1B: Anton Chekhov (1860-1904)

If I have to choose between Chekhov and most

 hip-hop, I'll go with Chekhov.

 - Cornel West

Russian writers and homies
 Anton "Tall Boy" Chekhov (1860-1904), at left,

and Leo "The Bear" Tolstoy (1828-1920) kicking it.

Tolstoy is best known for his novels

War and Peace (1869) and Anna Karenina (1877).
 Chekhov's plays are produced world-wide. Among classical playwrights he is thought to have the most productions of his work staged each year next to Shakespeare.
 His short stories continue to be the primary influence
 on many writers of fiction.

CHEKHOV and TOLSTOY

Tolstoy and Chekhov homies?  To an extent. Here's a remembrance of the two by Peter Gnedich, “Memories,” from The Book of Life (1922):

"Lev Tolstoy sincerely loved Chekhov, but did not like his plays. He told Chekhov once, 'A playwright should take the theater-goer by the hand, and lead him in the direction he wants him to go. And where can I follow your character? To the couch in the living-room and back—because your character has no other place to go.' They both—Tolstoy and Chekhov—laughed at these words.

"Chekhov told me later, 'When I am writing a new play, and I want my character to exit the stage, I remember those words of Lev Nikolaevich, and I think "Where will my character go?" I feel both funny and angry.' Chekhov’s only consolation was that Tolstoy also did not like the plays of Shakespeare.

"Chekhov told me once, 'You know, I recently visited Tolstoy in Gaspra. He was bedridden due to illness. Among other things, he spoke about me and my works. Finally, when I was about to say goodbye he took my hand and said, "Kiss me goodbye." While I bent over him and he was kissing me, he whispered in my ear in a still energetic, old man’s voice, "You know, I hate your plays. Shakespeare was a bad writer, and I consider your plays even worse than his.”'

This was not my idea. It is some entrepreneur unknown to me.
For more information about other "Chekhov is my Homeboy" merchandise click on this.
You can also find "Tolstoy is my Homeboy" at the same site.

CHEKHOV BIOGRAPHY

Looking for a concise biography of Anton Chekhov that goes beyond the above memories of Tolstoy and Chekhov?  Here's a good place to start.  You'll get the highlights: where he went to school and what he wrote. He studied medicine and became a doctor. He wrote over 200 short stories and 14 plays. For more comprehensive biographies try the Encyclopedia Britannica or this page from Andres Teuber of Brandeis University. There is also a good reflective essay  on Chekhov in The Guardian 150 years after his birth.

CHEKHOV'S SHORT STORIES

Who says that Chekhov is one of the greatest short story writers? Writers often do. The Wall Street Journal declared: "Many modern writers consider Chekhov to be not only the father of the short story but the first modern fiction writer. In 1987, Daniel Halpern, a poet and publisher, asked 25 noted authors to name the most crucial influences on their own work. Chekhov was cited by 10 of them, including Eudora Welty, Nadine Gordimer and Raymond Carver; he received double the nominations of any other writer. In a Paris Review interview in 1981, Tennessee Williams said, "What writers influenced me as a young man? Chekhov. As a dramatist? Chekhov. As a story writer? Chekhov.'" Richard Ford's introductory essay, "Why We Love Chekhov," to Tales of Chekhov, 2007, further explains the admiration writers have for Chekhov. Ford's complete essay has also been published as "Chekhov: A Writer for Grown Ups."

Where can you find more of Chekhov's stories? You can read some of the 200 plus short stories by Chekhov at this site.

Chekhov said the following about his stories: "my openings always promise a great deal, as if I had started a novel; the middle is crumbled up and timid; and the ending is like fireworks, as though in a short story."

Some American readers find character names in Russian fiction complicated to follow. Yet, they are not as difficult as it seems, Masha Holl explains at her site.  I find her description easy and straightforward.  Let me quote her: "To see just how crazy and wild these nicknames can become in Russian, click on the names in the table. The cascading folders will reveal the common diminutives (hypociristic forms, as linguists like to say) in progressive order: from the more ordinary to the more intimate. This is where readers are often lost in Russian novels: characters may have several different nicknames and still be the same person."  Go see her.  She knows what she's talking about.

