Describing a party in “Ardis the Second,” Van Veen (the narrator and main character in VN’s novel Ada, 1969) mentions Adorno, the star of Hate:
Pedro had not yet returned from California. Hay fever and dark glasses did not improve G. A. Vronsky’s appearance. Adorno, the star of Hate, brought his new wife, who turned out to have been one of the old (and most beloved wives) of another guest, a considerably more important comedian, who after supper bribed Bouteillan to simulate the arrival of a message necessitating his immediate departure. Grigoriy Akimovich went with him (having come with him in the same rented limousine), leaving Marina, Ada, Adorno and his ironically sniffing Marianne at a card table. They played biryuch, a variety of whist, till a Ladore taxi could be obtained, which was well after 1:00 a.m. (1.41)
In Minima Moralia (1951) Theodor Adorno says: Der Bürger aber ist tolerant. Seine Liebe zu den Leuten, wie sie sind, entspringt dem Haß gegen den richtigen Menschen.
According to Adorno (a different quote), “he who teaches that Love, not Reason, should rule opens the way to him who is convinced that Hate should rule.”
In his diary (the entry of July 12, 1900) Leo Tolstoy says that he is seriously convinced that the people who rule the world are completely mad:
Я серьёзно убеждён, что миром правят совсем сумасшедшие.
Chapter XVII of Tolstoy’s Otrochestvo (“Boyhood,” 1854) is entitled Nenavist’ (“Hate”). In Anna Karenin (1875-77) Tolstoy says that hate begins where love ends and that struggle for survival and hate is the only thing that unites people. The characters in Tolstoy’s novel include Aleksey Vronski (Anna’s lover).
At the beginning of Ada the first sentence of Tolstoy's novel is turned inside out:
‘All happy families are more or less dissimilar; all unhappy ones are more or less alike,’ says a great Russian writer in the beginning of a famous novel (Anna Arkadievitch Karenina, transfigured into English by R.G. Stonelower, Mount Tabor Ltd., 1880). That pronouncement has little if any relation to the story to be unfolded now, a family chronicle, the first part of which is, perhaps, closer to another Tolstoy work, Detstvo i Otrochestvo (Childhood and Fatherland, Pontius Press, 1858). (1.1)
Darkbloom ('Notes to Ada'): All happy families etc: mistranslations of Russian classics are ridiculed here. The opening sentence of Tolstoy’s novel is turned inside out and Anna Arkadievna’s patronymic given an absurd masculine ending, while an incorrect feminine one is added to her surname. ‘Mount Tabor’ and ‘Pontius’ allude to the transfigurations (Mr G. Steiner’s term, I believe) and betrayals to which great texts are subjected by pretentious and ignorant versionists.
Leaving Ardis forever, Van remembers Tolstoy's Anna Karenin:
‘The express does not stop at Torfyanka, does it, Trofim?’
‘I’ll take you five versts across the bog,’ said Trofim, ‘the nearest is Volosyanka.’
His vulgar Russian word for Maidenhair; a whistle stop; train probably crowded.
Maidenhair. Idiot! Percy boy might have been buried by now! Maidenhair. Thus named because of the huge spreading Chinese tree at the end of the platform. Once, vaguely, confused with the Venus’-hair fern. She walked to the end of the platform in Tolstoy’s novel. First exponent of the inner monologue, later exploited by the French and the Irish. N’est vert, n’est vert, n’est vert. L’arbre aux quarante écus d’or, at least in the fall. Never, never shall I hear again her ‘botanical’ voice fall at biloba, ‘sorry, my Latin is showing.’ Ginkgo, gingko, ink, inkog. Known also as Salisbury’s adiantofolia, Ada’s infolio, poor Salisburia: sunk; poor Stream of Consciousness, marée noire by now. Who wants Ardis Hall!
‘Barin, a barin,’ said Trofim, turning his blond-bearded face to his passenger.
‘Da?’
‘Dazhe skvoz’ kozhanïy fartuk ne stal-bï ya trogat’ etu frantsuzskuyu devku.’
