When one of the Oblonsky servants Matvei helps Stiva dress himself, the story uses an ironic simile to comment on the behavior of privileged Russian society:
‘Well, all right, go now,’ said Stepan Arkadyich, suddenly blushing. ‘Let’s get me dressed.’ He turned to Matvei and resolutely threw off his dressing gown. Matvei was already holding the shirt like a horse collar, blowing away something invisible, and with obvious pleasure he clothed the pampered body of his master in it.
The servant Matvei compares the shirt he clothes his master in to a horse collar, which is situationally ironic. Usually, it is the master holding out the collar, but when it is a servant who dresses Stiva, the roles appear reversed. This role reversal introduces the topic of Russian feudalism and reminds the reader that these characters, integral members of Russian society, are rich and powerful beyond belief. Yet somehow, their riches make them vulnerable—in this instance, Matvei implies that Stiva would not be able to dress himself without Matvei. Through his wealthy helplessness, Stiva becomes the horse who needs to be collared.
This representation of a collared horse also relates to Stiva's proclivity for adultery and his inability to stay faithful to Dolly. As someone who cannot stay loyal to his wife, Stiva needs to be collared and held on a tight leash. Matvei feels sympathy for Dolly and understands how much she is suffering. He even suggests that his master Stiva apologize again to his wife. Despite being only a servant, Matvei seems to hold influence over Stiva's behavior and appearance. There is a mutual respect between the two, despite their different social classes. This alone proves the story's point that Stiva, apart from his unfaithfulness, is not an evil man, just as the adulterous Anna is not an evil woman.
Before the ball, Kitty admires herself in a mirror, using haunting similes and personification to describe her overall appearance:
The black velvet ribbon of her locket encircled her neck with particular tenderness. This velvet ribbon was enchanting, and at home, as she looked at her neck in the mirror, she felt it could almost speak. All the rest might be doubted, but the ribbon was enchanting. Kitty also smiled here at the ball as she glanced at it in the mirror. In her bare shoulders and arms she felt a cold, marble-like quality that she especially liked. Her eyes shone, and her red lips could not help smiling from the sense of her own attractiveness.
In a passage so full of similes and personification, Kitty is very aware of her own attractiveness. Kitty knows exactly what parts of her men will find attractive, so she therefore also likes these parts of herself. Instead of feeling beautiful, Kitty has the knowledge that she will appear beautiful to others. This description of her is rather contradictory, though, as her neck wants to speak and her lips long to smile even as she herself feels cold like a marble statue.
This personification of her individual body parts juxtaposed against the marble statue further illustrates the societal struggles for women at the time. At the beginning of the novel, Kitty seems obsessed with beauty, both of herself and of others. Tolstoy's society values women for their appearances, and anything less than perfection is no longer considered attractive. This principle can be seen when Anna worries that Vronsky will no longer find her attractive during her pregnancy. Society dictates that women are worthy when they are marble statues of permanent beauty, something that Kitty longs to be in the beginning.
After rejecting several men at the ball, Kitty realizes that she has no partner for the final mazurka. When she sits down dejectedly, the narrative uses a simile and a metaphor to illustrate her predicament:
She went to the far corner of a small drawing room and sank into an armchair. Her airy skirt rose like a cloud around her slender body; one bared, thin, delicate girlish hand sank strengthlessly into the folds of her pink tunic; in the other she held her fan and waved it before her flushed face with quick, short movements. But though she had the look of a butterfly that clings momentarily to a blade of grass and is about to flutter up, unfolding its iridescent wings, a terrible despair pained her heart.
The narrative compares Kitty to a butterfly using metaphors and airy similes. She is a butterfly about to flutter away, with "iridescent wings" and a skirt "like a cloud around her slender body." Kitty is much more delicate and innocent than Anna, who is not only married but also engages in a dramatic love affair with Vronsky. Kitty is just beginning her life, trying to decide who she wants to take as her husband. Anna is the exact opposite of Kitty's new unfolding and iridescence—she is seasoned and moving towards her demise. This butterfly metaphor sets up the idea that as Anna moves towards despair, Kitty moves closer to happiness. The two protagonists must remain in balance, as both cannot live and thrive.
