- Home
- Donald Rayfield
Anton Chekhov
Anton Chekhov Read online
ANTON CHEKHOV
A LIFE
DONALD RAYFIELD
For Alia, Galia, Maia and Tolia
One may be awestruck by Tolstoy’s mind.
Delighted by Pushkin’s elegance. Appreciate Dostoevsky’s moral quest, Gogol’s humour. And so on.
Chekhov, however, is the only man one would like to resemble.
Sergei Dovlatov, Notebooks
CONTENTS
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
List of Illustrations
Preface
Acknowledgements
Abbreviations and References
A Note on Transliteration
The Chekhov Family Tree
Maps
PART I
Father to the Man:
1860–79
1 Forefathers
2 Taganrog
3 Shop, Church and School
4 The Theatres of Life and Art
5 Disintegration
6 Destitution
7 Brothers Abandoned
8 Alone
PART II
Doctor Chekhov:
1879–86
9 Initiation
10 The Wedding Season
11 The Spectator
12 Fragmentation
13 The Death of Mosia
14 The Qualified Practitioner
15 Babkino
16 Petersburg Calls
17 Getting Engaged
18 Acclaim
PART III
My Brothers’ Keeper:
1886–9
19 The Suvorins
20 Life in a Chest of Drawers
21 Taganrog Revisited
22 Ivanov in Moscow
23 The Death of Anna
24 Travel and Travails
25 The Prize
26 The Petersburg Ivanov
27 A Death at Luka
28 Shaking the Dust
PART IV
Années de Pèlerinage:
1889–92
29 Exorcizing the Demon
30 Arming for the Crusade
31 Crossing Siberia
32 Sakhalin
33 The Flight to Europe
34 Summer at Bogimovo
35 ‘The Duel’ and The Famine
PART V
Cincinnatus:
1892–4
36 Sowing and Ploughing
37 Cholera
38 Summoned by Suvorin
39 Sickbay
40 Dachshund Summer
41 Happy Avelan
42 The Women Scatter
PART VI
Lika Disparue:
1894–6
43 Abishag cherishes David
44 Potapenko the Bounder
45 The Birth of Christina
46 O Charudatta!
47 A Misogynist’s Spring
48 Incubating The Seagull
49 The Fugitive Returns
PART VII
The Flight of the Seagull:
1896–7
50 Two Diversions in Petersburg
51 Lika Rediscovered
52 The Khodynka Spring
53 The Consecration of the School
54 Night on a Bare Mountain
55 Fiasco
56 The Death of Christina
57 Cold Comfort
58 A Little Queen in Exile
59 Cutting the Gordian Knot
PART VIII
Flowering Cemeteries:
1897–8
60 The Doctor is Sick
61 An Idle Summer
62 Promenades
63 Dreaming of Algiers
64 Chekhov Dreyfusard
65 The Birth of a Theatre
66 The Broken Cog
PART IX
Three Triumphs:
1898–1901
67 The Seagull Resurrected
68 ‘I am a Marxist’
69 Last Season in Melikhovo
70 Uncle Vania Triumphant
71 ‘In the Ravine’
72 Olga in Yalta
73 Three Sisters
74 Nice Revisited
75 The Secret Marriage
PART X
Love and Death:
1901–4
76 Honeymoon
77 When Doctors Disagree
78 Conjugal Ills
79 Liubimovka
80 ‘The Bride’
81 The Cherry Orchard
82 Last Farewells
83 Aftermath
Epilogue
Select Bibliography
Index
Plates
Copyright
ILLUSTRATIONS
1. Family portrait, end 1860s
2. 1874 family portrait
3. Taganrog in the 1870s
4. Anton, on leaving school, 15 June 1879
5. ‘The Wedding Season’, a caricature of Taganrog relatives
6. A portrait of a medical student, perhaps Anton by Kolia Chekhov, c. 1882
7. Students and professors celebrating Tatiana’s Day, 12 January 1882
8. Anton with Kolia
9. Anton Chekhov, 1883
10. Evgenia, Pavel, Aleksandr, Vania, Masha and Misha in the early 1880s
11. Masha, Anna Golden, Natalia Golden and Kolia, c. 1883
12. Franz Schechtel with Kolia Chekhov in the early 1880s
13. Future Doctors, autumn 1883
14. Nikolai Leikin, c. 1883
15. Natalia Golden as ‘Poverty’, painted by Kolia Chekhov
16. Anton Chekhov painted by Kolia, 1884
17. The Kiseliovs’ house
18. The Moscow house painted by Misha
19. Photograph of Anton given to Tchaikovsky
20. At the Lintvariovs’ cottage, May 1889
21. Kleopatra Karatygina
