Talent
Anybody who has dreamed of creating great art one day will appreciate this cautionary tale.
Dreaming and doing are two very different things.
Yegor Savvitch is a dreamer. He has all the trappings of the artist -- the unkempt look -- the desire to be free -- the need to be admired -- but unfortunately he lacks the talent. He has spent all summer pretending to be an artist instead of actually being an artist. All he has done during the summer holiday is a poorly drawn sketch of his landlady's daughter, Katya. In fact, due to her desire to break away from her cruel mother, Katya has bought into Yegor Savvitch's illusions. She wants to marry him and live with a famous artist.
Chekhov obviously knows what it takes to create great art -- and I'm sure then as now, there are many who pretend but few who actually accomplish.
As he aptly writes in the story: " . . . only two or three rise to any position and all others draw blanks in the lottery, perish playing the part of flesh to cannon."
And if you want to rise, then you better work night and day.
Well, on the other hand, it's a lot more romantic to act like an artist than to actually do the art. Creating takes a lot of sweat, time, dedication and craft -- it's much more pleasant to have a few glasses of vodka and simply talk.
The Goal: Read. Reflect. Respond. Over two hundred Chekhov stories. Constance Garnett translations.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
THE HELPMATE
The Helpmate
I love the ending of this story.
It's unexpected but totally logical.
What I liked best about The Helpmate, a story of a doctor married to a woman who is cheating on him, is the dialogue between the doctor and his wife. Especially, the wife.
Chekhov creates a woman who totally and completely cares about only herself. The doctor is a victim of passion -- this is beginning to sound like a familiar theme in Chekhov's stories -- he married this woman because she was a beautiful looking woman and he fell into her trap and now his life is a living hell.
His wife, Olga Dmitrievna might well indeed be completely selfish, but what about the doctor? If he felt she was not a good match for him -- he should have let her go years ago -- but it seems he continued this marriage -- but for what?
He is also a victim of his own insecurities and jealousies -- he thinks of himself as an honest, uninteresting man from a clerical family practicing medicine.
Well, what does he expect from a vivacious, young, and pretty woman -- to just be home -- living a boring life -- serving him hand and foot?
It takes two to tango.
After reading this story -- I am more curious to meet the wife rather than the doctor.
She may be utterly self-absorbed but at least she doesn't pretend to be a saint.
I love the ending of this story.
It's unexpected but totally logical.
What I liked best about The Helpmate, a story of a doctor married to a woman who is cheating on him, is the dialogue between the doctor and his wife. Especially, the wife.
Chekhov creates a woman who totally and completely cares about only herself. The doctor is a victim of passion -- this is beginning to sound like a familiar theme in Chekhov's stories -- he married this woman because she was a beautiful looking woman and he fell into her trap and now his life is a living hell.
His wife, Olga Dmitrievna might well indeed be completely selfish, but what about the doctor? If he felt she was not a good match for him -- he should have let her go years ago -- but it seems he continued this marriage -- but for what?
He is also a victim of his own insecurities and jealousies -- he thinks of himself as an honest, uninteresting man from a clerical family practicing medicine.
Well, what does he expect from a vivacious, young, and pretty woman -- to just be home -- living a boring life -- serving him hand and foot?
It takes two to tango.
After reading this story -- I am more curious to meet the wife rather than the doctor.
She may be utterly self-absorbed but at least she doesn't pretend to be a saint.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
THE TROUSSEAU
The Trousseau
You may read this story and put it down as just a simple little story. But that's what makes Chekhov Chekhov.
In this simple story he captures the human condition.
A man visits a country home and finds a mother and her daughter keeping themselves busy sewing for the eventual marriage of the daughter. Chekhov's description of the daughter already confirms in our mind that the daughter will never actually marry -- yet, the hope is all that matters to this family.
Here we see the seeds of the great Chekhov plays; creating a life exclusively based on hope is a rope that lifts you up as it gradually strangles you.
You may read this story and put it down as just a simple little story. But that's what makes Chekhov Chekhov.
In this simple story he captures the human condition.
A man visits a country home and finds a mother and her daughter keeping themselves busy sewing for the eventual marriage of the daughter. Chekhov's description of the daughter already confirms in our mind that the daughter will never actually marry -- yet, the hope is all that matters to this family.