When Princess Betsy holds a social salon after the opera, the group of aristocrats gossips with fervor and malice. The story uses a simile to express the liveliness of the derisive, rather mean-spirited conversation:
Each had something demeaning and derisive to say about the unfortunate Mme Maltishchev, and the conversation began to crackle merrily, like a blazing bonfire.
In this passage, the narrative compares the conversation to a "blazing bonfire," describing it as "crackl[ing]" with with a gleeful sort of contentment, illustrating the extent to which the aristocrats partaking in petty gossip are enjoying themselves. The conversation ebbs and flows like the flames of a fire. This simile brings the art of conversation to life and proves how integral gossip in the drawing room is to this particular culture and society. The device also calls attention to the weaponization of gossip in this time period, highlighting how it can burn people and tarnish reputations.
The word "merrily" also adds a layer of personification to the simile, illustrating how much the nobility loves to demean people as a form of entertainment. It is a society rooted in judgement, which is one of the reasons that Anna becomes so isolated throughout the novel.
When Karenin attempts to confront Anna about her intimate interactions with Vronsky, Anna lies with ease. The narrative uses a simile to compare Anna to a fire in the night:
Anna was walking with her head bowed, playing with the tassels of her hood. Her face glowed with a bright glow; but this glow was not happy—it was like the terrible glow of a fire on a dark night. Seeing her husband, Anna raised her head and, as if waking up, smiled. […] Anna said whatever came to her tongue, and was surprised, listening to herself, at her ability to lie. How simple, how natural her words were, and how it looked as if she simply wanted to sleep! She felt herself clothed in an impenetrable armour of lies. She felt that some invisible force was helping her and supporting her.
Comparing Anna to a "terrible glow" on a "dark night," the simile depicts Anna as a sort of villain. Anna is not veiled in the glow of happiness, but instead the glow of something evil thriving in darkness. Now that Anna has developed feelings for Vronsky, the lies are flowing out of her with ease, so much that she feels encased by them. Anna is almost excited by this furtive chapter in her life and her ability to manipulate Karenin with such ease.
This simile also establishes Anna's role within the motif of Christian forgiveness. Despite her transgressions, does Anna deserve to be forgiven? In solely an attempt to find happiness, does Anna deserve to be labeled as a sinner, as someone deserving of punishment?
After a massive argument between Karenin and Anna, Karenin feels powerless and compares himself to an obsequious bull with a simile:
Outwardly things were the same, but inwardly their relations had changed completely. Alexei Alexandrovich, such a strong man in affairs of state, here felt himself powerless. Like a bull, head lowered obediently, he waited for the axe that he felt was raised over him.
When Anna refuses to admit to Karenin that she has feelings for Vronsky, their entire marriage changes for the worse. Anna, now clearly keeping secrets from her husband, is always around Vronsky and hardly even sees her husband anymore. Karenin tells Anna that he loves her, but he cannot seem to express his true feelings of exasperation. And so, Anna continues to see Vronsky, and Karenin feels powerless to stop her.
Anna is a very powerful and influential character, having captured the hearts of two different men in the novel. Therefore, it is unsurprising that Karenin lowers himself to her like a bull and that life without her feels like his death sentence. Karenin is so enraptured by Anna that not even a love affair can make him despise her or cause him to erupt in anger. To the woman he loves, no matter her transgressions, he will accept the pain and let her walk all over him.
When Vronsky makes a wrong move during his horse race, Frou-Frou breaks her back during a bad fall. The story uses an extended metaphor and simile to illustrate the event:
She flew over the ditch as if without noticing it; she flew over it like a bird; but just then Vronsky felt to his horror that, having failed to keep up with the horse’s movement, he, not knowing how himself, had made a wrong, an unforgivable movement as he lowered himself into the saddle. […] He barely managed to free the foot before she fell on her side, breathing heavily and making vain attempts to rise with her slender, sweaty neck, fluttering on the ground at his feet like a wounded bird.
With an extended metaphor and simile, the story compares Frou-Frou to a bird as she flies over a ditch and flutters on the ground. Comparing Frou-Frou—who is obviously large—to a small, fluttering bird emphasizes just how injured and broken she now is—so injured that the men are forced to shoot and kill her. In this moment, it seems like Vronsky perceives an injured beauty as a diminished beauty. Similarly, in Vronsky's eyes, Anna begins as a seductress but later loses her beauty when she becomes pregnant and depressed.
