Name: Death of Ivan Ilyich
Rating: 4.091254752851711 (263 reviews)
ISBN: 9781847493637

Hugh Aplin

Leo Tolstoy

Death of Ivan Ilyich

It was this living a lie, all around him and within him that did most to poison the last days in the life of Ivan Ilyich.

And he has to take this knowledge to bed with him, along with the physical pain and the terror, often to spend a near-sleepless night because of the pain. And next morning he has to get up again, put on his clothes, go to court, talk, write or, if he doesn’t go out, stay in with every one of those twenty-four hours that make up a day and a night, each one of them an agony. And he has to live like this on the edge of destruction, alone, with nobody at all to understand and pity him.

One glittering drop of hope followed by a raging sea of despair, and nothing but pain, more pain, more anguish, always the same thing.

'It is only a bruise'

A carefree Russian official has what seems to be a trivial accident...

The Death Of Ivan Ilyich

Luke Haddon

Instead of memorizing vocabulary words, work your way through an actual well-written novel. Even novices can follow along as each individual English paragraph is paired with the corresponding French paragraph. It won't be an easy project, but you'll learn a lot.

The Death of Ivan Il'ich

خير

A Morte De Ivan Ilitch

correu atrás da carreira perfeita, de ter tudo e esqueceu do principal, viver! 

Mirra Mendes

I have been hearing people recommending this so often, the expectations were high, that it changed people’s lives and I thought that this is a great start to classic literature and also a short read. It took me a couple of hours to read this, but I now feel like I should’ve spent them reading something else. I did not have a life changing experience with this book, it was about a man who seemed to complain about everything and became ill and was hurting.. I don’t want to spoil it if you’d read this, but I probably wouldn’t recommend it. 

Olanda

By the time he dies, Ivan Ilych has come to understand the worthlessness of his life. Paradoxically, this elevates him above the common man, who avoids the reality of death and the effort it takes to make life worthwhile. In Tolstoy's own words, "Ivan Ilyich's life had been . . . most ordinary and therefore most terrible." Newly designed and typeset in a modern 5.5-by-8.5-inch format by Waking Lion Press.

The Death of Ivan Ilyich

Based on the reviews and the praises, I had some expectations from this book...I feel really disappointed. The book was nothing but depressing. Thats it. Its true that Ivan ends up regreting his life methods, but I didnt see any progression apart from him fighting his inner battles. Based on the blurbs and summaries I expected immense reflection on life but I didn't see any of it. Just an angry man with a terrible personal life plunging in the depths of death without doing anything in the limited time he has. There have been much better movies and books revolving around similar novels. Neither the protagonist was someone you could root for nor were the protagonist's family members; the only one being Gerasim. There couldve been more reflection and more layers to this rather than nothing but just depression and dark. 

This book just doesn't do it for me, I am sorry.

Aarush Arora

Based on the reviews and the praises, I had some expectations from this book...I feel really disappointed. The book was nothing but depressing. Thats it. Its true that Ivan ends up regreting his life methods, but I didnt see any progression apart from him fighting his inner battles. Based on the blurbs and summaries I expected immense reflection on life but I didn't see any of it. Just an angry man with a terrible personal life plunging in the depths of death without doing anything in the limited time he has. There have been much better movies and books revolving around similar novels. Neither the protagonist was someone you could root for nor were the protagonist's family members; the only one being Gerasim. There couldve been more reflection and more layers to this rather than nothing but just depression and dark. 

This book just doesn't do it for me, I am sorry.

Um bom livro, é extremamente confortável de ler.

Obs: no final do livro, as coisas começam a acontecer rapidamente, poderia ter mais reflexão de maneira realmente reflexiva.

Miguel Alves Rodrigues

A morte de Ivan Ilitch - Principis
Um bom livro, é extremamente confortável de ler.

Obs: no final do livro, as coisas começam a acontecer rapidamente, poderia ter mais reflexão de maneira realmente reflexiva.


thank you Tolstoy for triggering an existential crisis 😍

The Death of Ivan Ilyich (Naxos Complete Classics)

On the downside, however, I feel like some very vulnerable and naive part of me shouldn't have been exposed to this material

Iara Ferreira Figueira

Fast paced, short, chill read. 