Here we see the seeds of the great Chekhov plays; creating a life exclusively based on hope is a rope that lifts you up as it gradually strangles you.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
THE TWO VOLODYAS
The Two Volodyas
What I am finding interesting as I continue to read Chekhov's short stories are his female characters. He really seems to possess great compassion for them; it's as if he is their sole advocate. Many of the stories so far have highlighted how unfairly Russian society during that time treated women. How so many highly capable women had to conform or could never live up to their potential. Men had the upper hand and no matter how talented and beautiful of a woman you were -- you had to reduce yourself to being with a man (many not worthy) for money or simply to avoid being seen as an old maid.
The Two Volodyas presents us with Sofya Lvovna, a vivacious young woman of twenty-three recently married to Colonel Yagitch, 54, two years older than her father. She married him for money. We are introduced to her as she is coming home from a dinner party in a sledge, inebriated, trying to convince herself that she actually loves her husband. In fact, she is madly in love with Volodya, 30, who is writing a thesis on foreign literature. She grew up with Volodya, loved him from afar but never expressed her love to him directly. He is quite handsome and has many ladies throwing themselves his way. Just like Colonel Yagitch had during his heyday.
Sofya Lvovna is not happy. Her misery stems from the realization that she will go through life with a man she doesn't love. As she meditates on her position, the sledge passes by a church where Olga, a nun, and a friend of Sofya Lvovna, lives. It seems in those days, many young women entered the nunnery to escape the grim realities of their existence. Olga's brother was sent to penal servitude and her mother has recently died. Once, a lively soul who loved to attend balls and have fun, Olga, according to Sofya Lvovna, has become a cold, lifeless being.
Sofya Lvovna wants to rebel against the established order. She wants to shout to the world her longings, her passions. But when she is realistic about her prospects -- she almost envies Olga -- at least she has come to terms with her life and she has God with her. What, Sofya Lvovna thinks, will she have as she gets old.
Eventually, Sofya Lvovna throws herself at Volodya and he uses her for a week and then dumps her. And she is left alone with her yearnings and ambitions unrealized. She often goes to complain to Olga and one wonders whether Sofya Lvovna will some day too resort to hitch her lot with the nuns.
What I am finding interesting as I continue to read Chekhov's short stories are his female characters. He really seems to possess great compassion for them; it's as if he is their sole advocate. Many of the stories so far have highlighted how unfairly Russian society during that time treated women. How so many highly capable women had to conform or could never live up to their potential. Men had the upper hand and no matter how talented and beautiful of a woman you were -- you had to reduce yourself to being with a man (many not worthy) for money or simply to avoid being seen as an old maid.
The Two Volodyas presents us with Sofya Lvovna, a vivacious young woman of twenty-three recently married to Colonel Yagitch, 54, two years older than her father. She married him for money. We are introduced to her as she is coming home from a dinner party in a sledge, inebriated, trying to convince herself that she actually loves her husband. In fact, she is madly in love with Volodya, 30, who is writing a thesis on foreign literature. She grew up with Volodya, loved him from afar but never expressed her love to him directly. He is quite handsome and has many ladies throwing themselves his way. Just like Colonel Yagitch had during his heyday.
Sofya Lvovna is not happy. Her misery stems from the realization that she will go through life with a man she doesn't love. As she meditates on her position, the sledge passes by a church where Olga, a nun, and a friend of Sofya Lvovna, lives. It seems in those days, many young women entered the nunnery to escape the grim realities of their existence. Olga's brother was sent to penal servitude and her mother has recently died. Once, a lively soul who loved to attend balls and have fun, Olga, according to Sofya Lvovna, has become a cold, lifeless being.
Sofya Lvovna wants to rebel against the established order. She wants to shout to the world her longings, her passions. But when she is realistic about her prospects -- she almost envies Olga -- at least she has come to terms with her life and she has God with her. What, Sofya Lvovna thinks, will she have as she gets old.
Eventually, Sofya Lvovna throws herself at Volodya and he uses her for a week and then dumps her. And she is left alone with her yearnings and ambitions unrealized. She often goes to complain to Olga and one wonders whether Sofya Lvovna will some day too resort to hitch her lot with the nuns.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
ANYUTA
Anyuta
Anyuta lives in a furnished room with Klotchkov, a medical student. For the last six or seven years, she has lived with five other students. She is busy working embroidering a shirt for which she will be paid half a rouble. She will use the money to buy tea and tobacco.
