Sunday, June 26, 2011

UPROOTED


What did I get from this story? People are searching for meaning. For a place to belong. That some are willing to give up everything for a chance to expand their horizons.

Alexandr Ivanitch is a good character study. A converted Jew -- he seems to have gone through quite a journey. He has left all he knew for a chance to live a different life than his parents planned for him.

But it has come at a cost. He is fragile. His conscience is troubling him. Or is he just tired of being on the road alone not knowing where he is going to find his next meal? And there appears to be many in Russia at the time -- homeless -- hobos if you want to call them that -- searching for food -- for a job -- for a place. 

And many are drawn to monasteries where the Church provides some relief -- like a soup kitchen -- but there is also the question of finding spiritual solace.

We are left feeling that Alexandr Ivanitch and the countless others out there trying to survive -- while there might be a lot of masses and prayers -- finding their place -- their connection to God is more complicated --  few will get to the place where they're truly at peace with themselves and with their soul.

Alexandr Ivanitch formerly Isaac -- talks a lot of moving from the Old Testament to the New Testament -- but he doesn't sound convincing -- whatever his reasons he is not going to proselytize anyone -- his is a personal journey -- a young man wanting more than his immediate surrounding can afford him -- and as we have seen in many other Chekhov stories -- the quest for identity -- for meaning -- is something that bounds the young and old from many places and many backgrounds.

And it goes on -- when a young man or woman leave their family and small town and head out to the big city -- they may give you a reason or two for their action -- but the yearning that propels will always have its mystery and may take a lifetime to finally get an answer.

If ever.

After all, once uprooted -- you are at the mercy of the wind.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

THE MURDER

The Murder

This wasn't an easy story to read. I kept going back to it -- and after a few pages I'd fall asleep. Maybe I've read too many Chekhov stories. Or maybe this story lends itself to making you sleepy.

What's it about?

Good and evil.

Finding true spirituality.

Sin.

Religion. 

All of the above and more.

What's missing? For me -- the characters just didn't quite come to life -- it picks up after the murder -- but it drags quite a bit before that.  In any case, lets break down the story a bit, shall we?

It starts of with Matvey who likes to sing. Matvey's family runs a bar. Used to run a tile factory. Matvey is now down and out. He's given away all of his money to some working woman who had his child.

But the story switches focus to Yakov Ivanitch,  his cousin who rejects all the established religious ways because he feels they are too corrupted. Matvey thinks Yakov is gone off the deep end and Yakov can't wait to get rid of Matvey. They are at each other's throat. Both inside are miserable. They are searching for some meaning but are having no luck.

So Matvey is pure -- because he doesn't care for material possessions and Yakov Ivanitch is corrupted because he makes his money selling Vodka but Matvey doesn't seem so pure and Yakov Ivanitch wants to find salvation.  There is a lot of talk about repenting and I began repenting falling asleep while reading the story.

And then finally ( thankfully) Matvey overplays his hand and Yakov Ivanitch whacks him. Which is bad. Sort of. Something finally happens. And in the end -- Yakov Ivanitch finds his way back to a true spiritual awakening in the bowels of a Siberian prison camp.

Too little. Too late.

Maybe like this story -- by the time I started to like it -- it was over.

To get back to the point of why this story didn't work for me. Look at the characters of Aglaia and Dashutka. Who are they? What are they about? They are just shadows. In a way -- Sergey Nikanoritch -- the waiter -- is the most developed character. At least you understand him. Except he's not central to the story.

As a whole the story seems more concerned about morality and sin -- and all the other religious topics it deals with -- but what usually drives a good Chekhov piece are the people -- and these people frankly didn't inspire me -- didn't jump off the page. I didn't want to live in their world -- know them -- what was there to lure me in? They are struggling with something. But that just wasn't enough for me to care about them.

The last scene when Yakov Ivanitch is in a Siberian prison was good -- really good -- the world of the prison -- the hopelessness -- the cruelty -- the suffering -- is captured quickly and Yakov Ivanitch in this scene grabs your attention -- I almost wished the story began there.

Maybe this story like this blog entry is too long. I got used to reading other Chekhov stories where everything is more condensed and things happen more quickly.

I'll shut up now before you get an urge to . . .

Sunday, June 19, 2011

A NIGHTMARE


Don't judge a book by its cover.

Reminds a bit of Mamet's play Oleanna.

We see everything at first from the point of view of Kunin, "a well-intentioned but unreflecting and over-comfortable person." And what he sees is a nightmare. The priest is completely ineffective, weak, stupid and is not up to the job.

But then we get the point of view of Father Yakov and we soon learn why he wears patches on the elbows of his cassock. He is completely poor because he gives all he has to help others and he doesn't even have enough for tea for himself and his wife. And then we realize what the real nightmare is:

Some live with trays full of biscuits and some can't even afford one.

There is another story,  Herman Wouk's The Caine Mutiny, that also comes to mind. It also relates a story from one point of view and we make our judgements based on that point of view until we are then given a different point of view and our reality is changed.

Chekhov also does something similar in his story - The Letter.

In fact, we all  make judgements from our own perspective and most of us are blind or uniformed to the way the world looks to others. We assume and glean bits of information to base our judgements but I'm certain if we really knew all the facts we'd look at things differently.

The reality is we would rather not know the way things really are -- it takes too much work -- it's a lot easier to just assume things and go through life without those assumptions being challenged.

