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In "Plays by Anton Chekhov, Second Series," Chekhov presents a compilation of his most renowned theatrical works, including "Three Sisters" and "The Cherry Orchard." Marked by his distinctive blend of realism and subtle humor, these plays explore the psychological complexities of human relationships and the societal constraints of early 20th-century Russia. Chekhov's literary style is characterized by its economy of language, poignant characterization, and a profound attention to the nuances of everyday life. Thematically rich, his works examine the interplay between hope and despair, revealing the existential dilemmas faced by his characters in an evolving world. Anton Pavlovich Chekhov, often regarded as one of the greatest playwrights, was instrumental in the transition to modern drama. His medical background and observations of human behavior deeply informed his writing, allowing him to depict intricate emotional landscapes with remarkable authenticity. Largely influenced by his experiences in a rapidly changing Russia, Chekhov's works reflect a world in flux, capturing the essence of a society grappling with its identity and future. This collection is essential for readers seeking insight into the human condition through the lens of one of literature's foremost practitioners. Chekhov's insightful portrayal of life's tragicomedy invites audiences to reflect on their own circumstances, making these plays not just performances to witness but experiences to contemplate. In this enriched edition, we have carefully created added value for your reading experience: - A comprehensive Introduction outlines these selected works' unifying features, themes, or stylistic evolutions. - The Author Biography highlights personal milestones and literary influences that shape the entire body of writing. - A Historical Context section situates the works in their broader era—social currents, cultural trends, and key events that underpin their creation. - A concise Synopsis (Selection) offers an accessible overview of the included texts, helping readers navigate plotlines and main ideas without revealing critical twists. - A unified Analysis examines recurring motifs and stylistic hallmarks across the collection, tying the stories together while spotlighting the different work's strengths. - Reflection questions inspire deeper contemplation of the author's overarching message, inviting readers to draw connections among different texts and relate them to modern contexts. - Lastly, our hand‐picked Memorable Quotes distill pivotal lines and turning points, serving as touchstones for the collection's central themes.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019
Anton Pavlovich Chekhov stands as a towering figure in the landscape of world literature, and this collection, 'Plays by Anton Chekhov, Second Series,' seeks to encapsulate his profound contributions to the theatrical arts. This compilation is designed not merely as a literature anthology but as a focused representation of Chekhov's mastery in playwriting. It aims to illuminate the breadth of his theatrical oeuvre, allowing readers to engage with the full spectrum of his dramatic artistry. By presenting these selected works, we invite audiences to savor the intricate ways in which Chekhov explores human nature and societal norms through the medium of drama.
This collection includes a rich array of genres, showcasing Chekhov's ability to navigate the complexities of human experience through the lens of theater. The works herein primarily consist of plays, with notable highlights being 'On the High Road,' 'The Proposal,' 'The Bear,' 'The Three Sisters,' and 'The Cherry Orchard.' While Chekhov is famed for his short stories and narratives, this particular volume dedicates itself to spotlighting his contributions to dramatic literature, presenting a coherent exploration of the themes that permeate his theatrical works.
Unifying these plays is Chekhov's distinctive thematic focus on the intricacies of human relationships, the subtleties of social interaction, and the poignant realities of everyday life. His characters are often caught in a web of unfulfilled desires and existential discontent, yet they shine with a depth that resonates across time and culture. Chekhov's hallmark brevity, combined with acute character studies and intricate dialogue, allows each piece to unfold layers of meaning, provoking thought and eliciting empathy. This collection stands as a testament to his ability to weave humor and tragedy together seamlessly, reflecting the complexities of the human condition.
The narrative structure of Chekhov's plays often deviates from traditional arcs, embracing a more episodic style that mirrors the random and unanticipated nature of life itself. This departure from conventional storytelling has informed not only his contemporaries but also future generations of playwrights. Each play examines various facets of existence, inviting the audience to engage in self-reflection as they traverse the emotional landscapes Chekhov so vividly depicts. By doing so, Chekhov holds a mirror to society, inciting discussions that extend beyond the theater walls.