Barin: master. Dázhe skvoz’ kózhanïy fártuk: even through a leathern apron. Ne stal-bï ya trógat’: I would not think of touching. Étu: this (that). Frantsúzskuyu: French (adj., accus.). Dévku: wench. Úzhas, otcháyanie: horror, despair. Zhálost’: pity, Kóncheno, zagázheno, rastérzano: finished, fouled, torn to shreds. (1.41)
In Tolstoy’s novel Voyna i mir (“War and Peace,” 1869) belyi kozhanyi fartuk (a white leathern apron) is put on Pierre Bezukhov, when he becomes a member of the Masons:
Двое из братьев подвели Пьера к алтарю, поставили ему ноги в прямоугольное положение и приказали ему лечь, говоря, что он повергается к вратам храма. - Он прежде должен получить лопату, - сказал шопотом один из братьев. - А! полноте пожалуйста, - сказал другой. Пьер, растерянными, близорукими глазами, не повинуясь, оглянулся вокруг себя, и вдруг на него нашло сомнение. "Где я? Что я делаю? Не смеются ли надо мной? Не будет ли мне стыдно вспоминать это?" Но сомнение это продолжалось только одно мгновение. Пьер оглянулся на серьезные лица окружавших его людей, вспомнил всё, что он уже прошел, и понял, что нельзя остановиться на половине дороги. Он ужаснулся своему сомнению и, стараясь вызвать в себе прежнее чувство умиления, повергся к вратам храма. И действительно чувство умиления, еще сильнейшего, чем прежде, нашло на него. Когда он пролежал несколько времени, ему велели встать и надели на него такой же белый кожаный фартук, какие были на других, дали ему в руки лопату и три пары перчаток, и тогда великий мастер обратился к нему. Он сказал ему, чтобы он старался ничем не запятнать белизну этого фартука, представляющего крепость и непорочность; потом о невыясненной лопате сказал, чтобы он трудился ею очищать свое сердце от пороков и снисходительно заглаживать ею сердце ближнего. Потом про первые перчатки мужские сказал, что значения их он не может знать, но должен хранить их, про другие перчатки мужские сказал, что он должен надевать их в собраниях и наконец про третьи женские перчатки сказал: "Любезный брат, и сии женские перчатки вам определены суть. Отдайте их той женщине, которую вы будете почитать больше всех. Сим даром уверите в непорочности сердца вашего ту, которую изберете вы себе в достойную каменьщицу". И помолчав несколько времени, прибавил: - "Но соблюди, любезный брат, да не украшают перчатки сии рук нечистых".
Two of the brothers led Pierre up to the altar, placed his feet at right angles, and bade him lie down, saying that he must prostrate himself at the Gates of the Temple. "He must first receive the trowel," whispered one of the brothers. "Oh, hush, please!" said another. Pierre, perplexed, looked round with his shortsighted eyes without obeying, and suddenly doubts arose in his mind. "Where am I? What am I doing? Aren't they laughing at me? Shan't I be ashamed to remember this?" But these doubts only lasted a moment. Pierre glanced at the serious faces of those around, remembered all he had already gone through, and realized that he could not stop halfway. He was aghast at his hesitation and, trying to arouse his former devotional feeling, prostrated himself before the Gates of the Temple. And really, the feeling of devotion returned to him even more strongly than before. When he had lain there some time, he was told to get up, and a white leather apron, such as the others wore, was put on him: he was given a trowel and three pairs of gloves, and then the Grand Master addressed him. He told him that he should try to do nothing to stain the whiteness of that apron, which symbolized strength and purity; then of the unexplained trowel, he told him to toil with it to cleanse his own heart from vice, and indulgently to smooth with it the heart of his neighbor. As to the first pair of gloves, a man's, he said that Pierre could not know their meaning but must keep them. The second pair of man's gloves he was to wear at the meetings, and finally of the third, a pair of women's gloves, he said: "Dear brother, these woman's gloves are intended for you too. Give them to the woman whom you shall honor most of all. This gift will be a pledge of your purity of heart to her whom you select to be your worthy helpmeet in Masonry." And after a pause, he added: "But beware, dear brother, that these gloves do not deck hands that are unclean." (Book Five, chapter 4)
After parting with his wife, Pierre Bezukhov wonders what should one love and what hate:
Вошел смотритель и униженно стал просить его сиятельство подождать только два часика, после которых он для его сиятельства (что будет, то будет) даст курьерских. Смотритель, очевидно, врал и хотел только получить с проезжего лишние деньги. «Дурно ли это было, или хорошо? — спрашивал себя Пьер. — Для меня хорошо, для другого проезжающего дурно, а для него самого неизбежно, потому что ему есть нечего: он говорил, что его прибил за это офицер. А офицер прибил за то, что ему ехать надо было скорее. А я стрелял в Долохова за то, что я счел себя оскорбленным. А Людовика XVI казнили за то, что его считали преступником, а через год убили тех, кто его казнил, тоже за что-то. Что дурно? Что хорошо? Что надо любить, что ненавидеть? Для чего жить, и что такое я? Что такое жизнь, что смерть? Какая сила управляет всем?» — спрашивал он себя. И не было ответа ни на один из этих вопросов, кроме одного, не логического ответа, вовсе не на эти вопросы. Ответ этот был: «Умрешь — все кончится. Умрешь, и все узнаешь — или перестанешь спрашивать». Но и умереть было страшно.
The postmaster came in and began obsequiously to beg his excellency to wait only two hours, when, come what might, he would let his excellency have the courier horses. It was plain that he was lying and only wanted to get more money from the traveler. Is this good or bad?" Pierre asked himself. "It is good for me, bad for another traveler, and for himself it's unavoidable, because he needs money for food; the man said an officer had once given him a thrashing for letting a private traveler have the courier horses. But the officer thrashed him because he had to get on as quickly as possible. And I," continued Pierre, "shot Dolokhov because I considered myself injured, and Louis XVI was executed because they considered him a criminal, and a year later they executed those who executed him- also for some reason. What is bad? What is good? What should one love and what hate? What does one live for? And what am I? What is life, and what is death? What power governs all?" There was no answer to any of these questions, except one, and that not a logical answer and not at all a reply to them. The answer was: "You'll die and all will end. You'll die and know all, or cease asking." But dying was also dreadful. (Part Five, chapter 1)