On the downside, however, I feel like some very vulnerable and naive part of me shouldn't have been exposed to this material

i want to revisit this book every 5-6 years, mortality feels so morbid and the thought of regretting ones live saddens me, lots to learn as i reread it with more perspective in the future, lots to examine about in my own life and how im prioritizing things

mimi nguyen

Meu primeiro contato com Tolstói não poderia ter sido mais transformador, um realismo psicológico que não condena mas quase nos induz ao erro, e a verdadeira tragédia é que nos reconhecemos com auspiciosa empatia. Como quem hackeia o código da existência, Liev vira Deus e através do verbo, pela fala, faz e refaz o mundo. Propositalmente arrastei a leitura por uma semana e pude vir a definhar e (um pouco) morrer junto com o personagem. Tudo era amargo, indigerível e toxico. Penso que pouquíssimas vezes a arte chegou perto de eliminar a impossibilidade de transmissão da dor. Dor essa que só compreende-se através da experimentação, e quão desesperador é não encontrar tradução ou empatia para com algo que nos dilacera e humilha. Aquele que observa a dor do outro pouco pode fazer além de acolher, então, a cegueira moral foi o que matou Ivan em vida? Por que justo esse homem, dentro todos os outros, não merecia a compaixão que se dá a quem não fez tanto ou pouco? O caminho que orgulhosamente teceu em vida é o motivo de derradeiros questionamentos até seu ultimo suspiro, antes que se permita ir. A morte deixa de ser uma sentença maligna e passa a significar uma ultima e devida saída de uma vida que não foi vivida plenamente.

Não esperava certamente um final tão lúcido. Saí não apenas impactada pela tragédia individual, mas com a fome de reexaminar minha própria vida, rotinas e valores. Mais do que um relato de agonia e audaciosa crítica atemporal, a obra é um espelho perturbador e, ao mesmo tempo, profundamente humano.

Dedico essa leitura, e honestamente, tudo que leio, ao Guilherme. Por alguns anos minha bússola de pertencimento esteve guiada ao que nós dois éramos. Juntos ou separados. E se a terceira morte de fato nos ocorre quando tocam no nosso nome pela ultima vez, o dele ecoará através do tempo. “E o silêncio, o imenso silêncio, que atravessou domingo de sol, e eu chovi sem parar”.

yasmin ribeiro

Meu primeiro contato com Tolstói não poderia ter sido mais transformador, um realismo psicológico que não condena mas quase nos induz ao erro, e a verdadeira tragédia é que nos reconhecemos com auspiciosa empatia. Como quem hackeia o código da existência, Liev vira Deus e através do verbo, pela fala, faz e refaz o mundo. Propositalmente arrastei a leitura por uma semana e pude vir a definhar e (um pouco) morrer junto com o personagem. Tudo era amargo, indigerível e toxico. Penso que pouquíssimas vezes a arte chegou perto de eliminar a impossibilidade de transmissão da dor. Dor essa que só compreende-se através da experimentação, e quão desesperador é não encontrar tradução ou empatia para com algo que nos dilacera e humilha. Aquele que observa a dor do outro pouco pode fazer além de acolher, então, a cegueira moral foi o que matou Ivan em vida? Por que justo esse homem, dentro todos os outros, não merecia a compaixão que se dá a quem não fez tanto ou pouco? O caminho que orgulhosamente teceu em vida é o motivo de derradeiros questionamentos até seu ultimo suspiro, antes que se permita ir. A morte deixa de ser uma sentença maligna e passa a significar uma ultima e devida saída de uma vida que não foi vivida plenamente.

Não esperava certamente um final tão lúcido. Saí não apenas impactada pela tragédia individual, mas com a fome de reexaminar minha própria vida, rotinas e valores. Mais do que um relato de agonia e audaciosa crítica atemporal, a obra é um espelho perturbador e, ao mesmo tempo, profundamente humano.

Dedico essa leitura, e honestamente, tudo que leio, ao Guilherme. Por alguns anos minha bússola de pertencimento esteve guiada ao que nós dois éramos. Juntos ou separados. E se a terceira morte de fato nos ocorre quando tocam no nosso nome pela ultima vez, o dele ecoará através do tempo. “E o silêncio, o imenso silêncio, que atravessou domingo de sol, e eu chovi sem parar”.

In terms of what this book aimed to do, it definitely succeeded in showing tthe thoughts of a dying man thinking about how useless his life was despite following the social norms and formula to make one "happy". But in terms of making me care about the character, well, I didn't care about him at all, which, honestly just shows how great the point came across. 

