Tereza has been described as a “child put in a … basket” and precious (through the way she grips Tomas in her sleep), which reminded me of Schiller’s explanation for why we revere nature, childhood, and simplicity in his essay On Simple and Sentimental Poetry (10, 14). Simple objects give us a sense of moral satisfaction through the contrast between our decadence and their perfection. A child’s “pure and free force, of the integrity, the infinity of its being” is sacred because it is simple. Thus, we are awed by “the contrast between their natural character and what is artificial in us.” This seems to be Tereza and Tomas’s dynamic in the first two parts, where he seems to admire her “simplicity”.
But, over time, as Tereza is torn down by Tomas’ infidelity and lack of interest, she loses her childlike charm in her depression. As such, Tomas sends her to die — she is no longer an ideal image that he is fascinated with (for it is not clear to me if he actually ever loved her). The only one in the household that maintains this simplicity is Karenin, who wakes up with “a naive and simple amazement” at existence (132). He becomes Tereza’s anchor to replace her lost simplicity and wonder.