Within the selected pieces, readers will encounter a spectrum of human emotions, from joy and humor to melancholy and despair. In plays like 'The Proposal' and 'The Bear,' Chekhov showcases his adeptness at presenting comedic situations laced with deeper reflections on love, marriage, and personal aspiration. Conversely, in 'The Three Sisters' and 'The Cherry Orchard,' he delves into more somber themes, exploring the inexorable passage of time and the poignant nature of longing. These thematic contrasts underscore Chekhov's multifaceted approach to storytelling.
Moreover, Chekhov’s use of subtext remains a cornerstone of his dramatic technique. The nuances between what is spoken and what is left unsaid create a rich tapestry of engagement for the audience. This characteristic allows for a deeper examination of the motivations and insecurities of his characters, inviting introspection among spectators who find resonance with their own lives. The silences, the pauses, and the seemingly mundane exchanges create a profound emotional weight that enchants and captivates.
The characters that populate Chekhov’s plays are vividly drawn, often representing archetypes influenced by the complexities of 19th-century Russian society. Their struggles, aspirations, and failures immortalize the universal dilemmas of self-identity, family dynamics, and the search for meaning. Each character's journey unfolds with a sense of authenticity, making them relatable to audiences across different contexts and eras. This ability to create timeless protagonists ensures that Chekhov's works remain relevant today's readers and theatergoers.
Additionally, Chekhov’s exploration of the socio-political landscape of his time is vividly present in his works. Affluent landowners, struggling peasants, and members of the intelligentsia collide within his narratives, painting a detailed picture of a transcending societal change in Russia. The way he navigates class conflicts and personal dilemmas creates a tapestry of tension that invites discussion about privilege, power, and morality that resonates even in today's society.
This collection allows for a multifaceted exploration of Chekhov’s theatrical intentions, showcasing how humor and despair often coexist within the same moment. His plays exemplify the concept of tragicomedy, wherein the absurdity of life contrasts with genuine struggles. Chekhov showcases the important lesson that laughter often coexists with sorrow, providing a holistic reflection of human experience. Readers may find solace and understanding in this interplay, as resolutions remain elusive and the comedic elements illuminate the darker realities.
The meticulous nature of Chekhov's dialogue exemplifies his literary mastery. Every word feels deliberate, and every exchange is laden with meaning. This intricate craftsmanship is a hallmark of Chekhov’s plays, where conversations often reveal far more than the surface subject matter. His ability to infuse everyday language with philosophical depth encourages readers to appreciate the beauty found in the mundane, prompting them to engage deeply with the characters' lives.
Furthermore, Chekhov's influence extends beyond the realm of theater; his plays have significantly shaped modern literary criticism and performance methodologies. The integration of a psychological dimension in character development and the importance of space, silence, and timing in performance have redefined theatrical expression. As such, Chekhov's works have become a cornerstone of educational curricula within drama and literature, attesting to their lasting impact on the art of storytelling.
Each selected work exemplifies Chekhov’s unique understanding of human relationships and the underlying currents that govern them. Readers will notice a common thread that reflects his perspective on love: often elusive, elusive, and fraught with misunderstandings. This recurring theme portrays love as a double-edged sword, capable of bestowing both profound joy and intense sorrow, thus echoing the sentiments of various relationships reflected in life itself.
As 'The Cherry Orchard' poignantly shows, the passage of time brings change, often accompanied by loss and nostalgia. Characters in Chekhov's plays grapple with the realization of fleeting moments, conveying the inherent tension of holding on versus letting go. By engaging with such themes, readers are pushed to confront their notions of existence and the inevitability of change, enriching their understanding of personal and collective histories.
In Chekhov's hands, the domestic space transcends its physical confines, representing a microcosm of society where personal ambitions intersect with communal legacy. The use of setting not merely as background but as an active participant in the drama enriches the narrative layers. Whether it’s a gastronomic quarrel intertwined with burgeoning romance or the echoes of lifetimes spent within the embrace of a cherry orchard, Chekhov’s environments magnify emotional truths.
