Anton Pavlovich Chekhov (Russian: , pronounced [nton pavvt txf];

29 January 1860[1] 15 July 1904)[2] was a Russian playwright and short story writer, who is
considered to be among the greatest writers of short fiction in history. His career as a playwright
produced four classics and his best short stories are held in high esteem by writers and critics.[3][4]Along
with Henrik Ibsen and August Strindberg, Chekhov is often referred to as one of the three seminal
figures in the birth of early modernism in the theatre.[5] Chekhov practised as a medical
doctor throughout most of his literary career: "Medicine is my lawful wife", he once said, "and literature
is my mistress."[6]
Chekhov renounced the theatre after the reception of The Seagull in 1896, but the play was revived to
acclaim in 1898 by Konstantin Stanislavski's Moscow Art Theatre, which subsequently also produced
Chekhov's Uncle Vanya and premiered his last two plays, Three Sisters and The Cherry Orchard. These
four works present a challenge to the acting ensemble[7] as well as to audiences, because in place of
conventional action Chekhov offers a "theatre of mood" and a "submerged life in the text".[8]
Chekhov had at first written stories only for financial gain, but as his artistic ambition grew, he made
formal innovations which have influenced the evolution of the modern short story.[9] He made no
apologies for the difficulties this posed to readers, insisting that the role of an artist was to ask questions,
not to answer them.[10]
Childhood
Anton Chekhov was born on the feast day of St. Anthony the Great (17 January Old Style) 29 January
1860, the third of six surviving children, in Taganrog, a port on the Sea of Azov in southern Russia. His
father, Pavel Yegorovich Chekhov, the son of a former serf and his Ukrainian wife,[11] were from the
village Vilkhovatka near Kobeliaky (Poltava Region in modern-day Ukraine) and ran a grocery store. A
director of the parish choir, devout Orthodox Christian, and physically abusive father, Pavel Chekhov
has been seen by

some historians as the model for his son's many portraits of hypocrisy.[12]Chekhov's mother, Yevgeniya
(Morozova), was an excellent storyteller who entertained the children with tales of her travels with her
cloth-merchant father all over Russia.[13][14][15] "Our talents we got from our father," Chekhov
remembered, "but our soul from our mother."[16] In adulthood, Chekhov criticised his
brother Alexander'streatment of his wife and children by reminding him of Pavel's tyranny: "Let me ask
you to recall that it was despotismand lying that ruined your mother's youth. Despotism and lying so
mutilated our childhood that it's sickening and frightening to think about it. Remember the horror and
disgust we felt in those times when Father threw a tantrum at dinner over too much salt in the soup and
called Mother a fool."[17][18]
Chekhov attended the Greek School in Taganrog and the Taganrog Gymnasium (since renamed
the Chekhov Gymnasium), where he was kept down for a year at fifteen for failing an examination in
Ancient Greek.[19] He sang at the Greek Orthodox monastery in Taganrog and in his father's choirs. In a
letter of 1892, he used the word "suffering" to describe his childhood and recalled:
When my brothers and I used to stand in the middle of the church and sing the trio
"May my prayer be exalted", or "The Archangel's Voice", everyone looked at us with
emotion and envied our parents, but we at that moment felt like little convicts.[20]
He later became an atheist.[21][22][23]
In 1876, Chekhov's father was declared bankrupt after overextending his finances building a new house,
having been cheated by a contractor called Mironov.[24] To avoid debtor's prison he fled to Moscow,
where his two eldest sons, Alexander and Nikolay, were attending university. The family lived in
poverty in Moscow, Chekhov's mother physically and emotionally broken by the
experience.[25] Chekhov was left behind to sell the family's possessions and finish his education.
Chekhov remained in Taganrog for three more years, boarding with a man called Selivanov who, like
Lopakhin in The Cherry Orchard, had bailed out the family for the price of their house.[26] Chekhov
had to pay for his own education, which he managed by private tutoring, catching and
selling goldfinches, and selling short sketches to the newspapers, among other jobs.[27] He sent
every ruble he could spare to his family in Moscow, along with humorous letters to cheer them

1
up.[27] During this time, he read widely and analytically, including the works
of Cervantes, Turgenev, Goncharov, and Schopenhauer,[28][29] and wrote a full-length comic
drama, Fatherless, which his brother Alexander dismissed as "an inexcusable though innocent
fabrication."[30] Chekhov also enjoyed a series of love affairs, one with the wife of a teacher.[27]
In 1879, Chekhov completed his schooling and joined his family in Moscow, having gained admission
to the medical school at I.M. Sechenov First Moscow State Medical University.[31]
Early writings[edit]
Chekhov now assumed responsibility for the whole family.[32] To support them and to pay his tuition
fees, he wrote daily short, humorous sketches and vignettes of contemporary Russian life, many under
pseudonyms such as "Antosha Chekhonte" ( ) and "Man without a Spleen" (
). His prodigious output gradually earned him a reputation as a satirical chronicler of
Russian street life, and by 1882 he was writing for Oskolki (Fragments), owned by Nikolai Leykin, one
of the leading publishers of the time.[33] Chekhov's tone at this stage was harsher than that familiar
from his mature fiction.[34][35]
In 1884, Chekhov qualified as a physician, which he considered his principal profession though he
made little money from it and treated the poor free of charge.[36]
In 1884 and 1885, Chekhov found himself coughing blood, and in 1886 the attacks worsened, but he
would not admit his tuberculosis to his family or his friends.[16] He confessed to Leykin, "I am afraid
to submit myself to be sounded by my colleagues."[37] He continued writing for weekly periodicals,
earning enough money to move the family into progressively better accommodations.
Early in 1886 he was invited to write for one of the most popular papers in St. Petersburg, Novoye
Vremya (New Times), owned and edited by the millionaire magnate Alexey Suvorin, who paid a rate
per line double Leykin's and allowed Chekhov three times the space.[38] Suvorin was to become a
lifelong friend, perhaps Chekhov's closest.[39][40]
Before long, Chekhov was attracting literary as well as popular attention. The
sixty-four-year-old Dmitry Grigorovich, a celebrated Russian writer of the day, wrote to Chekhov after
reading his short story "The Huntsman" that[41] "You have real talent, a talent that places you in the
front rank among writers in the new generation." He went on to advise Chekhov to slow down, write
less, and concentrate on literary quality.
Chekhov replied that the letter had struck him "like a thunderbolt" and confessed, "I have written my
stories the way reporters write up their notes about fires mechanically, half-consciously, caring
nothing about either the reader or myself."[42]" The admission may have done Chekhov a disservice,
since early manuscripts reveal that he often wrote with extreme care, continually
revising.[43] Grigorovich's advice nevertheless inspired a more serious, artistic ambition in the
twenty-six-year-old. In 1888, with a little string-pulling by Grigorovich, the short story collection At
Dusk (V Sumerkakh) won Chekhov the coveted Pushkin Prize "for the best literary production
distinguished by high artistic worth."[44]
Turning points[edit]
In 1887, exhausted from overwork and ill health, Chekhov took a trip to Ukraine, which reawakened
him to the beauty of the steppe.[45] On his return, he began the novella-length short story "The
Steppe," which he called "something rather odd and much too original," and which was eventually
published in Severny Vestnik (The Northern Herald).[46] In a narrative that drifts with the thought
processes of the characters, Chekhov evokes a chaise journey across the steppe through the eyes of a
young boy sent to live away from home, and his companions, a priest and a merchant. "The Steppe"
has been called a "dictionary of Chekhov's poetics", and it represented a significant advance for
Chekhov, exhibiting much of the quality of his mature fiction and winning him publication in a literary
journal rather than a newspaper.[47]
In autumn 1887, a theatre manager named Korsh commissioned Chekhov to write a play, the result
being Ivanov, written in a fortnight and produced that November.[48] Though Chekhov found the
experience "sickening" and painted a comic portrait of the chaotic production in a letter to his brother
Alexander, the play was a hit and was praised, to Chekhov's bemusement, as a work of

2
originality.[49] Although Chekhov did not fully realise it at the time, Chekhov's plays, such as The
Seagull (written in 1895), Uncle Vanya (written in 1897), The Three Sisters (written in 1900), and The
Cherry Orchard (written in 1903) served as a revolutionary backbone to what is common sense to the
medium of acting to this day: an effort to recreate and express the "realism" of how people truly act and
speak with each other and translating it to the stage to manifest the human condition as accurately as
possible in hopes to make the audience reflect upon their own definition of what it means to be human,
warts and all.
This philosophy of approaching the art of acting has stood not only steadfast, but as the cornerstone of
acting for much of the 20th century to this day. Mikhail Chekhov considered Ivanov a key moment in
his brother's intellectual development and literary career.[16] From this period comes an observation of
Chekhov's that has become known as Chekhov's gun, a dramatic principle that requires that every
element in a narrative be necessary and irreplaceable, and that everything else be removed.[50][51][52]
Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first chapter
that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely
must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there.

Anton Chekhov[52][53]

The death of Chekhov's brother Nikolay from tuberculosis in 1889 influenced A Dreary Story, finished
that September, about a man who confronts the end of a life that he realises has been without
purpose.[54][55] Mikhail Chekhov, who recorded his brother's depression and restlessness after
Nikolay's death, was researching prisons at the time as part of his law studies, and Anton Chekhov, in a
search for purpose in his own life, himself soon became obsessed with the issue of prison reform.[16]
Sakhalin[edit]
In 1890, Chekhov undertook an arduous journey by train, horse-drawn carriage, and river steamer to
the Russian Far East and the katorga, or penal colony, on Sakhalin Island, north of Japan, where he
spent three months interviewing thousands of convicts and settlers for a census. The letters Chekhov
wrote during the two-and-a-half-month journey to Sakhalin are considered to be among his
best.[56] His remarks to his sister about Tomsk were to become notorious.[57][58]
Tomsk is a very dull town. To judge from the drunkards whose acquaintance I have
made, and from the intellectual people who have come to the hotel to pay their
respects to me, the inhabitants are very dull, too.[59]
The inhabitants of Tomsk later retaliated by erecting a mocking statue of Chekhov.
Chekhov witnessed much on Sakhalin that shocked and angered him, including floggings,
embezzlement of supplies, and forced prostitution of women. He wrote, "There were times I felt that I
saw before me the extreme limits of man's degradation."[60][61] He was particularly moved by the
plight of the children living in the penal colony with their parents. For example:
On the Amur steamer going to Sakhalin, there was a convict who had murdered his
wife and wore fetters on his legs. His daughter, a little girl of six, was with him. I
noticed wherever the convict moved the little girl scrambled after him, holding on to
his fetters. At night the child slept with the convicts and soldiers all in a heap
together.[62]
Chekhov later concluded that charity was not the answer, but that the government had a duty to finance
humane treatment of the convicts. His findings were published in 1893 and 1894 as Ostrov
Sakhalin (The Island of Sakhalin), a work of social science, not literature, that is worthy and
informative rather than brilliant.[63][64] Chekhov found literary expression for the "Hell of Sakhalin"
in his long short story "The Murder,"[65] the last section of which is set on Sakhalin, where the
murderer Yakov loads coal in the night while longing for home. Chekhov's writing on Sakhalin is the
subject of brief comment and analysis in Haruki Murakami's novel 1Q84.[66] It is also the subject of a
poem by the Nobel Prize winner Seamus Heaney, "Chekhov on Sakhalin" (collected in the
volume Station Island).[67]
Melikhovo[edit]

3
In 1892, Chekhov bought the small country estate of Melikhovo, about forty miles south of Moscow,
where he lived with his family until 1899. "It's nice to be a lord," he joked to his friend Ivan Leontyev
(who wrote humorous pieces under the pseudonym Shcheglov),[20] but he took his responsibilities as a
landlord seriously and soon made himself useful to the local peasants. As well as organising relief for
victims of the famine and cholera outbreaks of 1892, he went on to build three schools, a fire station,
and a clinic, and to donate his medical services to peasants for miles around, despite frequent
recurrences of his tuberculosis.[12][36][68]
Mikhail Chekhov, a member of the household at Melikhovo, described the extent of his brother's
medical commitments:
From the first day that Chekhov moved to Melikhovo, the sick began flocking to him
from twenty miles around. They came on foot or were brought in carts, and often he
was fetched to patients at a distance. Sometimes from early in the morning peasant
women and children were standing before his door waiting.[69]
Chekhov's expenditure on drugs was considerable, but the greatest cost was making journeys of several
hours to visit the sick, which reduced his time for writing.[70] However, Chekhov's work as a doctor
enriched his writing by bringing him into intimate contact with all sections of Russian society: for
example, he witnessed at first hand the peasants' unhealthy and cramped living conditions, which he
recalled in his short story "Peasants". Chekhov visited the upper classes as well, recording in his
notebook: "Aristocrats? The same ugly bodies and physical uncleanliness, the same toothless old age
and disgusting death, as with market-women."[71]
In 1894, Chekhov began writing his play The Seagull in a lodge he had built in the orchard at
Melikhovo. In the two years since he had moved to the estate, he had refurbished the house, taken up
agriculture and horticulture, tended the orchard and the pond, and planted many trees, which, according
to Mikhail, he "looked after ... as though they were his children. Like Colonel Vershinin in his Three
Sisters, as he looked at them he dreamed of what they would be like in three or four hundred
years."[16]
The first night of The Seagull, at the Alexandrinsky Theatre in St. Petersburg on 17 October 1896, was
a fiasco, as the play was booed by the audience, stinging Chekhov into renouncing the theatre.[72] But
the play so impressed the theatre director Vladimir Nemirovich-Danchenkothat he convinced his
colleague Konstantin Stanislavski to direct a new production for the innovative Moscow Art Theatre in
1898.[73] Stanislavski's attention to psychological realism and ensemble playing coaxed the buried
subtleties from the text, and restored Chekhov's interest in playwriting.[74] The Art Theatre
commissioned more plays from Chekhov and the following year staged Uncle Vanya, which Chekhov
had completed in 1896.[75]
Yalta[edit]
In March 1897, Chekhov suffered a major haemorrhage of the lungs while on a visit to Moscow. With
great difficulty he was persuaded to enter a clinic, where the doctors diagnosed tuberculosis on the
upper part of his lungs and ordered a change in his manner of life.[76]
After his father's death in 1898, Chekhov bought a plot of land on the outskirts of Yalta and built a villa,
into which he moved with his mother and sister the following year. Though he planted trees and
flowers, kept dogs and tame cranes, and received guests such as Leo Tolstoy and Maxim Gorky,
Chekhov was always relieved to leave his "hot Siberia" for Moscow or travels abroad. He vowed to
move to Taganrog as soon as a water supply was installed there.[77][78] In Yalta he completed two
more plays for the Art Theatre, composing with greater difficulty than in the days when he "wrote
serenely, the way I eat pancakes now". He took a year each over Three Sisters and The Cherry
Orchard.[79]
On 25 May 1901, Chekhov married Olga Knipper quietly, owing to his horror of weddings. She was a
former protege and sometime lover of Nemirovich-Danchenko whom he had first met at rehearsals
for The Seagull.[80][81][82] Up to that point, Chekhov, known as "Russia's most elusive literary
bachelor,"[83] had preferred passing liaisons and visits to brothels over commitment.[84]He had once
written to Suvorin:

4
 By all means I will be married if you wish it. But on these conditions: everything
must be as it has been hitherto that is, she must live in Moscow while I live in the
country, and I will come and see her ... I promise to be an excellent husband, but give
me a wife who, like the moon, won't appear in my sky every day.[85]
The letter proved prophetic of Chekhov's marital arrangements with Olga: he lived largely at Yalta, she
in Moscow, pursuing her acting career. In 1902, Olga suffered a miscarriage; and Donald Rayfield has
offered evidence, based on the couple's letters, that conception may have occurred when Chekhov and
Olga were apart, although Russian scholars have rejected that claim.[86][87] The literary legacy of this
long-distance marriage is a correspondence that preserves gems of theatre history, including shared
complaints about Stanislavski's directing methods and Chekhov's advice to Olga about performing in
his plays.[88]
In Yalta, Chekhov wrote one of his most famous stories,[89] The Lady with the Dog[90] (also translated
from the Russian as "Lady with Lapdog"),[91] which depicts what at first seems a casual liaison
between a cynical married man and an unhappy married woman who meet while vacationing in Yalta.
Neither expects anything lasting from the encounter. Unexpectedly though, they gradually fall deeply
in love and end up risking scandal and the security of their family lives. The story masterfully captures
their feelings for each other, the inner transformation undergone by the disillusioned male protagonist
as a result of falling deeply in love, and their inability to resolve the matter by either letting go of their
families or of each other.[92]
Death[edit]
By May 1904, Chekhov was terminally ill with tuberculosis. Mikhail Chekhov recalled that "everyone
who saw him secretly thought the end was not far off, but the nearer [he] was to the end, the less he
seemed to realise it."[16] On 3 June, he set off with Olga for the German spa town of Badenweiler in
the Black Forest, from where he wrote outwardly jovial letters to his sister Masha, describing the food
and surroundings, and assuring her and his mother that he was getting better. In his last letter, he
complained about the way German women dressed.[93]
Chekhov's death has become one of "the great set pieces of literary history,"[94] retold, embroidered,
and fictionalised many times since, notably in the short story "Errand" by Raymond Carver. In 1908,
Olga wrote this account of her husband's last moments:
Anton sat up unusually straight and said loudly and clearly (although he knew almost
no German): Ich sterbe ("I'm dying"). The doctor calmed him, took a syringe, gave
him an injection of camphor, and ordered champagne. Anton took a full glass,
examined it, smiled at me and said: "It's a long time since I drank champagne." He
drained it and lay quietly on his left side, and I just had time to run to him and lean
across the bed and call to him, but he had stopped breathing and was sleeping
peacefully as a child ...[95]
Chekhov's body was transported to Moscow in a refrigerated railway car meant for oysters, a detail that
offended Gorky.[96] Some of the thousands of mourners followed the funeral procession of a General
Keller by mistake, to the accompaniment of a military band.[97] Chekhov was buried next to his father
at the Novodevichy Cemetery.[98][99]

Legacy[edit]
A few months before he died, Chekhov told the writer Ivan Bunin that he thought people might go on
reading his writings for seven years. "Why seven?" asked Bunin. "Well, seven and a half," Chekhov
replied. "That's not bad. I've got six years to live."[100]
Chekhov's posthumous reputation greatly exceeded his expectations. The ovations for the play The
Cherry Orchard in the year of his death served to demonstrate the Russian public's acclaim for the
writer, which placed him second in literary celebrity only to Tolstoy, who outlived him by six years.
Tolstoy was an early admirer of Chekhov's short stories and had a series that he deemed "first quality"
and "second quality" bound into a book. In the first category were: Children, The Chorus Girl, A
Play, Home, Misery, The Runaway, In Court, Vanka, Ladies, A Malefactor, The
Boys, Darkness, Sleepy, The Helpmate, and The Darling"; in the second: A Transgression, Sorrow, The

5
Witch, Verochka, In a Strange Land, The Cook's Wedding, A Tedious Business, An Upheaval, Oh! The
Public!, The Mask, A Woman's Luck, Nerves, The Wedding, A Defenseless Creature, and Peasant
Wives.[101]
In Chekhov's lifetime, British and Irish critics generally did not find his work pleasing; E. J.
Dillonthought "the effect on the reader of Chekhov's tales was repulsion at the gallery of human waste
represented by his fickle, spineless, drifting people" and R. E. C. Long said "Chekhov's characters were
repugnant, and that Chekhov reveled in stripping the last rags of dignity from the human
soul".[102] After his death, Chekhov was reappraised. Constance Garnett's translations won him an
English-language readership and the admiration of writers such as James Joyce, Virginia Woolf,
and Katherine Mansfield, whose story "The Child Who Was Tired" is similar to Chekhov's
"Sleepy".[103] The Russian critic D. S. Mirsky, who lived in England, explained Chekhov's popularity
in that country by his "unusually complete rejection of what we may call the heroic values."[104] In
Russia itself, Chekhov's drama fell out of fashion after the revolution, but it was later incorporated into
the Soviet canon. The character of Lopakhin, for example, was reinvented as a hero of the new order,
rising from a modest background so as eventually to possess the gentry's estates.[105][106]
One of the first non-Russians to praise Chekhov's plays was George Bernard Shaw, who subtitled
his Heartbreak House "A Fantasia in the Russian Manner on English Themes," and pointed out
similarities between the predicament of the British landed class and that of their Russian counterparts
as depicted by Chekhov: "the same nice people, the same utter futility."[107]
In the United States, Chekhov's reputation began its rise slightly later, partly through the influence
of Stanislavski's system of acting, with its notion of subtext: "Chekhov often expressed his thought not
in speeches," wrote Stanislavski, "but in pauses or between the lines or in replies consisting of a single
word ... the characters often feel and think things not expressed in the lines they
speak."[108][109] The Group Theatre, in particular, developed the subtextual approach to drama,
influencing generations of American playwrights, screenwriters, and actors, including Clifford
Odets, Elia Kazan and, in particular, Lee Strasberg. In turn, Strasberg's Actors Studioand the "Method"
acting approach influenced many actors, including Marlon Brando and Robert De Niro, though by then
the Chekhov tradition may have been distorted by a preoccupation with realism.[110] In 1981, the
playwright Tennessee Williams adapted The Seagull as The Notebook of Trigorin. One of Anton's
nephews, Michael Chekhov would also contribute heavily to modern theatre, particularly through his
unique acting methods which developed Stanislavski's ideas further.
Despite Chekhov's reputation as a playwright, William Boyd asserts that his short stories represent the
greater achievement.[111] Raymond Carver, who wrote the short story "Errand" about Chekhov's death,
believed that Chekhov was the greatest of all short story writers:
Chekhov's stories are as wonderful (and necessary) now as when they first appeared.
It is not only the immense number of stories he wrotefor few, if any, writers have
ever done moreit is the awesome frequency with which he produced masterpieces,
stories that shrive us as well as delight and move us, that lay bare our emotions in
ways only true art can accomplish.[112]
Ernest Hemingway, another writer influenced by Chekhov, was more grudging: "Chekhov wrote about
six good stories. But he was an amateur writer."[113] And Vladimir Nabokov criticised Chekhov's
"medley of dreadful prosaisms, ready-made epithets, repetitions."[114] But he also declared The Lady
with the Dog "one of the greatest stories ever written" in its depiction of a problematic relationship, and
described Chekhov as writing "the way one person relates to another the most important things in his
life, slowly and yet without a break, in a slightly subdued voice."[115]
For the writer William Boyd, Chekhov's historical accomplishment was to abandon what William
Gerhardie called the "event plot" for something more "blurred, interrupted, mauled or otherwise
tampered with by life."[116]
Virginia Woolf mused on the unique quality of a Chekhov story in The Common Reader (1925):
But is it the end, we ask? We have rather the feeling that we have overrun our signals;
or it is as if a tune had stopped short without the expected chords to close it. These
stories are inconclusive, we say, and proceed to frame a criticism based upon the

6
 assumption that stories ought to conclude in a way that we recognise. In so doing we
raise the question of our own fitness as readers. Where the tune is familiar and the
end emphaticlovers united, villains discomfited, intrigues exposedas it is in
most Victorian fiction, we can scarcely go wrong, but where the tune is unfamiliar
and the end a note of interrogation or merely the information that they went on
talking, as it is in Tchekov, we need a very daring and alert sense of literature to
make us hear the tune, and in particular those last notes which complete the
harmony.[117]
While a Professor of Comparative Literature at Princeton University, Michael Goldman presented his
view on defining the elusive quality of Chekhov's comedies stating: "Having learned that Chekhov is
comic ... Chekhov is comic in a very special, paradoxical way. His plays depend, as comedy does, on
the vitality of the actors to make pleasurable what would otherwise be painfully awkward
inappropriate speeches, missed connections, faux pas, stumbles, childishness but as part of a deeper
pathos; the stumbles are not pratfalls but an energized, graceful dissolution of purpose."[118]
Alan Twigg, the chief editor and publisher of the Canadian book review magazine BC
Bookworldwrote,
One can argue Anton Chekhov is the second-most popular writer on the planet. Only
Shakespeare outranks Chekhov in terms of movie adaptations of their work,
according to the movie database IMDb. ... We generally know less about Chekhov
than we know about mysterious Shakespeare.[119]
Chekhov has also influenced the work of Japanese playwrights including Shimizu Kunio, Yji Sakate,
and Ai Nagai. Critics have noted similarities in how Chekhov and Shimizu use a mixture of light
humor as well as an intense depictions of longing.[120] Sakate adapted several of Chekhov's plays and
transformed them in the general style of n.[121] Nagai also adapted Chekhov's plays, including Three
Sisters, and transformed his dramatic style into Nagai's style of satirical realism while emphasising the
social issues depicted on the play.[121]
Chekhov's works have been adapted for the screen, including Sidney Lumet's Sea Gull and Louis
Malle's Vanya on 42nd Street. Laurence Olivier's last film as director was an adaptation of the Three
Sisters (UK 1970). It was released in the US in 1974. His work has also served as inspiration or been
referenced in numerous films. In Andrei Tarkovsky's 1975 film The Mirror, characters discuss his short
story "Ward No. 6". Woody Allen has been influenced by Chekhov and reference to his works are
present in many of his films including Love and Death (1975), Interiors (1978) and Hannah and Her
Sisters (1985). Plays by Chekhov are also referenced in Franois Truffaut's 1980 drama film The Last
Metro, which is set in a theatre. A portion of a stage production of Three Sisters appears in the 2014
drama film Still Alice.
Uncle Vanya (Russian: , translit. Dyadya Vanya) is a play by the Russian playwright Anton
Chekhov. It was first published in 1898 and received its Moscow premire in 1899 in a production by
the Moscow Art Theatre, under the direction of Konstantin Stanislavski.
The play portrays the visit of an elderly professor and his glamorous, much younger second wife,
Yelena, to the rural estate that supports their urban lifestyle. Two friendsVanya, brother of the
professor's late first wife, who has long managed the estate, and Astrov, the local doctorboth fall
under Yelena's spell, while bemoaning the ennui of their provincial existence. Sonya, the professor's
daughter by his first wife, who has worked with Vanya to keep the estate going, suffers from her
unrequited feelings for Dr. Astrov. Matters are brought to a crisis when the professor announces his
intention to sell the estate, Vanya and Sonya's home, with a view to investing the proceeds to achieve a
higher income for himself and his wife.

