Memories is the tragi-comic account of Teffi's flight from the Bolsheviks in 1919. She would eventually end up in Paris, where she would spend the resMemories is the tragi-comic account of Teffi's flight from the Bolsheviks in 1919. She would eventually end up in Paris, where she would spend the rest of her life.
Recommended, along with her other writings.
People often complain that a writer has botched the last pages of a novel, that the ending is somehow crumpled, too abrupt.
I understand now that a writer involuntarily creates in the image and likeness of fate itself. All endings are hurried, compressed, broken off.
When a man has died, we all like to think that there was a great deal he could still have done.
When a chapter of life has died, we all think that it could have somehow developed and unfolded further, that its conclusion is unnaturally compressed and broken off. The events that conclude such chapters of life seem tangled and skewed, senseless and without definition.
In its own writings, life keeps to the formulae of old-fashioned novels....
All too quick and hurried, all somehow beside the point....
With my eyes now open so wide that the cold penetrates deep into them, I keep on looking. And I shall not move away. I've broken my vow. I've looked back. And, like Lot's wife, I am frozen. I have turned into a pillar of salt forever, and I shall forever go on looking, seeing my own land slip softly, slowly away from me. (pp. 229-30)
I picked up this version of The Duel on an impulse. I was shopping for a friend's Xmas gift and saw it on the shelf. I've wanted to read one of the PeI picked up this version of The Duel on an impulse. I was shopping for a friend's Xmas gift and saw it on the shelf. I've wanted to read one of the Pevear translations - either Fyodor Dostoyevsky or Anton Chekhov - and compare them with the Magarshack and Garnett translations.
Why The Duel?
I have to admit that it was the cover. I fear that I am quite smitten with the young woman depicted (presumably Nadezhda), and look forward to seeing the upcoming movie. (Yes - gasp - I can be that shallow.)
The story itself is set in an unnamed Caucasian seaport and revolves around Ivan Laevsky and Nadezhda Fyodorovna. The former is a dissolute nobleman full of Romantic rubbish that justifies his ennui and his plans to abandon his lover. Nadezhda is a beautiful young woman, well educated for her class, sex and time, who married a man she didn't love and has run away with Laevsky, overwhelmed by his charms, his promises and his unrealistic dreams. Two years later, Laevsky has grown out of love with Nadya and plans to leave her but retains enough of a moral sense to agonize over how to do it with the least pain. Nadya, too, feels frustrated and trapped but she still loves Laevsky, and blames herself for their difficulties. Her frustration, indeed, has led to a brief affair with the town's police chief, Kirilin, who refuses to accept that the affair is over and forces Nadya to sleep with him. (Reflecting, I think Kirilin is one of the most odious characters in Chekhov's oeuvre.)
Around these two is a cast of characters, including Samoilenko, a physician and Laevsky's friend. He's not so naive as to be ignorant of Laevsky's weaknesses but he chooses to ignore them. And there are Pobedev and von Koren. Pobedev is a deacon and a friend to both Samoilenko and von Koren. The last is a zoologist, social Darwinist and the second man in the duel of the story's title. He despises Laevsky for his laziness, faux intellectualism and weakness, as he does Nadya for her uselessness. On top of that, Laevsky and Nadya scandalize the community by living together openly as man and wife (unlike proper adulterers who try to remain discreet and show the proper guilt for their sin). The only family that receives them are the Bitiugovs, whose matriarch, Marya Konstantinovna, is a good-hearted woman who takes pity on Nadya.
Two of the several many reasons I read Chekhov are the realistic (if oft times depressing) depiction of human relationships - "the idea enters into no relationship with the ideas of others; each consciousness is isolated and impenetrable; there is a polyphony of voices, but no dialogue; there is compassion, but no communion" (p. xvi) - and Chekhov's "irrational intuition that there is meaning and beauty in the cosmos" (p. xiii).
The Duel is a perfect illustration of these two points. None of the characters ever speak to each other. They continually talk past each other, wrapped up in their own miseries and passions. Despite that, however, the lovers somehow find a measure of peace, happiness and meaning in their lives.
I quote two passages from the book that particularly struck me. The first occurs after Laevsky discovers Nadya and Kirilin together but before he goes off to the duel:
"She suddenly jumped and sat up in bed. Raising her pale face and looking with terror at Laevsky, she asked:
`Is that you? Is the thunderstorm over?'