22. Olga Kundasova
23. Pavel Svobodin and Vladimir Davydov with Anton and Suvorin, January 1889
24. Repin’s drawing ‘Literary Society’ in St Petersburg, 1889
25. Anton Chekhov, January, 1890
26. Lika Mizinova in the early 1890s
27. At the Korneev house before setting off for Sakhalin, April 1890
28. Convicts being fettered on Sakhalin
29. A picnic with Japanese consular officials on Sakhalin, October 1890
30. Levitan with gun-dog, early 1890s
31. The house at Melikhovo by Simov
32. Masha, Anton, Vania, Aleksandra Liosova, Misha, Aleksandr Smagin, 25 March 1892
33. At Melikhovo, Easter 1892
34. With Pavel Svobodin at Milikhovo, June 1892
35. Aleksandr and Vania at Melikhovo, July 1892
36. Aleksandr’s sons Kolia and Tosia by the stables at Melikhovo, July 1892
37. Pavel and Evgenia at Melikhovo, July 1892
38. Anton with neighbours and colleagues, summer 1893
39. Natalia Golden-Chkhova with son Misha, 1893
40. Tatania Shchepkina-Kupernik, Lidia Iavorskaia and Anton, late 1893
41. Elena Shavrova, c. 1894
42. Masha and Natalia Lintvariova painting watched by artist Sakharov at Luka, c. 1894
43. Masha in the garden at Melikhovo, c. 1894
44. Anton, Mamin-Sibiriak and Ignati Potapenko, 9 January 1896
45. Sonia and Vania Chekhov with their son Volodia, 1896
46. Anton with the Suvorin family at Feodosia, September 1896
47. The schoolteachers at Talezh and Melikhovo
48. Lidia Iavorskaia
49. The Seagull being shot down
50. Back from the clinic, April 1897
51. With Quinine the dachshund, May 1897
52. Lika Mizinova with Anton, May 1897
53. Vera Komiss
arzhevskaia
54. Daria Musina-Pushkina with Anton, 31 May 1897
55. Aleksandra Khotdaintseva, c. 1898
56. With Moscow Arts Theatre members, Spring 1899
57. Vladimir Nemirovich-Danchenko
58. Olga Knipper
59. The Yalta house nearing completion, mid 1899
60. Dr Altshuller
61. Anton in his study at Yalta, 1900
62. Anton and Gorky, 5 May 1900
63. Anton and Olga on honeymoon, June 1901
64. Anton with the Tolstoys, 12 September 1901
65. Evgenia, Masha, Olga and Anton at Yalta, February 1902
66. In the garden at Yalta with a tame crane, March 1904
PREFACE
Anton once told me, ‘In time all my things must see the light of day and I have no reason to be ashamed of them.’
Bykov to Maria Chekhova, 7 April 1910 (LN87, 356)
We recognize Anton Chekhov today as a founding father of the modern theatre, where the author, not the actor, is king. We acknowledge him as the author who gave Europe’s narrative fiction a new ambiguity, density and subtle poetry. Of all the Russian ‘classics’ he is, to non-Russians especially, the most approachable and the least alien, whether on the stage or the printed page. He lets his reader and spectator react as they wish, draw their own conclusions. He imposes no philosophy. Chekhov’s approachability is inseparable from his elusiveness. It is very hard to say what he ‘meant’, when he so rarely judges or expounds. From Tolstoy’s or Dostoevsky’s fiction we can reconstruct a philosophy and a life. From Chekhov’s work, and from his many letters, we get only fleeting and contradictory glimpses of his inner world and experience. His many biographers have tried to build out of the evidence a consensual life of a saint – a man who in a life shortened by chronic illness pulled himself from poverty to gentility, became a doctor and tended to the oppressed, won fame as the leading prose-writer and dramatist of his time in Europe, was supported all his life by an adoring sister and, though too late, found happiness in marriage with the actress who interpreted him best.
