A fairly strange novella, displaying Tolstoy's great writing, but also his not so great moralizing.
The society of the day takes a hit, particularly in how it treats women (some of this with justification) though women themselves take a lot of the blows, so to speak.
It's the story of a murder committed by a jealous husband (sidenote - he walks free) and who's fault that is.
The very end shows his contrition, but he just wishes he never married, not that he never became a killer.
Sex, prostitutes, and even bonbons (!) all recieve tirades so avoid if you like them! I would pay good money to see this version of Count Leo in Haight-Ashbury 70 years after he wrote this :)