`It's over.'
She remembered, put her hands to her head, and her whole body shuddered.
`It's so hard for me!' she said. `If you only knew how hard it is for me! I was expecting you to kill me,' she went on, narrowing her eyes, `or to drive me out of the house into the rain and the storm, but you put it off ... put it off...'
He embraced her impulsively and tightly, covered her knees and hands with kisses, then, as she murmured something to him and shuddered from her memories, he smoothed her hair and, peering into her face, understood that this unfortunate, depraved woman was the only person who was close, dear, and irreplaceable to him.
When he left the house and was getting into the carriage, he wanted to come back home alive." (pp. 103-104)
The second comes from the end of the story as Laevsky watches a boat taking von Koren away to his long anticipated expedition to Siberia:
"`The boat is thrown back,' he thought, `it makes two steps forward and one step back, but the oarsmen are stubborn, they work the oars tirelessly and do not fear the high waves. The boat goes on and on, now it can no longer be seen, and in half an hour the oarsmen will clearly see the seamer's lights, and in an hour they'll already be by the steamer's ladder. So it is in life ... In search of the truth, people make two steps forward and one step back. Sufferings, mistakes, and the tedium of life throw them back, but the thirst for truth and a stubborn will drive them on and on. And who knows? Maybe they'll row their way to the real truth...'" p. 123
Of the two translations, I prefer the Pevear by a hair's breadth. Overall, they're nearly identical but there are some important passages in the Pevear that read better to me than in the Garnett. The differences are minimal, however, and I'd recommend either....more
I’m going to have to review Oblomov on two levels. First on its merits as a novel; and then as a book that worked on me on an especially personal leveI’m going to have to review Oblomov on two levels. First on its merits as a novel; and then as a book that worked on me on an especially personal level.
In the first instance, as a novel, Oblomov is a success. Solely on its merits, I would give it three stars without compunction and recommend it to all my GoodReads friends. Ivan Goncharov divides his somnolent epic into four parts. Part I, in which our hero, Ilya Ilich, barely manages to get out of bed, is the most consciously humorous and satirical. Much of Oblomov’s day is taken up with thinking about what he should do (most critically, writing that letter to his bailiff about reorganizing his estates*) and greeting various acquaintances who drop by and try to convince him to come out to a social affair at Ekaterinburg. We also meet Zakhar, Oblomov’s devoted servant, who’s been with him since he was a child. Their relationship is reminiscent of that between Arthur and Hobson in the movie “Arthur” or between Bruce Wayne and Alfred of “Batman” fame. If that were the extent of Goncharov’s efforts, Oblomov would be remembered only in the dusty halls of Russian Lit departments as a pleasant amusement. But Goncharov goes beyond the social satire to explore what it means to live in the subsequent chapters through the life of the tragically flawed Oblomov.
Parts II and III recount Ilya Ilich and Olga Sergeyevna’s abortive love affair, and introduces us to Oblomov’s closest friend – Stolz, a man who embodies all the energy and interest in life that Ilya Ilich lacks. Compare:
“At the time he was still young, and if he could not have been called lively, then at the least he was livelier than he was now. He was still full of all kinds of aspirations, still hoped for things, still expected much of fate and of himself; he was still preparing for an arena, a role….
Days followed other days, however, years took other years’ place, his fluff became a stiff beard, lackluster points took the place of the light in his eyes, his waist rounded out, his hair began falling out mercilessly, he turned thirty, and he had not advanced a step in any arena and was still standing on the threshold of his own arena….
His role in society seemed to be working out better for him.
During the first years of his sojourn in Petersburg, in his early, youthful years, the calm features of his face livened up more often. His eyes radiated the fire of life for longer and poured out beams of light, hope, and strength. He worried like everyone else, hoped, rejoiced over trifles, and suffered over minor details.
But all that had been long ago, during that tender period when a man assumes in any other man a sincere friend and falls in love with and is prepared to offer his hand and heart to nearly any woman – something others did indeed accomplish, often to their great regret thereafter and for the rest of their life.
In these blissful days, Ilya Ilich also knew his share of soft, velvety, even passionate gazes from the crowd of beauties, masses of highly promising smiles, two or three undeserved kisses, and even friendlier handshakes that brought tears to his eyes.
