“And Levin remembered a scene he had lately witnessed between Dolly and her children. The children, left to themselves, had begun cooking raspberries over the candles and squirting milk into each other’s mouths with a syringe. Their mother, catching them at these pranks, began reminding them in Levin’s presence of the trouble their mischief gave to the grown-up people, and that this trouble was all for their sake, and that if they smashed the cups they would have nothing to drink their tea out of, and that if they wasted the milk, they would have nothing to eat, and die of hunger.”
- Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina (1878)
In 2004, I was working at one of those huge box bookstores when Oprah’s Book Club chose Anna Karenina as their next reading selection. I was the clerk who rang up over 300 copies of the book on the day the book was “released” (with a shiny new “Oprah Seal of Approval”) in bookstores 
nationwide. I was also there when, a week later, dozens of sheepish readers brought the book back to the store for a refund. I doubt many readers would dispute the quality of Anna Karenina: Tolstoy’s novel is truly a masterpiece, evident even in the English translation, which I’m told pales in comparison to the original Russian prose. So, what, you might wonder, was the problem?
I think that the length of Anna Karenina daunted Oprah’s readers. In an age when people read the news through twitter posts and Amazon’s best sellers are “Kindle Singles,” the long novel stands little chance of holding a contemporary reader’s attention. However, as 19th century literature fans know, novels from this period tend to be very long (American writer and critic Henry James once referred to Tolstoy’s and Dostoevsky’s novels as “loose, baggy monsters”). This, in many cases, can be attributed to the fact that many of these works of fiction were published as serials (or “installments”) in popular magazines and journals before they were published in full form. Serializing a novel had an economic benefit for the writer: the more chapters produced, the longer the magazine published the serial, and
the more money all parties earned from the publications. The first chapters of Anna Karenina were published in the Russian Herald in 1875; the full book form wasn’t published until 1878.
Originally considered scandalous because of its treatment of illicit affairs, suicide, and various social and political issues in 19th century Russia, Tolstoy’s novel also
addresses many of the timeless themes of human existence: friendship, love, hate, passion, happiness, envy, compliance, liberty, gender, and religion. As the passage above demonstrates, Tolstoy’s use of real events and believable details – like children taking “shots” of milk and holding raspberries over the fire – lend credibility to the fictional events of his narrative. Levin, one of the primary
characters in Anna Karenina, uses the children’s actions as metaphor for human behavior:
“And Levin had been struck by the passive, weary incredulity with which the children heard what their mother said to them. They were simply annoyed that their amusing play had been interrupted, and did not believe a word of what their mother was saying. They could not believe it indeed, for they could not take in the immensity of all they habitually enjoyed, and so could not conceive that what they were destroying was the very thing they lived by.”
We can see, then, how literary food is used not only for symbolism, but also to achieve verisimilitude, the sense that something is realistic or resembles a truth.
These cookie bars were easy to throw together and really delivered on flavor. Carmelitas are crisp, crumbly layers of oats, brown sugar, and butter bonded by a rich, chewy center made of chocolate, pecans, and dulce de leche. Popular in Latin America, dulce de leche is a thick caramel sauce made by caramelizing the sugar in sweetened milk. The spread is not difficult to make at home – many cooks just boil an unopened can of sweetened condensed milk for a few hours – but it’s also relatively easy to come across the pre-made variety at a well-stocked supermarket. The recipe I used can be found here. I halved the ingredients and still had plenty to share with a room full of cohorts at a recent back-to-school training event.
If you ever take on Anna Karenina – or any long novel for that matter – don’t be ashamed to take it slow. Read a few pages and then leave it for a few days. Take a year (or two!) to dip in and out of it. You’ll be like an original reader! As for LWbookeater, it’s a new semester at the Really Big University, and her doctoral exams are on the horizon: if she survives, something a little stronger than a shot of milk may be in order!

I just managed to finish Michner’s Poland. It felt like an accomplishment. Hope you school year is off to a good start.
Thank you, Lois! It took me over a year to get through Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children. It was GOOD, but I just could not stay engaged in it for long periods of time? Isn’t it funny how that works?
Thanks for the well-wishes. The year is often to an abrupt but good start so far (goodbye sweet, sweet… hot… summer)!
I read Anna Karenina the summer I graduated from college. You’re never tanner than when you read Tolstoy on the beach. Incidentally, it was the “Oprah” version which I had pressured my mother to buy. It felt like an immersion. Now that I’m in graduate school and have no time– I read a bit of “War and Peace” then let it fall off the bed to be found and read again.
Good for you! I was so jaded by the bookshop experience, I didn’t read Anna Karenina until my first year of grad school (I did the same thing with the Harry Potter series. After being the person that had to work 8 pm to 3 am on release days, I thought I’d never find a way to appreciate them. I was wrong). I was assigned to read it in less than two weeks! It nearly killed me, but, like you, I felt like I had accomplished something by the end.
I have NOT, however, even cracked open War and Peace. Maybe we can give each other some time to through that one. We can trade notes in a few years.
Finishing War and Peace for the first time felt like a accomplishment and I wanted a t-shirt prize to show for it. Reading through it a second time and discussing it with a class of 12 people along the way was absolutely satisfying. The Pevear and Volokhonsky version (the same translators on the “Oprah” Anna Karenina) has great annotations for the Russian 19th century neophyte.
Those carmelitas look amazing!
Haha, I love the idea of an “I Survived War and Peace” t-shirt. We should design a batch and I’ll market them through Nb and split the profits.
I had an experience with Ulysses similar to the one you had with W & P. I “read” the first three chapters once and then abandoned ship, but during my first semester of grad school I took a course JUST on Ulysses. It was an amazing experience, and now I can’t get away from the text. That kind of collaborative reading is absolutely why I want to be in literature classes for the rest of my life (hopefully, as the paid professor!).
Did you know Pevear and Volokhonsky are married? Talk about a power couple!
Your cookie bars look fantastic and the story about Oprah’s readers reminds me of a visit I once had in a library (it was 20 years ago but I still rememeber it) and a woman, who to say it very gently didn’t look very bright, was giving back a book. The librarian asked her “so what can I propose you this time?”, she answered very seriously “Well let’s say something between 200 and 250 pages”.
Your blondies-bars look absolutely delicious W
I’d lovvvvvvvvve to taste them