All biography is fiction, but fiction that has to fit the documented facts. This life of Chekhov tries to encompass rather more than has been documented before. The picture of Chekhov is now more complex. If, however, the man that emerges is less of a saint, less in command of his fate than we have hitherto seen him, he is as much a genius and no less admirable. His life should not be seen as an adjunct to his writing: it was a source of experience that fed his fiction. It is, above all, a life enthralling for its own sake. Anton Chekhov suffered the irreconcilable demands of an artist with responsibilities to his art as well as to his family and friends. His life has many meanings: we read into it the story of a disease, a modern version of the Biblical ‘Joseph and his Brothers’, or even the tragedy of Don Juan. Chekhov’s life could be a novel by Thomas Mann about the unbridgeable gap between being an artist and a citizen. It also exemplifies the predicaments of a sensitive and talented Russian intellectual at the end of the nineteenth century – one of the richest and most contradictory periods in Russia’s political and cultural history.
Few writers guarded their privacy from the public eye as assiduously as Chekhov. Yet no writer so carefully preserved and filed every scrap of paper – letters, bills, certificates – connected with him and his family. Nor did his proclaimed ‘autobiographophobia’ prevent him from sorting out the year’s letters into cartons every Christmas.
There are many biographies available – some comprehensive, such as E. J. Simmons’s or Ronald Hingley’s, some flamboyant, such as Henri Troyat’s, some finely judged, such as Mikhail Gromov’s or V. S. Pritchett’s. Russian or not, they all use the same range of printed sources. Nearly five thousand letters written by Anton Chekhov have been published, but several have been severely bowdlerized. (The import of another fifteen hundred letters, now lost, can be inferred from the replies.) These sources, notably the complete works and letters in thirty-one volumes published in Moscow between 1973 and 1983, have a remarkably full and intelligent scholarly apparatus, all of which provides biographers with an enormous range and quantity of material.
The untapped sources are just as vast. In the archives, principally the Manuscript Department of the Russian State Library (once the Rumiantsev Museum, then the Lenin Library), there are some seven thousand letters addressed to Anton Chekhov. Perhaps half of the letters in the archive have never been referred to in print, primarily letters that reflect Chekhov’s private life. Moreover, in various archives (notably the Russian (formerly Central) State Archives for Literature and Art, the theatrical museum archives in Petersburg and Moscow, the Chekhov museums in Taganrog, Melikhovo and Sumy) there is a mass of documentary and pictorial material, letters of contemporaries which shed light on Chekhov’s life as a writer and a man. Archival records show that a small circle of Russian scholars have over the last thirty years combed these sources thoroughly, yet their published work, detailed in the bibliography of this book, uses only a fraction of these sources. A Russian and Soviet tradition of not ‘discrediting or vulgarizing’ (the phrase comes from a 1968 Central Committee resolution forbidding publication of certain passages) has even today made Russian scholars hesitant about bringing the full range and depth of the Chekhov archives into the public domain. Three years’ work systematically searching, transcribing and mulling over the documentation has convinced me that nothing in these archives either discredits or vulgarizes Chekhov. Quite the opposite: the complexity, selflessness and depth of the man become even clearer when we fully account for his human strengths and failings.
