Chapter VII: Part V: 8

WHAT IS TRUTH?

It was in 1890 that N. N. Gay painted the well-known picture of Tolstoy in his room at Yásnaya Polyána.

The picture which aroused most interest at Yásnaya that year, however, was not a portrait of Tolstoy, but Gay’s “What is Truth?” which had been exhibited in Petersburg early in the year and prohibited. After being exhibited privately, Gay brought it to show to Tolstoy, on whom it made a deep impression.

Already in January, when Gay had sent him a drawing of it, Tolstoy had written to him:

“I am always thinking about you and your picture. I am longing
to hear how it is received. I am troubled over the figure of
Pilate which, with that arm, seems wrong somehow. I don’t say
it is, I only ask. If the connoisseurs say that that figure is
correct, I shall be satisfied. About the rest I know, and have
no need to ask anyone’s opinion.”

Though Tolstoy knew very well that Pilate’s arm was not well drawn, he was immensely pleased with the treatment of the subject and the thought and feeling expressed. Feinermann tells us:

“Leo Tolstoy, when he saw that painting, was so shaken and
agitated that for days after he could hardly speak of anything
else.

“‘I am in raptures,’ he said. ‘That’s a master! I confess
that I myself only now understand the deep and true meaning
of that short passage which always appeared to me, as it has
to all the Bible commentators, unfinished and abrupt. Pilate
asked, “What is Truth?” and then went out to the crowd without
waiting for a reply. And everybody reads and understands it
that way. But this picture gives a different interpretation.
Pilate does not _ask_ what truth is, expecting a reply. No!
in the form of a question he contemptuously _replies_! When
Christ says that he has come into the world as a witness of
Truth, Pilate with a laugh and a contemptuous gesture throws
the words carelessly at him: “And what _is_ Truth? Truth
is a relative thing; everybody takes it his own way!” and,
evidently considering his retort decisive, he went out to
the crowd. That is the light in which the moment is seized.
It is new, it is profound, and how strongly and clearly the
picture expresses it! That fat shaven neck of the Roman
Governor, that half-turned, large, well-fed, sensual body,
that out-stretched arm with its gesture of contempt--are all
splendid--it is alive. It breathes and impresses itself on
the memory for ever. And the face.... Together with all the
dignity of that Roman figure there goes a slavish anxiety
about himself: the mean trepidation of a petty soul. He is
afraid he may be denounced at Rome.... And this smallness of
soul is wonderfully caught by Gay, and notwithstanding the
toga, and his height, and his majestic pose, Pilate appears so
petty before the wornout sufferer who has undergone during the
night arrest, judgment, and insults.... A wonderful picture!
That is the way to paint!’

“Gay, touched and deeply moved by Tolstoy’s delight, embraced
and kissed him, and said: ‘Do not praise it.... You will
praise me so that I shall become proud. I am afraid of
that.... I shan’t be able to paint!’”