The Lottery Ticket
Winning.
A long time married couple wonders what if they won the lottery.
The husband is checking the newspaper to see if the ticket the wife bought is a winner. He finds that the series of the ticket matches and they are only one number away from hitting the jackpot. And they begin to fantasize about what would happen if they have the winning ticket.
He begins to ponder about how his wife has become old and plain and how he could have a whole new life without her and how much he despises her relatives and his own family.
She quickly figures out that the husband will try to build his dreams on her riches.
The story is almost like the Garden of Eden tale from the bible. The lottery ticket is the apple -- and although they don't actually taste it -- it changes the perception of their world -- before they were just living and not thinking much about their state in life -- but the lure of the lottery winnings awakens them to their lowly lives.
Ignorance is bliss.
I also remember reading somewhere that people who actually do win the lottery do not become any happier.
I'd like to test out that theory myself.
The Goal: Read. Reflect. Respond. Over two hundred Chekhov stories. Constance Garnett translations.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
ABOUT LOVE
About Love
Love.
Alehin loves Anna Alexyevna.
Anna Alexyevna loves Alehin.
She is married to an older man.
She has children.
Alehin rationalizes and keeps his feelings to himself.
Anna Alexyevna rationalizes and keeps her feelings to herself.
Until Alexyevna is leaving.
But then it's too late.
They never see each other again.
Love.
Great Mystery.
Great story.
It really touched me.
A Romantic?
ABSOLUTELY!
Love.
Alehin loves Anna Alexyevna.
Anna Alexyevna loves Alehin.
She is married to an older man.
She has children.
Alehin rationalizes and keeps his feelings to himself.
Anna Alexyevna rationalizes and keeps her feelings to herself.
Until Alexyevna is leaving.
But then it's too late.
They never see each other again.
Love.
Great Mystery.
Great story.
It really touched me.
A Romantic?
ABSOLUTELY!
GOOSEBERRIES
Gooseberries
Achieving your dreams is good. Unless all it gets you is becoming fat and lazy.
And it depends on what you dream about. If all you want is a house in the country and some gooseberries -- then maybe your dreams aren't big enough -- too selfish?
If you are going to dream -- dream big -- work hard -- do something for the community that actually means something beyond handing out a gallon of vodka.
You can walk away from this story with this message -- but Chekhov is more than that and I am beginning to realize (duh!) that his stories can be taken on many levels -- the levels depend on you -- the reader.
This is also a story of siblings -- brothers -- and brothers compete -- when one succeeds the other might very well feel like a failure -- and in this story you only hear one side.
This is also a story of siblings -- brothers -- and brothers compete -- when one succeeds the other might very well feel like a failure -- and in this story you only hear one side.
Only one brother -- Ivan Ivanovitch tells the tale -- and we don't really know much about Ivan Ivanovitch -- except something is bothering him -- what is it really?
Is it that the brother, Nikolay Ivanovitch, is happy when the whole world is suffering? Possibly. However, people don't usually work that way.
Something personal is bothering Ivan Ivanovitch. Is it that his brother has realized his dreams?
Nikolay Ivanovitch has a happy family -- a nice house -- and is respected and admired and Ivan Ivanovitch might not have a family or a house -- and no one may admire him like they admire his brother.
Nikolay Ivanovitch, passes himself off as a noble -- Ivan Ivanovitch keeps harking back to the fact that their grandfather was a peasant -- why?
When all is said and done -- one would have to look at jealousy as a possible motive for why Ivan Ivanovitch is so disturbed by the visit to his brother.
Chekhov ends the story reminding us of the smell of Ivan Ivanovitch's pipe.
Something is rotten somewhere.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
THE MAN IN A CASE
The Man in a Case
Talk about uptight. Repressed.
Byelikov is afraid. Like a turtle who senses danger and hides in the shell -- Byelikov -- oh, let's put it bluntly -- he's anal.
Rules and order protect him from the ferocity of life -- he won't take any risks -- and any deviation from the established ways gets him all panicked.
He is the living dead -- a zombie -- who hides from living -- and no matter how much good fortune comes his way -- he will always find an excuse to shy away from it.
And consequently -- all the joys -- all the passion -- all the new -- all the arts -- all the progress -- all the freedom -- is a threat.
Every age has Byelikovs. Forces who can't handle the intensity of life and do their best to contain it.
In fact, we all have a Byelikov inside of us.
And it is up to us to decide what to do with him. .
Talk about uptight. Repressed.