If you want more information, there are an endless number of sites to turn to.  One such place is Russland Journal, which you might find easy to navigate. Another source, surprise, surprise, is Wikipedia.

Chekhov on the 8 qualities of cultured people.

Cultured people must, in my opinion, satisfy the following conditions:

1. They respect human personality, and therefore they are always kind, gentle, polite, and ready to give in to others. They do not make a row because of a hammer or a lost piece of india-rubber; if they live with anyone they do not regard it as a favour and, going away, they do not say “nobody can live with you.” They forgive noise and cold and dried-up meat and witticisms and the presence of strangers in their homes.
2. They have sympathy not for beggars and cats alone. Their heart aches for what the eye does not see…. They sit up at night in order to help P…., to pay for brothers at the University, and to buy clothes for their mother.
3. They respect the property of others, and therefor pay their debts.
4. They are sincere, and dread lying like fire. They don’t lie even in small things. A lie is insulting to the listener and puts him in a lower position in the eyes of the speaker. They do not pose, they behave in the street as they do at home, they do not show off before their humbler comrades. They are not given to babbling and forcing their uninvited confidences on others. Out of respect for other people’s ears they more often keep silent than talk.
5. They do not disparage themselves to rouse compassion. They do not play on the strings of other people’s hearts so that they may sigh and make much of them. They do not say “I am misunderstood,” or “I have become second-rate,” because all this is striving after cheap effect, is vulgar, stale, false….
6. They have no shallow vanity. They do not care for such false diamonds as knowing celebrities, shaking hands with the drunken P., [Translator's Note: Probably Palmin, a minor poet.] listening to the raptures of a stray spectator in a picture show, being renowned in the taverns…. If they do a pennyworth they do not strut about as though they had done a hundred roubles’ worth, and do not brag of having the entry where others are not admitted…. The truly talented always keep in obscurity among the crowd, as far as possible from advertisement…. Even Krylov has said that an empty barrel echoes more loudly than a full one.
7. If they have a talent they respect it. They sacrifice to it rest, women, wine, vanity…. They are proud of their talent…. Besides, they are fastidious.
8. They develop the aesthetic feeling in themselves. They cannot go to sleep in their clothes, see cracks full of bugs on the walls, breathe bad air, walk on a floor that has been spat upon, cook their meals over an oil stove. They seek as far as possible to restrain and ennoble the sexual instinct…. What they want in a woman is not a bed-fellow … They do not ask for the cleverness which shows itself in continual lying. They want especially, if they are artists, freshness, elegance, humanity, the capacity for motherhood…. They do not swill vodka at all hours of the day and night, do not sniff at cupboards, for they are not pigs and know they are not. They drink only when they are free, on occasion…. For they wantmens sana in corpore sano [a healthy mind in a healthy body].

CHEKHOV and the THEATRE

OSF production of Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard, 2007

This documentary, Meeting Chekhov, might be of interest to those of you who are reading Chekhov right now (in 1B), have read him previously, or are considering attending the Oregon Shakespeare Festival.  Libby Appel, the former artistic director of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, talks about her lifetime love of Chekhov's plays and the man, from the day she was introduced to him as a 16 year-old girl. OSF actors also talk about their admiration of Chekhov, and we get to see some scenes of Ashland and the OSF campus.

You may find it easier to watch the above if you go directly to YouTube.

Meeting with Chekhov Part I

Meeting with Chekhov Part II

Meeting with Chekhov III

Judith Marie Bergan and Gregory Linington in The Cherry Orchard, OSF, 2007

Chekhov reads The Seagull to actors. 1899.

You can learn more about the Oregon Shakespeare Festival's 2012 production of The Seagull here.