Mirror

Shidehdeishidi

Christian Bager Bach Houmann

The Death of Ivan Ilych is short and hard to put down.

It is a classic. A reminder that we will all die some day. It is like having Ivan's life flashing before your eyes, slowing down upon the moments of his death.

Wassim

Victoria 

"Ivan Ilych was...a capable, cheerful, good-natured, and sociable man" until... 

"Death is finished, he said to himself. It is no more!" What a ride.

The book was fast paced and well written. However, there was nothing too extraordinary about it.  The overall message was deep and meaningful which I liked.

Ksenija 

jack

"The most elementary remarks upon modern English fiction can hardly avoid some
mention of the Russian influence, and if the Russians are mentioned one runs the risk of
feeling that to write of any fiction save theirs is waste of time. If we want understanding
of the soul and heart where else shall we find it of comparable profundity?" -Virginia Woolf

really wonderful. after reading some of tolstoy's much shorter work in high school, getting a bit more length was nice. still excited to see what he does with much (much) more room, as this still felt a little brief. reminded me at times of a modern candide or a russian death of a salesman, but more profound than either. really beautiful. im 2 or 3 books away in my queue from anna karenina, so this has me excited for that.

sophie <3

Benedict Neo

I think it's really scary to be struck by disease one day out of the blue, and progressively have your health deteriorate, with no cure or hope in sight, and have your own family doubt you, and see other people continue on their lives without you. 

There comes a day when even getting out of bed is no longer possible, you become immobile, you lay down and all you can think about is how you've wasted your life. All your deepest regrets start creeping in, the unspoken words, the dreams that you've put off, the ideal version of yourself that you still have yet to achieve.

It was a good reminder to live every day like it's the last. To not take health for granted because everything can be taken away from you in an instant. Hold those dear to you closely. Don't forget to live a little.

I finished this on a plane back to Iowa after my summer internship with Tesla ended the second time. And it's a time when I still am suffering from GERD, which made me relate to Ivan in a lot of ways. It's a disease that has no cure, that is killing me from the inside and makes me feel like my live is being taken away from me with no cure in sight. I remain optimistic.

jennifer 

a really gutting depiction of the isolation of illness and the resentment it breeds. also the anxiety that comes with the inevitable was portrayed in tummy turning way as well. read very fast

Andrew John Kinney

This is my second Tolstoy book after The Cossacks; since I will likely never undertake War and Peace, I'm enjoying Tolstoy in smaller bites. The Death of Ivan Ilyich is thought of as a masterpiece in terms of its depiction of a man coming to terms with impending death, and I agree, almost completely. My only qualification is that the ending will be more satisfying to a Christian than to a non-aligned party. Having been myself a caregiver for a dying parent, the realism of Tolstoy's writing is clear. The realization by Ivan of the meaningless of ambition and rank at the end of life is expertly drawn, as is his growing intolerance of anything less than the whole truth. The shocking realization that life is over, or about to be over, and the dawning regrets that crowd in as a consequence are certainly meant as a cautionary tale by the mystical Tolstoy, as they should be for anyone. 

Highly recommended. By sheer coincidence, I heard the Philip Larkin poem below recited yesterday, and it mirrors the tone of Ivan's progression toward death:

I work all day, and get half-drunk at night. 
Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare. 
In time the curtain-edges will grow light. 
Till then I see what’s really always there: 
Unresting death, a whole day nearer now, 
Making all thought impossible but how 
And where and when I shall myself die. 
Arid interrogation: yet the dread
Of dying, and being dead,
Flashes afresh to hold and horrify.

The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse 
—The good not done, the love not given, time 
Torn off unused—nor wretchedly because 
An only life can take so long to climb
Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never; 
But at the total emptiness for ever,
The sure extinction that we travel to
And shall be lost in always. Not to be here, 
Not to be anywhere,
And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.

This is a special way of being afraid
No trick dispels. Religion used to try,
That vast moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die,
And specious stuff that says No rational being
Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing
That this is what we fear—no sight, no sound, 
No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with, 
Nothing to love or link with,
The anaesthetic from which none come round.

Rohit Arondekar

What is a good life? How should one live a meaningful life? How should one handle mortality? These questions have been contemplated by philosophers and writers for ages. The Death of Ivan Ilyich was my first book by Leo Tolstoy and I loved the writing and story telling.

Death of Ivan Ilyich

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