Byelikov is afraid. Like a turtle who senses danger and hides in the shell -- Byelikov -- oh, let's put it bluntly -- he's anal.
Rules and order protect him from the ferocity of life -- he won't take any risks -- and any deviation from the established ways gets him all panicked.
He is the living dead -- a zombie -- who hides from living -- and no matter how much good fortune comes his way -- he will always find an excuse to shy away from it.
And consequently -- all the joys -- all the passion -- all the new -- all the arts -- all the progress -- all the freedom -- is a threat.
Every age has Byelikovs. Forces who can't handle the intensity of life and do their best to contain it.
In fact, we all have a Byelikov inside of us.
And it is up to us to decide what to do with him. .
THE PRIVY COUNCILLOR
The Privy Councillor
A boy eagerly awaits his uncle who is coming to spend the summer with the family.
The uncle is from Petersburg and is a general. The boy expects to find someone dressed and looking like a soldier and instead finds a short man who doesn't act like or resemble a general.
And nothing seems to happen. Life goes on as usual.
Except the uncle who has never married falls for the bailiff's wife and she rejects him and after that nothing is the same.
The uncle begins to complain and starts behaving like someone of his rank and his sister, the boy's mother, finally gives him three thousand roubles to make him leave. (Be careful what you wish for.)
There's a few things I enjoyed in this story. The best is the point of view -- we see everything from the boy's eyes. At times the boy sounds like -- well -- a boy and at other times he sounds much older. But why quibble.
This perspective helps us look at the world with curious and observant eyes. And also the boy's point of view is not harsh -- but forgiving -- not judgmental -- the boy expects certain things and we learn through him that things are not always what they seem or are they? It's a great way to tell the story and probably the only way this story works.
Another is the uncle -- at first he seems like a regular Joe -- not one to be stuck up or worry about formalities -- easy going -- and then he shows his true stripes -- and in life we find people who might pass themselves off as one thing or another until some crisis strikes and then we see their true colors.
And then there is the description of Tatyana -- the uncle's love interest. "Not everyone would have called Tatyana a beauty. She was a plump little woman of twenty, with black eyebrows and a graceful figure, always rosy and attractive-looking, but in her face and in her whole person there was not one striking feature, not one bold line to catch the eye, as though nature had lacked inspiration and confidence when creating her." Pure Chekhov.
A boy eagerly awaits his uncle who is coming to spend the summer with the family.
The uncle is from Petersburg and is a general. The boy expects to find someone dressed and looking like a soldier and instead finds a short man who doesn't act like or resemble a general.
And nothing seems to happen. Life goes on as usual.
Except the uncle who has never married falls for the bailiff's wife and she rejects him and after that nothing is the same.
The uncle begins to complain and starts behaving like someone of his rank and his sister, the boy's mother, finally gives him three thousand roubles to make him leave. (Be careful what you wish for.)
There's a few things I enjoyed in this story. The best is the point of view -- we see everything from the boy's eyes. At times the boy sounds like -- well -- a boy and at other times he sounds much older. But why quibble.
This perspective helps us look at the world with curious and observant eyes. And also the boy's point of view is not harsh -- but forgiving -- not judgmental -- the boy expects certain things and we learn through him that things are not always what they seem or are they? It's a great way to tell the story and probably the only way this story works.
Another is the uncle -- at first he seems like a regular Joe -- not one to be stuck up or worry about formalities -- easy going -- and then he shows his true stripes -- and in life we find people who might pass themselves off as one thing or another until some crisis strikes and then we see their true colors.
And then there is the description of Tatyana -- the uncle's love interest. "Not everyone would have called Tatyana a beauty. She was a plump little woman of twenty, with black eyebrows and a graceful figure, always rosy and attractive-looking, but in her face and in her whole person there was not one striking feature, not one bold line to catch the eye, as though nature had lacked inspiration and confidence when creating her." Pure Chekhov.
A DREARY STORY
A Dreary Story
A famous professor of medicine is dying. Or so he thinks. We are told of his demise in a first person narrative.
He contemplates. About his life -- what he has achieved -- how his mental facilities are diminishing. And everything else.
Let's just say he's not in the best of moods.
A solemn meditation on the meaning of life -- especially when one is facing the abyss -- I am reminded of Picasso's last drawing of himself peering into the eternal nothingness.
Yes, this is not the most enjoyable story I've read in my Chekhov journey. Honestly, as I was reading it I couldn't wait for it to end. But once over you realize that the professor was brutally honest about his life -- his achievements -- about everything -- and the truth is not tasteful -- we would rather be entertained -- with gossip -- love -- or some other life force -- but this story keeps looking squarely at the emptiness of existence and doesn't flinch.