Actually, he never did let the beauties capture him and was never their slave or even a very assiduous admirer, if only because intimacy with women entails a great deal of trouble. Oblomov tended to limit himself to a bow from afar, at a respectful distance.” (pp. 58 and 61)
And Stolz:
“Stolz was the same age as Oblomov; he too was over thirty. He had served, retired, taken up his own affairs, and had in fact earned himself a house and money. He owned part of a company that sent goods abroad.
He was constantly in motion. If the company needed to send an agent to Belgium or England, they sent him. If they needed someone to write a draft or put a new idea into practice, they chose him. Meanwhile he both went into society and read, but when he found the time for this, God only knew.
He was all bones, muscles, and nerves, like a purebred English horse. He was rather gaunt, and he had almost no cheeks at all. That is, he had the bone and muscle but no sign of soft roundness. The color of his face was even and rather swarthy, without any pink, and his eyes were expressive, though a little green.
He made no unnecessary movements. If he sat, he sat quietly; if he did in fact act, he used only as many gestures as necessary.
Just as his organism bore nothing extra, so in the moral aspects of his life he sought a balance between what was practical and the finer demands of the spirit. These two aspects proceeded in parallel, crossing and intertwining as they went, but never getting entangled in complicated, insoluble knots….
He took pleasure in delight as he would a flower plucked along the road, until it withered in his hands, never drinking to the last drop of bitterness that lies at the bottom of any pleasure.
A simple, or rather, direct and authentic perspective on life – this was his unfailing objective, and as he worked gradually toward attaining it, he understood just how difficult it was and was inwardly proud and happy whenever he happened to note a twist on this route and take a step straight ahead.” (pp. 174-175)
Olga is a young woman of Stolz’s stamp, and he encourages her to draw Ilya Ilich out of his shell while Stolz is abroad. Olga’s attentions work all too well. She and Oblomov fall in love, and even plan marriage. Problems arise, however, as Oblomov’s indolence and fears reassert themselves over his genuine feelings for Olga; and Olga begins to doubt the wisdom of their relationship (and her feelings are as genuine as Ilya’s). When the two return to St. Petersburg and Olga re-enters the social whirl of her friends, she and Oblomov draw apart, and in a wrenching scene they break up:
“‘Why did it all die?’ she asked suddenly, looking up. ‘Who cursed you, Ilya? What did you do? You’re so good, and smart, and kind, and noble…and…you’re dying! What destroyed you? There is no name for this evil.’
‘Yes, there is,’ he said, barely audibly.
She looked at him with eyes full of questions and tears.
‘Oblomovschina!’ he whispered, and then he took her hand and was about to kiss it but couldn’t so he pressed it firmly to his lips, and his hot tears fell on her fingers. Without looking up or showing her his face, he turned and left.” (p. 407)
Part IV introduces a certain amount of drama when Oblomov moves into a new apartment and is defrauded by another acquaintance, Tarantiev, and his landlady’s brother. His situation and fortune are redeemed only by the timely return of Stolz, who quickly puts Ilya Ilich’s affairs to right.
This uncharacteristic drama in Oblomov’s life is balanced by Agafia Matveyevna, the landlady. She’s a widow who quickly becomes the center of Oblomov’s life. She organizes his household, caters to him in a way Olga was incapable of and manages to fulfill (as much as could be) Ilya’s ideal of a life and a wife:
“‘Well, I’d get up in the morning,’ began Oblomov, folding his hands behind his head, and an expression of serenity washed over his face. In his mind, he was already in the country. ‘The weather is splendid, the sky is blue as blue can be, not a cloud in the sky,’ he said. ‘In my plan, one side of the house has a balcony facing east, toward the garden and the fields; the other faces the village. While I’m waiting for my wife to wake up, I put on my housecoat and take a walk around the garden to breathe the morning vapors. There I find the gardener and we water the flowers together and prune the bushes and trees. I make a bouquet for my wife. Then I go to the bath or the river to bathe, and as I’m returning, the balcony is open and my wife is there wearing a smock and a light cap that looks like it’s just barely holing on, as if it were about to fly off her head. She’s waiting for me. “Your tea is ready,” she says. What a kiss! What tea! What a comfortable chair! I sit down by the table, and on it are cookies, creams, and fresh butter.’
‘After that?’
