A. Karenina

El resumen

La historia comienza con los problemas de los Oblonskys. La esposa descubrió el affaire que el esposo mantenía con la institutriz francesa de la familia. La casa se convierte en un infierno. La esposa no salía de su cuarto, el esposo había desaparecido de la casa, los chicos corrían sin orden en toda la casa, la institutriz inglesa peleaba con el ama de llaves, el cocinero había renunciado y la ayudante de cocina y el cochero estaban a punto de renunciar.

El príncipe Stepan Arkadyevitch Oblonsky se despertó en un sofá en su estudio, no en su dormitorio. Hubiera querido seguir durmiendo. Se abrazó a su almohada. Se sentó en el sofá y abrió los ojos. Trató de encontrar sus pantuflas y su bata. Allí cayó en la cuenta que no se encontraba en el dormitorio de casa, con su esposa.

Recordó la pelea con su esposa. Era toda su culpa.

“No me lo perdonará”, pensó. “No puede perdonarme. Y lo peor de todo es que es mi culpa. Toda mi culpa y sin embargo no es para culparme.”

Lo peor fue el primer minuto cuando volvió del teatro, de buen humor, con una pera para su esposa. No estaba en el living ni en el estudio. Estaba en su cuarto con la carta.

Ella, su Dolly, que siempre se ocupaba de las cosas de la casa, le mostraba una carta exigiéndole una explicación.

Anna Karenina

Anna Karenina es una novela del ruso León Tolstoy, publicada en capítulos entre 1875 y 1877 en The Russian Messenger.

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

Everything was in confusion in the Oblonskys’ house. The wife had discovered that the husband was carrying on an intrigue with a French girl, who had been a governess in their family, and she had announced to her husband that she could not go on living in the same house with him. This position of affairs had now lasted three days, and not only the husband and wife themselves, but all the members of their family and household, were painfully conscious of it. Every person in the house felt that there was no sense in their living together, and that the stray people brought together by chance in any inn had more in common with one another than they, the members of the family and household of the Oblonskys. The wife did not leave her own room, the husband had not been at home for three days. The children ran wild all over the house; the English governess quarreled with the housekeeper, and wrote to a friend asking her to look out for a new situation for her; the man-cook had walked off the day before just at dinner time; the kitchen-maid, and the coachman had given warning.

Three days after the quarrel, Prince Stepan Arkadyevitch Oblonsky—Stiva, as he was called in the fashionable world—woke up at his usual hour, that is, at eight o’clock in the morning, not in his wife’s bedroom, but on the leather-covered sofa in his study. He turned over his stout, well-cared-for person on the elastic sofa, as though he would sink into a long sleep again; he vigorously embraced the pillow on the other side and buried his face in it; but all at once he jumped up, sat up on the sofa, and opened his eyes.