Ultimately, 'Plays by Anton Chekhov, Second Series' serves not only as a compilation of timeless literary works but also as a path for contemporary readers and theater enthusiasts seeking to explore the depths of Chekhovian thought. The careful selection of these plays ensures that each piece contributes to a broader understanding of Chekhov's artistic mission, where emotional honesty and social commentary reign supreme. Chekhov invites us to observe compassionately, compelling us to reflect on our shared humanity.
In navigating the themes of love, identity, and the human experience, Chekhov’s artistry remains unparalleled. His works challenge us to peel back layers of superficial interaction, seeking a deeper understanding of both personal and collective motivations. As an audience, we are drawn into the intimate world he crafts, and we emerge with insights that resonate long after the final curtain falls. The richness of his characters and ideas continues to inspire and challenge our perceptions of what theater can encompass.
Thus, it is with great anticipation that we invite you to delve into this comprehensive collection. Each play is accompanied by a unique voice, a rich narrative crafted with care, reflecting the intricate tapestry of human emotions. We encourage readers to explore all sections of this collection, reflecting not only on Chekhov's genius but also on their own experiences as they traverse the realms of love, loss, and resolution found within these remarkable works.
Anton Pavlovich Chekhov (1860–1904) was a Russian physician and writer whose short stories and plays reshaped modern literature. Celebrated for economy of language, psychological nuance, and understated drama, he transformed the short story into an exacting art of implication and subtext, and reinvented the stage with works that privilege mood and ensemble over plot. His most renowned plays—The Seagull, Uncle Vanya, Three Sisters, and The Cherry Orchard—along with landmark stories such as The Steppe and The Lady with the Dog, secured his international stature. Balancing medical practice with literary innovation, Chekhov’s humane, unsentimental gaze continues to guide writers, directors, and readers worldwide.
Chekhov grew up in the southern port city of Taganrog and received a traditional gymnasium education emphasizing languages and classical texts. In the late 1870s he moved to Moscow and entered medical studies at Moscow University, completing training while supporting himself and his family through freelance writing. Medicine and literature developed in tandem: clinical observation honed his attention to detail, while exposure to urban poverty and illness sharpened his social awareness. Working in hospitals and visiting patients informed his disciplined prose, concise diagnostics of character, and a preference for verifiable, observable reality over rhetorical flourish.
His literary formation was shaped by wide reading in Russian and European traditions. He admired Ivan Turgenev’s tonal subtlety and humane realism, drew on Nikolai Gogol’s blend of the comic and the grotesque, and learned from Alexander Pushkin’s structural clarity. Guy de Maupassant’s brevity and twist-reliant story form influenced Chekhov early, though Chekhov moved beyond neat endings toward open, resonant conclusions. Engagements with Leo Tolstoy’s moral seriousness and debates about art’s purpose sharpened his skepticism of dogma. Above all, his scientific training encouraged restraint, impartial description, and trust in implication—principles that became hallmarks of his style.
Chekhov’s career began in the early 1880s with comic sketches and vignettes for popular journals, often under the pseudonym “Antosha Chekhonte.” These brief pieces taught him compression and timing, but their humor increasingly served more serious ends: exposing petty cruelties, bureaucratic absurdities, and the quiet heroism of ordinary lives. As he gained confidence, he pared away ornament, favored plain diction, and let character behavior carry meaning. Even in early work, he resisted melodramatic closure, preferring unresolved situations that felt true to experience. Editors valued his reliability and versatility, while readers recognized a distinctive, unsentimental sympathy.
