Singing in the Village (Tolstoy)
Short summary
A Russian village, 19th century. On a misty morning, the narrator heard unexpected music and discovered five young men from his village were being conscripted into military service. The recruits, dressed in their finest town clothes, went from house to house for farewell visits. One young man played accordion brilliantly while another sang harmony, maintaining forced merriment despite the tragedy.
At each house, mothers and sisters wailed and lamented while the young men barely touched the offered vodka. The procession alternated between merry songs and hysterical grieving. When the narrator asked about a tall, fine-looking recruit, the boy's father Prokofey - a hardworking peasant who had suffered many misfortunes - broke down crying.
And only then... did I realise, not only in my mind but in my whole being, the horror of what was taking place before my eyes that memorable misty morning.
The narrator felt ashamed of having watched as mere spectacle what was actually a terrible tragedy repeated across Russia.
Detailed summary
Division into chapters is editorial.
Discovery of the recruits farewell
On a misty workday morning, a narrator heard voices and accordion music nearby, though no one could be seen through the fog. Surprised to hear music on a workday, he remembered hearing about five men being conscripted from the village and realized this was the recruits' farewell ceremony.
Attracted by the merry song, he followed the sound to its source. As he approached, the music suddenly stopped, and the singers entered a double-fronted brick cottage. The five conscripts soon emerged with their mothers and sisters - four bachelors and one married man, all dressed in their finest town clothes with pea-jackets, new caps, and showy boots.
Among them stood out a young man with an expensive accordion, who began playing the merry tune of 'Bárynya' as they walked.
The village procession and its contrasts
Beside him walked a thickset, fair-haired married man of medium height who sang second in harmony. The narrator followed the procession with the crowd, observing the stark contrast between celebration and grief.
Together with the crowd I followed the lads. All their songs were merry, and no expression of grief was heard while the procession was going along
However, as soon as they reached each house where the conscripts were to be treated, the women's lamentations began. The mothers and sisters wailed with words barely distinguishable through their grief.
It was difficult to make out what they were saying; only a word here and there could be distinguished: 'death... father and mother... native land...'
After every verse, the leading woman would take a deep breath and burst into long-drawn moans followed by hysterical laughter, while friends tried to console the grieving relatives.
Individual family stories
The narrator spoke with a peasant acquaintance, Vasily Orekhov, whose married son was among the conscripts. When the narrator expressed pity, Vasily responded with resignation about the necessity of military service.
'What's to be done? Pity or not, one has to serve.' And he told me of his domestic affairs... 'To be sure it's a pity, but it can't be helped!'
Vasily explained his family situation - he had three sons, with the departing one having married a townswoman unsuited for rural work. Inside the cottage, the narrator observed the final farewell meal where the conscripts barely touched their vodka. A woman in fashionable green silk dress with modern hairstyle and gold earrings descended from the oven - Vasily's daughter-in-law, a former housemaid whose appearance seemed completely foreign to the rural surroundings.
Prokofeys grief and the narrators realization
As the procession reached the village's end where carts waited to carry the conscripts to the District Office, the narrator noticed a tall, fine-looking young man and asked an elderly peasant about his identity. The old man, whom the narrator recognized as Prokofey - a hardworking peasant marked by misfortune - struggled to answer.
When the narrator repeated his question about the tall lad's parentage, Prokofey's response shattered the observer's detached perspective.
His face was puckered, and his jaw trembled. 'He's mine!' he muttered, and... began to whimper like a child.
Only then did the narrator realize the full horror of what he had been witnessing as an interesting spectacle. All the strange, incomprehensible things suddenly acquired terrible significance. Ashamed of his detached observation, he stopped and turned to go home, reflecting on the cruel deception being perpetrated against the Russian people.