The cast of Vanya on 42nd Street. From left to right:
 Brooke Smith (Sonya), Wallace Shawn (Vanya), Julianne Moore (Yelena),  and George Gaynes (Serybryakov)

Chekhov's Uncle Vanya & Vanya on 42nd Street 

1B Students: If you have the inclination, read Roger Ebert's review of Vanya on 42nd Street. Go to the Criterion film page for Vanya on 42nd Street; read the film essays and view the trailers at the page.  Here's an article from The New York Times, "'Vanya,' Theatre and Art of Being". It provides additional information about Vanya on 42nd Street, which you may know is an adaptation of Chekhov's Uncle Vanya by David Mamet.

Chekhov has had a great influence on other artists, besides writers. The great ballet artist Mikhail Baryshnikov, shown above, talks about doing a play inspired by Chekhov's short stories, "Man in a Case" and "About Love."  Following the Baryshnikov interview members of the producing theatre company, the avant garde Big Dance Theater,  talk about the Chekhov stories, Baryshnikov, and their goal in bringing Chekhov's short stories to the stage.

TRANSLATING CHEKHOV

Translation is a tricky business and contentious.  The argument raised: is the translation representative of the author's language, ideas, and tone, or has the translator twisted the original into their own literary bias and limited imagination?  An article in The New Yorker addresses this issue in their profile of two contemporary translators know for their Russian translations, husband and wife Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. 

We should keep in mind that no matter how good translators may be, they come between the writer and the reader--if only slightly. Yet it is not uncommon for readers, and especially those skilled in the author's native language, to have a preference. Please note, below, the two different translations for the same Chekhov story.  

A Doctor’s Visit

(tr. Constance Garnett, 1917)

The professor received a telegram from the Lyalikovs’ factory; he was asked to come as quickly as possible.  The daughter of a certain Madame Lyalikov, apparently the owner of the factory, was ill, and that was all that one could make out of the long, incoherent telegram.  And the professor did not go himself, but sent instead his assistant, Korolyov.

It was two stations from Moscow, and there was a drive of three miles from the station.  A carriage with three horses had been sent to the station to meet Korolyov; the coachman wore a hat with a peacock feather on it, and answered every question in a loud voice like a soldier: “No, sir!” “Certainly, sir!”

It was Saturday evening; the sun was setting, the workers were coming in crowds from the factory to the station, and they bowed to the carriage in which Korolyov was driving. And he was charmed with the evening, the farmhouses and villas on the road, and the birch-trees, and the quiet atmosphere all around, when the fields and woods

A Medical Case

(tr. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, 2000)

A professor received a telegram from the Lialikovs’ factory asking him to come quickly.  The daughter of a certain Mr. Lialikov, apparently the owner of the factory, was sick--nothing more could be understood from the long, witlessly composed telegram. The professor did not go himself, but sent his intern Korolev in his place.

He had to go two stations away from Moscow and then some three miles by carriage.  A troika was sent to the station to pick Korolev up; the driver wore a hat with a peacock feather, and to all questions responded with a loud military “No, sir!” or “Yes, sir!” It was Saturday evening, the sun was setting.  Crowds of workers came walking from the factory to the station and bowed to the horses that were bringing Korolev.  And he was enchanted by the evening, and the country houses and dachas along the way, and the birches, and that quiet mood all around, when it seemed that, together with the workers, the fields, the woods, and the sun were preparing to rest on the eve of the holy day--to rest and perhaps to pray . . . 

and the sun seemed preparing, like the workers now on the eve of the holiday to rest, and perhaps to pray. . . . 

He had been born and grown up in Moscow; he did not know the country, and he had never taken any interest in factories or been inside one, but he had happened to read about factories, and had been in the houses of manufacturers and had talked to them; and whenever he saw a factory far or near, he always thought how quiet and peaceable it was outside, but within there was always sure to be impenetrable ignorance and dull egoism on the side of the owners, wearisome, unhealthy toil on the side of the workpeople, squabbling, vermin, vodka.  And now when the workers timidly and respectfully made way for the carriage, in their faces, their caps, their walk, he read physical impurity, drunkenness nervous exhaustion, bewilderment.