By the late 1880s and 1890s, Chekhov emerged as a master of the short story. The Steppe showed his capacity for lyrical landscape married to psychological movement; Ward No. 6 and The Black Monk probed mental suffering and institutional indifference; A Boring Story examined aging and professional disillusion; and The Lady with the Dog presented a restrained, indelible portrait of love and conscience. Critics increasingly praised his precision and moral tact. Rather than instruct, he illuminated. His narratives abandoned contrivance, allowing life’s contingencies to surface in gesture and silence. Translations soon circulated, expanding his readership beyond Russia.
Chekhov’s dramatic revolution began with The Seagull in the mid-1890s. Its initial failure soon yielded to triumph when the Moscow Art Theatre staged it in the late 1890s, emphasizing ensemble play, subtext, and the musicality of pauses. Uncle Vanya reworked earlier material into a tragicomedy of thwarted purpose; Three Sisters charted yearning against provincial inertia; The Cherry Orchard balanced elegy with comic cadence as Russia’s social landscape shifted. His dramaturgy minimized conventional plot mechanics, inviting audiences to listen for inner life beneath everyday talk. The result reshaped acting and directing practices, influencing stagecraft across Europe and beyond.
In 1890 Chekhov undertook a demanding journey to Sakhalin Island, a penal colony in Russia’s Far East. He conducted interviews and gathered demographic data, producing a pioneering work of investigative reportage later published as The Sakhalin Island. The project combined medical empiricism with literary insight, documenting harsh conditions, administrative failures, and the resilience of prisoners and settlers. It demonstrated Chekhov’s commitment to verifiable fact and compassionate scrutiny, extending his art beyond fiction and drama. The book deepened his authority as a public intellectual who could link narrative skill to ethical inquiry without resorting to agitation or abstraction.
As his reputation grew, Chekhov balanced privacy with public acclaim. He contributed to leading journals, saw his stories widely anthologized, and watched his plays enter repertoires of major theatres. Directors and actors found in his scripts a new realism: subtext, scenic detail, and ensemble dynamics fostered performances that seemed lived rather than staged. Some contemporaries initially found his restraint puzzling, yet many critics recognized its radical honesty. By the turn of the century, he stood as a central literary figure, his name associated with artistic integrity, technical innovation, and a humane vision that resisted easy consolation.
Chekhov’s core beliefs were grounded in skepticism toward dogma, respect for individual dignity, and a preference for quiet reform over polemic. He prized artistic objectivity, insisting that the writer’s task was to pose questions accurately rather than prescribe solutions. His medical practice reinforced a secular ethic of care: evidence before ideology, patient particulars before abstract systems. He famously described medicine as his “lawful wife” and literature as his “mistress,” a metaphor capturing his dual commitments. Across genres, he portrayed hypocrisy, inertia, and cruelty without sermonizing, trusting readers and audiences to draw their own moral inferences.
In public life, Chekhov supported concrete, measurable improvements. At his country estate he provided medical care to local residents, helped with school and library initiatives, and assisted during famine and cholera crises in the early 1890s. The Sakhalin project sought to inform prison and administrative reform by supplying reliable data and testimony. He opposed censorship’s distortions and valued freedom of conscience, yet avoided programmatic declarations. These commitments are mirrored in his characters: teachers, doctors, clerks, and landowners confronting responsibility and failure. His advocacy thus operated through example and witness, merging professional duty with literary conscience.
Tuberculosis shadowed Chekhov’s adult life and worsened in the late 1890s. Seeking a milder climate, he spent long periods in the south while continuing to write stories and complete his late plays. Collaboration with the Moscow Art Theatre deepened, culminating in landmark productions, including The Cherry Orchard in 1904. Despite declining health, he maintained correspondence with friends and artists, refined manuscripts, and supervised staging details when possible. He died in 1904 in Badenweiler, Germany. News of his death prompted widespread mourning in Russia’s artistic circles, acknowledging a life that fused professional care with artistic revolution.
