The Porcelain Doll (Tolstoy)
Short summary
Russia, March 1863. In a letter to his sister-in-law Tánya, Lëva described an extraordinary transformation that had befallen his pregnant wife.
On the evening of March 21st, when Sónya came to bed, she had suddenly turned into a porcelain doll.
Her body had become cold, smooth porcelain with painted features - black hair, red lips, and wide eyes - all fixed in place. She stood on a green porcelain base with a brown column supporting her. Though initially horrified, Lëva discovered she could shrink to fit in his palm. Each night when they were alone, the transformation repeated, but in others' presence, she remained human. Both gradually accepted this strange condition and found happiness despite it. Lëva ordered a special velvet-lined box to protect her. Then disaster struck.
She was standing on the table, when N. P. pushed against her in passing, and she fell and broke off a leg above the knee with the stump. Alexéy says that it can be mended.
Lëva asked Tánya to inquire about egg white cement recipes to repair his porcelain wife.
Detailed summary
Descriptive parts of entry titles are editorial.
21st March 1863. A brief letter beginning
On March 21st, 1863, a man wrote to his friend complaining that she had stopped corresponding with him and his wife. He mentioned that she had not replied to a confusing letter from someone called Lëvochka.
23rd March. Sónyas transformation into porcelain
Two days later, the narrator continued his letter to Tánya, explaining that something extraordinary had befallen both him and his wife. He described how his wife Sónya had always been made of flesh and blood like everyone else, breathing, being warm, and having control of her limbs. But on March 21st at ten o'clock in the evening, something incredible happened.
The narrator had spent a normal day walking and riding, then lunched and dined with Sónya. They read together, and he felt tranquil and happy. At ten o'clock he said goodnight to Auntie and went to bed, while Sónya remained behind.
Through his sleep, he heard her open the door and undress. When she approached the bed, he opened his eyes and witnessed the transformation.
I opened my eyes... and saw—not the Sónya you and I have known—but a porcelain Sónya! Made of that very porcelain about which your parents had a dispute.
She appeared like those porcelain dolls with bare cold shoulders, necks and arms bent forward, black painted hair in large waves, protruding porcelain eyes painted black at the corners, and stiff porcelain folds in their skirts. The narrator touched her arm and confirmed she was indeed cold porcelain.
I touched her arm—she was smooth, pleasant to feel, and cold porcelain... Are you porcelain? And without opening her mouth she replied: Yes, I am porcelain.
Looking at her legs, he discovered they were also porcelain and fixed on a porcelain stand painted green to represent grass. By her left leg was a brown porcelain column representing a tree stump, all made in one piece. Without this support, she could not remain upright and could only rock slightly. He realized she was designed for external appearance only, unable to move her limbs independently.
The narrator examined her more closely and noticed that her chemise was all one piece with her body. A bit of the fold at the bottom was broken off and showed brown underneath. Paint had come off at the top of her head, showing white, and a bit was chipped off one shoulder. Despite these imperfections, she was still recognizably their same Sónya, complete with the dimple in her chin and fine slender hands, but all made of porcelain.
In his terrible state, not knowing what to do, the narrator tried to help her to bed.
What surprised me yet more was that she had become as light as an empty flask. And suddenly she seemed to shrink, and became quite small, smaller than the palm of my hand.
He placed her in a corner of a pillow, covered her with her nightcap, and put her under his beard. From the corner of the pillow, she asked him why she had become porcelain and whether it made any difference. Not wanting to grieve her, he said it did not matter. The narrator experienced a strange feeling, suddenly finding it pleasant that she should be as she was, and ceased to feel surprised.
In the morning he went out without looking at her, finding the previous night's events too terrible. When he returned for lunch, she had become normal again. He did not remind her of what had happened, fearing to grieve her and Auntie. However, every time they were alone together, the same transformation occurred. She would become small and porcelain, while remaining normal in the presence of others.
Neither of them was oppressed by this strange condition. The narrator confessed that he was glad of it, and though she was porcelain, they were very happy. He ordered a small wooden box from Túla, covered with morocco and lined with raspberry-colored velvet, to keep her safe. One day he found that their little dog Dora had dragged Sónya into a corner and was playing with her, nearly breaking her.
He whipped the dog and put Sónya in his waistcoat pocket. But then a terrible misfortune occurred when N. P. accidentally pushed against her and she fell, breaking off a leg above the knee with the stump.
Alexéy suggested that it could be mended with cement made from egg whites, and the narrator asked Tánya to send him the recipe if it was known in Moscow.
The narrator concluded his letter by expressing his concern about whether this strange occurrence would affect their expected child, asking Tánya to consult doctors through her father about the meaning of these events.