In The Cossacks, Tolstoy weaves the tropes of Russian exotic with the absurd in the commonplace events. While some have life-changing moment of clarity after a life-threatening event, Olenin’s moment of clarity comes after a solitary hunting trip in which his biggest danger is the mosquitos. Reveling, “But does it matter that grass will grow?…I still have to live, have to be happy. Because there is only one thing I want—happiness,” Olenin considers his purpose in the grand scheme of life and measures being a mindless element in the circle of life, content in oblivion, against a creature capable of happiness (Tolstoy, 83). And so, thanks to Uncle Eroshka’s advice and the unchangeable nature of mosquitos that makes them bite humans, Olenin discovers the route to being happy is to be his best self.

Seemingly, Olenin is rewarded for this change—he allows himself to fall in love, considers abandoning the life of lies that constitute Russian society, and take up the simpler “truer” life of the Cossack peasants, not to mention prove his masculinity by facing down the Chechens. But in actuality, Olenin deludes himself with this “truth.” Claiming his new environment for himself, “my hut, my forest, and the beautiful woman I love,” he maintains the conqueror’s mindset that if it benefits him, it is his (Tolstoy, 130). Instead of disdaining the local people for their simplicity, he disdains those at home, and yet either way he justifies his inclusion in and dominion over his new environment, his new people. But, he forgets Uncle Eroshka’s perhaps most important lesson: “No one loves us, you and me—we’re outcasts!” (Tolstoy, 118). Eroshka hits upon the most salient point in this exclamation: for different reasons, there truly is no way for Olenin and Eroshka to fit into the Cossack society, as much as they might try to relate to individual people within it. Perhaps the most frustrating obliviousness that Olenin expresses* is the idea that Maryanka loves him. Maryanka never admits any feelings whatsoever towards Olenin, save that she does not dislike him and that his hands are soft. Instead she demurs, in lieu of answers, asking questions such as, “What is there for me to tell [my father]?” or “Why should I not love you, it’s not as if you were one-eyed or a hunchback” or “Why not? If my papa gives me to you” (Tolstoy, 149-150). These questions lend a doubt to any positive feelings Olenin takes away from this encounter. Is she actually expressing the potential for love or is she indulging a slightly crazy foreigner who is providing a generous income to her family? Does she have any agency in deciding who she spends the rest of her life with or will her father (and mother) decide all for her? Olenin decides to believe whatever will bring himself the most happiness and so finds himself deluded with ideas of “truth” and grandeur that few people will actually contradict because of his status as a wealthy Russian elite.

*Frustrating for me at least, as a female reader.