Klotchkov treats Anyuta like an object. He asks her to undress so he can examine her ribs and draws on her body with crayons. Anyuta shivers with cold and her nose and lips turn blue.
Klotchkov is totally oblivious to her suffering. You wonder what kind of doctor he will make. He is self-absorbed and only concerned with passing his exams.
When his artist friend, Fetisov, needs a model, he gladly dispatches Anyuta to him. To make matters even worse, as he recalls Fetisov's criticism of his filthy surroundings -- he decides to end his relationship with Anyuta. After she returns from a grueling modeling session with Fetisov, he tells her that she should pack her things and move out.
Finally, showing some pity towards her, or perhaps realizing that in fact he may still need her services for a while longer, he allows her to stay.
In this story, we can clearly see the cruelty of the class system that existed in Russia at the time.
Anyuta lives in a furnished room with Klotchkov, a medical student. For the last six or seven years, she has lived with five other students. She is busy working embroidering a shirt for which she will be paid half a rouble. She will use the money to buy tea and tobacco.
Klotchkov treats Anyuta like an object. He asks her to undress so he can examine her ribs and draws on her body with crayons. Anyuta shivers with cold and her nose and lips turn blue.
Klotchkov is totally oblivious to her suffering. You wonder what kind of doctor he will make. He is self-absorbed and only concerned with passing his exams.
When his artist friend, Fetisov, needs a model, he gladly dispatches Anyuta to him. To make matters even worse, as he recalls Fetisov's criticism of his filthy surroundings -- he decides to end his relationship with Anyuta. After she returns from a grueling modeling session with Fetisov, he tells her that she should pack her things and move out.
Finally, showing some pity towards her, or perhaps realizing that in fact he may still need her services for a while longer, he allows her to stay.
In this story, we can clearly see the cruelty of the class system that existed in Russia at the time.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
POLINKA
Polinka
A sketch of two characters.
It takes place in a store that sells drapery.
Polinka is a dressmaker who is in love with a student. We never meet the student. Instead, we are introduced to Nikolay Timofeitch, a salesman who attends to Polinka. Nikolay Timofeitch is in love with Polinka. He wants to protect her from being hurt. He tells her that the student will always look down on her because she is uneducated.
Chekhov gets a lot accomplished in a few pages. He skillfully recreates the ambience of the store while he invites us inside a classic story.
Polinka is seduced by the world of the student.
She wants to be a part of that world. She wants to be married to a future doctor or lawyer. She wants to move up the social ladder. But Nikolay Tomofeitch knows the pitfalls of her dreams. He knows that in the end she will be an outcast in that loftier world. According to Nikolay Timofietch, Polinka should just accept her fate -- she is an uneducated dressmaker and she should marry within her own class.
This is a story which continues to this day.
We know that Polinka is yearning for something more than her immediate surroundings -- logic and reason won't stop her from trying to taste a different world -- a different life.
Maybe she would be happier with Nikolay Timofeitch -- we don't know -- what we do know is her heart longs for a better life. A more exciting life.
She can't help herself.
Love and dreams can't be contained by merely the prudent.
A sketch of two characters.
It takes place in a store that sells drapery.
Polinka is a dressmaker who is in love with a student. We never meet the student. Instead, we are introduced to Nikolay Timofeitch, a salesman who attends to Polinka. Nikolay Timofeitch is in love with Polinka. He wants to protect her from being hurt. He tells her that the student will always look down on her because she is uneducated.
Chekhov gets a lot accomplished in a few pages. He skillfully recreates the ambience of the store while he invites us inside a classic story.
Polinka is seduced by the world of the student.
She wants to be a part of that world. She wants to be married to a future doctor or lawyer. She wants to move up the social ladder. But Nikolay Tomofeitch knows the pitfalls of her dreams. He knows that in the end she will be an outcast in that loftier world. According to Nikolay Timofietch, Polinka should just accept her fate -- she is an uneducated dressmaker and she should marry within her own class.
This is a story which continues to this day.