Books are judged by their covers and that's why millions are spent on designing a catchy cover.

And that is truly a nightmare.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

EASTER EVE


A ferry.

Life and death.

A monastery.

A monk with a special gift.

Unappreciated.

Except by Ieronim, the ferryman.

Nikolay, the monk with a special talent for writing hymns of praise is dead.

Soon to be forgotten.

Never much appreciated.

Except by Ieronim the ferryman who keeps his tender songs alive in his heart.

Mood is central to this piece.

The stars. The river. The ferry. The darkness.

Easter.

Festivity.

Mourning.

For a life gone.

For a talent lost.

For a dear friend.

For all of us.

THE LETTER


"To err is human, to forgive divine."

That's the message.

It's easy to blame and make others feel guilty. In the end, we all live the life we choose and sometimes that life is good and sometimes it's not.

When we look at others we can choose to tell them where they've gone wrong -- but mostly that won't be very much help -- so if we look at our own frailties we might be more willing to forgive and love rather than punish and hate.

This story involving two priests and a deacon gets at the heart of religion -- and makes the case that the best way to help others is to offer a hand not a whip.

The Letter is a well-crafted story and holds your interest to the very end.

Will the letter be sent or not?

And the old man, Father Anastasy,  who seems at the beginning of the story to have no hope and no redeeming feature and the vital Father Orlov who appears to be the epitome of virtue at the start -- by the end our impressions of them have been reversed.

Chekhov has made us convert -- we have compassion for the old man and see he is worthy of forgiveness and we feel Father Orlov needs a long way to go before he is truly a man of God.

And that is the miracle of this story.

THE BISHOP


The bishop lived. The bishop died.

He enjoyed his life. Parts of it.

In the end as he is dying of Typhoid -- something is gnawing him -- leaving him with an uneasy feeling.

I am reminded of Thoreau's saying: "Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them."

The bishop comes from a long line of clerics. Maybe he got into the church because he felt an obligation. He did what was expected of him. And inside of him -- he longed for something else.

Or maybe the bishop just got burned-out. It happens to teachers -- to doctors -- to everyone I guess -- you reach a point where you lose your passion -- and then all that was interesting becomes dull and you never recapture the love you once had.

And we are all replaceable.

The bishop dies. A new bishop comes to town and the old bishop is forgotten.

Only his mother remembers him.

The love of a mother -- well, that's something that is not replaceable.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

PEASANTS


They are poor, dirty, noisy, lazy, drunkards -- but human beings.

Chekhov doesn't spare anything in his description of the peasants. 

It's not a pretty picture.

Yet, somehow, there is something majestic in village life. The air is pure and the people endure.

They endure despite the poverty, the mistreatment by officials -- they do what they can with what they have.

Sure -- there is a lot in this story that is revolting -- especially the beatings Kiryak gives his wife and how the family seems complacent about them.

The peasants live close to nature -- the heat and the cold are vividly felt -- they have no place to hide -- they live with the bugs and the sunsets -- drink cheap vodka under the stars -- eat food they grow and abuse one another -- sing and dance in the meadow -- suffer and fear death -- they are in touch with the good and the bad.

The poverty does make their lives hard -- they could easily give up -- but they don't.

Should we feel sorry for them? Disgust? Compassion?

They are who they are.

They could treat each other better.

But we all could do that.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

A MALEFACTOR

A Malefactor

The conversation revolves around a nut but it reveals a lot about the cultural differences between those with power and those who feel powerless. Between those who uphold the law and those who see the law as an impediment.

The magistrate sees the consequences of the unscrewing of the nut and is worried about trains being derailed and people being killed -- and the peasant sees the nut as vital to his livelihood and rationalizes his actions.

As the famous line from Cool Hand Luke goes:  "What we've got here is (a) failure to communicate"

The magistrate asks questions to Denis Grigoryev -- a down and out peasant. And we see in the disconnect between the magistrate and the peasant -- the different ways they approach life.

The magistrate demands logic and reason -- but what's logical to the magistrate is illogical to the peasant. So what the magistrate is demanding from the peasant is impossible. He wants him to conform to rules which in Denis Grigoryev's eyes make no sense.

He needs the nuts to fish and eat -- so how can he stop taking them?

What's great about this story is it's so simple -- but it reveals so much. The same arguments made in this story by the magistrate and the peasant are still being made every day -- by those who feel disenfranchised -- with nothing to gain by following the established norm -- so they do what they feel they have to do -- and when caught they are sent to jail -- but that won't change their behavior.

As long as someone needs a nut or anything else to survive -- they will find a way to take it -- and those with a vested interest in keeping things as they are will do whatever they can to stop them.

What is needed then in this story and in our current world -- is some sort of reform -- where people can survive without feeling they have to unscrew nuts which are needed to keep the trains running. But reform is always talked about and very rarely occurs. The well-heeled are not going to give up their privileges willingly and not only that -- they will actually encourage the so-called criminality of the peasants by buying fishing nets laden with nuts from them.

Class differences will always exist -- and one class will always have their priorities -- and those priorities are bound to clash -- and the conversation about these priorities will likely continue along the lines we find in A Malefactor.

What amazes me about Chekhov is that his stories written about particular incidents occurring in Russia in the 19th century are so universal and timeless.

Duh -- that's why he's a classic.