Having just read The Grasshopper -- a much more entertaining Chekhov story -- I see the connection between this story and The Grasshopper in how it deals with the notion of fame -- in The Grasshopper Olga Ivanovna's happiness is destroyed by her pursuit of fame -- and here the professor has achieved fame and he comes to realize that what society says about you means little when compared to how you feel about yourself -- and of course we see it every day when many famous people on the outside are very miserable inside of themselves.
The professor does take some comfort that he lived his life the right way and dedicated himself to something noble -- but like Mr. Holland's Opus sans Hollywood ending -- you dedicate yourself to students and science and family -- but in the end you get old -- you lose your strength and the pleasures of life evaporate -- and you are on your own as you continue to wither and eventually die.
Gee, that's a pleasant thought!
Maybe surrounded by so much dreariness I couldn't help myself and I must confess that I fell in love with Katya.
Katya. She wanted to be an actress and has come to the realization that she has no talent. But she is desperately trying to find some meaning -- some joy to give her a reason to keep going. She is not shallow -- doesn't care what impression she makes on society -- she's beyond all the show and is looking for real truth.
Professor Nikolay Stepanovitch knows the truth and it ain't pretty.
A famous professor of medicine is dying. Or so he thinks. We are told of his demise in a first person narrative.
He contemplates. About his life -- what he has achieved -- how his mental facilities are diminishing. And everything else.
Let's just say he's not in the best of moods.
A solemn meditation on the meaning of life -- especially when one is facing the abyss -- I am reminded of Picasso's last drawing of himself peering into the eternal nothingness.
Yes, this is not the most enjoyable story I've read in my Chekhov journey. Honestly, as I was reading it I couldn't wait for it to end. But once over you realize that the professor was brutally honest about his life -- his achievements -- about everything -- and the truth is not tasteful -- we would rather be entertained -- with gossip -- love -- or some other life force -- but this story keeps looking squarely at the emptiness of existence and doesn't flinch.
Having just read The Grasshopper -- a much more entertaining Chekhov story -- I see the connection between this story and The Grasshopper in how it deals with the notion of fame -- in The Grasshopper Olga Ivanovna's happiness is destroyed by her pursuit of fame -- and here the professor has achieved fame and he comes to realize that what society says about you means little when compared to how you feel about yourself -- and of course we see it every day when many famous people on the outside are very miserable inside of themselves.
The professor does take some comfort that he lived his life the right way and dedicated himself to something noble -- but like Mr. Holland's Opus sans Hollywood ending -- you dedicate yourself to students and science and family -- but in the end you get old -- you lose your strength and the pleasures of life evaporate -- and you are on your own as you continue to wither and eventually die.
Gee, that's a pleasant thought!
Maybe surrounded by so much dreariness I couldn't help myself and I must confess that I fell in love with Katya.
Katya. She wanted to be an actress and has come to the realization that she has no talent. But she is desperately trying to find some meaning -- some joy to give her a reason to keep going. She is not shallow -- doesn't care what impression she makes on society -- she's beyond all the show and is looking for real truth.
Professor Nikolay Stepanovitch knows the truth and it ain't pretty.
Monday, April 25, 2011
THE GRASSHOPPER
The Grasshopper
If someone were to ask me: Who is Chekhov? And why should I bother to read him? I would answer: Read The Grasshopper and you will understand Chekhov.
Such a relevant tale for our own celebrity obsessed culture. Okay, so we are not the only celebrity obsessed culture that has ever existed. Seems like the same follies that prevail today have been around for a very long time. Hail Caesar!
Celebrities get so much of our attention while so many hard working decent people who every day toil for the betterment of humanity go unrecognized.
Yes, this is a moral tale. And Chekhov makes us feel the injustice done to Dymov -- by society and his wife.
His wife Olga Ivanovna. What can you say about her? Let's be nice.
She wants to be an artist. She wants to be a genius. She wants to escape from the ordinary -- from the crude existence that is every day life and she wants to create a splendid world -- an exciting world -- of music -- drama -- art. She is young and beautiful and passionate and she wants to experience everything. Can you really blame her for not appreciating her husband until it's too late? Can you?
One has to make a moral choice. The story makes us hate Olga Ivanovna -- makes us feel she is incredibly selfish ( Go back home and get my pink dress, darling-- leave the caviar behind ) -- vain -- and naive. So hating her is easy.