‘After that, I put on a roomy coat or jacket, put my arm around my wife’s waist, and she and I take a stroll down the endless, dark allée, walking quietly, thoughtfully, silent or thinking out loud, daydreaming, counting my minutes of happiness like the beating of a pulse, listening to my heart beat and sink, seeking sympathy in nature, and before we know it we come out on a stream and field. The river is lapping a little, ears of grain are waving in the breeze, and it’s hot. We get into the boat and my wife steers us, barely lifting her oar.’…
His attitude toward her was much simpler. For him, Agafia Matveyevna, her elbows in constant motion, her eyes resting on everything with concern, her constant passage from cupboard to kitchen, from kitchen to storeroom, and from there to the cellar, her omniscience with regard to all things domestic and all household comforts, embodied the ideal of that inviolably tranquil life, as vast as the ocean, the picture of which had been indelibly etched on his soul in childhood, under his father’s roof.” (pp. 192-193 and 422)
What redeems Oblomov as a human being, what sets him apart from the usual parasites of the Russian elite, is the nobility and gentleness of his spirit. He’s spontaneously kind and selfless. The tragedy of Oblomov is Ilya’s fatal flaw – his Achilles’ heel – the profound ennui that obviates much of the good that he’s capable of and that his friends recognize in him.
I don’t know Russian but this is a lively and interesting translation which (from what I gather from the professional reviews) successfully translates Goncharov’s language and intent. I’d recommend this to anyone, especially those interested in forgotten classics of Russian literature.
The reason this book merits four stars in my virtual library is its personal significance. Rarely does a particular book move or resonate with me. More often it’s a slow accumulation of ideas and reading that upon reflection reveal a pattern of influence. Those authors who have “blown my mind” began with – fittingly – a Russian: Fyodor Dostoyevsky, who I began reading in 11th grade. Then I met W. Somerset Maugham, who was introduced to me by a friend who made the off hand remark that I reminded him of Larry from The Razor’s Edge. I devoured Of Human Bondage on a train ride to Seattle. Soon after, I made the acquaintance of Joseph Conrad and William Saroyan. In my post-GR life, there’s been Baudelaire, Ivy Compton Burnett, Sylvia Townsend and T.F. Powys, among others. The common denominator is that all of these authors wrote about people or viewpoints with which I identified powerfully.
Oblomov joins those ranks. While Ilya Ilich’s life, dreams and philosophy don’t map one-to-one with Terentii Efimovich’s, they bear an uncomfortably close resemblance. Parts II and III were particularly painful to read because they reflected my first marriage so closely.** I can’t claim to have now resolved the paradoxes in my life, and my “Olga” failed as spectacularly as Ilya’s. Like Oblomov, I can respect, admire and at times envy the lives of the Stolz’s in my life but (also like Oblomov) I can’t grasp the “why” of those lives. Oblomov compels me to re-examine my life.
* As an FYI, Oblomov was written pre-1861. Ilya Ilich is the owner of 300 serfs and a large estate somewhere to the east of St. Petersburg whose labor and income support his indolence.
** Anyone curious enough can read the enumerated portions of Oblomov themselves and draw their own conclusions about my sordid past :-)...more
I've never read Anton Chekhov. I can't read Russian, alas, so I only know him through the lenses of his translators. Unfortunately, the lens of Peter I've never read Anton Chekhov. I can't read Russian, alas, so I only know him through the lenses of his translators. Unfortunately, the lens of Peter Sekirin is not very good IMO. I get the impression that he's translating nearly word for word and literally, which means that something that's probably perfectly clear and appropriate in Russian is clumsy and nonsensical in English. Sekirin also doesn't have an ear for rendering the Russian into elegant English; it's serviceable but not great.
It doesn't help that the editing is distressingly amateurish. (As I believe I've mentioned in other postings, I'm an editor by trade. While allowances can be made for entries in private journals or on social media sites like GR, it galls me that a professionally published volume includes gaffs like writing "desk" when the author is clearly talking about a ship's "deck." Not once, but twice!)
The subtitle of this collection is And Other Stories of Crime & Suspense but anyone picking up this book expecting the mystery genre will be sorely disappointed. Yes, murder and thefts occur - quite often, in fact - but Chekhov couldn't care less about them except as they expose the motivations and lives of his characters. Only "Swedish Match" and the last three stories in the collection would I classify as being anywhere close to a traditional crime or suspense story.