Chekhov’s legacy is vast. In drama, his emphasis on subtext, ensemble, and everyday rhythm influenced modern directing and acting, notably the development of systems that stress inner action. In prose, his open endings, tonal restraint, and humane irony shaped the modern short story. Writers such as Katherine Mansfield, Raymond Carver, and Alice Munro have cited or reflect his example; playwrights including Tennessee Williams and Harold Pinter adapted his quiet tensions to new contexts. Beyond specific techniques, Chekhov modeled intellectual honesty: observe closely, judge sparingly, and let life speak. His works remain central to world literature and theatre.
Anton Pavlovich Chekhov (1860–1904) emerged as one of Russia’s most significant playwrights and short‐story writers during a period of profound political and social change. The decline of the Romanov autocracy, debates over land reform and growing calls for social justice shaped literary Realism in Russia, encouraging writers to explore the lives of ordinary people and the contradictions of provincial society. These influences informed Chekhov’s distinctive approach to character and narrative, which emphasized subtlety and psychological insight over melodrama.
Chekhov’s upbringing in Taganrog, a port on the Sea of Azov, exposed him to a range of social environments—from the town’s merchants to its working poor. This diverse setting honed his observational skills, later evident in his precise portrayals of character. After qualifying as a physician in 1884, he practiced medicine alongside his literary career, drawing on his clinical experience to depict human behavior with empathy and realism. During the 1880s he also wrote a series of short, one‐act comedies—among them The Bear and The Proposal—that display his early mastery of irony and everyday conflicts.
The aftermath of the Emancipation Reform of 1861 features prominently in the social fabric of his work. Although serfdom had been abolished decades earlier, many former peasants and landowners continued to struggle with economic hardship and social displacement. His four major plays—The Seagull, Uncle Vanya, Three Sisters and The Cherry Orchard—examine the aspirations and frustrations of both the gentry and those they once governed, offering a nuanced picture of a society in transition.
In the 1890s Chekhov helped usher in a new dramatic style characterized by understatement, open‐ended structure and the use of subtext. Rejecting sensational plot devices, he crafted situations in which unstated feelings and shifting relationships carried the emotional weight. The initial staging of The Seagull in 1896 met with mixed reviews, but its 1898 revival by the Moscow Art Theatre under Konstantin Stanislavski signaled a turning point. This collaboration solidified a production ethos centered on psychological depth and naturalistic performance, influencing generations of actors and directors.
The changing status of women in Russian society finds reflection in Chekhov’s female characters, who often exhibit intelligence, dissatisfaction and a quiet longing for self-determination. Figures such as Masha, Olga and Irina in Three Sisters, or Lyubov in The Cherry Orchard, are drawn with complexity rather than stereotype, suggesting an awareness of contemporary debates about education and social roles.
As the 19th century gave way to the 20th, tensions between tradition and modernity intensified. Fallen fortunes, shifting class boundaries and the rise of professional classes permeate his work. In The Cherry Orchard, the sale of an ancestral estate becomes a potent symbol of irreversible social change and the characters’ struggle with nostalgia and necessity resonates with audiences facing similar upheavals.
Chekhov died in 1904, on the eve of the Revolution of 1905, yet his plays capture the anxieties and hopes of a society on the brink of transformation. Themes of loss, aspiration and the search for meaning in everyday life recur across his drama, giving his work a timeless quality.
His early one‐act pieces demonstrate how dramatic tension can arise from mundane disputes: The Bear and The Proposal turn simple premises into sharp comedies of manners, relying on witty dialogue and surprise turns of mood. More expansive works like Three Sisters and The Cherry Orchard explore the distance between speech and true emotion, employing pauses and interruptions to convey unspoken yearnings.
Chekhov’s influence extends beyond his own era. By privileging character interaction over plot contrivance and introducing a layered use of subtext, he laid groundwork for modern theatre. Playwrights and practitioners in Russia and abroad have drawn on his methods to explore interior life onstage. Critical scholarship has likewise attended to his blend of realism and poetic suggestion, ensuring that his plays continue to be studied and reinterpreted.
His drama remains vital for its acute depiction of human relationships amid social flux. The ability to reflect broader historical currents in intimate terms secures his place in the canon of modern drama, offering audiences and readers enduring insight into the complexities of the human condition.