Background[edit]
Uncle Vanya is unique among Chekhov's major plays because it is essentially an extensive reworking
of his own play published a decade earlier, The Wood Demon.[1] By elucidating the specific changes
Chekhov made during the revision processthese include reducing the cast-list from almost two dozen
down to nine, changing the climactic suicide of The Wood Demon into the famous failed homicide
of Uncle Vanya, and altering the original happy ending into a more problematic, less final

7
resolutioncritics such as Donald Rayfield, Richard Gilman, and Eric Bentley have sought to chart the
development of Chekhov's dramaturgical method through the 1890s.
Rayfield cites recent scholarship suggesting Chekhov revised The Wood Demon during his trip to the
island of Sakhalin, a prison colony in Eastern Russia, in 1891.

Characters[edit]

Aleksandr Vladimirovich Serebryakov ( ): a retired

university professor, who has lived for years in the city on the earnings of his late first wife's rural
estate, managed for him by Vanya and Sonya.
Helena Andreyevna Serebryakova (Yelena) ( ): Professor
Serebryakov's young and beautiful second wife. She is 27 years old.
Sofia Alexandrovna Serebryakova (Sonya) ( ):
Professor Serebryakov's daughter from his first marriage. She is of a marriageable age, but is
considered plain.
Maria Vasilyevna Voynitskya ( ): the widow of a privy
councilor and mother of Vanya (and of Vanya's late sister, the Professor's first wife).
Ivan Petrovich Voynitsky ("Uncle Vanya") ( ): Maria's son and
Sonya's uncle, the title character of the play. He is 47 years old.
Mikhail Lvovich Astrov ( ): a middle aged country doctor.
Ilya Ilych Telegin ( ; nicknamed "Waffles" for his pockmarked skin):
an impoverished landowner, who now lives on the estate as a dependent of the family.
Marina Timofeevna ( ): an old nurse.
A Workman

Plot[edit]
Act I[edit]
A garden in Serebryakov's country estate. Astrov and Marina discuss how old Astrov has grown, and
how he feels bored with his life as a country doctor. Vanya enters, and complains about how all order
has been disrupted since the professor and his wife, Yelena, arrived. As theyre talking, Serebryakov,
Yelena, Sonya, and Telegin return from a walk. Out of the professor's earshot, Vanya calls him "a
learned old dried mackerel," criticizing him for his pomposity and the smallness of his achievements.
Vanyas mother, Maria Vasilyevna, who idolizes Serebryakov, objects to her sons derogatory
comments. Vanya also praises the professors wife, Yelena, for her beauty, arguing that faithfulness to
an old man like Serebryakov is an immoral waste of vitality. Astrov is forced to depart to attend a
patient, but not before delivering a speech on the preservation of the forests, a subject he is very
passionate about. Act I closes with Vanya declaring his love for an exasperated Yelena.
Act II[edit]
The dining room, several days later. It is late at night. Before going to bed, Serebryakov complains of
being in pain and of old age. Astrov arrives, having been sent for by Sonya, but the professor refuses to
see him. After Serebryakov is asleep, Yelena and Vanya talk. She speaks of the discord in the house,
and Vanya speaks of dashed hopes. He feels hes misspent his youth, and he associates his unrequited
love for Yelena with the devastation of his life. Yelena refuses to listen. Alone, Vanya questions why
he did not fall in love with Yelena when he first met her ten years before, when it would have been
possible for the two to have married and had a happy life together. At that time, Vanya believed in
Serebryakovs greatness and was happy to think that his own efforts supported Serebryakov's work;
now he has become disillusioned with the professor and his life feels empty. As Vanya agonizes over
his past, Astrov returns, somewhat drunk, and the two talk together. Sonya chides Vanya for his
drinking, and responds pragmatically to his reflections on the futility of a wasted life, pointing out that
only work is truly fulfilling.
Outside, a storm is gathering and Astrov talks with Sonya about the suffocating atmosphere in the
house; Astrov says Serebryakov is difficult, Vanya is a hypochondriac, and Yelena is charming but idle.
He laments that its a long time since he loved anyone. Sonya begs Astrov to stop drinking, telling him

8
it is unworthy of him to destroy himself. The two discuss love, during which it becomes clear that
Sonya is in love with the Doctor and that he is unaware of her feelings.
When Astrov leaves, Yelena enters and makes peace with Sonya, after an apparently long period of
mutual anger and antagonism. Trying to resolve their past difficulties, Yelena reassures Sonya that she
had strong feelings for her father when she married him, though the love proved false. The two women
converse at cross purposes, with Yelena confessing her unhappiness and Sonya gushing about the
doctors virtues. In a happy mood, Sonya leaves to ask the professor if Yelena may play the piano.
Sonya returns with his negative answer, which quickly dampens the mood.
Act III[edit]
Vanya, Sonya, and Yelena are in the living room, having been called there by Serebryakov. Vanya
calls Yelena a water nymph and urges her, once again, to break free. Sonya complains to Yelena that
she has loved Astrov for six years but that, because she is not beautiful, he doesnt notice her. Yelena
volunteers to question Astrov and find out if hes in love with Sonya. Sonya is pleased, but before
agreeing she wonders whether uncertainty is better than knowledge, because then, at least, there is
hope.
When Yelena asks Astrov about his feelings for Sonya, he says he has none and concludes that Yelena
has brought up the subject of love to encourage him to confess his own feelings for her. Astrov kisses
Yelena, and Vanya witnesses the embrace. Upset, Yelena begs Vanya to use his influence to allow her
and the professor to leave immediately. Before Serebryakov can make his announcement, Yelena
conveys to Sonya the message that Astrov doesnt love her.
Serebryakov proposes that he solve the familys financial problems by selling the estate, and using the
proceeds to invest in interest-bearing paper which will bring in a significantly higher income (and, he
hopes, leave enough over to buy a villa for himself and Yelena in Finland). Angrily, Vanya asks where
he, Sonya, and his mother would live. He protests that the estate rightly belongs to Sonya, and that
Serebryakov has never appreciated his self-sacrifice in managing the property. As Vanyas anger
mounts, he begins to rage against the professor, blaming him for the failure of his life, wildly claiming
that, without Serebryakov to hold him back, he could have been a second Schopenhauer or Dostoevsky.
In despair, he cries out to his mother, but instead of comforting her son, Maria insists that Vanya listen
to the professor. Serebryakov insults Vanya, who storms out of the room. Yelena begs to be taken away
from the country and Sonya pleads with her father on Vanya's behalf. Serebryakov exits to confront
Vanya further. A shot is heard from offstage and Serebryakov returns, being chased by Vanya, who is
wielding a loaded pistol. He fires the pistol again at the professor, but misses. He throws the gun down
in disgust and sinks into a chair.
Act IV[edit]
As the final act opens, a few hours later, Marina and Telegin wind wool and discuss the planned
departure of Serebryakov and Yelena. When Vanya and Astrov enter, Astrov says that in this district
only he and Vanya were "decent, cultured men" and that ten years of "narrow-minded life" have made
them vulgar. Vanya has stolen a vial of Astrovs morphine, presumably to commit suicide; Sonya and
Astrov beg him to return the narcotic, which he eventually does.
Yelena and Serebryakov bid everyone farewell. When Yelena says goodbye to Astrov, she admits to
having been carried away by him, embraces him, and takes one of his pencils as a souvenir.
Serebryakov and Vanya make their peace, agreeing all will be as it was before. Once the outsiders have
departed, Sonya and Vanya pay bills, Maria reads a pamphlet, and Marina knits. Vanya complains of
the heaviness of his heart, and Sonya, in response, speaks of living, working, and the rewards of the
afterlife: "We shall hear the angels, we shall see the whole sky all diamonds, we shall see how all
earthly evil, all our sufferings, are drowned in the mercy that will fill the whole world. And our life will
grow peaceful, tender, sweet as a caress. You've had no joy in your life; but wait, Uncle Vanya,
wait. We shall rest."

Productions[edit]
Although the play had previous small runs in provincial theatres in 1898, its metropolitan premire
took place on 7 November [O.S. 26 October] 1899 at the Moscow Art Theatre. Constantin

9
Stanislavski played the role of Astrov while Chekhov's future wife Olga Knipper played Yelena. The
initial reviews were favourable yet pointed to defects in both the play and the acting. As the staging and
the acting improved over successive performances, however, and as "the public understood better its
inner meaning and nuances of feeling," the reviews improved.[2] Uncle Vanya became a permanent
fixture in the Moscow Art Theatre.
Other actors who have appeared in notable stage productions of Uncle Vanya include Franchot
Tone, Cate Blanchett, Jacki Weaver, Antony Sher, Ian McKellen, William Hurt, George C.
Scott, Donald Sinden, Derek Jacobi, Michael Gambon, Tom Courtney, Trevor Eve and Laurence
Olivier.
The play was also adapted as the new stage-play Dear Uncle by the British playwright Alan Ayckbourn,
who reset it in the 1930s Lake Districtthis adaptation premiered from July to September 2011 at
the Stephen Joseph Theatre.[3]
The Cherry Orchard (Russian: , translit. Vishnevyi sad) is the last play by Russian
playwright Anton Chekhov. Written in 1903, it was first published by Znaniye (Book Two,
1904),[1] and came out as a separate edition later that year in Saint Petersburg, via A.F. Marks
Publishers.[2] It opened at the Moscow Art Theatre on 17 January 1904 in a production directed
by Konstantin Stanislavski. Chekhov described the play as a comedy, with some elements of farce,
though Stanislavski treated it as a tragedy. Since its first production, directors have contended with its
dual nature. It is often identified as one of the three or four outstanding plays by Chekhov, along
with The Seagull, Three Sisters, and Uncle Vanya.[3]
The play concerns an aristocratic Russian landowner who returns to her family estate (which includes a
large and well-known cherry orchard) just before it is auctioned to pay the mortgage. Unresponsive to
offers to save the estate, she allows its sale to the son of a former serf; the family leaves to the sound of
the cherry orchard being cut down. The story presents themes of cultural futility both the futile
attempts of the aristocracy to maintain its status and of the bourgeoisie to find meaning in its newfound
materialism.[citation needed] It dramatises the socio-economic forces in Russia at the turn of the 20th
century, including the rise of the middle classafter the abolition of serfdom in the mid-19th century and
the decline of the power of the aristocracy.
Widely regarded as a classic of 20th-century theatre, the play has been translated and adapted into
many languages and produced around the world. Major theatre directors have staged it,
including Charles Laughton, Peter Brook, Andrei erban, Jean-Louis Barrault, Tyrone Guthrie, Katie
Mitchell, Mehmet Ergen and Giorgio Strehler. It has influenced many other playwrights,
including Eugene O'Neill, George Bernard Shaw, David Mamet, and Arthur Miller.

Characters

Madame Lyubov Andreievna Ranevskaya a landowner. Ranyevskaya is

the linchpin around which the other characters revolve. A commanding and popular figure, she
represents the pride of the old aristocracy, now fallen on hard times. Her confused feelings of love
for her old home and sorrow at the scene of her son's death, give her an emotional depth that keeps
her from devolving into a mere aristocratic grotesque. Most of her humor comes from her inability
to understand financial or business matters.
Peter Trofimov a student and Anya's love interest. Trofimov is depicted as an "eternal" (in
some translations, "wandering") student. An impassioned left-wing political commentator, he
represents the rising tide of reformist political opinion in Russia, which struggled to find its place
within the authoritarian Czaristautocracy.
Boris Borisovich Simeonov-Pishchik a landowner and another old aristocrat whose estate
has hit hard times. He is constantly discussing new business ventures that may save him and
badgering Ranyevskaya for a loan. His character embodies the irony of the aristocracy's position:
despite his financial peril, he spends the play relaxing and socializing with the Gayevs.
Anya Lyubov's daughter, aged 17. She journeys to Paris to rescue her mother from her
desperate situation. She is a virtuous and strong young woman. She is in love with Trofimov and
listens to his revolutionary ideas, although she may or may not be taking them in.

10
 Varya Lyubov's adopted daughter, aged 24. Varya is the one who manages the estate and
keeps everything in order. She is the rock that holds the family together. The reason why
Ranevskaya adopted her is never made clear, although she is mentioned to have come from "simple
people" (most likely serfs). Varya fantasizes about becoming a nun, though she lacks the financial
means to do so. She adores her mother and sister, and frets about money constantly. Her
relationship to Lopakhin is a mysterious one; everyone in the play assumes that they are about to
be married but neither of them act on it.
Leonid Andreieveitch Gayev the brother of Madame Ranevskaya. One of the more
obviously comic characters, Gayev is a talkative eccentric. His addiction to billiards (often
manifesting itself at times of discomfort) is symbolic of the aristocracy's decadent life of leisure,
which renders them impotent in the face of change. Gayev tries hard to save his family and estate,
but ultimately, as an aristocrat, lacks the drive.
Yermolai Alexeievitch Lopakhin a merchant. Lopakhin is by far the wealthiest character in
the play, but comes from the lowest social class. This contrast defines his character: he enjoys
living the high life, but at the same time is uncomfortably conscious of his low beginnings and
obsession with business. He is often portrayed on stage as an unpleasant character because of his
greedy tendencies and ultimate betrayal of the Gayev family, but there is nothing in the play to
suggest this: he works strenuously to help the Gayevs, but to no avail. Lopakhin represents the new
middle class in Russia, one of many threats to the old aristocratic way of doing things.
Charlotta Ivanovna a governess. By far the most eccentric character, Charlotta is the only
governess the Gayevs could afford and is a companion for Anya. She is a melancholy figure, raised
by a German woman without any real knowledge of who her circus entertainer parents were. She
performs card tricks and ventriloquism at the party in the third act and accepts the loss of her
station, when the family disbands, with pragmatism.
Yepikhodov a clerk. The Gayev's estate clerk is another source of comedy. He is
unfortunate and clumsy in the extreme, earning him the insulting nickname "Twenty-Two
Calamities" (the nickname varies between translations) mostly invoked by Yasha. He considers
himself to be in love with Dunyasha, whom he has asked to marry him.
Dunyasha a housemaid. Like Lopakhin, she is another example of social mobility in Russia
at the time. A peasant who is employed as the Gayev's chambermaid, Dunyasha is an attention
seeker, making big scenes and dressing as a lady to show herself off. She is in some respects
representative of the aristocracy's impotence, as a lowly chambermaid would not in the past have
had the freedom to dress like a lady and flirt with the manservants. Although pursued romantically
by Yepikhodov, she is in love with Yasha, attracted to the culture he has picked up in Paris.
Firs a manservant, aged 87. An aging eccentric, Firs considers the emancipation of the
Russian serfs a disaster, and talks nostalgically of the old days when everybody admired their
masters and owners, such as Gayev's parents and grandparents. His senility is a source of much of
the play's poignancy, symbolizing the decay of the old order into muttering madness.
Yasha a young manservant, accompanying Lyubov on her way back from Paris and
desperate to return. Yasha represents the new, disaffected Russian generation, who dislike the staid
old ways and who will be the footsoldiers of the revolution. A rude, inconsiderate and predatory
young man, Yasha, like Dunyasha and Charlotta, is the best the Gayevs can afford. He toys with
the girlish affections of Dunyasha, the maid.
A Stranger a passer-by who encounters the Gayevs as they laze around on their estate
during Act II. He is symbolic of the intrusion of new ideologies and social movements that
infringed on the aristocracy's peace in Russia at the turn of the 20th century.
The Stationmaster and The Postmaster Both officials attend the Gayevs' party in Act III.
Although they both play minor roles (the Stationmaster attempts to recite a poem, and the
Postmaster flirts with Dunyasha), they are mostly symbols of the deprecation of the aristocracy in
1900s Russia Firs comments that, whereas once they had barons and lords at the ball, now it's the
postman and the stationmaster, and even they come only to be polite.
Grisha The son of Lyubov, drowned many years ago before her sojourn to Paris. She is
reminded of his existence through the presence of Trofimov, who was his tutor.
Guests, servants, and others.

11
Synopsis[edit]
The play opens in the early morning hours of a cool day in May in the nursery of Lyubov Andreyevna
Ranevskaya's ancestral estate, somewhere in the provinces of Russia just after the turn of the 20th
Century. Ranevskaya has been living with an unnamed lover in France for five years, ever since her
young son drowned. After receiving news that she had tried to kill herself, Ranevskaya's 17-year-old
daughter Anya and Anya's governess Charlotta Ivanovna have gone to fetch her and bring her home to
Russia. They are accompanied by Yasha, Ranevskaya's valet who was with her in France. Upon
returning, the group is met by Lopakhin, Dunyasha, Varya (who has overseen the estate in
Ranevskaya's absence), Leonid Andreyevich Gayev, Boris Borisovich Simeonov-Pishchik, Semyon
Yepikhodov, and Firs.
Lopakhin has come to remind Ranevskaya and Gayev that their estate, including the cherry orchard, is
due to go to auction in August to pay off the family's debts. He proposes to save the estate by allowing
part of it to be developed into summer cottages; however, this would require the destruction of their
famous cherry orchard, which is nationally known for its size.
Ranevskaya is enjoying the view of the orchard as day breaks when she is surprised by Peter Trofimov,
a young student and the former tutor of Ranevskaya's son, Grisha, whose death prompted Ranevskaya
to leave Russia five years ago. Much to the consternation of Varya, Trofimov had insisted on seeing
Ranevskaya upon her return, and she is grief-stricken at the reminder of this tragedy.
After Ranevskaya retires for the evening, Anya confesses to Varya that their mother is heavily in debt.
They all go to bed with renewed hope that the estate will be saved and the cherry orchard preserved.
Trofimov stares after the departing Anya and mutters "My sunshine, my spring" in adoration.
Act II takes place outdoors in mid-summer on the family estate, near the cherry orchard. The act opens
with Yepikhodov and Yasha trying for the affection of Dunyasha, by singing and playing guitar, while
Charlotta soliloquizes about her life as she cleans a rifle. In Act I it was revealed that Yepikhodov
proposed to Dunyasha around Easter; however, she has since become infatuated with the more
"cultured" Yasha. Charlotta leaves so that Dunyasha and Yasha might have some time alone, but that is
interrupted when they hear their employer coming. Yasha shoos Dunyasha away to avoid being caught,
and Ranevskaya, Gayev, and Lopakhin appear, once more discussing the uncertain fate of the cherry
orchard. Shortly Anya, Varya, and Trofimov arrive as well. Lopakhin teases Trofimov for being a
perpetual student, and Trofimov espouses his philosophy of work and useful purpose, to the delight and
humour of everyone around. During their conversations, a drunken and disheveled vagrant passes by
and begs for money; Ranevskaya thoughtlessly gives him all of her money, despite the protestations of
Varya. Shaken by the disturbance, the family departs for dinner, with Lopakhin futilely insisting that
the cherry orchard be sold to pay down the debt. Anya stays behind to talk with Trofimov, who
disapproves of Varya's constant hawk-like eyes, reassuring Anya that they are "above love". To
impress Trofimov and win his affection, Anya vows to leave the past behind her and start a new life.
The two depart for the river as Varya calls scoldingly in the background.
It is the end of August, and the evening of Ranevskaya's party has come. Offstage the musicians play as
the family and their guests drink, carouse, and entertain themselves. It is also the day of the auction of
the estate and the cherry orchard; Gayev has received a paltry amount of money from his and
Ranevskaya's stingy aunt in Yaroslavl, and the family members, despite the general merriment around
them, are both anxious and distracted while they wait for word of their fates. Varya worries about
paying the musicians and scolds their neighbour Pishchik for drinking, Dunyasha for dancing, and
Yepikhodov for playing billiards. Charlotta entertains the group by performing several magic tricks.
Ranevskaya scolds Trofimov for his constant teasing of Varya, whom he refers to as "Madame
Lopakhin". She then urges Varya to marry Lopakhin, but Varya demurs, reminding her that it is
Lopakhin's duty to ask for her hand in marriage, not the other way around. She says that if she had
money she would move as far away from him as possible. Left alone with Ranevskaya, Trofimov
insists that she finally face the truth that the house and the cherry orchard will be sold at auction.
Ranevskaya shows him a telegram she has received from Paris and reveals that her former lover is ill
again and has begged for her to return to aid him. She says that she is seriously considering joining him,
despite his cruel behaviour to her in the past. Trofimov is stunned at this news and the two argue about
the nature of love and their respective experiences. Trofimov leaves in a huff, but falls down the stairs

12
offstage and is carried in by the others. Ranevskaya laughs and forgives him for his folly and the two
quickly reconcile. Anya enters, declaring a rumour that the cherry orchard has been sold. Lopakhin
arrives with Gayev, both of whom are exhausted from the trip and the day's events. Gayev is distant,
virtually catatonic, and goes to bed without saying a word of the outcome of the auction. When
Ranevskaya asks who bought the estate, Lopakhin reveals that he himself is the purchaser and intends
to chop down the orchard with his axe. Ranevskaya, distraught, clings to Anya, who tries to calm her
and reassure her that the future will be better now that the cherry orchard has been sold.
Several weeks later, once again in the nursery (as in Act I), the family's belongings are being packed
away as the family prepares to leave the estate forever. Trofimov enters in search of his galoshes, and
he and Lopakhin exchange opposing world views. Anya enters and reprimands Lopakhin for ordering
his workers to begin chopping down the cherry orchard even while the family is still in the house.
Lopakhin apologizes and rushes out to stop them for the time being, in the hopes that he will be
somehow reconciled with the leaving family. Charlotta enters, lost and in a daze, and insists that the
family find her a new position. Ranevskaya tearfully bids her old life goodbye and leaves as the house
is shut up forever. In the darkness, Firs wanders into the room and discovers that they have left without
him and boarded him inside the abandoned house to die. He lies down on the couch and resigns himself
to this fate (apparently dying on the spot). Offstage we hear the axes as they cut down the cherry
orchard.

Composition[edit]
There were several experiences in Chekhov's own life that are said to have directly inspired his writing
of The Cherry Orchard. When Chekhov was sixteen, his mother went into debt after being cheated by
some builders she had hired to construct a small house. A former lodger, Gabriel Selivanov, offered to
help her financially, but secretly bought the house for himself. At approximately the same time,
Chekhov's childhood home in Taganrog was sold to pay off its mortgage. These financial and domestic
upheavals imprinted themselves deeply on his memory and would reappear in the action of The Cherry
Orchard.
Later in his life, living on a country estate outside Moscow, Chekhov developed an interest in
gardening and planted his own cherry orchard. After relocating to Yalta due to his poor health,
Chekhov was devastated to learn that the buyer of his former estate had cut down most of the orchard.
Returning on one trip to his childhood haunts in Taganrog, he was further horrified by the devastating
effects of industrial deforestation. It was in those woodlands and the forests of his holidays
in Ukraine that he had first nurtured his ecological passion (this passion is reflected in the character of
Dr. Astrov, from his earlier play Uncle Vanya, whose love of the forests is his only peace). A lovely
and locally famous cherry orchard stood on the farm of family friends where he spent childhood
vacations, and in his 1888 novella The Steppe, Chekhov depicts a young boy crossing Ukraine amidst
fields of cherry blossoms. Finally, the first inklings of the genesis for the play that would be his last
came in a terse notebook entry of 1897: "cherry orchard". Today, Chekhov's Yalta garden survives
alongside The Cherry Orchard as a monument to a man whose feeling for trees equaled his feeling for
theatre. Indeed, trees are often unspoken, symbolic heroes and victims of his stories and plays; so much
so that Chekhov is often singled out as Europe's first ecological author.
Chekhov wrote The Cherry Orchard over the course of several years, alternating between periods of
lighthearted giddiness and despondent frustration which he considered as bordering upon sloth (in a
letter, he wrote, "Every sentence I write strikes me as good for nothing.") Throughout this time he was
also further inhibited by his chronic tuberculosis. Guarded by nature, Chekhov seemed overly secretive
about all facets of the work, including even the title. As late as the Summer of 1902 he still had not
shared anything about the play with anyone in his immediate family or the Moscow Art Theatre (MAT).
It was only to comfort his wife, Olga Knipper(who was recovering from a miscarriage at the time), that
he finally let her in on the play's title, whispering it to her despite the fact that the two were alone.
Chekhov was apparently delighted with the very sound of the title, and enjoyed the same sense of
triumph months later when he finally revealed it to Konstantin Stanislavski. By October 1903 the play
was finished and sent to the MAT company. Three weeks later, Chekhov arrived at rehearsals in what
would be a futile attempt to curb all the "weepiness" from the play which Stanislavski had developed.
The author apparently also snickered when, during rehearsals, the word "orchard" was replaced with

13
the more practical "plantation", feeling that with that word he had perfectly and symbolically captured
the impracticality of an entire way of life.

Themes[edit]
One of the main themes of the play is the effect social change has on people. The emancipation of the
serfs on 19 February 1861 by Alexander II allowed former serfs to gain wealth and status while some
aristocrats were becoming impoverished, unable to tend their estates without the cheap labor of slavery.
The effect of these reforms was still being felt when Chekhov was writing forty years after the mass
emancipation.[4]
Chekhov originally intended the play as a comedy (indeed, the title page of the work refers to it as
such), and in letters noted that it is, in places, almost farcical.[5] When he saw the original Moscow Art
Theatre production directed by Konstantin Stanislavski, he was horrified to find that the director had
moulded the play into a tragedy. Ever since that time, productions have had to struggle with this dual
nature of the play (and of Chekhov's works in general).
Ranevskaya's failure to address problems facing her estate and family mean that she eventually loses
almost everything and her fate can be seen as a criticism of those people who are unwilling to adapt to
the new Russia. Her petulant refusal to accept the truth of her past, in both life and love, is her downfall
throughout the play. She ultimately runs between her life in Paris and in Russia (she arrives from Paris
at the start of the play and returns there afterwards). She is a woman who lives in an illusion of the past
(often reliving memories about her son's death, etc.). The speeches by the student Trofimov, attacking
intellectuals were later seen as early manifestations of Bolshevik ideas and his lines were often
censored by the Tsarist officials. Cherry trees themselves are often seen as symbols of sadness or regret
at the passing away of a certain situation or of the times in general.
The theme of identity, and the subversion of expectations of such, is one that can be seen in The Cherry
Orchard; indeed, the cast itself can be divided up into three distinct parts: the Gayev family
(Ranevskaya, Gayev, Anya and Varya), family friends (Lopakhin, Pishchik and Trofimov), and the
"servant class" (Firs, Yasha, Dunyasha, Charlotta and Yepikhodov), the irony being that some of them
clearly act out of place think of Varya, the adopted daughter of an aristocrat, effectively being a
housekeeper; Trofimov, the thinking student, being thrown out of university; Yasha considering
himself part of the Parisian cultural lite; and both the Ranevskayas and Pishchik running low on
money while Lopakhin, born a peasant, is practically a millionaire.
While the Marxist view of the play is more prevalent, an alternative view is that The Cherry
Orchard was Chekhov's tribute to himself. Many of the characters in the play hearken back to his
earlier works and are based on people he knew in his own life. It should also be noted that his boyhood
house was bought and torn down by a wealthy man that his mother had considered a friend. The
breaking guitar string in acts 2 and 4 hark back to his earliest works. Finally the classic "loaded
gun" that appears in many of Chekhov's plays appears here, but this is his only play in which a gun is
shown but not fired.

