War And Peace

The wound in her mother’s heart was beyond healing. Petya’s death had torn her life in two. When the news came she had been a hale and hearty woman of fifty; now, a month later, she came out of her room an old woman, more dead than alive, and with no zest for life. But the wound that had half-killed the countess was a new wound for Natasha, and it brought her back to life.

A spiritual wound, one that comes from a laceration of the spirit, is much like a physical wound; after it has healed and knitted together on the outside, strange as it may seem, a spiritual wound behaves like a physical injury in continuing the healing process on the inside under pressure from the life force pushing up from within.

And this was how Natasha’s wound was healing. She had believed her life was over. But suddenly love for her mother had showed her that the essence of her life – love – was still alive within her. When love reawakened, life reawakened.

Prince Andrey’s last days had created a very close bond between Natasha and Princess Marya. This new disaster brought them even closer together. Princess Marya delayed her departure, and for the last three weeks she had been taking care of Natasha as if she was a sick child. These recent weeks spent by Natasha in her mother’s room had taken their toll on her physical strength.

One day Princess Marya noticed that Natasha was shivering feverishly, so she took her off to her own room, and tucked her up in her bed in the middle of the day. Natasha lay there, but when Princess Marya let the blinds down and started walking out of the room, Natasha called her back.

‘I don’t feel sleepy, Marie. Stay with me, please.’

‘You must be tired. Try to get some sleep.’

‘No, no. Why did you bring me away? She’ll want to know where I am.’

‘No, she’s a lot better. She’s been making sense today,’ said Princess Marya.

Natasha lay there on the bed, looking closely at Princess Marya’s face in the semi-darkness.

‘Is she like him?’ Natasha wondered. ‘Well, she is and she isn’t. But she is somebody special, different, original, mysterious. And she does love me. What is she feeling deep in her heart? Nothing but goodness. But what does she actually feel? What does she think? How does she look on me? Oh yes, she’s a wonderful woman!’

‘Masha,’ she said, timidly pulling her hand towards her. ‘Masha, please don’t think badly of me. You won’t, will you? Masha, darling! I do love you. Can we be good friends, always good friends?’

Natasha gave her a hug, and started kissing her on the hands and face. Princess Marya felt embarrassed, though this demonstration of emotion gave her great pleasure.

That day marked the beginning of a new friendship between Princess Marya and Natasha, one of those tender and passionate friendships that can exist only between women. They never stopped kissing each other and saying nice things to each other, and they spent most of their time together. If one of them went away the other felt restless and soon went off to join her. They had a greater sense of harmony together than they ever did when they were separated and on their own. The feeling between them turned into something stronger than friendship, a unique sensation that life was possible only when they were together.

Sometimes they didn’t speak for hours on end. Sometimes they would start chatting as they lay in bed and not stop till morning. They talked mostly about the distant past. Princess Marya would talk about her childhood, her mother, her father, and her dreams. And Natasha, who had once turned away in blissful ignorance from that life of devotion and resignation, all the poetry of Christian self-sacrifice, now felt such deep affection for Princess Marya that she came to love her past life, and she now understood the side of her that had seemed so perplexing before. She had no intention of applying the same kind of resignation and self-sacrifice to her own life, because she had got used to seeking out other delights, but now she could understand in somebody else the kind of virtue that had previously been beyond her comprehension. And Princess Marya too, as she listened to Natasha telling stories about her childhood and adolescence, gained a new insight into a side of life she knew nothing about, a belief in the goodness of living and the enjoyment of life.

They still avoided him as a topic of conversation, because mere words were liable to detract from what they saw as an exalted feeling in their hearts. This reluctance to talk about him meant that they were gradually forgetting him, though they would never have believed it.