Chekhov’s life was short, but neither sweet nor simple. He had an extraordinary number of acquaintances and liaisons (though few true friends and lovers). He moved in many orbits – he had dealings with teachers, doctors, tycoons, merchants, peasants, bohemians, hacks, intellectuals, artists, academics, landowners, officials, actresses and actors, priests, monks, with officers, convicts, whores, foreigners and landowners. He got on well with people of every class and condition, except the nobility and court. He lived for virtually all his life with his parents and sister, and much of the time with one or more of his brothers as well, not to mention a network of aunts and cousins. He was restless: he had countless addresses and travelled widely from Hong Kong to Biarritz, from Sakhalin to Odessa. To write a full biography would take a lifetime longer than Chekhov’s own. I have concentrated on his relationships with family and friends, but there is a sense in which his life is also a historia morbi. Tuberculosis shapes it and ends it: his efforts to ignore and to cope with disease form the weft of any biography. There are many works in English offering a critical study of his work. If we read about Chekhov, it is primarily because he is a writer of very great importance. Any good bookshop or library offers a number of critical studies to enrich the reader’s understanding of Chekhov’s work. In this biography, however, his stories and plays are discussed inasmuch as they emerge from his life and as they affect it, but less as material for critical analysis. Biography is not criticism.
Not all the mysteries in Chekhov’s life can be solved, and much evidence is missing: Chekhov’s letters to his fiancée Dunia Efros, to Elena Pleshcheeva, to Emilie Bijon almost certainly exist in private hands in the west. It is equally possible that the hundreds of letters that Suvorin wrote to Chekhov are mouldering in an archive in Belgrade: their discovery would force Chekhov’s life, and (because of what Suvorin knew and confided to Anton) Russian history, to be rewritten. A few archival items have also proved difficult to trace, for example most of Chekhov’s student exercises in medicine. Nevertheless, the material that is now available enables a much fuller portrait of Chekhov and his times than ever before.
D. R.
Queen Mary & Westfield College, London
February 1997
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My warmest thanks go to Alevtina Kuzicheva. Without her assistance my work in the Otdel rukopisei (The Manuscript Depar
tment) of the Russian State Library and RGALI (Russian State Archives for Literature and Art) would have been more trammelled, and through her I had introductions to every major Chekhovian scholar and museum in Russia and the Ukraine. I want to thank the staff at the Russian State Library and the Manuscript Department who, despite the demoralizing conditions, a dilapidated building and grim prospects, managed to deliver most of what I sought; the same applies to the staff at RGALI. I am grateful to Galina Shchiobeleva of the Moscow Chekhov Museum, and to Igor Skobelev of the Sumy Chekhov Museum for allowing me so much access. To Liza Shapochka and her husband Vladimir Protasov of Taganrog I owe a special debt for their hospitality and consultations. Olga Makarova of Voronezh University Press has been very helpful in providing local material. Among my Western colleagues, Professor Rolf-Dieter Kluge, the energetic organizer of the Badenweiler conferences of 1985 and 1995, has been a great stimulus. I want to thank Dmitri Konovalov of Ufa for lending me his manuscript notes on the Andreev sanatorium, as well as for his hospitality. (None of these experts, or anybody else I have consulted, bears any responsibility for my judgments or approach.)
I also thank the doctor in charge of the hospital that was once Bogimovo and the staff at the Andreev sanatorium at Aksionovo. Apart from Siberia, Sakhalin and Hong Kong, I feel I have stood and sat, and have been a minor or major nuisance, in almost every place that bears Chekhov’s imprint. Descendants of Chekhov’s friends, for instance M. Patrice Bijon, have been most tolerant of my search for material. Countless people will be grateful that the work is finished. Thanks and acknowledgements for illustrations to the Bakhrushin Theatre Museum (Moscow), to the Chekhov Museums in Melikhovo, Moscow, Sumy, Taganrog and Yalta, to the Pushkinski Dom (St Petersburg), and to the Russian State Library.
This book owes much to British Academy support: notably a three-month humanities research fellowship, which extended my sabbatical leave long enough to make headway. To my colleagues at Queen Mary and Westfield College, who had to put up with frequent dereliction of duty, I proffer my apologies.
ABBREVIATIONS AND REFERENCES
This book is meant for the general reader, but, for specialists I have given sources for quotations and new information. References are given to archive sources and less accessible publications: Chekhov’s letters and the best-known memoirs (see Select Bibliography) are well indexed, and the reader can check these sources without additional reference. All translations into English are my own. In footnotes I have used a few abbreviations (the place of publication is Moscow, unless otherwise indicated):