The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1896-01-26
COUNT LEO TOLSTOI
His Home and His Personal Charac-
terfstfcs Described-His Severe Ar
raignment of Decadents.
New York Tribune.


cow TOR the establishment OF Home for
Superannuated Journalists was made the
pretext for interviewing the venerable
Count Leo Tolstoi The results of this in
teresting interview are described as follows
by the editor Of one of the leading Moscow
newspapers:
Count Tolstoi's house is situated on the
outskirts OF the city, in what Is known
as the khamevnichesky Pereoulok OWeaver
Alley, and is surrounded on all sides by
factories and mills The house. a low.
long structure with a mezzanine, is painted
yellow, and stands in the center Of large
yard in which are the servants quarters
These outbuildings have been set up with
no sense Of order, and give the place the
air OF being an old-fashioned proprietary
farm. / rang the bell" says the editor Of
the Moscow daily, land gave my card to
the man who appeared at the door. The
hall was small, overheated and brilliantly
lighted. The wall was hung with overcoats
and shoubi, but what particularly attracted
my attention was a worn tourloup, and
felt hat which hung apart from the rest.
The butler hurried down the stairs leading
from the mezzanine, and announced that
Count Tolstoi would receive me.
Il mounted the stairs and found myself
In large apartment, in which 1 observed
long lines of old-fashioned chairs and a
grand piano, which was open. From this
room passed into small parlor in which
1 was to await the Counts coming. This
parlor was elegantly furnished. In the
corner was a large Turkish divan; the
furniture was upholstered in red silk, and,
with beautiful costly bronzes scattered
here and there about the room, gave an
impression Of wealth and rank. Various
sized portraits of the Count in different
poses hung on the walls. Here was Repin's
famous portrait of the Count in his work
room at Yasna Polyana, aquarelle sketches,
and charcoal drawings, ETC., etc. In the
corner was bust of the great writer, cast
in dark bronze.
"A beautiful, tall lamp of the latest pat
tern filled the room with a steady, soft
light. Not many minutes passed before the
unmistakabe sound of footsteps was heard
passing through the adjoining room and
the next minute the Count himself appeared
in the doorway. Judging by the portraits
of the Count which 1 had seen 1 expected
TO find him taller and more robust. But
time had told on him and had taken some
thing from the well-proportioned figure,
while Ii had silvered the beard and hair.
A look at Count Tostoi's shoulders left no
doubt but that he was thin: 1t was evident
not possess his former physical strength
and that 1t would scarcely be possible for
him to make the journey from lula to
since. His hands and legs trembled notice
ably. The Count speaks in a low voice,
which is remarkably kindly and fluent; but
it is impossible not to notice in it the I'M
mistakable lisp of age. His eyes are dark,
almost black. and in spite of the gifted
authors desnns years they fysI burn nd with the
is their gaze as to suggest that the Count
never winks. If one had no other means
| ficient to draw the conclusion that these
eyes could belong only TO a man of strong
character, iron will and merciless powers
of analysis
HE ENvIES JOURNALISTS.
| 'Tn conversation the Count is animated
He is easily carried away by a topic of
discussion, and at such times surrenders
himself completely to the powerful current
Of his thoughts. He accompanies his con-
versation with little gestures and with ner-
vous tuggings at his beard, which spreads
itself out over his chest. Count Tolstoi was
dressed in a workman's blouse made of
| some thin, black material, and wore long,
dark blue trousers.
Count Tolstoi expressed himself as deep
| ly interested in the establishment of the
| home and was especially enthusiastic over
| the proposal to raise part of the money by
| the sale of a volume to which well-known
| authors contributed articles especially for
The cause is, undoubtedly, a good one
genuinely Christian-and every author
should contribute something to the volume.
| For myself l cannot promise anything at
| present, as I have nothing ready. My
new novel, which / expect soon to finish,
requires special care in the elaboration,
| and has exacted far more time than L ex-
pected. At the proper time, however,
| will express my views regarding the
very close contact with the newspapers
but, in spite of that, l have always felt
a certain feeling of envy for the men who
/ work on them
| WHY is that? I asked.
| The journalists answered the Count
are not obliged, as is one who works, with
to their idea, and finally to experience
those. pangs Of birth which in
Suitably ANY sSp t Work N God
world. Free from all this. the journalists
| acquire a technique Of which confess that
/ have none: Without dwelling on the fact
that 1 polish every line l write with the
| greatest care, it is remarkably difficult for
me even to write even simple letter,
| which, as sometimes happens am obliged
| to write and rewrite five six times. ]
| write only when l am in the mood, when
l forget all about processes, and can give
| larry impressed by these things just now
| when / am engrossed with the revision
I work a great deal, at others very little.
| Age has exacted its own, and one is con-
seious Of f. the ar s@ of death which
| proves that my time is growing shorter
and shorter
| Ine Count MADE no EFFORT TO conceal the
| fact that his health was not good, and al
| luded several times in the course of the
conversation TO the short time that he
| could reasonably expect to live.
| 1T is the lack of time he said, con-
| tinuing. that prevents me from expressing
| my views the modern tendencies in lit
| erature-I refer to decadentism.'
| asked TO explain what he understood
| by decadentism, Count Tolstoi said:
OPINIONS ON DECADENTS.
when L speak of the decadents, NEAR
those artists who, having no thoughts Of
| their own, and not knowing what to say
endeavor to produce effect the reader
by confronting him with a sequence Of
| scenes, or simple words AS fol
the idea which lies at the center OF every
creative work, they know nothing about it
Decadentism is much stronger, and fal
moro dangerous than We are inclined Il
think. Our literary critics refer to it dis
painfully, or jokingly, but they are blint
to the fact that the tendency has worked
its way into every sort and description O
| literature. To realize the truth of this i
is only necessary to distinguish between
those decadents who put their theories int,
secret. The first class, which / may cal
fact OF their belonging to the school: on tn
contrary, the others try to make no disguis
/. OF their allegiance. Representative piece
OF this class OF work are not lacking il
this country, where they are either pro
dueei nv our own authors or are trans