A FATHER

A Father

He can't help himself. He drinks. He gambles. He lies. But he's the father so he has to be respected.

Ok. I'm tired of being nice.

He is a demon. A monster. A scoundrel. Despicable.

Ok. I'm tired of being hateful.

His children seem to have become good people. They are doing right by him.

What do you do with a father like this? Do you turn your back on him and never see him again? Do you try to reform him? Or do you do what he says his children do -- which is to accept him for what he is and try to give him help when he needs it?

What's great about this story is how Chekhov doesn't try to gloss over the father's imperfections. He shows him to be a monster and once you've gone there -- well -- why hold back? There's nothing more fun than depicting a monster in all his glory.

He exposes him for everything he is. There is no pity. No sympathy.

And yet -- what about the children -- especially Boris. He is the son and if he still loves his father -- then should we admire that kind of devotion?

Sure one feels like yelling at the father and Boris and those women in the hole -- what's wrong with you people? Get this man some help. Boris, get out of there. Don't enable him!

Modern psychiatric pop talk inevitably creeps in. Twelve step programs. Co-dependency. Narcissistic personality disorder. You name it.

But in the end you have a father and his son. And if the father has failings -- then the son if he has a heart will try to offer him a hand -- because -- he's a son.