This introductory piece sets the stage for Chekhov's exploration of human behavior and societal norms, offering insights into his thematic interests and stylistic approach.
A poignant one-act play that follows a group of travelers on a road trip, revealing their diverse personalities and the tensions that arise in their interactions.
A comedic one-act play centered on a bumbling suitor's attempt to propose to a landowner's daughter, highlighting the absurdities of love and societal expectations.
This one-act farce details the unexpected romantic entanglement between a grieving widow and a visiting creditor, showcasing Chekhov's flair for humor and irony.
A full-length play that examines the lives and struggles of three sisters as they aspire for a more fulfilling life in a provincial town, emphasizing themes of longing, disillusionment, and the passage of time.
In this act of 'The Three Sisters', the emotional complexities of the sisters deepen as their plans for the future clash with their current realities, revealing the intricacies of family dynamics.
The final act of 'The Three Sisters' explores the culmination of the sisters' dreams and disappointments, leading to a poignant reflection on their choices and the passage of time.
Chekhov's last play, it tells the story of an aristocratic family faced with the loss of their estate and its cherished cherry orchard, symbolizing the end of an era and the changes of social structure.
Part of 'The Cherry Orchard', this act delves into the family's emotional conflicts and the challenges of adapting to a changing world, highlighting themes of nostalgia and the inevitability of progress.
The last few years have seen a large and generally unsystematic mass of translations from the Russian flung at the heads and hearts of English readers. The ready acceptance of Chekhov has been one of the few successful features of this irresponsible output. He has been welcomed by British critics with something like affection. Bernard Shaw has several times remarked: “Every time I see a play by Chekhov, I want to chuck all my own stuff into the fire.” Others, having no such valuable property to sacrifice on the altar of Chekhov, have not hesitated to place him side by side with Ibsen, and the other established institutions of the new theatre. For these reasons it is pleasant to be able to chronicle the fact that, by way of contrast with the casual treatment normally handed out to Russian authors, the publishers are issuing the complete dramatic works of this author. In 1912 they brought out a volume containing four Chekhov plays, translated by Marian Fell. All the dramatic works not included in her volume are to be found in the present one. With the exception of Chekhov’s masterpiece, “The Cherry Orchard” (translated by the late Mr. George Calderon in 1912), none of these plays have been previously published in book form in England or America.
It is not the business of a translator to attempt to outdo all others in singing the praises of his raw material. This is a dangerous process and may well lead, as it led Mr. Calderon, to drawing the reader’s attention to points of beauty not to be found in the original. A few bibliographical details are equally necessary, and permissible, and the elementary principles of Chekhov criticism will also be found useful.
The very existence of “The High Road” (1884); probably the earliest of its author’s plays, will be unsuspected by English readers. During Chekhov’s lifetime it a sort of family legend, after his death it became a family mystery. A copy was finally discovered only last year in the Censor’s office, yielded up, and published. It had been sent in 1885 under the nom-de-plume “A. Chekhonte,” and it had failed to pass. The Censor, of the time being had scrawled his opinion on the manuscript, “a depressing and dirty piece,—cannot be licensed.” The name of the gentleman who held this view—Kaiser von Kugelgen—gives another reason for the educated Russian’s low opinion of German-sounding institutions. Baron von Tuzenbach, the satisfactory person in “The Three Sisters,” it will be noted, finds it as well, while he is trying to secure the favours of Irina, to declare that his German ancestry is fairly remote. This is by way of parenthesis. “The High Road,” found after thirty years, is a most interesting document to the lover of Chekhov. Every play he wrote in later years was either a one-act farce or a four-act drama. [Note: “The Swan Song” may occur as an exception. This, however, is more of a Shakespeare recitation than anything else, and so neither here nor there.]