They drove in at the factory gates. On each side he caught glimpses of the little houses of workpeople, of the faces of women, of quilts and linen on the railings. “Look out!” shouted the coachman, not pulling up the horses. It was a wide courtyard without grass, with five immense blocks of buildings with 

He was born and grew up in Moscow, did not know the countryside and had never been interested in factories or visited them.  But he had chanced to read about factories and to visit factory owners and talk with them; and when he saw some factory in the distance or up close, he thought each time of how quiet and peaceful everything was outside, and how inside there must be the impenetrable ignorance and obtuse egoism of the owners, the tedious unhealthy labor of the workers, squabbles, vodka, vermin. And now, as the workers deferentially and timorously stepped aside before the carriage, in their faces, caps, and gait he could discern physical uncleanness, drunkenness, nervousness, perplexity.

They drove through the factory gates.  On both sides flashed workers’ cottages, women’s faces, linen and blankets on the porches. “Watch out!” cried the driver, not reining in the horses. Then came a wide yard with no grass, and in it five huge buildings with smokestacks, standing separate from each other, warehouses, barracks, and over everything lay some sort of gray coating, as of dust. Tall chimneys a little distance one from another, warehouses and barracks, and over everything a sort of gray powder as though from dust. 

Anton Chekhov

Chekhov's Pets

Chekhov and his pet mongoose that he acquired upon his return from Sakhalin Island. The Atlantic reports, "Chekhov called his [mongoose] Svoloch and described it in a letter as 'a mixture of rat and crocodile, tiger and monkey.' He kept it for about a year and a half, but, citing a need to travel, he then donated it to the Moscow zoo, which he had fiercely criticized as an "animals' graveyard.' The mongoose lived in captivity for two more years. The average lifespan of a captive mongoose today is about 20 years." More about Chekhov and his mongoose can be found here and here.

A PET QUESTION & ANSWER
What was Anton Chekhov's favorite breed of dog? There is one person out there who believes it was a dachshund. Get the story at "The Long and Short of It All: Dachshunds in Pop Culture."  Here's what we learn from site administrators Rowdy and Bette:

In 1892, Chekhov bought the small country estate of Melikhovo [that you will find pictured below], about forty miles south of Moscow, where he lived until 1899 with his family.  In April of 1893, his sister brought home two Dachshunds; the "blackish dog" was named 'Bromine,' and the "tan bitch" was named 'Quinine.' Quinine is a drug used in his day to treat advanced cases of tuberculosis, the disease that had killed his brother Nikolai in 1889 and would take his life in 1904.  Bromide was a sedative, as well as a cliché. Chekhov is pictured above with Quinine at his side.

It is good to know that someone is working on this canine's behalf. More proof that we live in fascinating times, that are exceeded by the animation,  below.

This beautiful work of Russian animation, above, from 1952

 retells the story of Chekhov's "Kashtanka". 
You can watch an English translation of it
 by clicking here.

THEY HAD ME AT THE TITLE

"I Know How You're Feeling, I Read Chekhov"
from The New York Times, October 3, 2013
by Pam Belluck
Researchers have found that readers of literary fiction are more empathetic than those who read popular fiction. Belluck reported that "literary fiction often leaves more to the imagination, encouraging readers to make inferences about characters and be sensitive to emotional nuance and complexity. They theorize that reading literary fiction helps improve real-life skills like empathy and understanding the beliefs and intentions of others."

Read Chekhov for a Better 2014
from The Millions, posted at 6:00 am on January 15, 2014
By Brendan Matthews 
New Year’s resolutions tend toward self-improvement. This is the year you will start going to the gym, or finally kick caffeine, or nip in the bud your nascent addiction to cronuts. Maybe you have promised to watch less television, or you have fiendishly reasoned that self-improvement relies on watching more television: you still don’t know what happened at the Red Wedding or who Walter White is, and this is making it hard for you to connect with your fellow human beings.

But what if you’re interested in connecting with your fellow human beings in a way that doesn’t require access to premium cable? According to a study published in October in the journal Science, reading literary fiction — including the works of Anton Chekhov — increases scores on tests of empathy and emotional intelligence. Who wouldn’t want to be more empathetic in 2014?