In spite of all that, we're still talking Chekhov, and poorly translated Chekhov is still better than a lot of first-language authors out there. There are some gems in here, though only two that I recognized from previous collections - "Thieves," which I first read under the title "The Robbers," and "Evildoer," aka "The Malefactor."
Highlights: "A Thief" - A tale about an exile whose wife unexpectedly arrives at the Siberian village he's living in but with a twist. "Evildoer" - A story about the intersection of village life and needs with the modern world. "75 Grand" - Another ironic tale about a man, his wife, his mistress and a lottery ticket. "The Wallet" - Three actors find a wallet and enact the requisite tragedy to the edification of the reader. "Assignment" - An amusing tale about the fulfillment of any famous author's wish when he's trapped by the talentless but clueless writer into listening to that one's work. "Dreams" - Another look at the hopes (often futile) of the Russian peasant. "Thieves" - Not sure how to describe this one. When I first read it as "The Robbers," the final scene of the burning inn and the reaction of the protagonist stayed with me. It's one of Chekhov's bleakest visions IMO. "Murder" - This is another particularly bleak vision about a murderer finding his faith again but unable to act upon it. "The Drama at the Hunt" - I don't know whether it's the translator's fault or the Russian is equally obscure but this is an attempt to explore the possibilities of the "unreliable narrator." At the end, the translator loses control of the narrative and it gets hopelessly confusing....more
Finished at last! What can I say except to recommend Chekhov enthusiastically to everyone.
Volume 1: The Darling and Other Stories: "The Darling" - 3 stFinished at last! What can I say except to recommend Chekhov enthusiastically to everyone.
Volume 1: The Darling and Other Stories: "The Darling" - 3 stars: This story is about a woman whose entire life revolves around some man in her life. In the beginning it's her first husband, who dies; then she gravitates to her second husband, who also dies. She next fixates on a married officer. When he abandons her, she falls into a near catatonic state, returning to life only when the officer returns. But he returns with his wife and son, so Olenka focuses on the boy.
The interesting thing about this story is that "Tolstoy's Criticism on `The Darling'" is included at the end, and I think the great author entirely misses the point as he argues that Chekhov has unconsciously written an anti-feminist tract about the grace that redounds to a woman who offers herself wholly to another. He contends that Chekhov on the surface despises Olenka but winds up glorifying her. Chekhov doesn't despise nor laud Olenka, he simply writes about her, leaving it up to you to decide if she should be pitied or admired or (perhaps) both.
"Ariadne" - 3 stars: Here, as elsewhere, we see one facet of Chekhov's genius - He's left it again to us to decide whether or not we like his characters, he's just telling us their story. Ariadne is a gold-digger, looking for a "sugar daddy" to take care of her, and she abuses the love of a decent man in doing it. But Chekhov lays out the bare facts and lets you figure out who needs sympathy and who (if anyone, in the end) needs condemnation.
"Polinka" - 3 stars
"Anyuta" - 3.5 - 4 stars: For me, a really wrenching story about relationships and the appalling cruelty human beings are capable of.
"The Two Volodyas" - 3 stars "The Trosseau" - 3 stars "The Helpmate" - 3 stars "Talent" - 3 stars "An Artist's Story" - 3 stars
"Three Years" - 4 stars: Chekhov is a master at exploring relationships. Here we have the ill-starred marriage of two incompatible types that somehow succeeds, or at least reaches a point where husband and wife accept a measure of happiness/contentment if not love. The ending is not "happy" but it's not utterly "tragic." _______________________________________________ Volume 2: The Duel and Other Stories: "The Duel" - 3 stars "Excellent People" - 3 stars "Mire" - 3 stars "Neighbours" - 3.5 stars "At Home" - 4 stars "Expensive Lessons" - 3 stars "The Princess" - 3 stars "The Chemist's Wife" - 3 stars
The two stories that stood out in this volume for me were "Neighbours," which is about a brother's reaction to his sister taking up with a married man, and "At Home," which chronicles the slow erosion of Vera Kardin's spirit when she returns to her family's home. Chekhov continues to explore all the ways people live their lives - accepting, adapting, struggling, often surrendering - and sometimes the despair becomes too much. _______________________________________________ Volume 3: The Lady with the Dog and Other Stories: "The Lady with the Dog" - 3 stars: If an American literature major reads no other Chekhov story in their studies it will probably be this one, his most famous. It's the spare, economical story of a rake and a desperately unhappy woman who fall in love with each other after a chance encounter. That summation, of course, does not do justice to the power of the story. I've just reread the last few pages, and am reminded of the tragedy and poignancy and (perhaps) optimism of the final sentence:
"And it seemed as though in a little while the solution would be found, and than a new and splendid life would begin; and it was clear to both of them that they had still a long, long road before them, and that the most complicated and difficult part of it was only just beginning."