In “The High Road” we see, in an embryonic form, the whole later method of the plays—the deliberate contrast between two strong characters (Bortsov and Merik in this case), the careful individualization of each person in a fairly large group by way of an introduction to the main theme, the concealment of the catastrophe, germ-wise, in the actual character of the characters, and the of a distinctive group-atmosphere. It need scarcely be stated that “The High Road” is not a “dirty” piece according to Russian or to German standards; Chekhov was incapable of writing a dirty play or story. For the rest, this piece differs from the others in its presentation, not of Chekhov’s favourite middle-classes, but of the moujik, nourishing, in a particularly stuffy atmosphere, an intense mysticism and an equally intense thirst for vodka.
“The Proposal” (1889) and “The Bear” (1890) may be taken as good examples of the sort of humour admired by the average Russian. The latter play, in another translation, was put on as a curtain-raiser to a cinematograph entertainment at a London theatre in 1914; and had quite a pleasant reception from a thoroughly Philistine audience. The humour is very nearly of the variety most popular over here, the psychology is a shade subtler. The Russian novelist or dramatist takes to psychology as some of his fellow-countrymen take to drink; in doing this he achieves fame by showing us what we already know, and at the same time he kills his own creative power. Chekhov just escaped the tragedy of suicide by introspection, and was only enabled to do this by the possession of a sense of humour. That is why we should not regard “The Bear,” “The Wedding,” or “The Anniversary” as the work of a merely humorous young man, but as the saving graces which made perfect “The Cherry Orchard.”
“The Three Sisters” (1901) is said to act better than any other of Chekhov’s plays, and should surprise an English audience exceedingly. It and “The Cherry Orchard” are the tragedies of doing nothing. The three sisters have only one desire in the world, to go to Moscow and live there. There is no reason on earth, economic, sentimental, or other, why they should not pack their bags and take the next train to Moscow. But they will not do it. They cannot do it. And we know perfectly well that if they were transplanted thither miraculously, they would be extremely unhappy as soon as ever the excitement of the miracle had worn off. In the other play Mme. Ranevsky can be saved from ruin if she will only consent to a perfectly simple step—the sale of an estate. She cannot do this, is ruined, and thrown out into the unsympathetic world. Chekhov is the dramatist, not of action, but of inaction. The tragedy of inaction is as overwhelming, when we understand it, as the tragedy of an Othello, or a Lear, crushed by the wickedness of others. The former is being enacted daily, but we do not stage it, we do not know how. But who shall deny that the base of almost all human unhappiness is just this inaction,[1q] manifesting itself in slovenliness of thought and execution, education, and ideal?
The Russian, painfully conscious of his own weakness, has accepted this point of view, and regards “The Cherry Orchard” as its master-study in dramatic form. They speak of the palpitating hush which fell upon the audience of the Moscow Art Theatre after the first fall of the curtain at the first performance—a hush so intense as to make Chekhov’s friends undergo the initial emotions of assisting at a vast theatrical failure. But the silence ryes almost a sob, to be followed, when overcome, by an epic applause. And, a few months later, Chekhov died.
This volume and that of Marian Fell—with which it is uniform—contain all the dramatic works of Chekhov. It considered not worth while to translate a few fragments published posthumously, or a monologue “On the Evils of Tobacco”—a half humorous lecture by “the husband of his wife;” which begins “Ladies, and in some respects, gentlemen,” as this is hardly dramatic work. There is also a very short skit on the efficiency of provincial fire brigades, which was obviously not intended for the stage and has therefore been omitted.
Lastly, the scheme of transliteration employed has been that, generally speaking, recommended by the Liverpool School of Russian Studies. This is distinctly the best of those in the field, but as it would compel one, e.g., to write a popular female name, “Marya,” I have not treated it absolute respect. For the sake of uniformity with Fell’s volume, the author’s name is spelt Tchekoff on the title-page and cover.