But before embarking on a self-help tour of late-Czarist Russia, be advised that Chekhov doesn’t provide easy answers to becoming a kinder, more caring person. There’s no five-step solution, no short prayer that will increase your fortunes and lay waste to the fields of your enemies.

To read all of this essay click here.

Sergey Ponomarev for the International Herald Tribune

Chekhov’s country estate, which he bought at age 32, is where he wrote

 “The Seagull” and many other works. (The New York Times, Aug. 10, 2013)

AT CHEKHOV'S ESTATE

At Chekhov’s Estate, a Pastoral Literary Shrine Belies a Turbulent Century

The New York Times, August 10, 2013

By Alison Smale

MELIKHOVO, Russia — In a country as big and brash as modern Russia, it is always something of a surprise to discover a modest jewel of the culture that many Russians value so highly.

The museum here at the former country estate of Anton Chekhov is just such a place. It is not very well marked from the nearby town of Chekhov — a typically ramshackle mix of Soviet apartments and post-Soviet garishness, founded only in 1954.

Yet once the visitor has crossed the railway tracks that once brought the Chekhovs here from Moscow, about 50 miles to the north, and onto the country road to Melikhovo, a pastoral scene unfolds.

To read the rest of the article click here.

Melikhovo, south of Moscow, retains the rural serenity that delighted
 the writer and his family in the late 19th century. (The New York Times, Aug. 11, 2013)

Sergey Ponomarev for the International Herald Tribune

Many artifacts came from the later Chekhov home in Yalta, enabling visitors today to get a full glimpse of a cramped family home in the late 19th century.caption.
 (The New York Times, Aug. 11, 2013)

Other Articles and Websites about Chekhov

"Anton Chekhov: A Man for Our Times," in History Newa Network. "Chekhov homepage," "Chekhov's Legacy," and "Anton Chekhov on Writing"  from Creighton University page on Chekhov.  Encylopedia Britanica entry on Chekhov. 8 Things Civilized People Do by Anton Chekhov, from Forbes. The Stature of Anton Chekhov by Thomas Mann, from The New Republic.

By most accounts, Chekhov was known for his empathy.  Here's an abstract of an article, "Chekhov as a Doctor" by Ned Tijdschr Geneeskd. 2003 Mar 1;147(9):406-11. [Article in Dutch]

Rooijmans HG. See this link for source of this abstract.

Abstract: "Anton Chekhov (1860-1904) was not only a writer, but also a doctor. One might think that he was primarily concerned with writing, but he also dedicated himself fully to being a doctor. When he had to give up his practice in 1897 upon urgent medical advice, he experienced it as a great loss. As a medic he often felt unsure and believed that he failed in his duties. This did not change the fact that many patients called upon him for assistance. They were probably also fond of him because of his genuine interest in their living conditions and because of his compassion. In terms of his scientific activities, his attempt to have his visit in 1890 to the Russian penal colony Sakhalin recognized as a dissertation [desecration?] failed. In many ways, Chekhov was a hard-working idealist, but one without illusions. Doctors appear as the main character or one of the main characters in 25 of Chekhov's hundreds of stories as well as in various plays. Although Chekhov undoubtedly will have incorporated his own experiences into his works, he did not give a picture of his own medical activities in the doctors he portrayed. A large number of the doctors he describes are depressed, nervous or irritable. Others are naïve and clumsy, while others still are skeptic, cynical or disillusioned. In some of the descriptions the image of Chekhov as a doctor may be observed."

Literary Hub published "Every Country Has a Chekhov" on July 15, 2015.

The doctor is in.  Chekhov graduated from medical school in 1884.

I think intellectually my hero is Anton Chekhov, who was for me the greatest artist of late modernity, whose appreciation of finding the genius in the everyday, whose unbelievable commitment to compassion against the backdrop of human’s darkness is unprecedented. We would have to go back to Shakespeare and on back to Sophocles in the West to compare with the depths of his genius.

 - Cornel West