Production history[edit]
The play opened on 17 January 1904, the director's birthday, at the Moscow Art Theatre under the
direction of the actor-director Konstantin Stanislavski. During rehearsals, the structure of Act Two was
re-written. Famously contrary to Chekhov's wishes, Stanislavski's version was, by and large, a tragedy.
Chekhov disliked the Stanislavski production intensely, concluding that Stanislavski had "ruined" his
play. In one of many letters on the subject, Chekhov would complain, "Anya, I fear, should not have
any sort of tearful tone... Not once does my Anya cry, nowhere do I speak of a tearful tone, in the
second act there are tears in their eyes, but the tone is happy, lively. Why did you speak in your
telegram about so many tears in my play? Where are they? ... Often you will find the words "through
tears," but I am describing only the expression on their faces, not tears. And in the second act there is
no graveyard."[6] The playwright's wife Olga Knipper played Madame Ranevskaya in the
original Moscow Art Theatre production, as well as in the 300th production of the play by the theatre in
1943.

14
Although critics at the time were divided in their response to the play, the debut of The Cherry
Orchard by the Moscow Art Theatre on 17 January 1904 (Stanislavski's birthday) was a resounding
theatrical success and the play was almost immediately presented in many of the important provincial
cities. This success was not confined only to Russia, as the play was soon seen abroad with great
acclaim as well. Shortly after the play's debut, Chekhov departed for Germany due to his worsening
health, and by July 1904 he was dead.
The modest and newly urbanized audiences attending pre-revolutionary performances at S. V. Panin's
People's House in Saint Petersburg reportedly cheered as the cherry orchard was felled onstage.[7]
A production in 1925 at the Oxford Playhouse by J. B. Fagan[8] and a production in 1934 at
the Sadler's Wells Theatre in London directed by Tyrone Guthrie and translated by Hubert Butlerwere
among the first English-language productions of the play.
A television version featuring Helen Hayes as Ranevskaya, and Susan Strasberg as Anya, directed
by Daniel Petrie, was broadcast as part of the Play of the Week television series in 1959.
A Royal Shakespeare Company/BBC Television version from 1962 was directed by Michael
Elliott from Michel Saint-Denis stage production. This features Peggy Ashcroft as Ranevskaya, Ian
Holm as Trofimov, John Gielgud as Gayev, Judi Dench as Anya, Dorothy Tutin as Varya and Patsy
Byrne as Dunyasha.[9] This version has been released on DVD by BBC Worldwide.
A production starring Irene Worth as Ranevskaya, Raul Julia as Lopakhin, Mary Beth Hurt as Anya
and Meryl Streep as Dunyasha, directed by Andrei erban and featuring Tony Award-winning
costumes and set by Santo Loquasto, opened at the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts in 1977.[10]
A production directed by Peter Hall, translated by Michael Frayn and starring Dorothy Tutin as
Ranevskaya, Albert Finney as Lopakhin, Ben Kingsley as Trofimov and Ralph Richardson as Firs,
appeared at the Royal National Theatre in London in 1978[11] to nearly universal acclaim. A
minimalist production directed by Peter Gill opened at the Riverside Studios in London also in
1978,[11] to good reviews.
In 1981, Peter Brook mounted a production in French (La Crisaie) with an international cast including
Brook's wife Natasha Parry as Ranevskaya, Niels Arestrup as Lopakhin, and Michel Piccoli as Gayev.
The production was remounted at the Brooklyn Academy of Music in 1988 after tours through Africa
and the Middle East.[12]
Also in 1981, the BBC produced a version for British television by Trevor Griffiths from a translation
by Helen Rappaport and directed by Richard Eyre. Instead of her 1962 BBC role as daughter Anya,
Judi Dench here played the mother Ranevskaya to Bill Paterson's Lopakhin, Anton Lesser as
Trofimov, Frederick Treves as Gayev, Anna Massey as Charlotta, and a 24-year-old Timothy Spall as
Yepikhodov.[13]
A film version starring Charlotte Rampling as Ranevskaya, Alan Bates as Gayev, Owen Teale as
Lopakhin, Melanie Lynskey as Dunyasha and Gerard Butler as Yasha, directed by Michael Cacoyannis,
appeared in 1999.[14]
An L.A. Theatre Works recorded version of the play was produced in 2002 starring Marsha Mason,
Charles Durning, Hector Elizondo, and Jennifer Tilly. Others in the cast were Jordan Baker, Jon
Chardiet, Michael Cristofer, Tim DeKay, Jeffrey Jones, Christy Keef, Amy Pietz, and Joey Slotnick.
Wekande Walauwa, 2002, a Sinhalese film adapted to Sri Lankan family context was directed by the
prominent Sri Lankan director Lester James Peries.
The Steppenwolf Theatre Company (Chicago, Illinois) performed a version that was translated by its
Associate Artistic Director, Curt Columbus, and directed by ensemble member Tina Landau. The play
premiered on 4 November 2004 and ran until 5 March 2005 at the Upstairs Theatre. Appearing in the
performance were Robert Breuler, Francis Guinan, Amy Morton, Yasen Peyankov, Rondi Reed, Anne
Adams, Guy Adkins, Chaon Cross, Leonard Kraft, Julian Martinez, Ned Noyes, Elizabeth Rich, Ben
Viccellio, and Chris Yonan.[15]

15
The Atlantic Theatre Company (New York City) in 2005 produced a new adaptation of The Cherry
Orchard by Tom Donaghy, where much more of the comedy was present as the playwright had
originally intended.[16]
A new production of the play starring Annette Bening as Ranevskaya and Alfred Molina as Lopakhin,
translated by Martin Sherman and directed by Sean Mathias, opened at the Mark Taper Forum in Los
Angeles in February 2006.[17]
The Huntington Theatre Company[18] at Boston University produced a version in January 2007
using Richard Nelson's translation, directed by Nicholas Martin with Kate Burton as Madame
Ranevskaya, Joyce Van Patten as Charlotta Ivanovna, and Dick Latessa as Firs.[19]
Jonathan Miller directed the play in MarchApril 2007 at the Crucible Theatre, Sheffield, England. The
play represents Miller's return to the British stage after nearly a decade away[20]and stars Joanna
Lumley as Ranevskaya.
Libby Appel adapted and directed the play in 2007 for her farewell season as artistic director of
the Oregon Shakespeare Festival (Ashland, Oregon). The new translation, based on an original literal
translation by Allison Horsley, is considered to be "strongly Americanized".[21]
A version of the play was performed as the opening production on the Chichester Festival
Theatre Stage in MayJune 2008, with a cast including Dame Diana Rigg, Frank Finlay, Natalie
Cassidy, Jemma Redgrave and Maureen Lipman.[22]
In 2009, a new version of the play by Tom Stoppard was performed as the first production of The
Bridge Project, a partnership between North American and UK theatres. The play ran at the Brooklyn
Academy of Music. Sam Mendes directed the production with a cast including Simon Russell
Beale, Sinad Cusack, Richard Easton, Rebecca Hall and Ethan Hawke.[23]
A brand new adaptation of the play was produced by the Blackeyed Theatre in spring 2009 as a UK
tour, with a cast of four.[24]
In September 2009, a new adaptation of the play by Stuart Paterson was produced at the Dundee
Repertory Theatre with guest director Vladimir Bouchler.
A new translation of the play in Punjabi was performed in September 2009 by the students of Theatre
Art Department of Punjabi University, Patiala, India.
A version of the play in Afrikaans was performed in late September 2009 by students of the
Department of Drama at the University of Cape Town, South Africa.
A new adaption was commissioned by the Brighton Festival and performed by the dreamthinkspeak
group.[25] They renovated the old co-op home-store on the London Road using the whole store as a
stage. They renamed it Before I Sleep and said it was inspired by the original play. It received positive
reviews from both The Guardian[26] and The Independent[27]newspapers. It was funded by Arts
Council England, National Lottery and a long list of other Brighton and Hove based businesses.
In April 2010 at the Royal Lyceum Theatre in Edinburgh the Scottish playwright John Byrnestaged a
new version of the play as a Scottish 'social comedy', taking place in 1979 Scotland.[28]
The Royal National Theatre in London staged a new version starring Zo Wanamaker from May to
August 2011, reuniting director Howard Davies with writer Andrew Upton,[29] which was also shown
at cinemas internationally through National Theatre Live.[30]
The Eastern Bohemian Theatre, Pardubice, Czech Republic. Directed by Petr Novotn (director).
Translated by Leo Suchapa. Starring: Jindra Janoukov (Ranevskaya), Petra Tenorov (Anya),
Kristina Jelnkov (Varya), Zdenk Rumpk (Gayev), Ji Kalun (Lopakhin), Miloslav Tich
(Trofimov), Martin Mejzlk (Simeonov-Pishchik), Lda Vlkov (Charlotte), Ladislav piner
(Yepikhodov), Martina Sikorov (Dunyasha), Vclav Duek (Firs), Jan Musil (Yasha), Radek k
(Stationmaster), Alexandr Postler (Stranger). The play had a premiere 16 and 17 October 2011 at 7 pm
and last performance on 14 January 2012.
The Vinohrady Theatre, Prague. Directed by Vladimr Morvek. Starring Dagmar
Vekrnov-Havlov, Jiina Jirskov (Charlotte), Viktor Preiss, Pavla Tomicov, Martin Stropnick,

16
Lucie Juikov, Svatopluk Skopal, Andrea Elsnerov, Pavel Batk, Ilja Racek, Martin Zahlka, Ji
Dvok, ji k. The play had its premiere on 5 February 2008.
The Komorn scna Arna, Ostrava. Directed by Ivan Krej. Starring Alena Sasnov-Polarczyk,
Tereza Dokalov, Petra Kocmanov, Norbert Lich, Josef Kalua, Michal apka, Duan kubal,
Dana Fialkov, Michal Mouka, Tereza Cisovsk, Pavel Cisovsk, Albert uba, Marek Cisovsk,
Ren motek. The play had premiere on 21 March 2009.
The Theatre Workshop of Nantucket staged a new adaptation and translation of Chekhov's Cherry
Orchard set on Nantucket in 1972. The play premiered on 14 September 2012. It was directed by Anne
Breeding and Gregory Stroud, and translated and adapted by Gregory Stroud.[31]
The Stage Center Theatre at Northeastern Illinois University, Chicago, Illinois, presented a new version
of The Cherry Orchard, adapted and directed by Dan Wirth, in October, 2013.[32]
PK Productions will premiere a new version of The Cherry Orchard in November 2014 at the New
Wimbledon Theatre.[33] Adapted by director Patrick Kennedy, the production updates the setting
to London in 1976.[34]
Directed by Katie Mitchell, The Cherry Orchard opened at The Young Vic Theatre in London on 10
October 2014
A production of the Michael Frayn translation is in production at Helmsley Arts Centre
in Helmsley, North Yorkshire in May 2015, directed by David Powley.
Clemence Williams directed New Theatre (Sydney) production of David Mamet's adaptation 26 April
28 May 2016 with an original musical score by Eliza Scott.[35]
Roundabout Theatre Company presents a new adaptation by Stephen Karam on Broadway at
the American Airlines Theatre, starring Diane Lane as Ranevskaya. Previews began on 15 September
2016, with opening night on 16 October. The production is directed by Simon Godwin, with scenic
design by Scott Pask, costume design by Michael Krass, lighting design by Donald Holder, sound
design by Christopher Cronin, movement by Jonathan Goddard, and original music by Nico
Muhly.[36][37]

Legacy[edit]
The theatre scholar Michael Goldman has referred to the character Charlotta Ivanovna playing the
governess in this play as prototypical of characters Chekhov had visited in many of his plays. As
Goldman states: "Everyone in Chekhov resembles Charlotta Ivanovna... with her card tricks, and
ventriloquism. Each in his own way attempts a kind of magic, a spiritual mumbo-jumbo, a little number
designed to charm or placate or simply elegize reality the reality of life slipping away, of the
dissolving process. They are sad clowns, redeemed only by being fully felt as people, and not the
comic icons they are always threatening to become failed shamans, whose magic does not work
though it has cost them everything to perform."[38]
The Japanese film Sakura no Sono (2008) is about a drama group in a girls-only private high school
putting on a production of The Cherry Orchard. It is based on a previous film and a manga of the same
name.
The play has a role in the comedy film Henry's Crime (2011).

UNCLE VANYA INTRODUCTION

In A Nutshell
There's nothing like a botched murder plot to make audiences sit up and take notice.

Unless that botched murder plot takes place in Anton Chekhov's Uncle Vanya, in which all the
characters pretty much just say "meh" and go on with their lives. See, Chekhov's play is about wasted
time and unrequited love (sound like high school, anyone?), and it bucks tradition by not really being
about any great event or super climactic moment. It's sort of like Seinfeld in 19th-century Russia.

17
Now, bucking tradition was one of Chekhov's hobbies. He was a medical doctor who lived from 1860
to 1904 and wrote masterpiece short stories and plays in his spare time. Chekhov is famous for the way
he creates a realistic, even mundane mood rather than just slamming you over the head with fantastic
ideas or dramatic conflicts. He was into showing the way the Russian upper classes on the eve of the
Russian Revolution were just kind of waiting for their way of life to end.

Uncle Vanya was published in 1897 and premiered onstage in 1899, right on the eve of the 20th
century. If you can remember way back to the Y2K mania, you'll know that people tend to get antsy at
the dawn of a new age. Normal, everyday things take on more importance because they are emblematic
of the times. And, yeah, we'll go there: people get a little crazy, too.

So what does this all have to do with Uncle Vanya? Well, for starters, anxiety about the future shows
up everywhere. The country folk don't want the city slickers to sell their farm out from under them.
Some characters get freaked out about industry's effects on the environment. No one really knows
whether their crushes are going to work out. Some of these people waste their entire lives working for
others or loving those who don't love them back.

No easy answers here, folks.

Just like in real life, things in this play kind of fizzle out without reaching a big, dramatic climax. And
Chekhov was totally doing this on purpose. Uncle Vanya is actually a rewrite of one of Chekhov's
earlier plays, The Wood Demon. That play, written ten years earlier, climaxed with Uncle Vanya (same
character) killing himself. In Uncle Vanya, though, he tries to knock off his brother-in-law and misses
his shot. Twice. What a useless guy, right? He's not even good at making a play exciting.

But seriously, the lack of a climax and resolution make the play pretty modern and avant-garde (yeah,
we said that). Audiences probably expected a tragedy like The Wood Demon. Instead, they got
something hard to define. Is it tragedy? Comedy? Tragicomedy? Something else? As you read
Chekhov's play, try to put yourself in the shoes of those 19th-century playgoers, wondering what the
new century will bring.

WHY SHOULD I CARE?

What, you've never lived on a Russian farm translating books for your rich in-laws? Don't
worryneither have we, and we still liked Uncle Vanya. It might not be obvious how a 19th-century
Russian play about a bunch of dead-end lives really has anything to do with us today, but once you get
to reading you'll see how there are actually a lot of parallels between the society portrayed in the play
and the one we're enjoying today.

As we mentioned in the "In a Nutshell" section above, Uncle Vanya's about a society in the midst of a
huge change: the Industrial Revolution. Ever notice how as soon as you save up enough to buy the
newest gadget, they come out with a cooler one that not only has sixty-seven-way video chat but also
lets you take pictures of your dog in various interplanetary settings? All that change can make people
nervous. What if the next tablet makes better grilled cheese sandwiches than you do, making you
obsolete?
And that's one of the underlying currents in Uncle Vanya.

Of course, the characters in the play aren't worried about smart phones; they're still concerned about the
invention of the chainsaw. One character, Dr. Astrov, is super worried about how everyone is cutting
down the forests to burn the wood and build houses like there's no tomorrow. (And, wait, is there a
tomorrow? It's the end of the century, and sometimes people at the ends of centuries aren't so sure
about that.) Others are struggling to make a profit from their country estate and really aren't making
enough to squeak by. But the idea carries over: worries about where our society and our planet are
going are nothing new.

So, okay, Uncle Vanya was written at a time when all kinds of things were changing and the
Revolution was right around the corner. What do the characters in the play do in the face of all this
change? They meet it head on, of course, and usher in a bright new future.

Just kidding.

18
These chumps do nothing. Got that? Nothing. They're all miserable, but they don't do anything to solve
their problems. They just blame everybody else. Meanwhile, the world is changing, and life goes on,
leaving them behind. The way these people live their lives is so sad it's funny. And that's the point.
Want to know how not to live your life? Watch these folks live theirs. It'll scare you into action, and
that's just what our boy Chekhov wants.

UNCLE VANYA SUMMARY

How It All Goes Down

The whole play takes place at Professor Serebryakov's country house, which is inhabited year-round by
his daughter, Sonya, his late wife's mother, Mariya, and his late wife's brother, Ivan, or Vanya. They're
like his secret, leftover family while he lives it up with his new, hot wife in the city.

Marina, the housekeeper/nanny who is like part of the family, sits with Doctor Astrov and Vanya in the
garden. They all complain about how life has gotten complicated ever since Serebryakov showed up to
stay at the house with his much-younger new wife, Yelena. No one gets any work done with those two
around and the schedule is all out of whack.

Speak of the devil, Serebryakov, Yelena, Sonya, and a poor neighbor, Telegin, show up and join the
others for tea. Mariya joins them, but she's upset by her son Vanya's yapping about his frustration with
his life, most of which is directed toward Serebryakov. Dr. Astrov joins the old-man complaining
contest, but his beef is about the environment. No, seriously: he's very concerned about the destruction
of the Russian forest.

After all the griping is over, Vanya turns his attention to the Professor's new wife, Yelena. He's really
into her and thinks that she's wasting her youth on the old man. She doesn't seem too interested in what
he has to say.

Later on, at night, we find out that Serebryakov is a sick man who is almost always in pain. His wife
and daughter run around trying to calm him, but nothing really helps. Vanya tries again to get some
lovin' from Yelena, but she refuses him. Dr. Astrov shows up drunk, and Sonya, who is secretly in love
with him, begs him not to drink. He agrees, but seems to be totally oblivious of that fact that she's got a
mad crush on him.

Unsurprisingly, Sonya and her stepmother (who isn't too much older than she is) don't get along too
well. After the doctor leaves, though, they make nice.

During the day, Serebryakov assembles the family and wants to make an announcement. While they
wait for him, Vanya tries again to get Yelena to respond to his advances, but she gets mad at him.

Sonya and Yelena have a heart-to-heart. Sonya says she's crazy for Astrov but he doesn't notice her
because she isn't pretty. Yelena promises to find out what he thinks, and Sonya gets nervous about the
prospect of knowing the truth.

Yelena asks Astrov whether he loves Sonya. He says he doesn't love Sonya, and he takes the
opportunity to class it up and try and kiss Yelena. Hey, it turns out that she's into him, too (traitor!), but
Vanya sees their almost-kiss and Yelena freaks out. She wants to leave the country house and get back
to the city ASAP. We can't imagine why.

Serebryakov announces, at the family meeting, that he's in financial trouble and is planning to sell the
house and invest the money. He and the new wife will move to Finland. Vanya doesn't like the idea and
reminds Serebryakov that he, Sonya, and his mother have been working for free, taking care of the
house all this time, and that Serebryakov will leave them with nowhere to go.

Vanya gets really upset and blames his brother-in-law Serebryakov for all his life's problems. Vanya
leaves, and Serebryakov follows him. Shots are fired, but old deadeye Vanya misses the professor.
Twice.

19
In the last act, the doctor is trying to leave but he is missing a bottle of morphine, which Vanya has
stolen. Sonya gets him to give it back. Yelena and Serebryakov leave, and everyone goes back to their
ordinary lives again.

ACT 1 SUMMARY

Marina and Astrov drink tea in the garden of Serebryakov's country house. They talk about
how they've known each other for at least eleven years.
Astrov thinks that he has become old and eccentric.
Voynitsky, aka Vanya, comes out of the house after his nap. He complains that ever since
Professor Serebryakov and his wife have come to the house to live his schedule has been
interrupted.
Marina also notices that the Professor has screwed up the house's eating schedule, and Vanya
worries that they'll stay for a hundred years.
Serebryakov, his wife Yelena, his daughter Sonya, and their neighbor Telegin come into the
garden from their walk. Only Telegin joins Marina for tea.
Vanya gets in some jabs about how old the Professor is and also moons over how beautiful the
Professor's wife is.
Vanya thinks that Yelena should betray her old husband so that she can be true to herself and
enjoy her youth. Telegin thinks that's not such a great idea.
Sonya and Yelena come out into the garden, and Mariya, the mother of Vanya and of the
Professor's first wife, joins them.
Mariya tries to start talking about a philosophical or political debate that she's been reading,
but Vanya cuts her off rudely.
He's jealous of how much his mother admires the Professor and makes vaguely suicidal
references.
Astrov, a doctor, is called away to the factory and as he goes Sonya starts bragging about what
a great guy he is. It turns out he has earned medals for planting new trees and campaigning
against the destruction of old forests.
This really gets Astrov going and he starts on a tirade against the people who are cutting down
the trees instead of using peat to burn and building their houses of stone instead of wood.
Sonya leaves to see Astrov to the door, and while they're gone, Yelena scolds Vanya for the
way he acted toward his mother and her husband.
Vanya confesses his love to Yelena, and she begs him to stop before someone hears.

ACT 2 SUMMARY

In the evening, in the dining room, Serebryakov and Yelena sit dozing. He complains about
his pain, and she tries to comfort him.
Serebryakov picks a fight with Yelena for being young while he is old and disgusting.
Because that's a great thing to fight about.
Sonya comes in and scolds her father for sending for the doctor and then refusing to see him.
Vanya comes in and offers to stay up with Serebryakov so that Yelena and Sonya can go to
sleep.
In the end, it's Marina who takes care of Serebryakov (are we surprised?), and she and Sonya
take him off to bed.
Vanya, who is drunk, lingers with Yelena and tells her that he loves her. She leaves, and he
laments the fact that he could have fallen in love with her ten years before, but didn't.
Astrov shows up, also drunk, along with Telegin, and Astrov tries to start a party.
Astrov teases Vanya for his feelings for Yelena, and makes Telegin play his guitar, even
though everyone else is trying to sleep.
Sonya comes in and asks everyone to stop drinking so much. Someone forgot to tell her she's
in a Russian play.

20
 Sonya and Astrov have a midnight snack together, and he takes the opportunity to criticize
everyone in her family and complain about his life.
Sonya makes Astrov promise not to drink anymore so that he won't destroy himself.
Sonya hints that she loves Astrov, but he doesn't take the bait. He says he doesn't love anyone.
Astrov leaves, and Yelena comes in. She and Sonya, who haven't gotten along well up until
this point, decide to make friends and drink some wine together. At least it's not vodka.
Sonya starts opening up and reveals that she is in love with Astrov.
Yelena reveals that she is very unhappy in her life and marriage.
Sonya and Yelena want to play the piano, so Sonya goes to ask her father if he minds. Yelena
is happy to play, but Sonya comes back with the answer: no.

ACT 3 SUMMARY

In the daytime, Vanya, Sonya, and Yelena are gathered in the drawing room, waiting for
Serebryakov, who has an announcement for them.
Yelena says she's bored, and Sonya insists that she just needs something to keep herself busy
because she's infecting everyone with her laziness.
Vanya leaves and Sonya tells Yelena that she's dying of love for Astrov. Yelena promises to
talk to him and find out if he feels the same way.
Yelena says that it will be better to be certain, though Sonya isn't sure. She thinks that with
uncertainty she at least still has hope.
When Yelena approaches Astrov about Sonya, however, he just starts talking about the decay
of society and civilization.
Yelena finally gets her chance to ask Astrov about Sonya, and when he confirms that he
doesn't love her, Yelena asks him to stop coming around so that he won't torture the poor girl
anymore.
Astrov misunderstands Yelena's intentions and thinks that she is the one who has a crush on
him. He tries to kiss her, and just then Vanya walks in with a bouquet of flowers and sees
Yelena struggling. The plot thickens.
Yelena asks Vanya to help her get out of the country house. She wants to leave that very day.
Finally, Serebryakov shows up to make his announcement. As his speech begins, Sonya can
tell by Yelena's actions that Astrov doesn't love her.
Serebryakov reveals that he's in financial doo doo. He doesn't have enough money to live in
the city, but he hates living in the country. So he's going to sell the estate and move to Finland.
Vanya is pretty ticked off at this proposal since he, his mother, and his niece, Sonya, won't
have anywhere to go. He explains that the estate had belonged to his sister, and that he gave
up his own inheritance to buy it for her. Now that he's worked for years keeping it running, his
former brother-in-law wants to sell it out from under him.
The family meeting turns into a shouting match, with Vanya and Yelena as the main maniacs.
Sonya begs her father to have mercy on Vanya, reminding him that she, her uncle, and her
grandmother worked their whole lives for him without asking for anything in return.
Serebryakov goes offstage and a shot is fired. He comes back in, and Vanya shoots at him one
more time. He misses both times, and gives up on his mission.

ACT 4 SUMMARY

In Vanya's room, Telegin and Marina sit and wind wool to make stockings. They talk about
how Serebryakov and Yelena are getting ready to leave.
Telegin says that he hid Vanya's gun in the cellar to keep him from killing himself. (He'd
probably miss, though, right?)
Astrov and Vanya come in arguing. Astrov claims that Vanya has stolen some morphine from
him and can't leave until he gets it back.
Sonya enters, and Astrov tattles to her about the morphine. She begs her uncle to give it back,
and he finally does.