"A Doctor's Visit" - 3 stars
"An Upheaval" - 3 stars: I liked this story because it recounts the tale of a young servant, Mashenka, whose privacy is violated by her mistress because of a lost bauble. Rather than submit to the humiliation, Mashenka leaves.
"Ionitch" - 3 stars "The Head of the Family" - 3 stars
"The Black Monk" - 3.5 stars: This is the story of Andrey Vassilitch Kovrin, a brilliant student who encounters the "black monk," a hallucination that inspires and counsels him - "You will lead it some thousands of years earlier into the kingdom of eternal truth - and therein lies your supreme service. You are the incarnation of the blessing of God, which rests upon men." Unfortunately, Andrey's muse is lost when he surrenders to the pressures of "proper" society.
"Volodya" - 3 - 3.5 stars
"An Anonymous Story" - 3.5 stars: Another tragic love story. A political activist and terrorist gains the position of footman in the house of the son of a general he plans to assassinate but soon finds that all of his political passions have faded in the face of the human story of his master, Orlov; Orlov's married lover, Zinaida; and himself.
"The Husband" - 3 stars _______________________________________________ Volume 4: The Party and Other Stories: "The Party" - 3 stars "Terror" - 3 stars "A Woman's Kingdom" - 3 stars "A Problem" - 3 stars
"The Kiss" - 3.5 stars: Hitting close to home in this story about an artillery officer and a chance encounter: "There were times when he envied the boldness and swagger of his companions and was inwardly wretched; the consciousness that he was timid, that he was round-shouldered and uninteresting, that he had a long waist and lynx-like whiskers, had deeply mortified him, but with years he had grown used to this feeling, and now, looking at his comrades dancing or loudly talking, he no longer envied them, but only felt touched and mournful."
"`Anna on the Neck'" - 4 stars "The Teacher of Literature" - 3 stars "Not Wanted" - 3 stars "Typhus" - 3 stars
"A Misfortune" - 4 stars: "She was breathless, hot with shame, did not feel her legs under her, but what drove her on was stronger than shame, reason, or fear."
"A Trifle from Life" - 4 stars ______________________________________________ Volume 5: The Wife and Other Stories: "The Wife" - 3 stars: Devastating portrait of a sociopath (the husband, not the wife).
"Difficult People" - 3.5 stars "The Grasshopper" - 3 stars
"A Dreary Life" - 3.5 stars: This is a story about a doctor who realizes (or believes) he's wasted his entire life. It's sometimes hard to read Chekhov's stories all at once because of the fatalism of most of his characters. I get the temptation to slap them and say, "Wake up! Don't accept the way things are!"
"The Privy Counsellor" - 3 stars "The Man in a Case" - 3 stars "Gooseberries" - 3 stars "About Love" - 3 stars "The Lottery Ticket" - 3 stars ______________________________________________ Volume 6: The Witch and Other Stories: All the tales here get at least three stars. Especially disturbing is "In the Ravine" (3+ stars). The most interesting tale for me in this first reading is "Peasants." I was particularly struck by the contrast between the beauty of the countryside and the grinding poverty and fatalism of the peasantry, and the appalling indifference of the better off. ______________________________________________ Volume 7: The Bishop and Other Stories Volume 8: The Chorus Girl and Other Stories Volume 9: The Schoolmistress and Other Stories Volume 10: The Horse-Stealers and Other Stories
I see that I have been unforgivably remiss in keeping up with my periodic reviews of this wonderful author. It's been too long since I read volumes 7-9 to really say anything coherent or detailed about any particular story but simply looking at the titles, I'm remembering details from "The Bishop" and "The Chorus Girl," two of the better stories.
Volume 10 (and the later ones, as I understand from an afterword I happened to glance through in the final volume) contains a lot of Chekhov's lighter, more humorous stories but - like Shakespeare - even "bad" Chekhov is better than most authors' "good" stuff.
