The Last Station Page #2

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- I'm not...

I don't believe Lev Nikolayevich

is Christ.

- Christ is Christ, but...

- But what?

I do believe he's one of the prophets.

God speaks through him.

- I recognize the cadence in his voice.

- Oh, God, this is unbearable.

No wonder I feel lonely.

I'm surrounded by morons.

- Ma, you're being ridiculous.

- Oh, am I?

I have to sit here and listen to this talk

of love and God and equality...

...knowing all the time, full well...

...that Count Generosity is about

to give away everything we own.

Now, why do you keep going on

about this?

Why do you think that we should profit

from the work I'm doing now?

Which is only meant for the sake

of the people.

Stop writing!

Stop writing now!

In defense of my gift,

please let me demonstrate.

It's quite remarkable, really.

In the same way now,

a society of hunger...

...full of segregation...

I understand...

...not only with my mindV or heart...

- It's... It's your voice.

...but with my soulV

that the existence...

...of tens of thousands...

- It's your voice.

It's wonderful. It's wonderful!

It's tiresome.

Another remarkable invention

will supersede it.

Please excuse me.

No matter what all the learned men

in the world say...

Lev Nikolayevich

is something of a Luddite, I fear.

It is a crime.

And one committed not once,

but constantly.

I knew that IV with my luxury...

That's better.

That's nice.

That's very nice indeed.

Do your parents

often speak to each other so bluntly?

Mama doesn't understand

my father's goals...

...not since his work as a novelist

became secondary.

His commitment to the spiritual life

offends her.

They've fought about it for years.

Well, I'm sure she means well by it.

I see a fine young man before me.

Clear eyes, nice features...

...rather handsome

in a peculiar sort of a way.

Thank you, countess.

Oh, please,

call me Sofya Andreyevna.

We don't stand on formality here,

as you may have noticed.

No, no.

So many young men nowadays...

...spoil their good looks

with loose living, but you...

...you're a real Tolstoyan,

I can tell that.

Well, thank you. I have to say,

I admire your husband immensely.

Oh, very good.

Excellent. He likes that.

Well, his ideas are beautiful.

Social justice, the very concept...

Yes, he's very grateful for the help

you've been giving him.

He told me that himself.

He's rather surprised...

...that a young man like you

can be quite so diligent.

When he was your age,

he was whoring in the Caucasus.

Couldn't get enough of it.

Yes, he wrote all about it.

He even gave me a copy,

so I could read all the details.

- Would you like some more jam?

- Yes, thank you.

- Have you read War and Peace?

- Yes, many times.

Twice.

You know, when Lev was writing it...

Oh, this was ages ago...

...long before Chertkov

created that monstrosity at Telyatinki...

...over all that fake religion

and revolutionary nonsense.

What do you think of Chertkov,

by the way?

Well, I think that he's...

He's given me

a wonderful opportunity.

Yes, but you can see

what a pompous fool he is...

...what a self-serving

puritanical idiot.

It's been very pleasant

since he's been locked in his house.

Right.

So, anyway, when he was writing it,

in the mid-'60s...

...he used to bring me pages

to copy every day...

...because I was the only one who

could understand his writing or notes.

Do you know I copied out

War and Peace six times?

Six times?

I could understand

his intentions too.

So every afternoon, we'd have tea

and we'd discuss changes.

And I'd say to him:

"Natasha wouldn't speak to Prince

Andrei like that. No woman would. "

Or, "Pierre's too simple here.

He's not an idiot. "

You know, things like that.

But I don't count anymore.

You must help me,

Vladimir Fedorovich.

Oh, Valentin Fedorovich.

I only want what's best for my husband

and my family.

If it was for me alone,

I could tolerate the situation...

...but I cannot stand by while

they steal my children's inheritance.

Well, I don't believe anybody

wants to do that.

I don't. I mean...

Theft goes against the principles

of Tolstoy thought.

I have a little gift for you.

It's a diary.

You know, everyone

should always keep a diary.

Yes, it's a very popular activity

around here.

You're teasing us.

But I trust you'll write the truth.

Well, that may not be so easy.

Nonsense. You've been listening

to your friends at Telyatinki.

No, no, just write

what you see around you.

What you see.

You're finished for the day?

Yes, he didn't need me

this afternoon.

I thought I'd come back here...

...and lend a hand.

You know, Lev Nikolayevich

considers himself a liberal...

...but he doesn't approve of women

doing physical labor.

- Don't you find that reactionary?

- No.

I find it sweet.

I find you reactionary.

What do you talk about

when you're with him?

We...

- Why are you blushing?

- I'm not.

We talk about me.

- Really?

- Yes.

He wants to know about my family,

my upbringing.

My connection to God

and my relations with women.

What relations are these?

All right, it's all right.

Well done.

I had a lover before I came here.

He was headmaster of the school

where I taught.

He was married.

He was happily married.

It was difficult.

We could make love only at school.

At school?

In the gymnasium,

after the girls had gone.

I see. I see.

- There you are.

- Have I upset you?

No.

No, I find you...

I appreciate your frankness.

- But you disapprove of me?

- No!

- I see it in your eyes.

- Not at all.

No. I think sexual behavior...

...and intercourse...

...how two men, or two women...

...or men and women...

...animals,

combine their physical parts...

...I find it completely neutral.

Listen to you.

You're a prig.

You're just like Sergeyenko. I mean,

why else would they have hired you?

- That's not fair.

- I don't care if it's fair. It's true.

That's it.

- I'm going.

- Do as you like.

Valentin Fedorovich?

Yes?

You forgot your horse.

Yes.

Where's Papa?

I had a dream last night,

about a Tartar girl I knew in the war.

A girl who died?

No, no, no. Just a girl

I had sexual intercourse with.

Sometimes, we did it twice a day.

God bless you.

I've never forgotten our time together.

The positions of our bodies,

and the taste of her.

It was a long time ago.

Really, you mustn't torture yourself.

Torture? You are a virgin,

aren't you?

Well, I try to be.

I mean, I try to be...

To what, to be a good Tolstoyan?

Let me assure you that

I'm not a very good Tolstoyan myself.

You should think twice

before asking my advice on anything.

"Torture. "

Kalya was her name.

She's an old woman now.

White hair, old body, like me.

Hardly remember my name,

I suspect.

She may even be dead.

Do you think all that

meant something?

What do you mean?

Well, I mean, that little romance.

Was there some meaning to it?

Well, I think you would say...

I mean...

...I think I've read where you say

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