21
 Sonya takes her uncle away to make up with her dad, and Yelena shows up to say goodbye to
Astrov.
Sonya hints that she does kind of like him, even if it's something that would never work out.
Serebryakov, Vanya, Mariya, Telegin, and Sonya all come back, and Serebryakov apologizes
to Vanya. Vanya promises to continue to send Serebryakov money from the estate's earnings.
Everyone leaves except for Astrov and Vanya, and Vanya doesn't know what to do with
himself. He wants to get to work.
Sonya and Mariya come back after seeing off Serebryakov and Yelena, and everyone settles in
to start writing bills and knitting. Astrov leaves everyone going about their business.
Vanya is sad, and Sonya tells him that they must continue living until it's time for them to die,
and then they shall rest. Bummer.

Uncle Vanya Themes

The Home

Broken home is more like it. The home in question is the country house of the family that's at the heart
of the Uncle Vanya, and the true owner of the estate is dead. And she only had it because her brother
worked to pay off the mortgage, foregoing his own inheritance so that she would have someone. This
leaves a lot of misunderstandings, hurt feelings, and unpaid sacrifice rattling around the halls of the
house.

The saddest part is that the house in question is the home of several of the characters. The fact that it's
just a country home to the city folk shows the status they give the estate, which isn't much. So while it's
everything to some people, the ones who have control don't give it its due.

Questions About The Home

1. How would the play be different if it took place in the city? What is it about the country house
that influences the events?
2. When Yelena says that the house is "troubled," what is she referring to?
3. What does the country estate represent to each character? How does the Professor feel about it
in comparison to Vanya or Sonya?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

The estate is a microcosm of society, showing the way the social classes duke it out.

The country house represents the past, with Vanya constantly remembering his younger days and
Serebryakov living off of his late wife's inheritance.

MARINA: [...] Before they came we always had dinner before one o'clock, like
people everywhere else, but with them here it's after six. At night the Professor reads
and writes, and suddenly he rings after one in the morning I ask you, gentlemen.
For tea! Wake the servants for him, put on the samovar What a way to live!
(1.68-72)

Marina, the nyanya, is in charge of general upkeep of the home. And for her, what really makes a
house a home is whether it runs on schedule. Her concern over Serebryakov and Yelena's
intrusion is that they are causing everyone else to live differently, not like everyone else, and that
disrupts her feeling of home.

22
Quote #2

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: This house is troubled. Your mother hates everything

except her pamphlets and the Professor; the Professor is angry, he doesn't trust me
and is frightened of you; Sonya is cross with her father, is cross with me and hasn't
talked to me now for two weeks; you hate my husband and openly despise your
mother; I'm angry and today I've started to cry twenty times This house is troubled.
(2.133-38)

When we think of a troubled house, we think of sagging ceilings, maybe broken windows, even a
ghost infestation. But Yelena is talking about the house as a metaphor for the family. When she
says it's troubled, she's talking about all the dysfunctional relationships crisscrossing under one
roof.

Quote #3

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: [...] But I'm a boring incidental character In my music

and in my husband's house, in all my romancesin a word, in everything, I've
always just been an incidental character. (2.460-62)

The home in this statement is like a play. This metaphor creates a play within a play. Yelena
compares the family members to characters, and her husband's house to a stage, where she plays
only a minor part. This partly speaks to her status as a woman: no one is interested in her as an
individual person with thoughts and feelings. She's mostly just property, really. Hot and beautiful
property, but still property.

ASTROV: I have my own desk here in the house In Ivan Petrovich's room. (3.143)

Poor Vanya. We think we'd probably end up just as grouchy as he is if the country doctor had a
desk in our bedroom that he could use whenever he wanted. But besides the grouch-factor, we
can also see that having a work desk inside of a bedroom means that work, and managing the
estate, are Vanya's constant concern.

Quote #5

SEREBRYAKOV: Where are the others? I don't like this house. It's like a maze.
Twenty-six huge rooms, everyone wanders off and you never find them. [Rings.] Ask
Mariya Vasilyevna and Yelena Andreyevna to come here!

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: I'm here. (3.284-88)

Wow. If the country house has 26 gigantic rooms, we'd like to know what the regular, everyday
house is like. Serebryakov compares the family home to a maze, and it's an apt simile, because
everyone in it seems lost, or running into a dead end. Sonya's got no prospects for love, and
Vanya's got no way out of working for his brother-in-law. Pretty much everyone has reached a
dead end in some way.

Quote #6

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 SEREBRYAKOV: [...] Our estate produces on average not more than two per cent. I
propose to sell it. (3.342-43)

Home, sweet home? Not so much. While Sonya, Mariya, Marina, and Vanya all consider the
estate their home (it's where their hearts are), Serebryakov obviously sees things differently. For
him, it's an investment, and when it stops producing profits for him, he can sell it as easily as
closing down his savings account. He doesn't really care about what this means for the people
who live there.

VOYNITSKY: Exactly. You'll sell the estate, excellent, a splendid idea And where
would you like me and my old mother and Sonya here to go? (3.354-56)

Hmm. We think that Vanya might be using a little bit of sarcasm with his "exactly," "excellent,"
and "splendid" adjectives. Of course he's threatened by Serebryakov's proposal because it would
mean losing the only home he's known for many, many years. He's also drawing attention to the
way Serebryakov thinks of no one but himself.

VOYNITSKY: [...] Until now I've been stupid enough to think this estate belongs to
Sonya. My late father bought this estate as a dowry for my sister. Up till now I've
been nave, I assumed we weren't living under Turkish law and I thought the estate
had passed from my sister to Sonya. (3.360-64)

Where to begin? Patriarchy, racial stereotypes, and yet another healthy dose of sarcasm are flying
our way. Vanya is pointing out that, while Serebryakov is living off the estate's profits, it's not
actually his. It belongs legally to Sonya, who also sees it as her home. The deal with Turkish law
is that, in Vanya's mind, in Turkey, women like Sonya wouldn't have property rights.

Quote #9

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: I am leaving this hell this very minute. [She is shouting.]
I can't stand it any longer! (3.444-45)

They say one man's trash is another man's treasure, and apparently one man's home is another
woman's hell. Yelena is talking about the country estate when she says "this hell," and the reason
that she can't stand it any longer is that every man there is throwing himself at her. We'd probably
want to get out of Dodge, too.

TELEGIN: They got frightened Yelena Andreyevna was saying, 'I don't want to
live here one single hour more let's just go We'll stay a while in Kharkov,' she
said, 'and take stock, and then send for our things' They're leaving with no luggage.
(4.18-23)

Homelessness sets in for Yelena and Serebryakov at the end of the play. Yelena is so upset by the
insanity of the household that she is willing to leave without her suitcase, going where she has
nowhere to stay, rather than be in the country house one minute more.

LOVE

What's love got to do with it? Well, a whole lot of nothing, it turns out, in Uncle Vanya. The characters

24
are pretty much all pining over each other, but no one manages to connect. You've really got the
makings for a soap opera, with Sonya crushing on Astrov, who's into Sonya's stepmother, who's also
fighting off her husband's first wife's brother! Oh, the humanity. Unrequited love is where it's at in this
play. And it really is a way of showing how no one in the society portrayed in Uncle Vanya is getting
what they want, romantically or otherwise.

Questions About Love

1. What are the different kinds of love that are represented in the play?
2. How do the characters in Uncle Vanya use love as an indirect way to show their lack of love
for others?
3. What is the difference between love and lust in the play?
4. Are there any two characters that actually seem to love each other? Or are all the loves
unrequited?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

In Uncle Vanya, "love" is actually a way for the men in the play to position themselves in society,
using the women as their stepping stones.

Astrov's love for Marina is the only true love in the play.

ASTROV: [...] I don't want anything, I don't need anything, I don't love anyone
But I do love you. [Kisses her on the head.] As a child I had a nyanya like you.
(1.33-35)

When the Doctor says that he doesn't love anyone, but makes an exception for Marina, we see it
as a way of separating out different kinds of love. There's the first kind, which he doesn't feel for
anyone, and goes along with wanting and needing someone else. The second kind is a nostalgic
love, which is more like the relationship between a mother or nanny and child.

Quote #2

VOYNITSKY: But how lovely she is! How lovely! In all my life I've never seen
such a beautiful woman. (1.96-97)

Beauty and loveliness are synonyms, and the fact that Vanya is putting the adjectives "lovely"
and "beautiful" together shows how love, for him, goes hand in hand with pretty things. He
doesn't seem to respect Yelena for her brains, musical talents, or personality; for him, her outer
appearance is all it takes for him to love her. Which makes us think that Vanya's emotions might
be a little bit superficial.

Quote #3

VOYNITSKY: [...] No Don Juan has had such complete success! His first wife, my
sister, a lovely meek creature, pure as that blue sky, noble, generous, with more
admirers than he had students, loved him with the kind of love only pure angels have
for those as pure and beautiful as themselves. (1.141-45)

25
 Don Juan is the original Latin lover, a real womanizer, so when Vanya compares Serebryakov to
him, it all seems a little bit silly. Serebryakov is old, grouchy, and sicknot exactly what the
ladies go for. And that irony, the difference between Don Juan and Serebryakov, is exactly what
drives Vanya nuts: the old guy is just as lucky as the world's greatest lover, even though he
doesn't seem to have any redeeming qualities.

VOYNITSKY: Because that 'fidelity' is false from start to finish. It's full of rhetoric
but has no logic. To betray your old husband whom you can't standis immoral; but
to try and stifle in yourself your wretched youth and your living feelingis not.
(1.153-56)

Vanya is trying to change the rules of society here by asking to whom one must be faithful in a
marriage. The answer, traditionally, of course, is to your spouse. But he is proposing that, by
being faithful to her spouse, Yelena is being untrue to herself because she is young and beautiful
and should therefore have an equally young and beautiful husband. He wants to invent a new
morality where being faithful to yourself is the most moral thing to do.

Quote #5

MARINA: [...] Vera Petrovna, your late wife, little Sonya's mother, used not to sleep
at nights, she used to worry She loved you very much (2.114-16)

Poor, wittle Professor; he's got the entire house, his daughter, wife, brother-in-law, and
the nyanya up with him since he can't sleep through his sickness, and even that doesn't satisfy him.
Marina's comment about his first wife is obviously comparing her to his second wife, Yelena,
who is technically up with him but doesn't seem too worried. And since Marina seems to equate
worry with love, this is a jab at the new, worry-free wife.

Quote #6

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: When you speak to me of your love, I somehow go

numb and don't know what to say. I'm sorry, I can't say anything to you. [Moves
towards door.] Good night. (2.158-60)

Wow. Hope you have better luck when you ask your crush out to the prom! Because numbness is
not usually what you're hoping for when you declare your love for someone. Yelena is numb, and
that's her problem. She doesn't seem to be in touch with her feelings at all, and she lets herself be
carried along by what her husband wants without recognizing what she herself wants. Sounds a
lot like most of the characters in the play, right?

ASTROV: [...] I now expect nothing for myself, I don't love humanity It's a long
time since I loved anyone. (2.230-21)

This is an interesting way of saying that you're single and loving it, Doctor. Putting the verbs
"expect" and "love" together like this makes the spectator think about the connection between
them. And it's trueexpectations and love go hand in hand. When you love someone, you
imagine a future with them. Astrov has given up on love and therefore has no expectations for the
future.

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Quote #8

ASTROV: [...] I am old, I've worked myself to the bone, I've coarsened, all my
feelings are blunted and I don't think now I could become attached to a human being.
I love no one and now I won't love. What still excites me is beauty. I am not
indifferent to that. I think that if Yelena Andreyevna wanted to, she could turn my
head in a day But that's not love, that's not affection [Covers his eyes with a
hand and shudders.] (2.354-60)

Astrov feels like his love machine's gotten rusty from disuse, and while it's trying to kick into
gear now that he's feeling butterflies over Yelena, it's been out of commission for so long that it
might not turn over. The problem is that Astrov isn't able to recognize that his feelings might be
love. He'd rather call them lust and continue to ignore them.

Quote #9

SONYA: [...] Tell me, Mikhail Lvovich If I had a friend or a younger sister and if
you learnt that she well, let's say, loved you, how would you react to that?

ASTROV: [shrugging] I don't know. I suppose, not at all. I would let her know that I
could not love her (2.366-70)

Admit it; you've tried the "I've got this friend (and it isn't me!) who needs some advice" shtick,
and everyone saw right through it. Sonya's doing everything she can to show Astrov that she's
into him, and even this lame "friend or younger sister" line doesn't get through to him. It's time
for her to read He's Just Not That Into You.

SONYA: [...] I've loved him for six years now, I love him more than my mother;
every minute I hear him, I feel the pressure of his handshake; and I look at the door, I
wait, I always think he's about to walk in. And, you see, I keep on coming to you to
talk about him. Now he's here every day, but he doesn't look at me, he doesn't see
me It's such torment! (3.69-74)

Oh, that is harsh. Astrov is totally snubbing Sonya, and she's in agony. It's hard to imagine that
she can call what she feels "love," because it's absolutely and completely unrequited. We also see
one of the real downsides of love here. Sonya obviously feels deeply for Astrov, but because he
doesn't return the feeling, her love has trapped her. Love is a powerful thing; it can be totally hard
to resist it, even if you know it won't go anywhere. And that's one of Sonya's big problems.

DISSATISFACTION
When it comes down to it, no one in the entire the cast of characters in Uncle Vanya is satisfied with
the way their lives have turned out. From unrequited love to dead-end jobs and
beauty-school-dropout-style laments over personal appearance, everybody is really down in the dumps.

You might think that having a nice country estate to go to and relax, being surrounded by your family,
and living relatively comfortably would all be reasons to just say, "Yeah, life is pretty groovy." But you
would be wrong. These characters are full of inner turmoil and are connected by dysfunctional
relationships.

Questions About Dissatisfaction

27
 1. What do the characters want in the play? How do they reveal their desires to the audience?
2. What does the play's ending have to say about dissatisfaction?
3. Does the play leave any hope that anyone in the world could ever find satisfaction? Why or
why not?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

If only Serebryakov's first wife hadn't died, everyone would be satisfied.

The characters in the play are incapable of satisfaction; even if they all got what they (think) they want,
they'd still be unhappy.

ASTROV: [...] Yes, and this life itself is boring, stupid, dirty It drags one down.
(1.25-26)

Wow, what a way to start the week. Doctor Astrov is not exactly the happiest guy on the planet,
and his assessment of life (boring, stupid, dirty) might have something to do with his profession.
At another point in the play he mentions a patient of his that died, and it seems that these
professional disappointments really get to him and his possibilities for satisfaction.

Quote #2

VOYNITSKY: [...] You've got a retired professor, a dried-up old crust, a scholarly
fish Gout, rheumatism, migraine, a liver bloated from jealousy and envy This
old fish is living on the estate of his first wife, he has to live there because he can't
afford to live in the city. He's always complaining about his misfortunes though in
fact his luck is exceptional. (1.118-23)

Well, tell us how you really feel, Vanya! Our hero doesn't hold back in his assessment of
Serebryakov, and the old, crusty fish's greatest crime seems to be not knowing how good he's got
it. Everyone's working for him, when they could be working for the weekend, but he's too blind to
see it and be happy about it.

Quote #3

VOYNITSKY: [...] At nights I don't sleep from vexation, from anger that I so
foolishly lost the time when I could have had everything that my age now denies me!
(1.225-27)

Vanya could check his pillow, buy a new mattress, and even move Astrov's work desk out of his
bedroom, but we're pretty sure it wouldn't help. His insomnia is rooted in the deep dissatisfaction
he feels when he reflects on his life. He feels that he's too old to make any changes, so the only
thing he does is look back in regret.

VONITSKY: Lovely weather for hanging oneself (1.242)

Okay, Vanya. Save the drama for your mama. His little suicide joke is, as we see throughout the
play, not serious. He doesn't really want to hang himself, but he might like it if someone else, say,

28
 Serebryakov, did so. But the juxtaposition between the common phrase of "lovely weather for"
and the abrupt, unexpected "hanging oneself" is what really gives his sarcastic joke its punch.
Even so, the mention of suicide leaves a bad taste in our mouths. It makes us realize that even
though a lot of what happens is ridiculous and kind of pathetic, there are some serious issues
underneath it all.

Quote #5

SEREBRYAKOV: [...] I want to live, I like success, I like fame, making a noise, and
here it's like being in exile. To pine every minute for the past, to watch the success of
others, to be afraid of death I can't! (2.63-66)

Apparently no one ever told Serebryakov the old saying about "you can wish in one hand". His
wish listfor success, fame, and lifegoes completely unfulfilled. Of course, we'll find out later
that his dissatisfaction lies largely in his finances. He's unable to pay for his fancy city life, so the
country estate really is like an exile for him.

Quote #6

SEREBRYAKOV: No one can sleep, everyone's exhausted, I'm the only one who's
happy. (2.110-11)

Once again we're boarding the Sarcasm Express with these guys. When Serebryakov says that
he's the only one who's happy and compares himself to the other people he's keeping at all hours
taking care of him, he's actually trying to say that he's the least happy of all of them, because of
his illness. Yeah, we know. The kind of joke only a professor would make.

VOYNITSKY:
[...] Here he is in retirement, and now one can see the sum total of his life: not a
single page of his labours will survive him, he's completely unknown, he's nothing! A
soap bubble! I was deceived I see itdeeply deceived (2.202-05)

He's talking about his favorite subject here: Serebryakov loves to hate, but Vanya's also revealing
a lot about himself here. What should he care if Serebryakov is "nothing"? Well, because he has
been riding on Serebryakov's coattails all these years, living vicariously through him and thinking
that it would bring him some kind of satisfaction. Now Vanya must face the hard reality that
everyone must find their own satisfaction.

Quote #8

VOYNITSKY: Age is neither here nor there. When one has no real life, one lives by
mirages. It's still better than nothing. (2.258-59)

Hm. We're not sure about Vanya's idea here. He thinks that it's better to just go through life
believing in false hopes than to face the fact that those hopes are false. He thought he'd be repaid
for his loyalty to Serebryakov, but he was wrong. Maybe he should have faced reality a little
sooner.

29
Quote #9

ASTROV: [...] Like your Uncle Vanya I'm dissatisfied with life, and we're both
becoming grouches. (2.308-09)

What a lovely pair. Poor Sonya is growing up with an elderly, possibly nutty grandma, her
grouchy uncle, and she's chasing after Astrov, equally grouchy, and his love. The two men know
that their unsociable dispositions come from their dissatisfaction but might not realize that they're
passing it on to the next generation, to Sonya.

SONYA: I knew it. One more question. Tell me franklywould you like to have had
a young husband?

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: What a little girl you are still. Of course I would.
[Laughs.] (2.432-35)

This conversation between Sonya and Yelena represents a reconciliation, because up until now
they haven't gotten along too well (not too unusual in the world of stepmothers and
stepdaughters). What's kind of crazy is that when anyone opens up in this play, like they're doing
here, they only reveal how dissatisfied they are with their lives. Also, hold up there: Yelena just
said she'd like to have a young husband. Looks like she's officially got her Facebook profile
linked up to the local FML page, too.

GUILT/BLAME
We'll admit, this category is a little bit funky in Uncle Vanya. The folks in the play are all consumed by
it, but it's not exactly the kind where they feel bad for something they did. No, here the blame is all
about pointing fingers and the guilt is always assigned to others.

Whether they're blaming their dead sister's husband for ruining their lives, blaming him for ruining his
new wife's life, or blaming him for just throwing off the household schedule, people are quick to judge
and slow to reflect on their own responsibilities. And that probably adds a lot to their levels of
dissatisfaction.

Questions About Guilt/Blame

1. If you were a judge and had to put the blame for everyone's unhappiness in Uncle Vanya on
just one character, who would you pick, and why?
2. How does gender enter into the guilt/blame game in Uncle Vanya? Do women seem to blamed
for things that men aren't, and vice versa?
3. Is Vanya being fair in blaming the Professor for his problems?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Vanya saw Serebryakov as his ticket to a new, better life, and blames him for failing to take him to
glory.
Yelena is blamed for attracting men with her beauty, even though it seems to be beyond her control.

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: When you speak of your age your tone is as if we were
all to blame for your being old.

SEREBRYAKOV: You are the first to find me repulsive. (2.27-29)

30
 Serebryakov is acting like a big baby. He's old, sick, and uncomfortable, and doing everything he
can to let everyone know. If he can make them feel miserable while he's at it, even better. Of
course, that's no way to live, and it just makes everyone wish they could avoid him. But ye gods,
his wife had better not actually confirm any of the nasty (but true) things he says about himself.
Sounds like the old geezer is just fishing for complimentsbut compliments he totally doesn't
deserve.

Quote #2

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: How long are you going to be offended with me? We've
done no harm to one another. Why be enemies? Let's stop it (2.394-96)

Yelena is speaking to Sonya here, and her plea, to become friends, is quite a big deal when you
think about how fraught relationships with stepmothers can be. She feels that Sonya is "offended"
with her, but that feeling of guilt or blame seems to be unfounded because they haven't done any
"harm" to each other. Maybe just marrying Sonya's father makes Yelena feel a little guilty toward
the girl. And let's face it: she also probably feels guilty that she's so much hotter than Sonya. It's
kind of nice of her to feel that way, though it doesn't really change anything.

Quote #3

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: Probably some matter of business.

VOYNITSKY: He has none. He writes rubbish, grumbles and is jealous, that's all.
(3.8-10)

Yelena and Vanya want to figure out why Serebryakov, everyone's favorite hater, has called a
family meeting. And of course, Vanya doesn't lose the opportunity to throw some hate on his
rival. His accusations, that Serebryakov has no business, that he's bad at his work, unpleasant, and
also jealous, shows that he blames Serebryakov for his own failures in business and love.

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: [in anger] Leave me in peace! You're so cruel!

(3.44-45)

Yelena accuses Vanya of cruelty because of the way he incessantly tries to get her to love him.
He, of course, would blame her for being so attractive, and for being married to such a horrible
old man; she blames him for not letting her be. It's funny that Vanya never sees what a difficult
position he's putting Yelena in. In a lot of ways, he's just as selfish as old Serebryakov.

Quote #5

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: [taking him by the hand] You don't love her, I can see it
in your eyes She is suffering You must understand that and stop coming here.
(3.211-13)

Talk about mixed messages. Just as she's taking Astrov on a guilt trip for leading Sonya on, she's
leading him on by taking him by the hand. She's also confirming, probably as much for herself as
for Sonya, that he is not interested in the younger girl and blaming him for Sonya's suffering.

31
Quote #6

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: Phew, what an unpleasant conversation! I'm in such a

state I feel I've been carrying a thousand pud load. Well, thank God, it's over.
(3.216-18)

Really, Yelena? A thousand puds? In case you're wondering, a pud, or pood, is a Russian unit of
weight measurement equal to just under 36 pounds. So Yelena's guilt feels like around 18 tons to
her. And why does she feel the weight of a few elephants on her shoulders? Because she's got a
crush on the same guy that her stepdaughter does, she's, ahem, married, and the crush likes her
back.

ASTROV: [...] Please don't look surprised, you know very well why I come here
every day Why and for whom I come, you know full well. Dear predator, don't
look at me like that, I'm an old sparrow (3.231-34)

All the lovey-dovey back-and-forth between Astrov and Yelena has been completely deniable up
until this point. But Astrov has decided to bring it out into the open, naming the feelings they
have for each other, and, while he's at it, blame Yelena for everything. By calling her a "predator"
and himself a "sparrow," he compares them to the wild, animal kingdom, where she's hunting his
poor, innocent self. It's one more way of taking the blame off them: if their love is somehow in
the natural order of things, then they can't very well resist it, right?

Quote #8

SEREBRYAKOV: 'Serebryakov' ? Why are you angry, Vanya?

[A pause.]

If I've offended you in anything, please forgive me. (3.313-15)

Everyone seems to have a beef with at least one other person in this play: Vanya with
Serebryakov, Astrov with Yelena, Sonya with Yelena but Serebryakov is oblivious. In this
exchange, Vanya has called him by his last name, "Serebryakov," instead of being informal and
using his first name. By calling him the informal "Vanya" in return, Serebryakov shows just how
unaware he is of how much Vanya blames him for his failures. This could also be read as
insolence on Serebryakov's part, because it's totally normal for a subordinate (like a student) to
use a formal name and a powerful person (like a teacher) to use the informal name in return. It's
like Serebryakov is asserting his own authority over Vanya, even if that's not what Vanya was
trying to get at in the first place.

Quote #9

VOYNITSKY: [...] You have destroyed my life! I haven't lived, I haven't lived!
Thanks to you I wasted, I destroyed the best years of my life! You are my worst
enemy! (3.435-38)

32
 We beg to differ. Vanya's going nuts, screaming at Serebryakov for destroying his life. But, really,
what did Serebryakov do? Give Vanya clues to his crimes before he committed them, like
the Signaler? Sure, Serebryakov's a selfish jerk, but why didn't Vanya take some responsibility
and live his life? Oh, wait: because nobody in this play does that.

SONYA: [...] You must be merciful! [...] I and Uncle Vanya worked without any rest,
we were afraid to spend a kopeck on ourselves and sent everything to you We
earned our keep! I don't mean that, I'm not saying it right, but you must understand us,
Papa. You must be merciful! (3.468-75)

Sonya echoes her uncle's complaint, but in a completely different way. Where Vanya screams and
yells, Sonya begs for mercy. The thing is, though, she also blames her father for the way their
lives have turned out. Both of them are acting like martyrs and blaming Serebryakov for their
problems, but they refuse to see how their own complacence has entered into the picture.

SACRIFICE
In Uncle Vanya, sacrifice is no noble endeavor where everyone goes home feeling good about what
they've accomplished. Nope. We're talking full on, sighing martyrdom. The younger characters in this
play would put your grandmother to shame with their guilt trips and the "sacrifices" that no one really
asks for or wants.

The big problem, of course, is that even if it doesn't accomplish anything, these folks really have
sacrificed their lives to making the estate work. They live like slaves so the Professor can be
comfortable in the city, but no one gets anything out of it.

