Moskva. 
Valk, F.de 1972    “Review of B.A.Uspenskii, Poetika kompozitsii”, in: Russian Literature 2, pp.165-175.
Vinogradov, V.V. 1939 “O iazyke Tolstogo”, in: Literaturnoe Nasledstvo, 36, Moskva, pp.117-220.

* This article first appeared in Russian Literature, VII, 1979, pp. 95-120. For the present version the author has made some alterations and added English translations. These translations are by the author. They do not aspire to literary quality, rather, they are as exact and literal as possible, in order to convey the particularities of the original discussed in the article (EdH - November, 2005).