The Last Station

I’m quite sick of this blog of late, if you hadn’t noticed. But I won’t make any grand or noble speeches of renunciation, because they’ve all been made before - and then I kept right on blogging, even if it was with little above nothing. All I’ve got to say right now is that I am looking forward to seeing the movie The Last Station. It is based on a novel, which is apparently based on the last few months of Leo Tolstoy’s life, so how much of reality is left in it I have no idea, but it looks like a highly entertaining movie none the less. I liked this review.

I've trudged my way through Anna Karenin. I have to say, it wasn’t ‘the world’s greatest novel’ to me. I wondered how much had been lost in translation, because after reading George Eliot I didn’t think either the writing or the human perception were surpassing. That and I just plain didn’t like Anna or Vronsky or any of the rest of them (excepting maybe Kitty and Levin). So I’m saving War and Peace for a hospital visit sometime. The movie would seem to be more about the Tolstoyans, however, and a time in Russia's history, than about the literature (though the literature created the Tolstoyans). It might somehow inspire me to read that epic.

Here is the movie trailer (and would you believe, Penguin just ran a competition for tickets and I didn't win!).