That said, Volume 10 begins with one of Chekhov's more disturbing and darkest stories (to me) - "The Horse-Stealers" - which takes place at an isolated inn on the Ukrainian steppes.
The second story in the collection - "Ward No. 6" - is mentioned by Janet Malcolm in Reading Chekhov: A Critical Journey. Her description was the catalyst that prompted me to purchase this collection in the first place (that and the fact that nearly every story she mentioned, I hadn't read - unforgivable in a Chekhov groupie). And she was right in every particular. "Ward No. 6" is a brilliant novella, and I'll quote here two passages that struck me in particular:
"And, indeed, is it not absurd even to think of justice when every kind of violence is accepted by society as a rational and consistent necessity, and every act of mercy - for instance, a verdict of acquittal - calls forth a perfect outburst of dissatisfied and revengeful feeling?" (p. 38)
and
"'Comprehension...' repeated Ivan Dmitritch frowning. 'External, internal.... Excuse me, but I don't understand it. I only know,' he said, getting up and looking angrily at the doctor - 'I only know that God has created me of warm blood and nerves, yes, indeed! If organic tissue is capable of life it must react to every stimulus. And I do! To pain I respond with tears and outcries, to baseness with indignation, to filth with loathing. To my mind, that is just what is called life. The lower the organism, the less sensitive it is, and the more feebly it reacts to stimulus; and the higher it is, the more responsively and vigorously it reacts to reality. How is it you don't know that? A doctor, and not know such trifles! To despise suffering, to be always contented, and to be surprised at nothing, one must reach this condition' - and Ivan Dmitritch pointed to the peasant who was a mass of fat - 'or to harden oneself by suffering to such a point that one loses all sensibility to it - that is, in other words, to cease to live. You must excuse me, I am not a sage or a philosopher,' Ivan Dmitritch continued with irritation, 'and I don't understand anything about it. I am not capable of reasoning." (p. 72)
None of the other stories in this volume quite reach "Ward No. 6"'s level but all are good in their own ways. ______________________________________________ Volume 11: The Schoolmaster and Other Stories:
Most of the stories in this volume are vignettes of Russian life, most written with a humorous slant.
On a negative note - The first page of "In the Graveyard" is from "The Swedish Match (A Story of a Crime)", the final story in vol. 12. ______________________________________________ Volume 12: The Cook's Wedding and Other Stories:
The stories in Volume 12 are concerned mostly with children or animals, including one of my favorites, "Home," where a father struggles to convince his young son that he shouldn't smoke and realizes that "nothing can be accomplished by logic and ethics."
"Home" is a comedic look at childhood. Many of the stories here take a more tragic point of view. In "Varka," the young girl of the title is driven to murderous extremes; and in "A Classical Student," there's pedophilia. The scene in the latter where Vanya is "punished" by the boarder Kuporossov is so subtle and underplayed the reader is left asking, "Did what I think happen just happen?" and it makes the horror all that more visceral.
This volume also contains "Kashtanka," which is about a dog and her loyalty to her master and his son. It's a disturbing story, especially for an animal lover, as Kashtanka's love for her abusive owner trumps the care and kindness of a man who finds her when she's lost. ______________________________________________ Volume 13: Love and Other Stories:
The final volume in Garnett's translations is a mixed bag of profoundly good stories and slighter pieces that Chekhov dashed off to make ends meet, though these latter stories are by no means not interesting.
The highlights: "Lights" - Told in flashback, it's about an older man recounting how he cruelly misled a young woman in his youth.
"A Living Chattel" - The longest story in the volume, it concerns the relationship of a husband, his wife and her lover.
"The Cossack" - This is one of several tales about husbands and wives. In this one, a recently married, initially happy couple fail to help a man in need and their lives fall apart as a consequence.
"Fat and Thin" and "The Death of a Government Clerk" are both tales of excessive and unhealthy subservience....more
To re-read actually -- I met Dostoevsky in my Junior year of high school with Crime and Punishment and found him a fascinating author. The relationshiTo re-read actually -- I met Dostoevsky in my Junior year of high school with Crime and Punishment and found him a fascinating author. The relationship continued in my Senior year with the Brothers but it's been almost 25 years since I've read the novel and its about time I did it again....more
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