Wednesday, August 14, 2019

78. Selected Stories of Anton Chekhov

I am so steeped in Chekhov this last week that I had a dream about my friends reading him and loving it. That would not be the case as I could not see a single one of my friend enjoying Chekhov, including my husband (who likes Hemingway)! 
These are selected stories. Some take a few minutes to read and others take over an hour. I appreciate his genius. The guy can write. WOW! Many of these were written in magazines so he could make some money. They are not considered his finest works. 

I don't think I would have liked to grow up in Russia! I don't think, harkening back to my reading in Proust earlier this month, that I would have liked growing up in France either! Give me American culture any day of the week. We have it stratification in society, but that does not have to be your lot forever and ever. Social strata is NOTHING like Europe had it. 

I am forming a thought about European deeply entrenched cultural things that make for emptiness when it is devoid of God. I cannot even articulate it yet. My husband gave me this quote from War and Peace when we discussed my hypothesis:

“Pfuel was one of those hopelessly and immutably self-confident men, self-confident to the point of martyrdom as only Germans are, because only Germans are self-confident on the basis of an abstract notion—science, that is, the supposed knowledge of absolute truth. A Frenchman is self-assured because he regards himself personally both in mind and body as irresistibly attractive to men and women. An Englishman is self-assured as being a citizen of the best-organized state in the world and therefore, as an Englishman, always knows what he should do and knows that all he does as an Englishman is undoubtedly correct An Italian is self-assured because he is excitable and easily forgets himself and other people. A Russian is self-assured just because he knows nothing and does not want to know anything, since he does not believe that anything can be known.”
Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace  Chapter 9, Book 10

What do you think?

These stories were a chore to get through. They were depressing, and they don't have the benefit of an integral plot to take you in. I still think Chekhov is a genius, but he is a genius without a soul. Of course he has a soul, but it is not inclined to hope in a relationship with God and LOVE between individuals. That is where he is different from Tolstoy or Dostoevsky who were people inclined and put hope in God contrasted with the tragedy of a life devoid of God.  

So, I would say skip this book of stories if you can. Also, no need to buy this book, all these short stories are on the web. The only thing is that the  translators for this edition are my favorite, having translated War and Peace and Anna Karenina to perfection. They are wonderful. 

Life is beautiful, but somehow Chekhov only sees the sad part of life in his stories. 'Tis a pity.

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