I'm sitting here in the classroom watching my students take their test. I just read the climax of AK and I can't believe that's it. She justs throws herself under the train and its over. All that agony! What saddens me the most is how much of myself and my last few years I found on those pages.
She was uncapable of believing in Vronsky's love, always jealous and working herself up into hysterics. She knew she was provoking his anger, but from pride, could not stop herself. Pride is so destructive in relationships. She was spiteful, and killed herself from spite! It seems like a stretch but after reading all those pages and seeing her downward spiral played out slowly, her suicide seemed to be the only possible conclusion. Now that it's happened, I don't even feel like reading the last 40 pages- there can be no happy ending. Perhaps that's why I love Dostoevsky, even though characters die, there is redemption. Here it was just meaningless death, death because her heart was eaten up with bitterness. What's scary is how realistic it is and the baseness we are all capable of.
If you've never read it, then perhaps this entry is nonsense to you. I just have such strong feelings about it at the moment and needed an outlet. She started off so good and fell so far, without letting herself acknowledge reality.
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