But it seems to me that Olga Ivanovna rules the day. One only has to see televison -- read magazines -- newspapers -- Youtube -- Twitter -- Facebook -- you name it and what dominates all these mediums are celebrities. Why? Mostly I would guess is that people want to escape the harsh realities of every day life -- they want to be entertained -- they want to fantasize about what it would be like to be young -- talented -- rich -- beautiful -- gifted -- famous -- and people in one way or another are searching for those qualities in themselves and it's easy to be seduced by celebrities -- they are put out there as beacons -- as idols for us to adore.
They are our modern Gods -- we make our sacrifices to them -- worship at their altar and somehow hope something magical of them comes into us. So, why take it out on Olga Ivanovna -- when we all in one way or another stand with her.
And sure we all feel for Dymova. But no reality show will be made about him and if they do -- will it get the ratings that the Kardashians get? Will he fill up stadiums to hear him speak like Charlie Sheen does?
So what is this story trying to tell us? Appreciate the school teachers, the firefighters -- the police officers -- the doctors and nurses -- or any of the countless others out there fighting the good fight without the glare of fame -- fine let's do that without question. But will we? I wonder what Chekhov would answer.
On second thought -- he already has.
And yes it gets tiring to moralize. And only a great artist like Chekhov can get away with it. So I will stop.
Just want to note a sentence from the story that is an absolute gem.
"And the more incomprehensible he talked, the more readily Olga Ivanovna understood him."
Just says it all, doesn't it?
One pure sentence like that and my literary career would be complete.
You see, I'm just like Olga Ivanovna.
This blog is like Olga Ivanovna.
Now, where is my pink dress . . .
If someone were to ask me: Who is Chekhov? And why should I bother to read him? I would answer: Read The Grasshopper and you will understand Chekhov.
Such a relevant tale for our own celebrity obsessed culture. Okay, so we are not the only celebrity obsessed culture that has ever existed. Seems like the same follies that prevail today have been around for a very long time. Hail Caesar!
Celebrities get so much of our attention while so many hard working decent people who every day toil for the betterment of humanity go unrecognized.
Yes, this is a moral tale. And Chekhov makes us feel the injustice done to Dymov -- by society and his wife.
His wife Olga Ivanovna. What can you say about her? Let's be nice.
She wants to be an artist. She wants to be a genius. She wants to escape from the ordinary -- from the crude existence that is every day life and she wants to create a splendid world -- an exciting world -- of music -- drama -- art. She is young and beautiful and passionate and she wants to experience everything. Can you really blame her for not appreciating her husband until it's too late? Can you?
One has to make a moral choice. The story makes us hate Olga Ivanovna -- makes us feel she is incredibly selfish ( Go back home and get my pink dress, darling-- leave the caviar behind ) -- vain -- and naive. So hating her is easy.
But it seems to me that Olga Ivanovna rules the day. One only has to see televison -- read magazines -- newspapers -- Youtube -- Twitter -- Facebook -- you name it and what dominates all these mediums are celebrities. Why? Mostly I would guess is that people want to escape the harsh realities of every day life -- they want to be entertained -- they want to fantasize about what it would be like to be young -- talented -- rich -- beautiful -- gifted -- famous -- and people in one way or another are searching for those qualities in themselves and it's easy to be seduced by celebrities -- they are put out there as beacons -- as idols for us to adore.
They are our modern Gods -- we make our sacrifices to them -- worship at their altar and somehow hope something magical of them comes into us. So, why take it out on Olga Ivanovna -- when we all in one way or another stand with her.
And sure we all feel for Dymova. But no reality show will be made about him and if they do -- will it get the ratings that the Kardashians get? Will he fill up stadiums to hear him speak like Charlie Sheen does?
So what is this story trying to tell us? Appreciate the school teachers, the firefighters -- the police officers -- the doctors and nurses -- or any of the countless others out there fighting the good fight without the glare of fame -- fine let's do that without question. But will we? I wonder what Chekhov would answer.
On second thought -- he already has.
And yes it gets tiring to moralize. And only a great artist like Chekhov can get away with it. So I will stop.
Just want to note a sentence from the story that is an absolute gem.
"And the more incomprehensible he talked, the more readily Olga Ivanovna understood him."
Just says it all, doesn't it?
One pure sentence like that and my literary career would be complete.
You see, I'm just like Olga Ivanovna.
This blog is like Olga Ivanovna.
Now, where is my pink dress . . .
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)