Questions About Sacrifice

1. Why do you think Sonya is so willing to sacrifice her life and happiness to the estate?
2. Telegin is one of the characters who defends sacrifice as a noble thing to do; how is he
portrayed in the play, and what does that tell us about his ideas?
3. Sacrifice often goes hand in hand with some kind of appreciation. Does anyone in this play
ever appreciate another character's sacrifice?
4. Do you think that sacrifices must be selfless? Or can you make a sacrifice in the hopes that
you'll get something out of it? Are there any examples of either kind in the play?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Sonya and Vanya are innocents who have sacrificed their lives to Serebryakov.
Vanya believes that he has sacrificed his life to Serebryakov, but actually has sacrificed it to his own
fears.

VOYNITSKY: [...] I used not to have a spare minute, Sonya and I workedmy
goodness, how we worked, and now only Sonya works and I sleep, eat and drink
That's no good! (1.62-65)

It's interesting that Vanya believes that he's the one who has suffered so much, when really Sonya
is the only one we ever see working like Vanya talks about. In fact, Vanya himself is living it up
like Serebryakov and letting his niece work to keep everyone swimming in vodka and tea.

Quote #2

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 TELEGIN: [...] Because of my unprepossessing looks my wife ran off the day after
our wedding with a man she loved. Since then I haven't abandoned my duty. I still
love her and am faithful to her, I help with what I can and have given up my property
for the education of the children she had by the man she loved. I lost my happiness
but I kept my pride. (1.161-66)

Poor Waffle. He, too, has sacrificed his life for someone elsehis horrible wifebut he doesn't
complain about it like Vanya does. In fact, the only reason he brings it up is to show everyone
that it's the right and proper thing to do, nothing to moan about. He associates sacrifice with pride,
while others associate it with loserdom.

Quote #3

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: Yesterday evening he was depressed, complained of

pains in the legs, but today he's all right.

ASTROV: And I killed myself galloping thirty versts. Well, no matter, it's not the
first time. (1.179-82)

An important part of sacrifice is that it is worthwhile. Otherwise it's just, well, a mistake. And
Astrov sees that when he arrives after having run like a maniac to the emergency they called him
for. Serebryakov, supposedly very sick, is actually just fine, and no one seems to appreciate
Astrov's sacrifice.

SEREBRYAKOV: [...] I'm not stupid and I understand. You are young, healthy,
beautiful, you want to live, and I am an old man, almost a corpse. Well? Do you
think I don't understand? And of course it's absurd that I'm still alive. But wait a little
and I'll soon set all of you free. I won't hold out much longer. (2.31-35)

Serebryakov is accused of living off of his daughter, Sonya's, and Vanya's sacrifices, which he
seems completely unaware of. However, he is explicitly asking his wife to sacrifice her youth and
just wait around for him to die. The blindness on the one hand and the awareness here are a
strange contrast, though it's also true that Serebryakov is giving Yelena a Class A guilt trip. It
makes you wonder a little bit whether Yelena really is just waiting around for the old guy to drop.
It might explain a few things, right?

Quote #5

VOYNITSKY: [...] How deceived I was! I worshiped the Professor, that pathetic
victim of gout, worked for him like an ox! Sonya and I squeezed the last juice out of
this estate; we traded like kulaks in vegetable oil and dried peas and curd cheese, we
ourselves hardly had enough to eat in order to make the pennies and kopecks into
thousands and send them to him. (2.194-99)

Ivan's big problem is the disappointment he has experienced. He used to think that by sacrificing
all of his own desires and doing what the Professor asked he would be repaid. He compares
himself to an ox, a strong work animal, and to kulaks, who were the rich peasants in
pre-Revolutionary Russia, to show the difference between how hard he worked and what his
rewards were.

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Quote #6

ASTROV: She has no responsibilities, others work for her It's true, isn't it?
(2.304-05)

The Doctor is talking about Yelena here, and sort of thinking aloud about her character. He hits
the nail on the head about one thing that several people point out over the course of the play. It's
that Yelena doesn't work, but everyone seems to be breaking their backs to try to please her.
Between her and Serebryakov, it's a massacre of sacrifices. It's also not too different from the
situation in Russia in general, with huge masses of people working day and night for the benefit
of a very small number of rich people.

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: [taking him by the hand] You don't love her, I can see it
in your eyes She is suffering You must understand that and stop coming here.
(3.211-13)

Yelena and Astrov are having a tender moment together even while they talk about Sonya and
what Astrov's lack of feelings for her means to her. When Yelena asks him to stop coming over,
ostensibly because it tortures the girl, she's actually making quite a sacrifice because she has
feelings for Astrov and would like him to continue to come.

Quote #8

ASTROV: [...] But if she is suffering, then of course (3.224-25)

Astrov agrees to go along with Yelena's proposal that they sacrifice their own potential
relationship in order to spare Sonya's feelings. The "of course" at the end of the line shows that
Astrov has a strong sense of ethics in certain things, like his friendship with Sonya, and is willing
to sacrifice his own happiness with Yelena to protect it. Also, it's not like he can really have
Yelena, anyway. We highly doubt this lady is going to ditch her hubby or have an affair with a
younger dude, even if she wants to. She's way too careful about the rules for that. So maybe
Astrov's sacrifice isn't so huge in the end.

Quote #9

VOYNITSKY: [...] This estate would not have been bought if I had not given up my
inheritance in favour of my sister, whom I dearly loved. What's more, I worked like
an ox for ten years and paid off the entire mortgage... (3.388-91)

This is incredible. Can you imagine doing what Vanya did for one of your siblings? He threw his
own inheritance in with his sister's so that she would have enough to marry Serebryakov and had
to take out a mortgage on top of things to pay the whole estate off. He himself paid the mortgage
for the house that his sister and Serebryakov lived in. He must have had some motivation for
making this sacrifice, but the payoff just wasn't there.

VOYNITSKY: For twenty-five years I've managed this estate, worked, sent you
money like the most conscientious steward and over that whole time you haven't
thanked me once. The whole timeboth when I was young and nowI've been

35
 getting a salary of five hundred roubles a year from youa beggar's wageand you
haven't once thought of increasing my salary by a single rouble! (3.402-08)

This accusation is a little bit tricky, because just before Vanya had claimed that he had made a
huge, conscious sacrifice for his sister. Here, though, he's expecting Serebryakov to notice the
sacrifice and reward it. The fact that his sister has died makes it pretty much impossible for him
to ever get his due.

DRUGS AND ALCOHOL

The vodka consumption, along with the medicines that Serebryakov needs for his gout, are heavy
in Uncle Vanya. The fact that people who use drugs and alcohol in the play, namely Astrov and
Serebryakov, are completely dependent on them shows us the attitude that Chekhov takes toward them.
No groovy parties here; drugs and alcohols are for weak people.

Astrov's dependence on vodka comes across as a weakness, because he often says he doesn't want any
vodka and very soon after shows up with a glass. The Professor has no shame about his medicine, but
none of it really seems to help him so he too is a weak character, beaten down by his illness and pain.

Questions About Drugs and Alcohol

1. Vodka is strongly associated with Russia; do you think that Chekhov is trying to tell us
something about the nation through Astrov's vodka consumption? What might it be?
2. Only men drink in the play, while women try to stop them. What can this tell us about gender
relations in pre-Revolutionary Russia?
3. Why do you think that Vanya steals Astrov's morphine? What will he do with it?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Drugs and alcohol signify weakness in Uncle Vanya.

Rather than telling the truth, the characters who drink or take drugs seem to lie to themselves and those
around them.

MARINA: Perhaps you'd like a little vodka?

ASTROV: No. I don't drink vodka every day. And it's so close today (1.8-9)

Marina is a caring figure, so when she offers Astrov vodka it's like a grandma offering her
grandchildren their favorite dessert. And his answer proves to be a lie, because he drinks in every
act of the play. We're a little puzzled by the last line, "and it's so close today" maybe he's so
close to reaching his goal of going without vodka for a whole day?

Quote #2

ASTROV: [...] [To the workman] Be a good chap and bring me a glass of vodka.
(1.262-63)

And there he goes. Astrov has just been asked to come assist someone medically, and his first
order of business is to order up a glass of vodka. Maybe it's to warm him up, but it's summertime.

36
 Maybe he'll use it to sterilize his hands, but we've got a feeling it's more of a numbing agent, if
you catch our drift.

Quote #3

SEREBRYAKOV: It's stuffy Sonya, give me the drops on the table!

SONYA: Here. [Gives him the drops.]

SEREBRYAKOV: [crossly] No, not these! One can't ask for anything! (2.82-85)

Serebryakov's grouchiness isn't usually directed at his daughter but here, in the night, his pain is
getting the best of him. The medicine that should help him isn't coming as quick as he likes, and
it's probably his discomfort that makes him snap at her. Either way, he is acting like someone
who is dependent on the drugs.

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: So you've been drinking again today? Why?

VOYNITSKY: At least it offers one something like life Don't stop me, Hlne!

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: You never used to drink, and you never used to talk so
much Go to bed! I'm bored with you. (2.171-76)

Through this exchange, we can see that the relationship between Yelena and Vanya used to be
good. She says "you never used to" as though he really used to be a different person. And now
he is someone who needs to drink because he feels as though he doesn't have a life. That means a
pretty big change has occurred.

Quote #5

ASTROV: [....] [Inspects the bottles on the table.] Medicines. What a lot of
prescriptions! From Kharkov and Moscow and Tula He's plagued every city with
his gout. Is he mill or malingering? (2.219-22)

Kharkov, Moscow, and Tula were all important cities in Russian territory (Kharkov is in Ukraine).
Serebryakov is getting his medicine from all the regional capitals, which could mean that his
sickness is hard to cure and he's had to go to lots of doctors, or that he likes his drugs and spreads
out of his doctor visits to get more prescriptions.

Quote #6

ASTROV: [...] You see, I'm drunk too. I usually get this drunk once a month. When
I'm in this condition, I become extremely aggressive and ambitious. I can do anything
then! I take on the most difficult operations and do them perfectly; I draw up the
grandest plans for the future; I don't then think myself an eccentric, and I can believe
I am bringing colossal benefits to mankindcolossal! (2.235-41)

37
 He's the King of the World. Astrov feels like he can do anything when he drinks vodka till he's
drunk, which he does about once a month. We can extrapolate that the rest of the time he must
not feel that way, otherwise he wouldn't get drunk. So we can further conclude that Astrov feels
powerless, and that's why he drinks.

SONYA: Drink yourself, if it doesn't revolt you, but I beg you, don't let my uncle
drink. It's bad for him.

ASTROV: All right. We won't drink any more. (2.275-77)

Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes is getting in everybody's business again. Sonya seems to feel
responsible for everyone around her, from her father to her uncle, and this request to stop her
uncle is really falling on deaf ears, because Astrov himself is a big drinker. Maybe, just maybe,
it's an excuse to talk to him, and she doesn't really care that much about Uncle Vanya, though
that's a big maybe.

Quote #8

ASTROV: You took a jar of morphine from my travelling medicine chest.

[A pause.]

Look, if you are absolutely set on committing suicide, then go into the woods and
shoot yourself. But give back the morphine or there'll be talk and conjecture and
people will think that I gave it to you (4.124-30)

Morphine is a powerful painkiller that can be addictive. If you use too much of it, which is easy
to do because its effects are quite nice, it can kill. So Astrov concludes that the only thing Vanya
must want with the drug is to commit suicide. And he's pretty much right. We've already seen that
drugs and alcohol make it easier for the characters who take them to ignore their problems and do
nothing. But here we can see that drugs and alcohol are also linked with death, so Chekhov is
saying that ignoring your problems and drinking the pain away is like death because it's basically
giving up your life.

Quote #9

SONYA: Give it back. Why do you frighten us? [Tenderly] Give it back, Uncle
Vanya! I may be no less unhappy than you, but I don't become desperate. I endure
and will endure until my life comes to a natural end You must endure. (4.141-44)

Sonya is talking about the morphine that her uncle stole when she tells him to give "it" back. Like
Astrov, she concludes that he will be using it to end his life, not for recreational purposes. And
her plea that he continue and "endure" is really the target of the great criticism that Chekhov is
offering through the play. Their lives are meaningless, painful, and useless, but they just continue
to live them.

MARINA: So you're going without having tea?

38
 ASTROV: I don't want any, Nyanya.

MARINA: Perhaps you'd like some vodka?

ASTROV: [indecisively] Maybe (4.303-06)

The play ends like it began, with Marina offering Astrov some delicious vodka and Astrov acting
like he has the power to say no. Of course that "maybe" goes along with Marina's "perhaps," but
they both know that the answer is a solid yes, no two ways about it.

PASSIVITY
The big problem all the characters have in Uncle Vanya is that they are unhappy with their lives. Some
of them had big dreams that just didn't work out, like that they would be musicians, famous scholars, in
love and married, or just plain rich. The reason, in the end, that they didn't get what they wanted is their
fatalistic attitude toward life.

Rather than taking the bull by the horns, all of the characters just let life happen to them. They never
take action and never make decisions. Instead they just see what life brings and then complain about it.
If you ask Chekhov (and us, to be frank), that's no way to live.

Questions About Passivity

1. What does the final scene have to tell us about passivity?

2. Is there any moment in the play where, if someone would just take a direct action rather than
being passive, things might turn out differently?
3. Do you think that Serebryakov and Yelena have the same passive attitudes as the country
people, or are they immune to it?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

The play criticizes attitudes of passivity toward life.

In the play, the characters have no way of changing their realities.

MARIYA VASILYEVNA: [to her son] You're just blaming your former beliefs for
something But they're not to blame, you are. You forget that beliefs alone are
nothing, a dead letter What you needed was action. (1.229-32)

Mariya doesn't appear much in the play, but when she is allowed to speak, she lays the smack
down. Speaking to her son, Vanya, she tells it like it is: that he had the chance to change his life,
if he had taken action, but he didn't. In other words, you made your bed, now lie in it.

Quote #2

VOYNITSKY: If you could see your face, your movements What indolence you
have towards life! Ah, what indolence! (1.343-44)

Speaking to Yelena, Vanya picks on her "indolence," which is another word for laziness and
passivity. According to Vanya, Yelena doesn't take any action, but rather has a passive attitude
toward life. She doesn't make anything happen but just lets it happen to her instead.

Quote #3

39
 SONYA: [shrugging her shoulders] There's plenty to do. You just need to want to.

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: For instance?

SONYA: Help run the estate, teach, treat the sick. Is that not enough? When Papa
and you weren't here, Uncle Vanya and I ourselves went to market to sell the flour.

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: I can't. And it isn't interesting. (3.18-24)

Hey, here's some activity! Sonya seems to be the only one who does anything in the whole play,
but she just doesn't have the powers of persuasion to get anyone to join her. It's like she tells
Yelena, "you just need to want to." And no one seems to want to. They would rather complain
than lift a finger.

SONYA: [...] You're bored, you can't find a role for yourself, and boredom and
inactivity are infectious. Look: Uncle Vanya does nothing and just follows you round
like a shadow, I've left my work and come running to you to talk. I've got lazy, I can't
do it! (3.30-34)

Sonya isn't the only one to notice that Yelena is kind of like a black hole, sucking everyone into
her lazy way of being. She seems to think of the passivity as a contagious disease, that everyone
is catching from her stepmother. And perhaps it's true; maybe if Serebryakov and Yelena showed
up in a flurry of activity everyone else would be inspired.

Quote #5

SONYA: [...] No, uncertainty is better There's still hope (3.104-05)

When Sonya asks her stepmother to help her find out whether Astrov has feelings for her, it
seems like a reasonable request, even if it's something most of us stopped doing in junior high.
But what's really weird is her statement after they've made their plan: she'd rather not know,
because then she can still fool herself with hope rather than have her answer. It's living in a
fantasy world, plain and simple.

Quote #6

ASTROV: We have here a decline, which is the consequence of an impossible

struggle for existence; a degeneration arising from stagnation, ignorance, a total lack
of self-awareness [...]. (3.179-82)

Astrov's diagnosis isn't for a person, it's for society in general. And according to him, the social
sickness is basically passivity. The lack of knowledge and self-awareness means that people are
stagnant, like a smelly, old pond. Their lack of action causes the "decline" that Astrov is talking
about.

40
 MARIYA VASILYEVNA: Jean, don't contradict Aleksandr. Believe me, he knows
what's good and what's bad for us better than we do. (3.370-71)

We were starting to like Mariya, but then she goes and says something like this. Anyone who
would sign their entire life over to someone else, control over everything from the amount of
grocery money they have to whether or not they have a place to live, is not really in charge of
their own destiny.

Quote #8

VOYNITSKY: [...] You have destroyed my life! I haven't lived, I haven't lived!
Thanks to you I wasted, I destroyed the best years of my life! You are my worst
enemy! (3.434-38)

Vanya, Vanya, Vanya. He's so melodramatic, so sure of his accusations against Serebryakov, that
he's completely unable to see his own responsibility in what's happening in his life. He doesn't
realize that his own passivity, his going with the flow rather than making real decisions, is what
makes him his own worst enemy.

Quote #9

TELEGIN: [...] So, Marina Timofeyevna, they were fated not to live here. Fated A
disposition of fate. (4.22-23)

Telegin and Marina are minor characters who don't truly intervene in the play's action. But this
attitude that they're displaying here, where they are happy that Serebryakov and Yelena are gone
but see it as a matter of fate rather than a result of a series of actions, shows the passivity that
burns Chekhov up.

SONYA: [...] You've known no joys in your life, but wait, Uncle Vanya, wait We
shall rest [Hugs him.] We shall rest! (4.358-60)
Okay, just so you know, "rest" is basically code for "die". Sonya is telling her uncle that if he'll
just wait around and keep doing what he's always done, which has made him completely unhappy,
someday, when he's dead, he'll finally be at peace. This is the end of the play, so it's a really
hard-hitting portrait of a passive mindset. (utvreni set stavova)

MAN AND THE NATURAL WORLD

Our main representative character for this theme will be the good Doctor Astrov, a physician who's
kind of a part-time forest ranger in his spare time. He's obsessed with the ill effects that
industrialization is having on the Russian forests, and works to try to protect the woods and the general
environment from people who would rather burn or build with wood than just enjoy it.

It's important to see that as a Realist play, Uncle Vanya doesn't use nature as a sort of magical, handy
barometer for how everyone is feeling, like the Romantics used to do. However, the constant
destruction, and the people's lack of a reaction to it, does show us something about the society that
Chekhov is portraying.

Questions About Man and the Natural World

41
 1. Why do you think that Astrov is so obsessed with the environment?
2. What are Astrov's proposals for saving the forest?
3. What does the general societal attitude toward the environment tell us about the characters in
the play?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Just like the Russians who are cutting down the forests with no regard to the consequences,
Serebryakov lives off of the country estate without worrying about the effect on the people who live
there.
Astrov's obsession is really about the decline of humanity, but he focuses on the forest because it's
something he can actually try to save.

TELEGIN: Marina Timofeyevna, whether I'm driving in the fields or walking in the
shade of the garden or looking at this table, I feel inexpressible happiness! The
weather is delightful, the little birds are singing, we all live in peace and concord
what more could we want? (1.985-102)

Hardy har har. Don't make us laugh, Waffle. Obviously, this line that comes so early in the play is
ironic. It's like the little birdies singing just before the hunters come and kill Bambi's mom (oh,
spoiler alert). But Telegin's idea that everything is well has to do with his connection to nature; a
connection that the unhappy people in the play just don't have.

Quote #2

ASTROV: [...] [To Yelena Andreyevna] I'll be really pleased if you and Sofya
Aleksandrovna come and see me some time. I've a little place, just thirty desyatinas,
but if you're interested, I have a first-rate garden and you won't find a nursery like
mine within a thousand versts. Next door is the state forest The forester there is old
and always ill, so in practice I run it all. (1.267-72)

First of all, an FYI. A desyatina is a unit of area measure, so Astrov has something like 81 acres
of land. And versts are a unit of length pretty close to a kilometer. Anyway, he's using his own
connection to nature to try to woo Yelena. It's not just his ownership of the land, but also his
management and knowledge of it that he sees as strong points.

Quote #3

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: [to Astrov] You're still a young man, you lookwell,
thirty-six, thirty-sevenand it can't be as interesting as you say. Just trees and trees.
Monotonous, I would think. (1.285-87)

And here comes the screeching halt to all that nice talk about nature we were getting from
Telegin and Astrov. Yelena tells it like it is, which is boring, in her eyes anyway. So her
connection to nature, as a city woman, is basically nil. This is one way we learn that Yelena is the
sort of listless, lazy woman who is easily bored.

42
 SONYA: No, it's extraordinarily interesting. Every year Mikhail Lvovich plants new
woods and he's already been given a bronze medal and a diploma. He campaigns
against the destruction of old forests. If you listen to him you'll find yourself in
complete agreement with him. He says that forests embellish the earth, they teach
man to understand beauty, they inspire ideals in him. (1.288-93)

Well, it's hearsay, but Astrov is standing right there as Sonya puts words in his mouth and he
doesn't protest. So we can assume that this characterization is what Astrov thinks, and he's really
putting a lot of pressure on nature, to make human beings better people. We hope Mother Nature's
up to it.

Quote #5

VOYNITSKY: [laughing] Bravo, bravo!... All that is charming but unconvincing, so

[to Astrov], my friend, you must let me go on stoking stoves with logs and building
sheds of wood. (1.300-02)

And here comes Vanya to spoil the mood, as usual. After the high-minded idea that nature can
make everyone better, and probably even better-looking, that Sonya and Astrov put forward,
Vanya stamps all over it, ready to burn down the forest like there's no tomorrow. Says just a little
bit about his character.

Quote #6

ASTROV: [...W]hen I go past the peasants' woods, which I saved from destruction,
or when I hear the hum of my young trees, which I planted with my own hands, I
know the climate is a little in my control and that if in a thousand years man is happy,
the responsibility for that will in a small way be mine. (1.319-23)

We're getting down to the heart of the matter, which is that Astrov thinks that by saving nature,
and taking part in the conservation of the forest, he's having a real, lasting effect on the world. It's
the kind of effect he can't get in his practice as a medical doctor, where patients may die and will
be forgotten thousands of years from now. It's also interesting that all of his attention, at least as
far as making lasting changes is concerned, is directed toward nature and not toward the people
around him at this house. They're sure not changing, after all. We guess.

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: [...] As Astrov said just now: all of you are mindlessly
destroying the forests and soon there'll be nothing left on earth. In the same way you
mindlessly destroy a man, and soon thanks to you the earth will have neither loyalty,
nor purity, nor the capacity for self-sacrifice. (1.348-52)

Yelena uses the forest as a metaphor for a person, who can be cut down so much that he or she
can never grow back. She thinks that Vanya is too cruel, and that he will destroy the Professor
with his hatred until there will be no redeeming qualities left in the way the two treat each other.

Quote #8

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 VOYNITSKY: The rain will pass now and all nature will be refreshed and give a
gentle sigh. I alone will not be refreshed by the storm. [...] My feelings are going to
waste, like a ray of sunshine falling into a chasm, and I myself am going to waste.
(2.128-37)

You're invited to Uncle Vanya's pity party, starting right now. Vanya compares his state of mind
to the environment surrounding him. While nature is refreshed by the rain, he is inconsolable
because Yelena won't return his love. Finally, he uses a simile to compare his feelings to light that
is just swallowed up, never reaching the plants that need it because of the depths of the chasm.
That's his love, going to waste on the fickle Yelena.

Quote #9

SONYA: The hay is all cut, it rains every day, everything is rottingand you're
occupied with mirages. (2.260-61)

Sonya is the only one who seems to have any sort of practical relationship with the natural world.
She's a country girl, in the end, and knows that no one will be eating if the growing and
harvesting doesn't all go right. The rain isn't some cutesy refreshing shower for her; it's the enemy
that won't let her hay dry out.

ASTROV: [...] And when they don't know what label to stick to my forehead, they
say 'He's a strange man, strange!' I love foreststhat's strange; I don't eat
meatthat's strange too. They have no direct, clean, free relationship with nature and
with people None, none! (2.332-36)

Aha. So Astrov really just spends all his time making relationships with the trees in the forest
because he basically hates his fellow human beings. He obviously feels ethically tied to nature,
because he loves forests and won't eat meat. And his criticism toward others has to do with the
way that they deal with nature (first) and (then) people, which shows us his priorities.

CHARACTERS

IVAN PETROVICH VOYNITSKY, (UNCLE VANYA)

I'm a Loser, Baby

Poor Uncle Vanya. He's got it rough. But what's not so rough for us is that if we can understand his
character, we will get the point of the whole play. First of all, he's the title character, so Chekhov is
telling us that he's kind of a big deal.

But right off the bat we notice that he's also kind of pathetic. He's been asleep all morning, he doesn't
work, and he just gripes about his more successful brother-in-law all day. Keep that in mind as we
unpack Ivan Petrovich Voynitsky, because the idea of putting a mediocre character front and center and
the play's protagonist is important for what Chekhov is trying to do.

And what is Chekhov trying to do? We'll get into this a little more in our "Genre" section, but for now,
take it from us: Chekhov wants to show everyday life in all its boring, minute detail. There are no epic
heroes or nasty villains here. Chekhov's characters are way ordinary. They're real people in real
situations, and for better or worse, they act pretty much like you'd expect real people to act in those
situations.

During the second half the 19th century, Realism was all the rage in Russia. This was partly a reaction
against Romanticism, which was all about high-class fancies and their highfalutin' dramas. Realist

44
writers were into the nitty-gritty of everyday life. They tried to show normal folks from different social
classes and different regions, and they tried to explore the important social issues of their time.

You might know some other famous Russian realists like Tolstoy or Dostoevsky or Turgenev. These
dudes are famous for their gigantic novels with huge casts of fascinating characters. Have you
seen War and Peace? Over 1,000 pages of hot Russian Realism. Now, Chekhov wrote toward the end
of the Realist period, and what made him different from the other big guys was that he wrote plays and
short stories instead of huge epic novels. His stuff doesn't usually have big, huge conflicts or
larger-than-life characters. Instead, a Chekhov story or play is more like a snapshot of everyday life.
Just like in real life, not a lot actually happens.

Just Somebody's Uncle Johnny

So, who is this Uncle Vanya guy, anyway, and why is he the one being used to show us the reality of
everyday life in rural Russia? First off, we know him by his relationships. In the list of characters at the
beginning of the play, he's identified as Mariya's son. And since she's the mother of Serebryakov's first
wife, we figure that Vanya is Serebryakov's brother-in-law.