We know that Polinka is yearning for something more than her immediate surroundings -- logic and reason won't stop her from trying to taste a different world -- a different life.
Maybe she would be happier with Nikolay Timofeitch -- we don't know -- what we do know is her heart longs for a better life. A more exciting life.
She can't help herself.
Love and dreams can't be contained by merely the prudent.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
ARIADNE
Ariadne
The story begins on a ship where Shamohin, a Moscow landowner shares his musings on love and women.
It seems this Shamohin has become a hostage to love. He is madly in love with Ariadne -- who is a charming young woman who lives nearby -- she is of noble stock but is rather broke. By all accounts he should marry Ariadne and live happily ever after.
But this Shamohin can't get himself to propose to Ariadne. He feels totally smitten with her, however, he also realizes she doesn't love him. He acknowledges how beautiful and vivacious Ariadne is -- yet he also sees she is selfish, hedonistic, a social climber, a pleaser -- in fact when he breaks down her character he doesn't think very highly of her at all.
If only he wasn't so in love with her -- if only he could break away from her.
Ariadne finally takes off with an older married man to Italy -- Shamohin tries to shrug it off but he is racked by jealousy and when she contacts him he runs off to her only to escape in disgust -- and when she writes to him again some time later -- he can't resist again and off he goes to Rome to see her.
Finally, he becomes her lover and for a month or so he lives in total rapture -- although little by little this physical attraction to her begins to wear off and the more he sees her at close range the more she begins to repel him.
We hear everything from Shamohin's perspective until the end when the narrator actually describes Ariadne as quite a beguiling creature.
Is this just a story of a simple man who couldn't appreciate the talent and beauty of Ariadne -- who because he felt so insecure about his own worth thought that Ariadne couldn't possibly love him?
Is this a story of a man who could have been extremely happy with an exciting woman but who uses his brain so much to analyze the situation and instead of living and enjoying himself -- has made his life a hellish one?
Shamohin might've been too afraid to confront head on a great character like Ariadne -- so instead he makes up excuses for why she's not worth his time. Granted, taking care of a woman like Ariadne is a lot of work -- and seems like it would cost a lot of money -- but as that MasterCard commercial would put it: True Love -- Priceless.
In the end Shamohin will go back to the country and live most likely alone and unhappy. And he will feel free.
Poor man!
The story begins on a ship where Shamohin, a Moscow landowner shares his musings on love and women.
It seems this Shamohin has become a hostage to love. He is madly in love with Ariadne -- who is a charming young woman who lives nearby -- she is of noble stock but is rather broke. By all accounts he should marry Ariadne and live happily ever after.
But this Shamohin can't get himself to propose to Ariadne. He feels totally smitten with her, however, he also realizes she doesn't love him. He acknowledges how beautiful and vivacious Ariadne is -- yet he also sees she is selfish, hedonistic, a social climber, a pleaser -- in fact when he breaks down her character he doesn't think very highly of her at all.
If only he wasn't so in love with her -- if only he could break away from her.
Ariadne finally takes off with an older married man to Italy -- Shamohin tries to shrug it off but he is racked by jealousy and when she contacts him he runs off to her only to escape in disgust -- and when she writes to him again some time later -- he can't resist again and off he goes to Rome to see her.
Finally, he becomes her lover and for a month or so he lives in total rapture -- although little by little this physical attraction to her begins to wear off and the more he sees her at close range the more she begins to repel him.
We hear everything from Shamohin's perspective until the end when the narrator actually describes Ariadne as quite a beguiling creature.
Is this just a story of a simple man who couldn't appreciate the talent and beauty of Ariadne -- who because he felt so insecure about his own worth thought that Ariadne couldn't possibly love him?
Is this a story of a man who could have been extremely happy with an exciting woman but who uses his brain so much to analyze the situation and instead of living and enjoying himself -- has made his life a hellish one?
Shamohin might've been too afraid to confront head on a great character like Ariadne -- so instead he makes up excuses for why she's not worth his time. Granted, taking care of a woman like Ariadne is a lot of work -- and seems like it would cost a lot of money -- but as that MasterCard commercial would put it: True Love -- Priceless.
In the end Shamohin will go back to the country and live most likely alone and unhappy. And he will feel free.
Poor man!
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