J. W.
RUSSIAN WEIGHTS AND MEASURES AND MONEY EMPLOYED IN THE PLAYS, WITH ENGLISH EQUIVALENTS
The action takes place in one of the provinces of Southern Russia
[The scene is laid in TIHON’S bar. On the right is the bar-counter and shelves with bottles. At the back is a door leading out of the house. Over it, on the outside, hangs a dirty red lantern. The floor and the forms, which stand against the wall, are closely occupied by pilgrims and passers-by. Many of them, for lack of space, are sleeping as they sit. It is late at night. As the curtain rises thunder is heard, and lightning is seen through the door.]
[TIHON is behind the counter. FEDYA is half-lying in a heap on one of the forms, and is quietly playing on a concertina. Next to him is BORTSOV, wearing a shabby summer overcoat. SAVVA, NAZAROVNA, and EFIMOVNA are stretched out on the floor by the benches.]
EFIMOVNA. [To NAZAROVNA] Give the old man a nudge dear! Can’t get any answer out of him.
NAZAROVNA. [Lifting the corner of a cloth covering of SAVVA’S face] Are you alive or are you dead, you holy man?
SAVVA. Why should I be dead? I’m alive, mother! [Raises himself on his elbow] Cover up my feet, there’s a saint! That’s it. A bit more on the right one. That’s it, mother. God be good to us.
NAZAROVNA. [Wrapping up SAVVA’S feet] Sleep, little father.
SAVVA. What sleep can I have? If only I had the patience to endure this pain, mother; sleep’s quite another matter. A sinner doesn’t deserve to be given rest. What’s that noise, pilgrim-woman?
NAZAROVNA. God is sending a storm. The wind is wailing, and the rain is pouring down, pouring down. All down the roof and into the windows like dried peas. Do you hear? The windows of heaven are opened... [Thunder] Holy, holy, holy...
FEDYA. And it roars and thunders, and rages, sad there’s no end to it! Hoooo... it’s like the noise of a forest.... Hoooo.... The wind is wailing like a dog.... [Shrinking back] It’s cold! My clothes are wet, it’s all coming in through the open door... you might put me through a wringer.... [Plays softly] My concertina’s damp, and so there’s no music for you, my Orthodox brethren, or else I’d give you such a concert, my word!—Something marvellous! You can have a quadrille, or a polka, if you like, or some Russian dance for two.... I can do them all. In the town, where I was an attendant at the Grand Hotel, I couldn’t make any money, but I did wonders on my concertina. And, I can play the guitar.
A VOICE FROM THE CORNER. A silly speech from a silly fool.
FEDYA. I can hear another of them. [Pause.]
NAZAROVNA. [To SAVVA] If you’d only lie where it was warm now, old man, and warm your feet. [Pause.] Old man! Man of God! [Shakes SAVVA] Are you going to die?
FEDYA. You ought to drink a little vodka, grandfather. Drink, and it’ll burn, burn in your stomach, and warm up your heart. Drink, do!
NAZAROVNA. Don’t swank, young man! Perhaps the old man is giving back his soul to God, or repenting for his sins, and you talk like that, and play your concertina.... Put it down! You’ve no shame!
FEDYA. And what are you sticking to him for? He can’t do anything and you... with your old women’s talk... He can’t say a word in reply, and you’re glad, and happy because he’s listening to your nonsense.... You go on sleeping, grandfather; never mind her! Let her talk, don’t you take any notice of her. A woman’s tongue is the devil’s broom—it will sweep the good man and the clever man both out of the house. Don’t you mind.... [Waves his hands] But it’s thin you are, brother of mine! Terrible! Like a dead skeleton! No life in you! Are you really dying?
SAVVA. Why should I die? Save me, O Lord, from dying in vain.[2q]... I’ll suffer a little, and then get up with God’s help.... The Mother of God won’t let me die in a strange land.... I’ll die at home.
FEDYA. Are you from far off?
SAVVA. From Vologda. The town itself.... I live there.
FEDYA. And where is this Vologda?
TIHON. The other side of Moscow....
FEDYA. Well, well, well.... You have come a long way, old man! On foot?