Also, since Sonya is Serebryakov's daughter by his first marriage, that makes Vanya her uncle. So the
title designation of "uncle" has to do with the relationship between Sonya and Vanya.

The fact that Chekhov didn't name the play "Ivan Petrovich" or "Voynitsky" or even "Vanya" but chose
instead to include "Uncle" in the title tells us that a big, fat chunk of Vanya's character analysis will be
based on his relationships to other characters. His personality, for the title, is limited by his relationship
to Sonya. Chekhov doesn't even let the guy own the play that's named after him.

And what does that tell us? Well, for starters, it shows us that Vanya isn't really a hero or a self-made
man or any of those independent-minded things that make a main character interesting. He's just
somebody's uncle. Of course, we love uncles as much as the next website, but if you have a choice
between being saved by Superman or by Uncle Larry, who would you pick? See what we mean?

That Professor Ruined My Life

This play is about mediocrity, the impossibility of change, and unrequited love. It's about a whole lot of
dissatisfaction rolled up into a dreary, so-sad-it's-funny play. And Uncle Vanya is at the center of all
this dissatisfaction.

He's in love with Yelena, who rejects him. He hates Serebryakov but completely depends on him. He
hasn't done anything with his life, but he's convinced that he could have. He's the star of the show
because Chekhov is criticizing exactly this type of mediocre, passive, unsatisfying life. And Vanya's
lack of satisfaction has a lot to do with his relationships. (We're getting somewhere, just stay with us.)

So what's Vanya so upset and dissatisfied about? This is where the relationships come in. He's ticked
off that his late sister's husband has all the money, glory, and women, while he's a sap who stayed at
home to do all the work and support Serebryakov's lifestyle. That's it in one sad, bummed-out nutshell.

Let's look a little closer at Vanya's troubles with Serebryakov. In Act One, we see how much
Serebryakov influences Vanya's life, even down to when he sleeps and eats:

VOYNITSKY: [...] [Yawns.] Ever since the Professor came to live here with his wife, my life has left
its trackI go to sleep at the wrong time, for lunch and dinner I eat all kinds of rich dishes, I drink
wine that's all unhealthy. I used not to have a spare minute, Sonya and I worked my goodness, how
we worked, and now only Sonya works and I sleep, eat and drink That's no good! (1.59-65)

We know that having company throws things off, but Vanya seems totally thrown off by the visitors.
He's used to getting up early and working all day, being very careful about expenses, and sending all
the estate's profits to Serebryakov. These intrusive city folk determine when he goes to sleep, when he
eats, what he eats (which turns out to be unhealthy) and also whether or not he works. That's pretty
powerful stuff.

45
(Serebryakov, on the other hand, sleeps in, stays up late, eats whenever he wants, and lives off the hard
work of his daughter and brother-in-law. That just highlights the city mouse/country mouse differences
that are also a source of the conflict in the "coming soon" Russian Revolution. (More on that here.))

So Vanya is none too thrilled about these people getting all up in his space. It makes him think about
how lame his life is, and it brings to mind all the shoulda woulda couldas that haunt him. He argues
with his mother about Serebryakov, because she dotes on Vanya's rival:
VOYNITSKY: [...] At nights I don't sleep from vexation, from anger that I so foolishly lost the time
when I could have had everything that my age now denies me! (1.225-27)

Now, it would be one thing if Vanya were just ticked off that he'd wasted his life and decided to get
some workout DVDs and stop eating so much. Unfortunately, he blames all of his troubles on the
Professor. That's what we mean when we say that his relationships determine his dissatisfaction.

When he says that he "foolishly lost the time," he means that he spent his life working for Serebryakov
instead of for himself. Vanya gets so angry about this he can't even sleep. He sure can eat and drink,
though.

Unrequited Love
Serebryakov's success makes Vanya feel like a loser in comparison. Vanya's relationship with Yelena,
the young, beautiful second wife of Serebryakov, shows us another aspect of his depressed personality.
Really, Ivan's love for Yelena is part of his jealousy for Serebryakov; it's not exactly personal.
Listen to him complain about his brother-in-law's moves:

VOYNITSKY: Yes, I envy him! And he's so successful with women! [...] His first wife, my sister, a
lovely meek creature [...]. His mother-in-law, my mother, still worships him and he still inspires her
with a holy awe. His second wife, a beauty, a woman with a mind you just saw her married him
when he was already old, gave him her youth, beauty, freedom, brightness. For what? Why? (1.140-49)

Did you notice that every time Vanya mentions one of Serebryakov's women, he immediately mentions
how these women are related to him? "His first wife, my sister," says Vanya, and "His mother-in-law,
my mother." It's like Vanya is constantly comparing himself to Serebryakov, who is constantly stealing
his women. Serebryakov actually wins these women; Vanya has to keep reminding everybody that
they're related to him.
Of course, Vanya can't say "my" anything about Yelena, Serebryakov's second wife, because she's not
"his." But, boy, does he wish she were. He goes on and on about how awesome Yelena is: young, hot,
smart, everything he could want. The fact that he will say all of this in front of other people shows that
he's kind of lost his mind. Talking like that about someone else's wife isn't exactly socially acceptable.

Vanya's relationship with Yelena herself is kind of like Charlie Brown and the little red-haired girl. He
tries and tries, but she's just not that into him. We admit, it's kind of hard to see why anyone would be
into him, since all he does is complain. Even just a few seconds after he kisses Yelena's hand and calls
her "My darlingwonderful woman!" (2.177), he starts talking smack about her behind her back:

VOYNITSKY: I used to meet her ten years ago at my sister's. She was seventeen then and I was
thirty-seven. Why didn't I fall in love with her then and propose to her? I could have quite easily!
And she would now be my wife. [...] Why am I old? Why doesn't she understand me? Her rhetoric, her
lazy moral strictures, her pointless, lazy thinking about the end of the world I find all that deeply
hateful. (2.182-92)
See what we mean?

Vanya goes from head-over-heels love for Yelena to hatred of her in one single monologue. No wonder
he can't get a date. Vanya knows that Yelena is totally off-limits, but since she is hooked up with
Serebryakov, he goes for her. Instead of going after what he says he wants, which is freedom and
enough money to be independent, he goes after exactly what he can't have.

46
So basically Vanya's stuck because he's just not going to do anything to help himself out. While a
bunch of other characters share this defeatist attitude, it reaches its peak in Vanya, who's the biggest
bummer of them all. He's stuck in the past, dissatisfied with his present, and unable or unwilling to
change his future.

A Shot in the Dark

The climax, or anti-climax, of the play revolves around Vanya. He's so worked up about Serebryakov's
proposal to sell the estate that he decides to kill his former brother-in-law. But remember how we were
saying that Vanya is unsatisfied and passive, pretty much mediocre? Well, this moment is a perfect
definition for him as a character. Why?

You guessed it. He misses.

But, hey, wait. It gets better. He misses twice.

The old boy takes his first shot off-stage, but soon he and Yelena appear onstage, struggling. Of course,
given that Yelena is a woman, and that we're talking 19th century, the fact that a girl is the one fighting
him shows just how weak he is.

Now, Vanya does manage to win this wrestling match by shaking off Yelena. He's still got the gun, and
now he goes running after Serebryakov again. So it's almost like he might follow through with a real
action after all, right?
Wrong. Get a load of this:

VOYNITSKY: [...] Where is he? There he is! [Shoots at him.] Bang!

[A pause.]

Haven't I hit him? Missed again? [Angrily] The devil, devildevil take you.

[Hurls the revolver on the floor and sits down on a chair exhausted.] (3.431-36)

Yup, you read that righthe actually says "Bang!" And then, when he misses the second time, he just
gives up. We get the feeling that he didn't really want to kill Serebryakov at all. Just like his quest for
Yelena's love, he knows that he won't succeed and actually doesn't really try.
You could say that this is a turning point for the play and for Vanya's life. It's the moment where
something BIG could have happened. We mean, hey: that was attempted murder, right? That's some
big stuff. But nothing big does happen. All of these peopleespecially Vanyacomplain a lot, but
their fear of change hold them back from actually making an effort, taking a risk, and making
improvements.

Now, Russia hadn't yet gone through its revolution, but people there were getting pretty discontent with
poverty, class differences, and the system of imperial government. The play is kind of a microcosm of
that frustration, with the lazy rich living off of the hard-working poor, but the hard-working poor just
accepting their way of life without doing anything to change it. Of course, we just have to wait until
1917 and things will get wild, but around this time, in the late 1890s, things were just kind of
stagnating and not going anywhere.

TIMELINE AND SUMMARY

Vanya is irritated because Serebryakov and Yelena have come to stay, throwing off his
schedule.
Vanya argues with his mother because she defends Serebryakov against his insults.
Vanya tries to tell Yelena that he loves her, but she won't listen to him.

47
 At night, Vanya offers to stay with Serebryakov so that Yelena and Sonya can get some sleep.
When Yelena and Sonya refuse Vanya's offer, he ends up alone with Yelena and tries again to
woo her.
Vanya is drunk, and Yelena leaves him alone. He and Astrov chat about women, and then he
talks to Sonya about the hopelessness of life.
Vanya brings Yelena a bouquet of roses, but walks in on Astrov trying to kiss her.
Just then, Serebryakov announces that he wants to sell the estate, which is Vanya's breaking
point. He runs offstage, and when Serebryakov follows him fires a shot.
Vanya tries again to shoot Serebryakov, but fails.
Vanya steals some morphine from Astrov but gives it back at Sonya's prodding.
When everyone leaves, Vanya settles in to working on the estate's accounts, just like he used
to before Serebryakov came to interrupt his life.

YELENA ANDREYEVNA, (HLNE, LENOCHKA)

Gossip Girl
A lot of what we know about Yelena Andreyevna, the wife of Serebryakov, we learn from what other
people say about her. She's kind of a mysterious figure, because she's the newest addition to the family,
so of course everyone has an opinion about her. Also, she's a woman, and at this time and place women
just aren't expected to speak for themselves.

This outsider position, of course, puts her right in every busybody's sights. And everyone seems to
have an opinion. Let's just go down the list.
First up: Vanya. Uncle Vanya, as we mentioned in his character analysis, is cuckoo for Yelena.

VOYNITSKY: But how lovely she is! How lovely! in all my life I've never seen such a beautiful
woman! (1.96-97)

Got that? She's pretty, a looker, hot stuff, smokin' the play is full of references to just how sexy
Yelena is, and it drives all the country folk wild. Of course, the fact that she's married to the big-shot
Serebryakov just makes her that much more attractive. Why? Because she's off-limits.

Next, we got Astrov. Vanya's not the only one who notices Yelena's good looks. Doctor Astrov is also
into Yelena, but he's wondering if maybe her beauty is only skin deep.

ASTROV: A human being should be beautiful all through: face and clothes and spirit and thoughts.
She is beautiful, no question about that, but she just eats, sleeps, walks, enchants us all with her
beautyand that's all. She has no responsibilities, others work for her It's true, isn't it? And an idle
life can't be a virtuous one. (2.301-06)

Astrov echoes the worries and accusations of Marina, Vanya, and Sonya when he wonders whether or
not Yelena's complete and utter lack of activity might reflect badly on her character. You know what
they say idle hands are the devil's workshop. It makes you wonder, too, if she and Serebryakov have
maybe a little too much in common. Two idlers mooching off of everyone else and causing trouble
wherever they go? Sounds like a great couple.
Finally, we'll hear from Sonya. Yelena's stepdaughter (who can't be too much younger than she is) is no
gossip; she says what she thinks to Yelena's face. She's pretty much like, "Hey, Yelena, you're kind of a
lazy bum, don't you think?"

SONYA: [...] You're bored, you can't find a role for yourself, and boredom and inactivity are infectious.
Look: Uncle Vanya does nothing and just follows you round like a shadow, I've left my work and come
running to you to talk. [...] Doctor Mikhail Lvovich used to visit us very seldom, once a month, it was
difficult to persuade him, but now he drives over here every day [...] You must be a
sorceress. (3.30-37)

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Sonya's trying to be nice, but she's got a point about Yelena's power to screw up everyone else's life.
The combination of her beauty and her idleness make her a deadly element for the hardworking,
love-starved people in the play. As Sonya so charitably puts it, maybe she's just a witch.

Speak for Yourself

Of course, you can't just trust what other people say about Yelena. She's got her own mind. And we
can't help but think that everyone's a little bit hard on her. Seriously, just because she and Serebryakov
sleep in and stay up late, does that really mean that everyone else is magically forced to do so too?

When we hear her side of the story, we find out why Yelena is the way she is. For one thing, she calls
out Vanya for macking on her when she's a married woman:

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: Ah yes, indolence and boredom! Everyone criticizes my husband,

everyone looks at me with pity: unhappy woman, she has an old husband! That sympathy I
understand it well! [...] Why can't you look at a woman neutrally if she isn't yours? (1.345-53)

Oh, snap! Yelena is pointing out that everyone sees her not as an independent human being, but in
relationship to the men around her. Either they pity her for having an old, grouchy husband, or they
desire her for themselves. Or both, which is the path that Vanya takes.

People keep dissing Yelena for her lazy attitude, but she explains why she hasn't made the effort to
meet the people at the country estate, and it's kind of a doozy:
YELENA ANDREYEVNA: [...] Sonya is obviously attracted by [Astrov]; she is in love with him and I
understand her. Since I came he's already been here three times, but I'm shy and I haven't talked with
him as I should, I haven't been nice to him. He thinks I'm ill-natured. (1.359-62)

Wait a minute Yelena understand why Sonya is in love with the Astrov. Does that mean that she is
attracted to him as well? Hey, why not. We know she's unhappy with that the old grouch Serebryakov.
But she's not going to be a bad wife and go after Astrov, and she's not going to betray Sonya, who has
just confessed her love for Astrov and asked for Yelena's help.

This little comment basically goes by unnoticed by all the other characters, maybe because they don't
imagine that Yelena, someone's wife, might have feelings, or maybe because they don't care about her
feelings. By trying to do the honorable thing, though, Yelena shows that for all her other faults, she's at
least got a little more backbone than most of the other characters in the play.
Speaking of that marriage, though: why did Yelena marry old Serebryakov, anyway? She's not
particularly happy with him, and as she tells Sonya, she'd totally go for a younger man:

SONYA: I knew it. One more question. Tell me franklywould you like to have had a young husband?

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: What a little girl you are still. Of course I would. [Laughs.] (2.432-35)

So why did she do it? Did she have to? Was she wowed by Serebryakov's fame and fortune? It's
unclear, but it's hard to imagine that she had no other options. Sonya is an example of a young woman
trying to choose her own husband; Yelena could probably do this, too. So it's hard not to see her
predicament as at least partly the result of her own doing.

Now, Yelena may be mysterious, but she does give us hints about what she's thinking, and she even
turns out to be the bravest character in the play, fending off the gun-slinging Vanya and fighting him
for the pistol. The fact that everyone treats her like a doll, something to fight over, shows us a lot about
the position of women on the eve of the 20th century in Russia. They don't have much will or agency
of their own and are seen as possessions, something that can be passed between owners, er, husbands.

But still, if Yelena is so unhappy, why doesn't she change her life? How much control does she have
over her circumstances? Let's not forget that another lady in the play, good old Mariya Vasilyevna, is
totally into radical politics, which means that kind of thing was in the air. And it's true that there was a
lot of experimentation going on in Russia at that time, with people trying out different kinds of
relationships and different kinds of lifestyles. So, in theory, Yelena's not totally trapped. Does she just

49
stick around because it's safe and comfortable? If so, she's got a lot more in common with the other
characters in the play than we might have thought.

ALEKSANDR VLADIMIROVICH SEREBRYAKOV

Grouches of the World, Unite

If we had to make a puppet of Professor Serebryakov, he'd probably end up looking like this. In a word,
Serebryakov is grouchy. In a few more words, he's a know-it-all, he's oblivious, and he's an overall
jerk.

But don't take our word for it. Check out what the people around him have to say! We get our first hint
that Serebryakov is selfish through a conversation between his first wife's brother and the nyanya,
Marina:
VOYNITSKY: [...] Ever since the Professor came to live here with his wife, my life has left its track

MARINA: [shaking her head]: What a way to live! [...] At night the Professor reads and writes, and
suddenly he rings after one in the morning I ask you gentlemen. For tea! Wake the servants for him,
put on the samovar What a way to live! (1.59-72)

Okay, so Serebryakov is disruptive and kind of lazy, and doesn't respect the lives of the people around
him. What a way to live, indeed. This attitude is really the basis for the play's conflict: old Serebryakov
is taking advantage of the country folks, and they're ticked about it.

And if you think that Serebryakov is just a grouch, just wait till you get a load of his hypochondria.
He's sure good at making everyone drop everything and take care of him, but he barely acknowledges
the help and care that they're providing. He would rather moan and groan than be grateful.
ASTROV: [to Yelena Andreyevna]: I actually came to see your husband. You wrote that he's very ill,
rheumatism and something else, but he turns out to be pretty fit. [...] And I killed myself galloping
thirty versts. Well, no matter, it's not the first time. (1.176-81)

Once again, Serebryakov shows his total lack of respect for anyone else's time and calls Astrov in when
actually he's fine. This dude's not sick; he's just super selfish.

So this chump is selfish, disrespectful, and a hypochondriac. What's next? Oh, yeah: he's a real jerk.
Take this scene where he lets it rip on Yelena, for instance. She's taking care of him like a good wife
one night, and what does the old Prof have to say about it?

SEREBRYAKOV: [...] I'm not stupid and I understand. You are young, healthy, beautiful, you want to
live, and I am an old man, almost a corpse. [...] It turns out that thanks to me, everyone is exhausted
and bored and wasting their youth, while I'm the only one to enjoy life and have satisfaction. Of
course. (2.31-40)

Serebryakov acts like he understands Yelena and her problems, but he's really just feeling sorry for
himself. He's using the classic guilt trip ironythat moms and grandmas are so good at.

Parasite
But what's behind all this grouchiness? Read a little bit further into that guilt trip, for one thing, and
you might see that Serebryakov doesn't actually believe what he's saying. He knows that that's what
everyone thinks: that he's wasting Yelena's life, that he's old, that everyone is spending their lives
working for him while he's out on the town. But he thinks everyone is wrong.

But let's think about who this dude really is. First of all, he's a geezer with a hot young wife. He swoops
in with her from the city and throws everybody off schedule ordering tea at all hours of the night, and
then, to top it off, thinks that he'll sell a house that isn't even his in order to go live in Finland. He's
cranky, mean, and barely acknowledges anybody around him. And this guy is a brilliant professor?
How can he be so smart and not even understand the people around him? (Yeah, yeah, we know:

50
professors aren't always the best at understanding real people. Doesn't make it any better, though, does
it?)

The fact is, Serebryakov is an intellectual who doesn't do any productive work, like building or
manufacturing anything, or saving people's lives, or fighting for social change. He just sits around
writing and has nice, pretty life thanks to the people who do bust their butts. And in Russia at that time,
being an idler living off of other people was starting to become really uncool. Looks like Serebryakov
missed that memo.

And by the way, are we so sure that this guy is actually all that brilliant? Or is his scholarship just as
old and narrow as he is? Here's what Vanya has to say about it:

VOYNITSKY: [...] Here he is in retirement, and now one can see the sum total of his life: not a single
page of his labours will survive him, he's completely unknown, he's nothing! A soap bubble! I was
deceived I see itdeeply deceived (2.202-05)

Now, we find it kind of hard to believe that someone this out of touch would have anything that great
to say. Maybe Vanya is partly right when he says that Serebryakov and Serebryakov's ideas ruined his
life.

The long and short of it is that Serebryakov spends most of the play feeling sorry for himself. He thinks
that he's misunderstood, and that's why he acts like a big, spoiled baby. And that's just his problem. The
other characters are right about him. And by blaming everyone else for his problems, Serebryakov is
just like every other character in the play. He's totally set in his ways and won't lift a finger to change a
thing.

MIKHAIL LVOVICH ASTROV

Doctor Love
What's up, Doc? That's the question on everybody's mind in this tempest in a teacup. He doesn't even
know it (or does he?), but Doctor Astrov is highly coveted among the inhabitants of the country house.
The play opens with him and Marina talking. She fawns over him as though he were her own son
But that's not all. Astrov's quite a hit with the younger ladies, too. Yelena sums it up for us:

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: The Doctor has a nervous, exhausted face. An interesting face. Sonya is
obviously attracted by him; she is in love with him and I understand her. (1.358-60)

Did you catch that? Sonya is in love with Astrov, and Yelena can totally see why. You might think it's
strange that a nervous, exhausted face would be attractive. But we think that maybe what Yelena sees is
a dude who thinks deeply about stuff and is all stressed out because he actually cares about things.

And think about who Astrov is up against in Yelena's mind: Serebryakov, who is pretty much a lounge
lizard who will never be exhausted from hard work, because, well, he pretty much doesn't do any. So
Astrov's exhausted face is a sign of his commitment to his work and the people that he helps. And that's
hot.

Ahead of His Time

Astrov is totally into preserving the environment. Wait, what? In the late 1890s? That's right. You
could confuse him for a tree-hugger a century later, the way he talks about the Russian forest and the
need to save it from destruction. And, in case you were wondering, that was an unusual stance to take
back in the day. Astrov himself knows it's true:

ASTROV: [...] And when they don't know what label to stick to my forehead, they say, 'He's a strange
man, strange!' I love forests that's strange; I don't eat meat that's strange too. They have no direct,
clean, free relationship with nature and with people None, none! [He is about to drink.] (2.332-37)
So his tree-hugging, vegetarian ways might not please the majority of the people he knows, but Astrov
is way ahead of the curve on the environmentalism stuff.

51
This preoccupation with the environment, and the long monologues he dedicates to it, give the play a
little bit of historical context and background. They make it seem like it's really happening in a
particular time and place. But it also helps us understand what makes Astrov stand out to some of the
other characters in the play.

Astrov's alarmist mood goes along with the play's themes of social and economic change, and of people
living off of the land and off of each other with no regard to the consequences. Just as the people are
cutting down the forests to burn the wood and build houses with it, Serebryakov lets his mother-in-law,
brother-in-law, and daughter work their fingers to the bone while he lives it up in the city.

It's kind of like Chekhov is saying that the country people are like the forests. They're seen as a
limitless resource by the city people, who just burn through the money they receive without paying
attention to where it's coming from. Of course, nothing lasts forever, and the forests and the estate will
both disappear someday if someone isn't careful about conserving them.
(And history tells us that's pretty much what happened.)

A Little Vodka Never Hurt Anybody

One more thing we ought to mention about Astrov is his affection for alcohol. Boy, does he hit that
bottle. Alcohol comes up almost every time Astrov's on stage, and this is kind of weird considering that
this dude is a vegetarian doctor committed, you would think, to good health. But hey, this fella doesn't
even seem to realize that he's a drunk.
Let's just do a quick montage of the times vodka comes up around the doctor:

MARINA: Perhaps you'd like a little vodka?

ASTROV: No. I don't drink vodka every day. And it's so close today. (1.8-9)

Okay, sounds innocent enough; he's refusing the drink. But just a few lines later the truth comes out:

MARINA: [] You were young and handsome then, and now you've aged. Alsoyou like your
vodka. (1.18-19)

So which came first? Is Astrov kind of a drunk because he's aged and needs some solace, or has he
aged because the bottom his vodka bottle is always up? Or a combination of the two? And almost as if
to prove Marina's point, after a little while Astrov does ask for the vodka he had just refused, which
makes us think that he probably does drink every day:
ASTROV: [...] [To the workman] Be a good chap and bring me a glass of vodka. (1.262-63)

Don't you just love it when your doctor gets ready for a medical emergency by drinking a glass of hard
liquor? The fact that the Doctor just told Marina that he wouldn't drink shows how unconscious he is of
his habit. (Or, you know, maybe he's just trying to hide it.)
Later he loses his attitude of being respectful to his environment due to, you guessed it, alcohol:

[Enter ASTROV in his coat, without waistcoat and tie; tipsy; followed by TELEGIN with a guitar.]

ASTROV: Play!

TELEGIN: Everyone's asleep!

ASTROV: Play!

Astrov's alcoholism really comes to the forefront in his exchanges with Sonya. She worries about the
effect it has on him and others, and begs him not to let her uncle drink. He promises that they won't
drink together, but later, on his own, he gets tight again. Who needs company?

So what's all this about? Why is this dude sloshing it up like there's no tomorrow? Sonya thinks it
might because this doctor is trying to fit in and be like everyone else. Maybe he's just depressed?

52
SONYA: Why do you want to be like ordinary men who drink and play cards? Don't, I beg you! You're
always saying that people don't create but only destroy hat is given them from on high. Why, why do
you destroy yourself? You mustn't, you mustn't, I beg, I entreat you.

ASTROV: [giving her his hand] I won't drink any more. (2.342-47)

This promise seems to inspire hope, for a couple of reasons. Maybe Astrov will stop drinking,
and maybe it's because he cares for Sonya.

Just kidding. If that's what you thought, you were wrong on both counts, because this was a classic
drunk's promise. By the end of the play, Astrov's back to where he started, going along with the theme
of nothing changing:

MARINA: [returning with a tray on which are a glass of vodka and a piece of bread] Eat.
[ASTROV drinks the vodka.]Your good health, my dear. [Bows low.] And send it down with a little bit
of bread.

ASTROV: No, I'll have it without Good luck then! (4.315-20)

See what we mean? This is Astrov's final exit from the play, and the fact that he is now living off liquor,
not even food, shows that he is hopeless, as far as his drinking goes. The play begins and ends, then,
with Marina serving Astrov some vodka. This continuity shows us that life will continue on as though
nothing had happened, even after the crazy events of the play.

This also shows that despite all of his progressive views, Astrov doesn't actually do much of anything
to bring about change. Sure, he's better than most of these characters at seeing what's in trouble and
what needs to be done to fix things, but all he really does in the end is get tanked because the problems
are so big. In a way, he's just as bad as the other characters who sit around and preserve the status quo.
And he's a guy who should really know better.

SOFYA ALEKSANDROVNA, A.K.A. SONYA, A.K.A. SOPHIE

Plain Jane
It's tough to be Sonya. Like Yelena, she's a woman (well, obviously). Now, in the world of Uncle
Vanya, this means that even if she has some smarts, power, and a good work ethic, she's still pretty
much made to do one thing and one thing only: marry somebody.

