Shame can be occasioned in startlingly different ways. Here are two classic depictions-one in words, one in paintthat stand in contrast with each other. They also correspond, in a helpful way, to twin strands of philosophical theorizing about shame: as recognition of wrong done, and as innocent social exposure. Consider, first, the case of Tolstoy's Rostov. Rostov, not a bad man, but naïve, foolish and vain, has lost a good deal of money gambling. He goes to his kindly father, who is suffering significant money troubles himself, and asks "in the most casual tone, which made him feel ashamed of himself … as if merely asking his father to let him have the carriage to drive to town" to ask his father to clear his debt for him. "Dear me!" said his father, who was in especially good humour. "I told you it would not be enough. How much?" "Very much," said Nicholas flushing, and with a stupid careless smile, for which he was long unable to forgive himself, "I have lost a little, I mean a good deal, a great dealforty three thousand." Rostov's father "reddens with an apoplectic flush" and falls on to the sofa. This, for a moment, occasions a desperate attempt at bravado from his son: "It can't be helped. It happens to everyone!" said the son, with a bold, free, and easy tone, while in his soul he regarded himself as a worthless scoundrel whose whole life could not atone for his crime. He longed to kiss his father's hands and kneel to beg his forgiveness, but said, in a careless and even rude voice, that it happens to everyone! 1 The old count immediately relents, and starts to leave the room to try his best to raise funds. The bold easy tone cracks, and Rostov grabs his father's hand, sobbing. Even if we do not think him a "worthless scoundrel", Rostov has This essay is dedicated to Benjamin Sacks, and to Maya Sacks, without whom their mother would not have had the gumption to even think about honouring their father in this way.