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. 

Short , hard and unforgettable

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.

Don't read this book in the exam week

"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.

"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.

Damn okay

Ha ha ha ha ha ha *drops law school*

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.

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

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.

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.

1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die #205 The Death of Ivan Ilych is an 1886 Russian novella that explores themes of mortality, morality, and the meaning of life. We follow a high court judge named Ivan Ilych Golovin through his final moments leading up to his death as he reflects on all he's done in his life and ponders the true purpose of living. I honestly (truly) was not expecting to love this story as much as I did. I was very intimidated by Russian classics because they can be a bit depressing to read at times, but there's something that's refreshingly frank about the way Tolstoy told this story. We got a glimpse into the little moments of Ivan Ilych's life in a way I haven't seen many other writers execute and I thought it was brilliant. Tolstoy also wrote The Death of Ivan Ilych shortly after he suffered an existential crisis. He then converted to Russian Orthodox, discovered that the church was corrupt due to it's influence with government, and then left the church. Along with his personal experiences with government corruption, the 1880's in Russia also brought the assassination of Alexander II, who was succeeded by Alexander III (a tyrannical ruler who imposed harsh rules to maintain his power.) Tolstoy's beliefs on religion and politics are intrinsically connected to this novella, and you can see that in the very first chapter when he mocks all of the men who are vying to replace Ivan Ilych as high court judge. These are people who may have called him friend and played games with him and yet they're all more worried about what fortunes may fall on them now that Ivan Ilych is out of the picture. Despite Ivan Ilych being the antithesis of a likeable character, I couldn't help but feel sorry for what he was going through and for the time that he had lost believing that there was only one proper way to live a good life and that involved always being proper and often being unhappy. This novella may have only been 96 pages, but it was a very emotionally heavy piece that makes you think long and hard about what defines a 'good' life. I really enjoyed it.

the first half of this book was hard for me to get through, a bit dense as it is, yet the later chapters, after everything goes downhill, felt like falling for me, too. i was, along with ivan ilych, refusing the imminent despite knowing it was coming. now that i’ve finished the book i understand that, in order to fully grasp the character of ivan ilych and the meaning of his death, those chapters where nothing of interest truly happened are needed. the writing style, although i’m aware a translation can never be as faithful to the original text as we wished it could be, isn’t my cup of tea either, but it was good, it delivered some punches with its prose, and it allowed me to learn ivan ilych’s story—or, shall i say, the story of his death and awakening.

leo tolstoy successfully critiques society with this book; poses the question of whether a life lived by the rules, by what we are told is correct, can ever be fulfilling and end without rueful grief for ourselves. it asks, can a human being ever become a person, grow, and love, if it never lets itself fall into the clutches of sin? of lust, and greed, and envy and wrath, god, wrath, so feared and hated by all but so terribly necessary if we ever want to know a joy that goes beyond the superficial. ivan ilych, who lived his life bound by the chains of rightfulness; ivan ilych, who becomes hostile and angry and so lonely the closest death seems to be. as life, his ordinary and thus miserable life, slips away from him, he lets go of his duties as a person who lives the right way and returns to childhood to become everything he repressed for so, so long, but that he undeniably is. he becomes angry, he becomes selfish, he becomes, finally, human. and then, as he dies, he exclaims, “death is finished!” and it is. because, in death, he lived, even as his limbs ached and he struggled to understand. he lived, because his thoughts were consumed by his own sense of self and his own ideas and wonders, and not his duties as a proper person anymore.

this book is a must-read by anyone, i think, even if—like me—the translation isn’t your favorite or you find it boring at the beginning. because the message it gives, the harsh way in which it addresses human nature, our innate sense of survival, is marvelous. it might make you cry, like it happened to me, especially if you know grief; it might, hopefully, make you feel, too. but more importantly, it will make you think, and wonder, and that is enough. (less)

Pure gold.

** spoiler alert ** Er ging een man dood

solidly mid. actually honestly, only the end was good. The entire beginning and especially the middle was just....rough

I have this problem with Tolstoy. His work always starts out so slow to me. And the talk of finances and politics, position and social standing are incredibly hard for me to wade through. But his stories are worth the wading. The only work of his I read prior to this short story was Anna Karenina, which was one of many assigned readings and thus was something to be checked off of a list, not digested properly. I feel like I truly digested The Death of Ivan Ilych . Spoilers Ahead! Once I got past the first five chapters, the story was incredibly moving. As Ivan Ilych struggled with his pain and mortality, he seemed to become a real person for the first time in his life. When his inner thoughts cycled around the memory of Caius, the mortal, I truly felt for him for the first time in the story. It’s terrifying to realize your mortality. Ivan Ilych’s inability to admit to any wrongdoing in his life was also uncomfortably familiar. Don’t we all try to justify our lives, to prove to ourselves and others that we’ve done the best we could? He fought against conviction and death and the unknown as hard as he could, bringing immensely more pain to himself and his family. At the same time he fought against the truth of his failings, he loathed the same falsehood in others, especially those closest to him. He grew to despise his wife and doctors, and mainly ignore his children. His only solace was found in Gerasim, the robust and good-natured man servant who alone in his master’s life did not shy from Ivan Ilych’s looming death. In the last chapter of the story, as Ivan Ilych fought and raged against his impending demise, beauty came into the tale. When his son, who besides Gerasim was the only member of the family to feel true sympathy for his father’s suffering, entered the room and kissed his father’s hand, Ivan Ilych finally gave into the pull of the darkness. In the midst of the darkness, he saw that light existed. Here, in the darkness he had dreaded, was the beauty and meaning he had searched for in his memories. Here, he found his Savior. Ivan Ilych finally admitted his failings, and found forgiveness in the light of Christ. Finally, in death, Ivan Ilych found freedom. The Death of Ivan Ilych was a beautiful representation of the Gospel of Christ, and I’m glad to have read it. Sometimes I’m intimidated by classics. It’s easier to read something more accessible, something easier to digest. Which is why I’m so glad I found this group. I had never even heard of this Tolstoy work, and would have never read it had it not been the Short Story Read this month. Thank you to whoever nominated it, for directing me to a story that moved me.

One of my favorites of all time!

Loved both stories, especially how the first dealt with the notion of how realising one's own death makes us reflect on a life well lived, or realise with horror one that is not. This translation seems more...modern than some I've read - maybe in the use of words or style. Overall a succinct introduction to Tolstoy (since I'm deciding whether it would be a suitable read for a thirteen year old acquaintance); the length, speed and flow are perfect. The footnotes would be much better were they printed at the bottom of each page - that way I wouldn't have to disrupt the flow of the story by constantly flipping to the back, and it would've ensured I dutifully read every single painstakingly noted footnote the translator invested time in.

Contemplating death in the afternoon.

Morbid hey

Soooo poignant, especially in COVID times, where everyone is grieving something. Hits right in the gut.