The problem with Sonya, though, is that she's not that cute. This point comes up over and over again in
the play, showing how superficial everyone's opinion of the young lady is. It's the first and most
important thing everyone notices. We know that she's really hard working, based on the way that her
uncle Vanya talks about her:

VOYNITSKY: [...] I used to not have a spare minute, Sonya and I worked my goodness, how we
worked, and now only Sonya works and I sleep, eat and drink That's no good! (1.62-65)

Sonya is the only one who's impervious (there's a ten-dollar word for you) to the arrival of her father
and Yelena. Everyone else complains about the way that the couple have screwed up the estate's
schedule, but she just keeps her nose to the grindstone.

Unfortunately, good qualities like that one don't do much for her in the marriage-crazy society she lives
in. Her problem is that she's "plain," which is basically a code word for ugly or, at least, not very pretty.
And, unfortunately, Sonya knows that she's plain. And, even more unfortunately, it really gets to her.

SONYA: [Wringing her hands.] Oh how I hate being plain! It's dreadful! And I know I'm plain, I know
it, I know it Last Sunday when we were leaving church, I heard people talking about me and one
woman said, 'She's kind and generous, but it's a pity that she's so plain.' Plain (2.380-84)

53
Sonya, because she's so good (generous, kind, hard-working) is pretty useful for revealing the
hypocrisy of the society she lives in. Like those old ladies dishing about her at church: they'd so much
rather have someone who is beautiful than someone who is good.

The fact that this particular event happened at church, where you might expect people to look for inner
beauty, shows that even the best virtues can't compete with a pretty face or a smokin' bod. This
falseness is kind of like the falseness of Serebryakov, who lives off money that isn't his. In both cases,
appearances are worth more than reality.

Now, we know that most characters in this play don't get what they want. But in Sonya's case, this lack
of fulfillment is especially cruel, since the main thing preventing her from finding what she wants (in
her case, love) is that she just isn't that hot. Unlike Vanya, who is pretty lazy, or Yelena, who causes
people a lot of trouble (even if unintentionally), Sonya really doesn't do anything wrong; she just
happened to be born plain.
Though we can find fault with some of what she does (see below), the root of her problem, at least
initially, is beyond her control. Through Sonya, Chekhov is showing us that when it comes right down
to it, life just isn't fair.

Peace, Love, and Ledger Books

Sonya is pretty much the only character in the whole play who keeps her head (even if she does go a
little bit gaga for Astrov) and tries to get everyone else to follow suit. She's always running around
playing peacemaker, begging her uncle to simmer down and quit insulting her dad, begging Astrov to
quit getting drunk, and begging her dad to just be nice.

It seems noble, right? But it's also one way that Sonya just completely loses herself, to her own
detriment. She doesn't fight for her rights to the estate when her dad tries to sell it, and she doesn't share
her emotions with Astrov until Yelena pretty much strong-arms her into doing it. (Even then, she relies
on Yelena to make the move.) She's so peaceful that she tiptoes herself right into a forgotten corner,
where no one thinks to help her.

What holds back Sonya from making any kind of splash isn't nobility; it's fear. And her fear is the one
that keeps everyone, Vanya, Yelena, even Marina, down in the play. It's fear of facing the truth.

When Yelena and Sonya plot to find out whether Astrov has feelings for the girl, Yelena is sure that
knowing will relieve Sonya's mind:

SONYA: [in great agitation] You will tell me the whole truth, won't you?

YELENA ANDREYEVNA: Yes, of course. I think that the truth, whatever it is, is not as frightening as
uncertainty. Rely on me, my dear.

SONYA: Yes yes I'll say that you want to see his plans [Goes and stops by the door.] No,
uncertainty is better There's still hope (3.98-105)

See what we're saying? Sonya has a little bit of a desire to know the truth, but she changes her mind
about it. She thinks that as long as she has the uncertainty, there's still a chance that the Doctor will say
yes.
Of course, not knowing doesn't improve her chances at all; it just keeps her in the dark. Sonya's in
denial.

And that denial is what lets everyone in the play ignore the problems swirling around them and just go
on with their lives. It's like they've got blinders on, ignoring the fact that their estate is going to pot, that
their crushes don't feel the same way they do, and that they're all going to be miserable for the rest of
their lives.

MARINA TIMOFEYEVNA

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There's not all that much to say about Marina. She's almost always in the background, never
interjecting much or doing enough to change the course of the play. Her role in the family is nyanya,
which is kind of like a nanny or housekeeper. She's considered almost part of the family, though, and
shouldn't be thought of as just a maid.

In fact, Marina has her opinions and isn't afraid to speak them, even if no one really pays attention to
her. She complains a bit about the way that Serebryakov lives his life:
MARINA: [shaking her head] What a way to live! The Professor gets up at noon, and the samovar has
been going all morning, waiting for him. Before they came we always had dinner before one o'clock,
like people everywhere else, but with them here it's after six. At night the Professor reads and writes,
and suddenly he rings after one in the morningI ask you, gentlemen. For tea! (1.66-71)

Marina is obviously not afraid to speak her mind, but she doesn't really put her money where he mouth
is. Even as Serebryakov ruins her precious schedule, she does whatever he asks, serving him tea
whenever he wants. She even babies him from time to time:

MARINA: [going to Serebryakov, affectionately] Master, what's the matter? Does it hurt? My own legs
ache and ache. [...] [Kisses Serebryakov on the shoulder.] Master, come to bed Come, dear I'll
make you some lime tea and warm up your feet I'll say a prayer to God for you (2.112-22)

By comparing her own aches and pains to Serebryakov's, she almost puts them on the same level. And
the way she kisses him on the shoulder is a sign of respect, but also shows familiarity. This tells us that
Marina is not just an employee; she's a part of the family.

It also shows, though, that she's only part of the family if she keeps on nurturing. She's not supposed to
criticize anybody or rock the boat. Even if she has some useful opinions, she's really just there to make
people feel good and make sure their days are running smoothly. It's another way in which the familiar,
everyday, humdrum reality of the play just keeps on going. Nobody wants to change, and nobody
wants to hear what they're doing wrong.

MARIYA VASILYEVNA VOYNITSKAYA

If you've heard one mother-in-law joke, you've heard them all, but Mariya is the exception to the rule.
She's crazy about her son-in-law Serebryakov (her late daughter's husband) and actually seems to
prefer him to her own son, Ivan.

Mariya is an old woman, and everyone pretty much ignores her. Ivan shuts her up when she gets going
about her favorite political issues:

MARIYA VASILYEVNA: But I want to talk!

VOYNITSKY: You've been talking now for fifty years, talking and reading pamphlets. Time to
stop. (1.211-13)

What a way to talk to your mother. We think that Vanya should probably be grounded for this, but
Mariya just goes about her business, ignoring her grouchy, rude son. His irritation, of course, stems
from the jealousy he feels about Serebryakov.

And we can feel Vanya on that one. When Serebryakov announces that he'd like to sell the estate out
from under everybody, Mariya just goes along with it. She tells her son Vanya:
MARIYA VASILYEVNA: Jean, don't contradict Aleksandr. Believe me, he knows what's good and
what's bad for us better than we do. (3.370-71)

Wowser. These are pretty big words from a lady who's apparently been into politics and changing the
world for fifty years. Why would a supposedly radical lady be okay with giving complete control over
her life to someone else, especially someone who has many more priorities (like himself, his new wife,
and his daughter)? Beats us.

55
It just goes to show that even a character who says she's totally interested in change would really prefer
to have someone else do all the thinking and all the work for her. Mariya, like the rest of the characters
in the play, seems to be happy keeping the status quo, even if it means turning a blind eye to bad
decisions.

UNCLE VANYA ANALYSIS

SYMBOLISM, IMAGERY, ALLEGORY

PERPETUUM MOBILE
When Ivan is really ticked off by his mother's attitude, which favors Serebryakov over him, he
complains and calls Serebryakov a "perpetuum mobile":

MARIYA VASILYEVNA: [to her son] You're just blaming your former beliefs for something But
they're not to blame, you are. You forget that beliefs alone are nothing, a dead letter What you
needed was action.

VOYNITSKY: Action? Not everyone can be a scribbling perpetuum mobile like your Herr
Professor. (1.229-34)

Mariya doesn't really get what her son's trying to say, and readers might have trouble, too, if they don't
know what a perpetuum mobile is. So let's break it down.

In Latin, perpetuum mobile literally means "perpetual motion," and the term is used to describe music
that has lots and lots of notes continuing constantly, giving the illusion of lots of movement, like this.

It can also mean a piece of music that's meant to be repeated forever, in perpetual motion, like, say, "99
Bottles of Beer on the Wall." The idea is that Serebryakov is always busy as a bee, in constant motion,
which delights Mariya and irritates Ivan.

Of course, this insult is ironic. Vanya and several others think that Serebryakov is kind of lazy, while
Vanya and Sonya are the ones that work like crazy to keep the estate running. The thing is, their work
isn't appreciated because it isn't the fancy intellectual stuff that Serebryakov does.

While we love a nice round of "99 Bottles," we have to admit that it's not exactly the most complicated,
thoughtful piece of music out there. And that's why everybody's so upset by Vanya's use of the term.
He's saying that Serebryakov seems busy and blustery, upsetting everyone in his path, but that he
actually isn't going anywhere.

We also get the idea that maybe Serebryakov's work isn't all the interesting, after all. Maybe he's just
spinning out the same old stuff all the time, or maybe his ideas only seem all hoity-toity intellectual but
are really just a bunch of hot air. We don't know, because we never really find out what his ideas are.
He certainly doesn't seem very thoughtful, right? Is it all just smoke-and-mirrors, perpetual motion
going nowhere at all?

MERMAID'S BLOOD
You might have noticed that Yelena is hot stuff at the estate. Everyone's into her or jealous of her, but
she is annoyingly faithful to old Serebryakov (we suspect that if Vanya hadn't walked in on Astrov
kissing her, the story would be different, but, hey). In one attempt to get her to loosen up, Vanya tells
her that she's a mermaid:

VOYNITSKY: Why languish? [Animatedly] Well, my dear, splendid creature, do something clever! In
your veins flows a mermaid's blood, so be a mermaid. For once in your life let yourself go, fall head
over heels in love with some water spriteand plop, head first, into a whirlpool, so the Herr Professor
and all of us just raise our hands in amazement! (3.38-43)

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Why would Vanya say something like that? What does a mermaid have to do with Yelena, a landlubber?
Well, if you'll remember your mythology, the mermaids are sirens who use their singing to attract
sailors to them but actually cause them to crash on the rocks.

That mix of seduction and danger is what Vanya is trying to describe when he calls Yelena a mermaid.
And that gets to her. The problem isn't just that she doesn't want to let go with Vanya. She's got another
sailor in mind, Astrov:
YELENA ANDREYEVNA: [...] Yes, I'm bored when he isn't around, I'm smiling now I'm thinking of
him That Uncle Vanya says I have a mermaid's blood in my veins. 'For once in your life let yourself
go' So? Perhaps I should (3.122-25)

For the characters in Uncle Vanya, the mermaid is a symbol of bucking societal expectations and
constraints, like Yelena's marriage to Serebryakov, for example, and just doing what feels good,
"letting go" and diving in with Astrov or Vanya. They must be far from the sea, though, because no one
is brave enough to actually dive in.

ANALYSIS: SETTING

Where It All Goes Down

Turn-of-the-Century Rural Russia

An Empire on the Verge

At the time of Uncle Vanya, Russia was still ruled by tsars (basically, Russian kings; "tsar" comes from
the word Caesar and means "emperor"), even if their power was being challenged by socialist ideas and
a guy named Lenin. These rabble-rousers had the crazy idea that maybe just being born into nobility
didn't mean that you should be able to exploit everyone else's labor and live the high life.

In Uncle Vanya, we see a family that has very poor neighbors, that owns its land but must work very
hard to get enough off of it to live, and an intellectual relative who doesn't work or produce anything,
really, but spends the money his country family sends him without appreciating where it comes from.

In a lot of ways, the play is like a microcosm of Russia at the time, in particular the lifestyle of rich
people in the country who were out of touch, running out of money, and unable to adapt to change.
Chekhov doesn't seem to think that these people can change much, and maybe he was right: it took a
revolution to break through the kind of inertia we see in this play.

Ungrateful

Vanya complains about Serebryakov's actions in the Act 1:

VOINITSKY: [...] This old fish is living on the estate of his first wife, he has to live there because he
can't afford to live in the city. [...] Just think what luck! [. . . H]e's got academic degrees and a chair,
has become His Excellency, the son-in-law of a senator, et cetera, et cetera. [... F]or twenty-five years,
he has occupied a post which shouldn't have been his! (1.121-38)

This is exactly the sort of exploitative situation that will spark the Russian Revolution. Serebryakov, in
Vanya's eyes, doesn't deserve the privileged situation he has been enjoying, but all the hard-working
people in his family have made it possible for him.

At the time of the play, it isn't here yet, but at the turn of the century, workers and peasants were
forming resistance groups and socialist philosophy was spreading. At the end of the 19th century, huge
changes were on the way in the form of a bloody revolution and complete political upheaval. (nasilna
smena)

ANALYSIS: GENRE

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Drama, Family Drama, Realism, Tragicomedy
All right, the first genre on our list, drama, is pretty easy to check off. It's a play, meant to be staged in
a theater. No narrative points of view, just what people say and do. Get it? Got it? Good.

Next up, this is a family drama if there ever were one. Almost everyone in the play is related to the
others in some screwy way or another, like the brother of someone's dead first wife, for example. The
first and second wives, the relationships that are based on marriage, not blood, all add up to create a
family in which everybody tries to figure out who they are based on their position within the group. It's
a free-for-all, and kind of funny.

Which leads us to tragicomedy. The play is actually based on a play Chekhov wrote a few years earlier,
which was a tragedy. In that version, called The Wood Demon, Uncle Vanya actually kills himself
rather than trying and failing to murder Serebryakov. This failure puts the comedy on the tragi- for this
play, and that means that sometimes you might be confused about whether you should laugh or cry, or
both.

To wrap it up, Chekhov is one of the heavy-hitters of 19th-century Realism. That's a literary movement
that tried to portray people as they really were. It tried to show how people really talked and how they
really lived. The mix of classes (Telegin and Marina thrown in with Serebryakov and Astrov) is a big
clue that this play is in the Realist genre.

ANALYSIS: TONE

Cruelly Comic
Even though in a play tone isn't as obvious as it might be in a short story or novel, we can still kind of
see, by the way the whole thing is structured, what the author's attitude is toward the sad lives of the
characters. And we think that the anticlimax is the perfect way to see that Chekhov is totally making
fun of Vanya and the gang. Look at the drama, and tell us this ain't comedy gold:

VOYNITSKY: Let me go, Hlne! Let me go! [Freeing himself, he runs in and looks for Serebryakov.]
Where is he? There he is! [Shoots at him.] Bang!

[A pause.]

Haven't I hit him? Missed again? [Angrily] The devil, devil devil take you. [Hurls the revolver on
the floor and sits down on a chair exhausted.(. . .)](3.430-36)

Try to picture this scene in your head. Here's some Uncle Johnny dude running around and actually
shouting "Bang!" while he's trying to shoot someone, only to miss twice and drop into a
chair exhausted like a silent-movie actor on a bad day, having achieved nothing. You know what that
is?
Hilarious.

ANALYSIS: WRITING STYLE

Slice-of-Life
Uncle Vanya is a Realist play, so it's no surprise that the writing tries to be true-to-life, capturing the
way that real people talk. The way the characters speak also reveals their socioeconomic status. So
Yelena sounds a lot more refined than, say, the maid Marina. (Check out this Shmoop definition
of Realism if you need a refresher.)
For example, look at this little fight between Serebryakov and Vanya:

VOYNITSKY: What do you want from me, Serebryakov?

SEREBRYAKOV: 'Serebryakov'. . .? Why are you angry, Vanya?

58
This little bit of language reveals a whole lot about the relationship between our two grouches. The
problem is that Voynitsky calls his old friend by his last name, which is really formal in Russian. If you
call your friend by the friend's last name, it's actually kind of an insult.

When Serebryakov notices what Vanya has called him, he knows something's up, and he goes ahead
and calls Ivan by the nickname Vanya, which is really informal. It's kind of a power game between
these two: Vanya tries to distance Serebryakov by using his last name, but then Serebryakov is like
"Whatever, Vanya," showing that he is just too cool for that kind of hot air. This is just one example of
the way that the language that ordinary people use gives us information about what's going on in our
characters' heads.

ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE TITLE?

The play could have been called Ivan Petrovich Voynitsky, or Jean, or even just Vanya. But Chekhov
decided to call it Uncle Vanya and we doubt that it's just a coincidence. Vanya, the nickname, takes
away a lot of Ivan's formality, and even makes the character seem a little childish.

And calling him Uncle means that that's his most important role in life. He's no one's husband or father,
even though he'd like to marry Yelena. The title pretty much just magnifies his failure. It also shows
that in this play, relationships and how everyone's related to each other are going to play a big part.

ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE ENDING?

The curtain falls on a quiet, domestic scene. Telegin plays the guitar, Mariya makes notes in one of her
political pamphlets, Marina knits, and Sonya comforts her sad uncle Vanya.

Vanya was just on the verge of killing himself, by the way. He tried to steal some morphine to do the
deed, but Sonya talked him out of it, asking him to wait until death comes naturally. Her final words,
"We shall rest!" refer to their (natural) deaths.

Morbid, right?

Yeah, it is. The idea is that these people are wasting their lives, working to make others' lives easier
and waiting to die. They don't have any rest or happiness in life, but rather than try to change things,
they find it easier to just wait for death. And that's Chekhov's big criticism in this play. Wasted lives
and mediocrity with no ambition are not on his good list.

ANALYSIS: PLOT ANALYSIS

Exposition (Initial Situation)

Thrown Off Schedule

The country house is in an unusual state. Everything ran like clockwork before, but now that
Serebryakov and wife #2 have arrived, everything's out of whack. This wrench in the works sets
everyone up for the conflict to come.

Rising Action (Conflict, Complication)

Bizarre Love Triangles

Sonya is in love with Astrov, who ignores her, and everyone seems to be in love with Yelena, who
ignores them. Also, Vanya has some serious hatred bubbling under the surface for Serebryakov. It's
clear that something has to give because everyone is on the verge of ripping each other's heads off,
which means that the play is getting complicated.

Climax (Crisis, Turning Point)

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Shots in the Dark

Both Vanya and Astrov try their luck with Yelena and fail. Sonya tries to find out if Astrov has feelings
for her, and it turns out he doesn't. To make matters worse, Serebryakov announces he wants to sell the
country house, and Vanya tries to shoot him (but fails). There's really no turning back from trying to
kill your brother-in-law, so that's what makes this the climax. Also, at this point, everyone has revealed
their secret crushes, and everyone has been turned down, and it's hard to turn back from that, either.

Falling Action

Get Me Outta Here!

Yelena is ready to roll and leave the crazies behind. Vanya tries (and failsare you starting to see a
pattern?) to steal some morphine from Astrov. Basically everyone is abandoning ship. After the
attempted shooting, everyone's just falling into place before the conclusion of the play.

Resolution (Denouement)

Right Back Where We Started

The Professor, Yelena, and the Doctor all leave, which means that Mariya, Sonya, and Vanya can all
go back to their ordinary lives, paying bills and knitting stockings. Nothing has changed, which is an
interesting kind of resolution. It's like Chekhov is saying that even after mega family conflicts,
everyone just ignores their problems and carries on as usual.

ANALYSIS: ALLUSIONS

Literary and Philosophical References

Ivan Ivanovich Dimitriyev, 18th- and 19th-century Russian poet (1.115-17)

Don Juan (1.141)
Nikolay Aleksandrovich Ostrovsky, The Girl with No Dowry, 19th-century Russian play
(1.265)
Konstantin Nikolayevich Batyushkov, 18th- and 19th-century Russian poet (2.19)
Ivan Sergeyevich Turgenev, 19th-century Russian novelist (2.23)
Nikolai Gogol, The Government Inspector, 19th-century Russian play (3.322)
Horace, Ode I.28 "Three Handfuls of Earth" (3.29)
Ivan Ayvazovsky, 19th-century Russian artist (4.26)

THE CHERRY ORCHARD INTRODUCTION

In A Nutshell
Anton Chekhov was a Russian writer famous for his short stories and plays. The Cherry Orchard was
his last play, produced by the famous Moscow Art Theatre shortly before his death in 1904.

You may have heard that Chekhov was a doctor. He started writing to support himself during medical
school, and you can see the bedside manner in his writing. He's a man who has seen a lot, and thinks of
people with a mixture of affection and ridicule. You can certainly see this side of him in The Cherry
Orchard, which depicts an aristocratic Russian family that loses their ancestral estate because they can't
pay the mortgage.

Many consider The Cherry Orchard Chekhov's greatest play. It is a beautiful example of Chekhovian
style: the mixture of comedy and tragedy, a form that avoids melodrama by setting the most exciting
events offstage, and the detailed characterization that makes Chekhov an actor's dream.

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WHY SHOULD I CARE?
Imagine there is a beautiful park in your neighborhood. It's owned by one family and walled off from
everyone else. But the family is almost never there; the park decays because they can't pay for its
upkeep. Should the rest of the community be able to make use of that space?

Now think of the most beloved place in your hometown: a field, a patch of woods, a city block, the
family home. You played there. You had your first kiss there. A million moments that make
you you happened there. Fast-forward a few decades and someone wants to take this spot away from
you. Obliterate it. Maybe turn it into a parking lot or a hotel. No one will ever know that this special
place was there but you, and once you die, that's it. Would you fight for it?

These two scenarios play into The Cherry Orchard. This play is about the relentless march of time and
the way people handle change. Some profit by it. Some go kicking and screaming. And others are left
behind.

THE CHERRY ORCHARD SUMMARY

How It All Goes Down

Act I opens with the businessman Lopakhin and maid Dunyasha waiting for the owners of the
Ranevskaya estate: the mistress of the house, Lubov Ranevskaya, her brother Gaev, and daughter Anya.
They finally arrive, in the middle of the night, with an assortment of others: the governess Charlotta,
the manservant Yasha, a friend named Simeon-Pischik, and other servants. Varya, Lubov's adopted
daughter, is there too.

Tearful reunions and a general catching-up ensue. Those who stayed home report on the orchard, and
those who left report on Paris. The important news items are these: Lopakhin still hasn't proposed to
Varya; Lubov lost all her money supporting a scamp; the cherry orchard will definitely be sold to pay
their debts; and the elderly servant Fiers is still alive. (inae, fiers na francuskom znai ponosan)

Lopakhin has an idea to save their house. He's attached to it because he grew up there, the son of a serf
(a peasant working on the land). Lopakhin proposes clearing the land to lease it for summer homes.
Neither Lubov nor Gaev can stomach the idea. Just before everyone goes to bed, the student Trofimov
enters. He was the tutor to Lubov's deceased young son, and the sight of his face makes her cry for her
dead child.

In Act II, we're at a picnic in the cherry orchard. Some weeks have passed. The aristocrats arrive with
Lopakhin, who is still hatching plans to save the estate. Lubov knows they need to do something, but to
her the idea of summer homes is bourgeois and distasteful. Trofimov enters with Anya and Varya. Pet
subjects come up: Varya's engagement; Trofimov's eternal student status; telegrams from Lubov's
ne'er-do-well Parisian lover; and the orchard, again and again. A homeless man enters the scene, drunk
and singing. He asks for money and Lubov gives him a gold piece, an oversized donation she
immediately regrets upon his exit.

Everyone leaves, and finally Trofimov and Anya are left alone. Under his influence, she's come to see
the orchard differently. It's no longer the magical center of her childhood, but a symbol of the injustice
her family afflicted on others.

Act III is set in August, back at the family estate. Lubov is throwing a party. There are a number of
little arguments and discussions. But the main event is the arrival of Lopakhin. He and Gaev have come
from the auction of the cherry orchard. Lubov's been on pins and needles waiting to hear what
happened. What happened isLopakhin bought the estate. The former son of a serf who worked on the
estate now owns it. Lubov is crushed, but Anya gently tells her to move on.

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Act IV takes place in October, outside the estate. Everyone is moving out, and Lopakhin, no master of
sensitivity, offers champagne. Each character says good-bye to the house in his or her way. Anya and
Trofimov are excited about the future. Lubov and Gaev are distraught, but trying to keep it together.
Lubov is concerned about the elderly servant Fiers: have they taken him to the hospital? Yes, says
Anya, he's taken care of. And one last thing: will Lopakhin finally propose to Varya? He won't.
Everyone leaves, and after a moment, Fiers enters the stage. He has been forgotten. He lies down and
grows quiet.

ACT 1 SUMMARY

The businessman Lopakhin and young maid Dunyasha are in the nursery at Lubov
Ranevskaya's house. They were waiting anxiously for Lubov to arrive from the train, but
Lopakhin has fallen asleep.
When he wakes up, he reminisces about Lubov showing him kindness as a little boy, though
he was just a peasant. He's a rich man now.
The clerk Epikhodov enters and gives a weather report: frost, though the cherry trees are in
bloom. When he leaves, Dunyasha confesses to Lopakhin that the clerk has proposed to her.
But he's accident-prone and has squeaky boots, so she's not sure she's into it.
Two carriages drive up to the house. The old servant Fiers walks across the stage to meet the
mistress of the house, Lubov. He mumbles to himself.
Everyone enters! Lubov, her daughters Anya and Varya, her brother Gaev, the magician
Charlotta, Simeon-Pischik, and a couple of servants.
Lubov recognizes the nursery where she grew up, and weeps.
When Anya and Dunyasha are left alone, Dunyasha confides that Epikhodov has proposed.
Anya is indifferent and exhausted.
Varya enters with her keys. She's been left behind to take care of the house. Anya gives an
account of living in Paris with Charlotta and Lubov. It was cold; her French was horrible; her
mother is penniless.
Anya asks Varya a question that will be repeated throughout the play: has Lopakhin proposed?
No, says Varya, and she doubts he will. She wishes people would stop pushing it.
The servant Yasha enters. He sexually harasses Dunyasha and she breaks a saucer.
Anya and Varya talk about Trofimov. He was their little brother Grisha's tutor before his death
right after Lubov's husband's death.
Fiers scolds Dunyasha for not having the coffee ready, then weeps with happiness that the
mistress is back home. (Comedy and sentimentality are often butted up right next to each
other in Chekhov.)
The older generation reenters: Lubov with her brother Gaev. They are reminiscing, and as
Lopakhin tries to contribute, Gaev embarrasses him.
A little more small talk and Lopakhin comes out with it: the cherry orchard is going to be sold
if they don't do something about it. He has a plan. They just need to divide the land into
building lots for summer homes, rent them out, and make enough money to pay their debts.
Ranevskaya and Gaev look at him blankly. They can't imagine selling this land where they
grew up.
Varya enters with two telegrams for Ranevskaya. They are from Paris. She rips them up
without reading them.
Totally ignoring Lopakhin's proposal for the cherry orchard, Gaev makes an ode to the
bookcase.
Lopakhin finally leaves. Pischik asks Lubov to loan him money, and Varya protests they
haven't got it. More teasing about Varya marrying Lopakhin ensues.
They're all about to go to bed. The sun is coming up outside, and Gaev and Lubov notice that
the orchard is all white. Lubov imagines she sees her mother walking towards her.
Trofimov enters. He was Grisha's tutor. At first Lubov doesn't recognize him; then she bursts
into tears, thinking of her dead son. She's depressed at how old Trofimov looks.