The fall and death of Frou-Frou illustrates Vronsky's tendency to perceive the important and irreplaceable figures in his life as disposable. Vronsky does not realize at this moment or later that his actions have direct repercussions on others' lives. It is his reckless behavior that destroys Frou-Frou and Anna in the end, both of whom are simply victims of his actions.
When Anna admits to Karenin that she is Vronsky's mistress and that she loves him, Karenin is both anguished and somewhat relieved. He describes the pain of betrayal in his heart with a simile:
His wife’s words, confirming his worst doubts, produced a cruel pain in Alexei Alexandrovich’s heart. […] But, left alone in the carriage, Alexei Alexandrovich, to his own surprise and joy, felt complete deliverance both from this pity and from the doubt and suffering of jealousy that had lately tormented him. He felt like a man who has had a long-aching tooth pulled out. After the terrible pain and the sensation of something huge, bigger than his head, being drawn from his jaw, the patient, still not believing his good fortune, suddenly feels that what had poisoned his life and absorbed all his attention for so long exists no more, and that he can again live, think and be interested in something other than his tooth. This was the feeling Alexei Alexandrovich experienced. The pain had been strange and terrible, but now it was gone; he felt that he could again live and think about something other than his wife.
Karenin compares his jealous and piteous pain with having a “long-aching tooth pulled out.” The pain of suspicion was enormous and all-consuming, so being able to know the truth—no matter how devastating—offers him a soothing moment of relief. Karenin is no longer curious or worried about his wife's improper behavior. He knows of his wife’s transgressions, and now that his worst fears have been confirmed, they cannot cause him even more pain. Just like a toothache, Karenin will feel residual pain in the aftermath, but he feels comforted by the fact that the pain now has a truthful source and an end.
In Italy, Anna and Vronsky live together in bliss and do not concern themselves with society for the moment. Without a social life, Vronsky eagerly occupies himself with new hobbies and topics, illustrated with a simile comparing him to a "hungry animal":
Sixteen hours of the day had to be occupied by something, since they lived abroad in complete freedom, outside the sphere of conventional social life that had occupied their time in Petersburg. […] Contacts with local or Russian society, given the uncertainty of their position, were also impossible. […] And as a hungry animal seizes upon every object it comes across, hoping to find food in it, so Vronsky quite unconsciously seized now upon politics, now upon new books, now upon painting.
Vronsky feels idle with all of his free time outside of Russian society, so much that he's hungry for something to do. Anna and Vronsky’s situation also demonstrates their lack of forethought with this affair, for they did not anticipate needing to travel abroad to escape the judgmental eye of society.
Moreover, this scene depicts the aristocratic need for something to do to pass the time. The train never stops moving, so without society to keep him occupied, what can Vronsky do but paint, read, and debate? There is a noticeable contrast between Vronsky's idleness in Italy and Levin's hardworking mentality as a farmer.
Stiva travels to Petersburg to escape the uptight and stagnant lifestyle of Moscow. With an allusion and simile, the narrative demonstrates how Stiva better fits into a more relaxed, unconcerned society:
Moscow, in spite of its cafés chantants and omnibuses, was, after all, a stagnant swamp. That Stepan Arkadyich had always felt. Living in Moscow, especially around his family, he felt he was losing his spirits. When he lived in Moscow for a long time without leaving, he reached the point of worrying about his wife’s bad moods and reproaches, his children’s health and education, the petty concerns of his service; he even worried about having debts. But he needed only to go and stay for a while in Petersburg, in the circle to which he belonged, where people lived - precisely lived, and did not vegetate as in Moscow - and immediately all these thoughts vanished and melted away like wax before the face of fire.
The simile comparing Stiva's thoughts to wax melting "before the face of fire" alludes to Psalm 68:2: “As wax melteth before the fire, so let the wicked perish at the presence of God.” This simile introduces the idea of good Christian values, which ironically, Stiva is well-known to ignore by way of his many affairs. Based on his behavior and attitude, it is uncertain whether or not Stiva deserves to be forgiven by his family and God.
In this passage, it is difficult to tell whether Stiva considers himself a sinner. He complains about having to constantly worry about Dolly's bad moods, the health of his children, and his family's debt. Are these thoughts sinful enough to deserve God's punishment? Stiva is not necessarily a bad person, as he does worry about his family, but his tendency to run away from his problems makes him untrustworthy.