Writing to his grandmother very shortly after his marriage, Tolstoy is clearly deeply in love. The emotion comes across in his slightly disconnected way of writing. Tolstoy mixes day-to-day chat about relatives with worries about how long his happiness will last and whether his wife will be able to fit in with his family (let us not forget Tolstoy was himself a count and came from an aristocratic family).
Much is written about the disagreements and conflict between Tolstoy and his wife. This letter reminds us that Tolstoy felt a deep love for Sofia, at least at one point.
28 September 1862, Yasnaya Polyana
My dear beloved friend and grandmother,
I am writing from the country, and as I write I can hear my wife, who I love more than anything else on Earth, talking with her brother upstairs. I’ve lived to 34 without knowing that love and happiness like this existed. When things are calmer, I will write you a long letter. Perhaps calmer isn’t the word — I’m already calm and lucid in a way I have never been before in my life — but when I’m a bit more used to everything. At the moment I permanently feel like I stole an illicit happiness which I didn’t earn and wasn’t meant for me. Now I can hear her walking about and it’s great.
Thank you for your last letter. I’m thankful also that I am loved by such good people, like you, and (most surprisingly of all) my wife.
Auntie is still in poor health. Since her fright she came down with a female illness and she can barely walk or stand. Now it’s like joy has lifted her up and made her stronger. It’s such a shame that Liza isn’t coming, we’d got carried away dreaming about it and my wife had even begun to worry. You are all courtiers, you see. And she doesn’t understand yet — and it’s impossible to explain — how to address people in the proper manner.
Farewell, I kiss your hands
L. Tolstoy.