It is hard to imagine an English, French or American novel on Pasternakâ€™s subject that would not be an orgy of rape or creeping sexuality.ĭr Zhivago is a great mound of minutely observed particulars and this particularity is, of course, expressive of his central attitude - his stand for private life and integrity. Another refreshing quality is the freedom from the Anglo-American obsession with sex. There is no cliche of invention in Pasternak there is no eccentricity either.

His temper is Christian Marxism is dismissed scornfully as half-baked folly and pomposity. It is not, in that sense, a political novel at all, although it is entirely about the effects of the revolution of 1905, the First World War, the 1917 revolution and the last war, upon a group of families of the upper-class intelligentsia and others. Those who expect some kind of counter-revolutionary or anti-Soviet journalism from Dr Zhivago will be disappointed. As Zhivago observes, you must live, you cannot always be making preparations for livingâ€”a sharp comment on the Communist promise that everything is going to be wonderful, some day in the future.

And yet everything in life has significance, just because it is life, the thing itself, and not the abstract vision of how it ought to be for which the tyrants of ideology drench the world in blood. And this final coming together is in any case unknown to both parties, without apparent significance. The old Swiss lady walking past the trolley in which Zhivago has his fatal heart attack was the former governess of a noble Russian whom he had known briefly when they both worked at a hospital during the war. The ruthless partisan commander turns out to be the same young officer we used to know, rumored to have been killed in an attack on the Austrian entrenchments in 1916. Tossed about like corks in the tumult, people are thrown up against one another in all sorts of unexpected ways and places. â€œThere was a Zhivago factory, a Zhivago bank, Zhivago buildings, a Zhivago necktie pin,â€¦and at one time if you said â€˜Zhivagoâ€™ to your sleigh driver in Moscow, it was as if you had said: â€˜Take me to Timbuctoo!â€™ and he carried you off to a fairy tale kingdom.â€ This wealth of gold both symbolizes and contrasts with the wealth of life which will be the precious gift and possession of the son, the hero of the novel. Like so much else in the novel it happens as arbitrarily as if in a fairy tale: the rich king suddenly becomes a poor beggar. At the beginning of his novel Pasternak deliberately deprives the Zhivago family of its wealth, as a kind of symbolic prelude to the revolution that is to come.

Doctor zhivago by boris pasternak