Short Fiction by Anton Chekhov (libby ebook reader .txt) π
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Anton Chekhov is widely considered to be one of the greatest short story writers in history. A physician by day, heβs famously quoted as saying, βMedicine is my lawful wife, and literature is my mistress.β Chekhov wrote nearly 300 short stories in his long writing career; while at first he wrote mainly to make a profit, as his interest in writingβand his skillβgrew, he wrote stories that heavily influenced the modern development of the form.
His stories are famous for, among other things, their ambiguous morality and their often inconclusive nature. Chekhov was a firm believer that the role of the artist was to correctly pose a question, but not necessarily to answer it.
This collection contains all of his short stories and two novellas, all translated by Constance Garnett, and arranged by the date they were originally published.
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- Author: Anton Chekhov
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At last Nina Ivanovna appeared with a tear-stained face, carrying a glass of mineral water. She was interested in spiritualism and homeopathy, read a great deal, was fond of talking of the doubts to which she was subject, and to Nadya it seemed as though there were a deep mysterious significance in all that.
Now Nadya kissed her mother and walked beside her.
βWhat have you been crying about, mother?β she asked.
βLast night I was reading a story in which there is an old man and his daughter. The old man is in some office and his chief falls in love with his daughter. I have not finished it, but there was a passage which made it hard to keep from tears,β said Nina Ivanovna and she sipped at her glass. βI thought of it this morning and shed tears again.β
βI have been so depressed all these days,β said Nadya after a pause. βWhy is it I donβt sleep at night!β
βI donβt know, dear. When I canβt sleep I shut my eyes very tightly, like this, and picture to myself Anna Karenin moving about and talking, or something historical from the ancient world.β ββ β¦β
Nadya felt that her mother did not understand her and was incapable of understanding. She felt this for the first time in her life, and it positively frightened her and made her want to hide herself; and she went away to her own room.
At two oβclock they sat down to dinner. It was Wednesday, a fast day, and so vegetable soup and bream with boiled grain were set before Granny.
To tease Granny Sasha ate his meat soup as well as the vegetable soup. He was making jokes all through dinnertime, but his jests were laboured and invariably with a moral bearing, and the effect was not at all amusing when before making some witty remark he raised his very long, thin, deathly-looking fingers; and when one remembered that he was very ill and would probably not be much longer in this world, one felt sorry for him and ready to weep.
After dinner Granny went off to her own room to lie down. Nina Ivanovna played on the piano for a little, and then she too went away.
βOh, dear Nadya!β Sasha began his usual afternoon conversation, βif only you would listen to me! If only you would!β
She was sitting far back in an old-fashioned armchair, with her eyes shut, while he paced slowly about the room from corner to corner.
βIf only you would go to the university,β he said. βOnly enlightened and holy people are interesting, itβs only they who are wanted. The more of such people there are, the sooner the Kingdom of God will come on earth. Of your town then not one stone will be left, everything will he blown up from the foundations, everything will be changed as though by magic. And then there will be immense, magnificent houses here, wonderful gardens, marvellous fountains, remarkable people.β ββ β¦ But thatβs not what matters most. What matters most is that the crowd, in our sense of the word, in the sense in which it exists nowβ βthat evil will not exist then, because every man will believe and every man will know what he is living for and no one will seek moral support in the crowd. Dear Nadya, darling girl, go away! Show them all that you are sick of this stagnant, grey, sinful life. Prove it to yourself at least!β
βI canβt, Sasha, Iβm going to be married.β
βOh nonsense! Whatβs it for!β
They went out into the garden and walked up and down a little.
βAnd however that may be, my dear girl, you must think, you must realize how unclean, how immoral this idle life of yours is,β Sasha went on. βDo understand that if, for instance, you and your mother and your grandmother do nothing, it means that someone else is working for you, you are eating up someone elseβs life, and is that clean, isnβt it filthy?β
Nadya wanted to say βYes, that is trueβ; she wanted to say that she understood, but tears came into her eyes, her spirits drooped, and shrinking into herself she went off to her room.
Towards evening Andrey Andreitch arrived and as usual played the fiddle for a long time. He was not given to much talk as a rule, and was fond of the fiddle, perhaps because one could be silent while playing. At eleven oβclock when he was about to go home and had put on his greatcoat, he embraced Nadya and began greedily kissing her face, her shoulders, and her hands.
βMy dear, my sweet, my charmer,β he muttered. βOh how happy I am! I am beside myself with rapture!β
And it seemed to her as though she had heard that long, long ago, or had read it somewhereβ ββ β¦ in some old tattered novel thrown away long ago. In the dining room Sasha was sitting at the table drinking tea with the saucer poised on his five long fingers; Granny was laying out patience; Nina Ivanovna was reading. The flame crackled in the icon lamp and everything, it seemed, was quiet and going well. Nadya said good night, went upstairs to her room, got into bed and fell asleep at once. But just as on the night before, almost before it was light, she woke up. She was not sleepy, there was an uneasy, oppressive feeling in her heart. She sat up with her head on her knees and thought of her fiancΓ© and her marriage.β ββ β¦ She for some reason remembered that her mother had not loved her father and now had nothing and lived in complete dependence on her mother-in-law, Granny. And however much Nadya pondered she could not imagine why she had hitherto seen in her mother something special and exceptional, how it was she had not noticed that she was a simple, ordinary, unhappy woman.
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