seriesofevermoreexpensivedoctors.Noneofthemcan
agree on a diagnosis, and theremedies theygivehim
accomplishnothing.ForIlyich,itisalltorture,and he
simmers and rages at his situation.
“WhattormentedIvanIlyichmost,”Tolstoywrites,“was
thedeception, thelie, which for some reason theyall
accepted,thathewasnotdyingbutwassimplyill,andhe
onlyneedkeepquietandundergoatreatmentandthen
something very good would result.” Ivan Ilyich has
flashesofhopethatmaybethingswillturnaround,butas
hegrowsweakerandmoreemaciatedheknowswhatis
happening. He lives in mounting anguish and fear of
death.Butdeathisnotasubjectthathisdoctors,friends,
orfamilycancountenance.Thatiswhatcauseshimhis
most profound pain.
“Noone pitied himas he wishedto be pitied,”writes
Tolstoy.“At certainmoments afterprolongedsuffering
he wished most of all (though he would have been
ashamedtoconfessit)forsomeonetopityhimasasick
childispitied.Helongedtobepettedandcomforted.He
knew he wasan importantfunctionary, that he had a
beardturninggrey,andthatthereforewhathelongedfor
was impossible, but still he longed for it.”
Aswemedicalstudentssawit,thefailureofthosearound
IvanIlyichto offercomfortortoacknowledge whatis
happeningtohimwasafailureofcharacterandculture.
The late-nineteenth-century Russia of Tolstoy’s story
seemed harsh and almost primitive to us. Just as we
believedthatmodernmedicinecouldprobablyhavecured
IvanIlyichofwhateverdiseasehehad,sotoowetookfor
granted that honesty and kindness were basic