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 Before going to bed, Lubov agrees to loan Pischik money.
Yasha won't see his mother, who's been waiting in the kitchen since yesterday. She's a peasant,
and he's become almost a gentleman.
Gaev proposes a few options for saving the orchard: Anya's marriage to a rich man, the
intervention of a wealthy aunt, an inheritance. Varya wishes for the help of God.
Part of the problem, says Gaev, is that Lubov is a little morally loose. Anya overhears this and
scolds Gaev for slandering her mother.
Both Anya and Varya agree Gaev should keep his trap shut more often. But he's in a state: he's
figured out three courses of action to save the orchard. He will arrange a loan from somebody
at the District Court; Lubov will sweet-talk Lopakhin; and Anya will try the rich aunt.
Something's got to work out.
All this planning soothes Anya. She's sure it will be OK.
Fiers still regards Gaev as a child. He reprimands him for staying up late. Before Gaev goes to
bed, he makes one last speech about treating peasants well to the chagrin of Anya and
Varya.
Varya tells Anya that some vagrants started sleeping in the servant's quarters, relying on her to
feed them. But Anya has fallen asleep.
As Varya takes Anya to bed, Trofimov sees her for the first time in several years. He is
moved.

ACT 2 SUMMARY

Everyone's having a picnic outside.

Charlotta is musing about her unconventional life. She doesn't know how old she is. Her
parents were performers and, when they died, a German lady took her in. She became a
governess. Now she's alone.
Epikhodov plays on a guitar. He's trying to get Dunyasha's attention, but she's not having it.
Her eye is on Yasha.
When Epikhodov shows off a revolver, Charlotta decides she's had enough of these people.
She takes off.
Epikhodov is full of dissatisfaction, too. He feels wronged by fate. He'd like a private word
with Dunyasha, but she sends him on an errand.
Dunyasha intimates to Yasha what a lady she is, and that he better not treat her badly.
He kisses her. Then tells her to behave. When Lubov approaches, Yasha asks Dunyasha to get
lost. It would look bad for them to be seen together.
Lubov enters with Gaev and Lopakhin. Lopakhin is on his pet subject: will they rent the
cherry orchard for villas?
Lubov and Gaev totally ignore him. Lubov seems to be in a bad mood. She drops her coins
and blames herself for spending money on lunch when Varya is feeding the peasants peas. She
also scolds her brother for eating so much, drinking so much, talking so much.
Yasha is teasing Gaev, who can't stand it. It's either him or me, Gaev says. Lubov dismisses
Yasha.
Lopakhin informs them that a rich man from town plans to buy their estate. When Lubov
counters that their aunt will loan them money maybe ten thousand rubles Lopakhin is
beside himself. It's not going to be enough. They have to rent the cherry orchard out for
vacation villas.
But it's so vulgar! protests Lubov.
Lopakhin threatens to leave, but Lubov apologizes. She feels she's led a sinful life, wasting
money, marrying a good-for-nothing drunk. She thinks her son died as a punishment. After he
died, she took up with another good-for-nothing, who fell ill and drained her emotionally and
financially. He just sent her another telegram, which she tears up.
A Jewish band can be heard. Lubov wants to have them over.
On the subject of entertainment, Lopakhin saw a play last night. Lubov says he should spend
time looking at his own life instead of plays. And he should get married. To Varya.

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 Lopakhin is noncommittal.
Gaev has been offered a job in a bank. Fiers enters with Gaev's overcoat, scolding him.
Fiers talks about the emancipation he didn't agree with it. He stayed in service even after
being freed.
Anya and Varya enter with Trofimov. Lopakhin teases him for always being with the ladies.
And still being a student.
Trofimov has heard it before, but still gets riled.
They make fun of him, but they enjoy hearing Trofimov's opinions. He believes in work and
progress. He loathes the intellectuals who still treat their servants like animals.
Lopakhin picks up on the thread, reflecting on how small and petty people are, when they
should really be giants.
Epikhodov enters with his guitar. Everyone's feeling pensive.
Gaev can't help himself. He sees the sunset and delivers an ode to Nature. Anya and Varya
hush him.
Everyone is silent for a moment, then a distant sound like a breaking string is heard. It disturbs
them.
Soon after, a drunken vagrant enters, begging for money. Varya screams; Lubov gives him a
gold piece. Varya can't believe Lubov gave him so much.
When Lubov brings up marriage, Lopakhin makes some bad nun jokes in Varya's direction.
Everyone exits, aside from Trofimov and Anya.
They are relieved to be alone.
Trofimov is annoyed that Varya keeps monitoring them. She's afraid they'll fall in love, he
says. But they have higher things in mind.
Anya is under his spell. He's made her see the cherry orchard totally differently. She doesn't
love it like she used to.
Of course she doesn't love it, says Trofimov. It's a symbol of slavery. Her ancestors owned
serfs, whose souls haunt the trees. They have to escape the past.
Anya will start with leaving the house. Trofimov is all for it.
Epikhodov's guitar is heard, and Varya, calling for them.

ACT 3 SUMMARY

It's a party at Lubov's house. The Jewish band from Act 2 is playing, people are dancing and
playing pool, Pischik is talking nonsense to Trofimov.
When Varya enters, Trofimov gives her the usual taunt: "Madame Lopakhin!"
Pischik is trying to scrounge up money to pay interest. For a minute he freaks out, thinking
he's lost what he already collected.
Trofimov wryly observes that Pischik could move mountains with the energy he's spent
finding money.
Today is the day of the auction and Lubov is waiting anxiously for news.
Meanwhile Charlotta is entertaining everyone with parlor tricks: cards, ventriloquism, and
disappearing acts. Pischik is a little smitten.
Trying to soothe her mother, Varya assures her that Gaev has bought the orchard.
The topic of Varya's marriage to Lopakhin comes up again. She likes him, she admits, but she
can't really propose to him herself.
Yasha comes in laughing and tattling: Epikhodov has broken a billiard cue. Varya is miffed
that Epikhodov, a worker, is acting like a guest.
Lubov asks Trofimov not to tease Varya so much. Can't he see how unhappy she is?
He's just getting back at her for hounding him and Anya. They are above love.
Lubov says she must be beneath love. But really, all she can think about is the auction. She
wants Trofimov to comfort her.
She's got the wrong man. Trofimov tells her to look reality in the face.
Lubov can't believe his lack of sympathy. He only thinks he knows what reality is because of
his youth, because he hasn't seen the worst of life.

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 A telegram falls out of Lubov's sleeve. It's from her lover in Paris, who is sick and begging her
to return.
She still loves this man, who has stolen everything from her? She's a fool, says Trofimov.
This infuriates Lubov. She attacks Trofimov, calling him a virgin and a freak.
Trofimov is horrified. He leaves the room, and promptly falls down the stairs.
The dancing starts again. Lubov apologizes and dances with Trofimov.
Fiers comes in, disapproving of the whole scene. He tells Yasha how, in the past, generals and
barons came to their parties. Today it's post office clerks.
Yasha replies that he's bored and wishes Fiers would kick the bucket.
Lubov asks Fiers where he will go if the estate is sold. Wherever she tells him, he says.
Yasha requests that Lubov take him back to Paris. The people here are too uneducated for
him.
Dunyasha enters, trying to get Yasha's attention. She's been flirting with the post office clerk.
Epikhodov still has a thing for her, but she won't give him any time.
Varya scolds Epikhodov for breaking the cue. When she threatens to hit him with a stick, she
catches Lopakhin instead.
He's back from the auction. With Gaev, who's wiping tears from his eyes.
The orchard has been sold. To Lopakhin.
Lubov is stunned. Varya takes off her key ring and throws it down.
Lopakhin tells the story of the auction. A rich man was making bids, and Lopakhin topped
him. The place where his father and grandfather were serfs now belongs to him.
Lopakhin asks for the musicians to play. Lubov weeps bitterly.
Anya comes in, imploring her mother to stop crying and to move on.

ACT 4 SUMMARY

The house has been stripped. Piles of suitcases are waiting outside.
Lubov and Gaev have just said goodbye to the peasants living on their estate. Lubov gave
them all her money.
Lopakhin excitedly offers everyone champagne. No one will drink it, except Yasha.
The train leaves in 47 minutes, Lopakhin reminds everyone.
Lopakhin and Trofimov have a little chat. There is sympathy between the two of them, though
they tease each other. Lopakhin offers Trofimov money, which he declines.
The sounds of chopping wood can be heard. Can't they wait till Lubov is gone, asks Anya?
One item to be resolved: Fiers. Anya inquires what has become of him. Was he sent to the
doctor? Yasha replies irritably that he dealt with it this morning.
Yasha again refuses his mother and rejects Dunyasha. He's happy to be getting out of here.
Lubov enters with Anya, who's also happy to be leaving and starting a new life. She plans to
further her education, work, and read a lot of books.
Gaev is looking on the bright side. At least it's all been resolved, and he's got a new job.
Charlotta's singing. She makes a baby out of a bundle, then throws it away. She doesn't know
what's happening to her. Lopakhin promises to figure something out.
Pischik enters and shocks everyone by paying back the money he's borrowed. Some
Englishmen leased his land for its white clay. He hadn't realized the family is leaving today,
but accepts their departure.
Lubov is worried about Fiers. Anya assures her that Yasha took care of him.
Lubov is also worried about Varya. She has a private moment with Lopakhin. Seriously, won't
he propose to her?
Sure, okay, now's the time, he agrees. Varya is sent for.
They are alone. A couple pleasantries, some awkward pauses. Lopakhin doesn't do it. Varya
weeps.
Everyone gets ready to go. Anya is excited. Gaev starts making a speechand stops. They'll
see each other in the spring. Lopakhin starts locking up.
Everyone exits, leaving Lubov and Gaev alone. They sob.

65
 After a moment, they leave too. The stage is empty. More sounds of locking doors, and the
sounds of trees being chopped.
Fiers enters. He's sick. They've forgotten him. He sits on a sofa, worrying about what coat
Gaev has on. He lies down, and stops moving.
Again, the sound of a string breaking is heard. Then just the sound of an axe falling on trees.

THE CHERRY ORCHARD THEMES

SOCIETY AND CLASS

Class instability is the driving circumstance in The Cherry Orchard.Chekhov portrays Russia after in
the freeing of the serfs, in a moment of flux. While the society used to be well-stratified, now
everything's all mixed up. There are servants who want to stay servants, like 87-year-old Fiers. There
are servants who pretend to be ladies and gentlemen, like Dunyasha and Yasha. There are former
peasants who are rich and getting richer, like Lopakhin. And the aristocrats on their way nowhere but
down.

Questions About Society and Class

1. Why does Gaev have such a problem with Yasha and Lopakhin?
2. Does Trofimov's student status place him outside of the social hierarchy?
3. Why do the servants (Yasha, Dunyasha, Epikhodov) constantly pose as higher class than they
are?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

As Lubov's servants, Fiers and Yasha embody the change in social attitudes in turn-of-century Russia.

Trofimov's monologues make explicit the ideas of social change embedded in the play.

LOPAKHIN. My father was a peasant, it's true, but here I am in a white waistcoat
and yellow shoes ... a pearl out of an oyster. I'm rich now, with lots of money, but
just think about it and examine me, and you'll find I'm still a peasant down to the
marrow of my bones. (1.5)

Lopakhin knows himself well. He admires and desires upper-class life, but doesn't believe he can
truly inhabit it.

Quote #2

LOPAKHIN. You're too sensitive, Dunyasha. You dress just like a lady, and you do
your hair like one too. You oughtn't. You should know your place. (1.9)

Everyone's always telling Dunyasha to know her place. Yet Lopakhin is the quintessential striver,
escaping from his lower-class roots to eventually buy the orchard.

Quote #3

GAEV. It smells of patchouli here. (1.86)

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 Gaev is very sensitive to smells and likes to comment on working-class ones to put people in their
place, particularly Lopakhin and Yasha.

LOPAKHIN. Up to now in the villages there were only the gentry and the labourers,
and now the people who live in villas have arrived. All towns now, even small ones,
are surrounded by villas. And it's safe to say that in twenty years' time the villa
resident will be all over the place. At present he sits on his balcony and drinks tea,
but it may well come to pass that he'll begin to cultivate his patch of land, and then
your cherry orchard will be happy, rich, splendid. (1.124)

Lopakhin just really doesn't know how to speak their language. Does he think that Lubov and
Gaev will be enamored of the image of hundreds of burghers setting up house on their land?

Quote #5

VARYA. [To YASHA] Your mother's come from the village; she's been sitting in
the servants' room since yesterday, and wants to see you. ...

YASHA. Bless the woman!

VARYA. Shameless man. (1.192-194)

Though he is a servant, Yasha wants to be a man of leisure. He won't acknowledge his mother,
who reminds him of his peasant past.

Quote #6

GAEV. The peasants don't love me for nothing, I assure you. We've got to learn to
know the peasants! (1.214)

Do the peasants really love Gaev? Does he have anything to do with them? The only interactions
we see are the encounter with the vagrant which Gaev handles with total distaste and a
farewell speech at the top of Act 4.

VARYA. In the old servants' part of the house, as you know, only the old people
live--little old Efim and Polya and Evstigney, and Karp as well. They started letting
some tramps or other spend the night there--I said nothing. Then I heard that they
were saying that I had ordered them to be fed on peas and nothing else; from
meanness, you see. ... And it was all Evstigney's doing. (1.220)

Because Varya has practical dealings with the peasants, she bears the brunt of class tensions. She
can't afford to be as magnanimous as Lubov.

Quote #8

DUNYASHA. I went into service when I was quite a little girl, and now I'm not used
to common life, and my hands are white, white as a lady's. I'm so tender and so
delicate now; respectable and afraid of everything. (2.18)

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 Dunyasha is doing what our grandmother called "putting on airs." She tries to attract the newly
cosmopolitan Yasha by claiming to be a lady.

Quote #9

YASHA. Of course, every girl must respect herself; there's nothing I dislike more
than a badly behaved girl. (2.19)

When it comes to "knowing one's place," Yasha is a hypocrite. He believes he can act like a
gentleman, while counseling Dunyasha to remember to be subservient.

LOPAKHIN. I've never learned anything, my handwriting is bad, I write so that I'm
quite ashamed before people, like a pig! (2.64)

Lopakhin is equally honest about his background, whether he's with servants or aristocrats.

Quote #11

VARYA. Why is Epikhodov here? Who said he could play billiards? I don't
understand these people. (3.51)

Varya is more conservative and hierarchical than the generation above her. Gaev and Lubov don't
seem to care that the workers are enjoying themselves at the party, but Varya can't stand it.

MEMORY AND THE PAST

Because The Cherry Orchard depicts a changing society, the characters spend a lot of time thinking
about how now compares to then. How characters relate to the past determines their investment in the
play's major question: will the cherry orchard be saved? As a symbol of the past of the Russian empire,
the orchard evokes longing, regret, or disgust sometimes a combination of all three. Despite the
painful resistance of most characters, in the end, a cord to the past is snipped. The cherry orchard is
sold, the house is shuttered, and the old servant is left to die.

Questions About Memory and the Past

1. Who do you think is the most sentimental and nostalgic character in the play?
2. Varya is Lubov's adopted daughter. What is her relationship to the past and how does it differ
from Anya's?
3. Is there any character in the play unmoved by memories of the past?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Chekhov uses Fiers's senility as a tool of remembrance in the play.

How characters respond to the loss of the cherry orchard defines their dependence on, or freedom from,
the weight of the past.

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 LOPAKHIN. Lubov Andreyevna, as I remember her now, was still young, and very
thin, and she took me to the washstand here in this very room, the nursery. (1.5)

Lopakhin may be a businessman, but he is almost as sentimental as Lubov. His devotion to her
stems from this one memory, when she comforted him as a little boy.

Quote #2

LUBOV. My dear nursery, oh, you beautiful room. ... I used to sleep here when I was
a baby. (1.26)

For Lubov, each present moment in the house each encounter with a room or an object
reminds her of the past. It's almost as though the house is haunted.

Quote #3

ANYA. [Thoughtfully] Father died six years ago, and a month later my brother
Grisha was drowned in the river--such a dear little boy of seven! Mother couldn't
bear it; she went away, away, without looking round. (1.75)

Lubov once fled her home in grief, fearing to encounter memories of her husband and son. Now
she fears losing those memories with the loss of the estate.

GAEV. Once upon a time you and I used both to sleep in this room, and now I'm
fifty-one; it does seem strange. (1.82)

Gaev and Lubov feed each other's obsessions with the past.

Quote #5

FIERS. In the old days, forty or fifty years back, they dried the cherries, soaked them
and pickled them, and made jam of themand then we'd send the dried cherries off
in carts to Moscow and Kharkov. And money! And the dried cherries were soft, juicy,
sweet, and nicely scented. ... They knew the way. (1.115)

Fiers represents the past that is perishing. He remembers the vitality of the cherry orchard. But he
can't remember the recipe for the jam the practical knowledge that made the orchard
sustainable.

Quote #6

LUBOV. [Looks out into the garden] Oh, my childhood, days of my innocence! In
this nursery I used to sleep; I used to look out from here into the orchard. Happiness
used to wake with me every morning, and then it was just as it is now; nothing has
changed. (1.162)

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 Wake up, Lubov! Everything has changed. Serfs have been freed, the trees don't yield fruit, the
estate is about to be sold.

LUBOV. Look, there's my dead mother going in the orchard ...dressed in white!
[Laughs from joy] That's she. (1.164)

Just when we want to strangle Lubov for refusing to face reality, Chekhov gives her a
heartbreaking moment like this.

Quote #8

TROFIMOV. For it's so clear that in order to begin to live in the present we must
first redeem the past, and that can only be done by suffering, by strenuous,
uninterrupted labour. Understand that, Anya. (2.149)

Trofimov's view of the past is completely contrary to Lubov's. Life on the estate was not beautiful
and idyllic it was unjust.

Quote #9

LUBOV. To look at the walls and the windows for the last time. ...My dead mother
used to like to walk about this room. (4.129)

Lubov and Gaev can't stop recounting memories as they prepare to leave the house.

GAEV. I remember, when I was six years old, on Trinity Sunday, I sat at this
window and looked and saw my father going to church. i(4.106)

Lubov remembers her mother, Gaev remembers his father. Perhaps they both see themselves in
these images of the past.

LOVE
For a play about social change, The Cherry Orchard abounds in love. There are love triangles. There is
unrequited love. There's physical love. There's spiritual love. Maternal love. Platonic love. Love
between master and servant. There's even requited love! Chekhov just couldn't write a play about
human beings without showing them in love of all kinds and making decisions, good and bad, inspired
by love.

Questions About Love

1. Why doesn't Lopakhin propose to Varya?

2. Is Trofimov really "above love," as he claims?
3. How does Lubov's attitude toward love relate to her attitude toward money?
4. What will happen to Dunyasha now that Yasha's returning to Paris? Will she decide to marry
Epikhodov?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

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As Lubov's daughter, Anya offers the love needed to humanize Trofimov's ideals.

Lubov's devotion to love provides a counterpoint to Trofimov's purely sociological perspective.

DUNYASHA. I don't know what to do about it. He's a nice young man, but every
now and again, when he begins talking, you can't understand a word he's saying. I
think I like him. He's madly in love with me. He's an unlucky man; every day
something happens. (1.19)

At the beginning of the play, Dunyasha entertains the idea of attaching herself to Epikhodov.
Under the sexual influence of Yasha, however, she quickly learns to ignore him.

Quote #2

LOPAKHIN. There they are, right enough. Let's go and meet them. Will she know
me? We haven't seen each other for five years. (1.21)

Lopakhin seems to have a crush on Lubov. We can imagine him dreaming up scenarios in which
he marries her to save the orchard.

Quote #3

DUNYASHA. The clerk, Epikhodov, proposed to me after Easter.

ANYA. Always the same. (1.34-35)

Anya is bored by Dunyasha's narcissism. She largely stays out of the conversations about who
should be engaged to whom, even before she reconnects with Mr. "Above-Love."

LOPAKHIN. My father was the serf of your grandfather and your own father, but
you--you more than anybody else--did so much for me once upon a time that I've
forgotten everything and love you as if you belonged to my family ... and even more.
(1.101)

Is it possible that some of Lopakhin's affection for Lubov is actually a Fiers-like servant/master
devotion?

Quote #5

VARYA. I think that it will all come to nothing. He's a busy man. I'm not his affair ...
he pays no attention to me. Bless the man, I don't want to see him. ... But everybody
talks about our marriage, everybody congratulates me, and there's nothing in it at all,
it's all like a dream. (1.60)

It's hard to know from the text whether Varya really loves Lopakhin. Her desire to marry him
could spring solely from a desire for security and companionship.

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Quote #6

VARYA. My darling's come back, my pretty one's come back! I go about all day,
looking after the house, and I think all the time, if only you could marry a rich man,
then I'd be happy and would go away somewhere by myself, then to Kiev ... to
Moscow, and so on, from one holy place to another. I'd tramp and tramp. That would
be splendid! (1.62)

As caretaker of the estate, Varya doesn't think of marriage in terms of love. Anya's marriage to a
rich man would be a suitable solution for a difficult problem and would allow Varya to do what
she wants.

TROFIMOV. Varya's afraid we may fall in love with each other and won't get away
from us for days on end. Her narrow mind won't allow her to understand that we are
above love. (2.145)

As usual, Trofimov lacks compassion for those around him. His idealistic, militant perspective
keeps him from seeing the need that motivates others in Varya's case, her loneliness.

Quote #8

VARYA. I can't propose to him myself, little mother. People have been talking about
him to me for two years now, but he either says nothing, or jokes about it. I
understand. He's getting rich, he's busy, he can't bother about me. (3.47)

Varya seems to be the character who is most trapped by external circumstances. She's stuck
taking care of the estate. Why is it that Lopakhin is the only option for her marriage?

Quote #9

TROFIMOV As if I'd ever given her grounds to believe I'd stoop to such vulgarity!
We are above love.

LUBOV. Then I suppose I must be beneath love. (4.53-54)

Trofimov claims that love is a waste of time. Lubov regards love as an overpowering force. Does
Chekhov seem to believe one or the other?

LUBOV. I love him, that's plain, I love him, I love him. ... That love is a stone round
my neck; I'm going with it to the bottom, but I love that stone and can't live without it.
(4.60)

Lubov goes from tearing up her lover's telegrams to planning to return to him. What happened?
Did she love him the whole time? Or is he something to run to when the cherry orchard is lost?

MORTALITY
There's a good amount of death in The Cherry Orchard. It is mentioned over and over. The memory of
a dead son and husband haunt the main character, Lubov. The clown threatens to kill himself.

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Departing family describe the house as "at the end of its life." And though Chekhov isn't explicit about
it, we're pretty sure we witness the death of Fiers, the loyal old servant. Just like the shifting social
landscape, death is an inevitable part of life.

Questions About Mortality

1. Do you believe Epikhodov might kill himself?

2. How do the deaths of her husband and son affect Lubov's relationship to the orchard?
3. Do you think Fiers dies at the end of the play? If so, why?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Death is a shadow that drives Lubov to love.

The Cherry Orchard is about the death of a way of life.

ANYA. [Thoughtfully] Father died six years ago, and a month later my brother
Grisha was drowned in the river--such a dear little boy of seven! (1.75)

From the beginning of the play, death is on the characters' minds. They remember the deaths of
Lubov's husband and Grisha, and regularly comment on Fiers's closeness to death.

Quote #2

FIERS. [Joyfully] The mistress is home again. I've lived to see her! Don't care if I die
now. ... [Weeps with joy.] (1.80)

Like Anfisa in Three Sisters, Fiers is the dedicated old servant who eventually outlives his
usefulness. He becomes a burden, a problem to be dealt with, even as he seeks to serve.

Quote #3

LUBOV. Thank you, Fiers. Thank you, dear old man. I'm so glad you're still with us.
(1.96)

Fiers is a link to times gone by. The fact that he's still alive, wearing his livery, scolding Gaev as
if he were a child, allows Lubov to hang on to the past.

GAEV. Nurse has died in your absence.

LUBOV. [Sits and drinks coffee] Yes, bless her soul. I heard by letter. (1.103-104)

Gaev catches Lubov up on who's dead and who's moved.

Quote #5

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 VARYA. He's been mumbling away for three years. We're used to that.

YASHA. Senile decay. (1.142)

Trofimov isn't a very compassionate guy, but Yasha takes the cake. He has nothing but contempt
for the ailing Fiers.

Quote #6

TROFIMOV. Peter Trofimov, once the tutor of your Grisha. ... Have I changed so
much? (1.170)

[LUBOV ANDREYEVNA embraces him and cries softly.]

Lubov hasn't seen Trofimov since her son's death. She associates him with the tragedy. Perhaps
she hadn't expected to see such a vivid reminder of Grisha.

TROFIMOV. Who knows? And what does it mean--you'll die? Perhaps a man has a
hundred senses, and when he dies only the five known to us are destroyed and the
remaining ninety-five are left alive. (2.102)

Trofimov presents an alternate version of life after death. His ideas are inspired by science, not
religion.

Quote #8

GAEV [Not loudly, as if declaiming] O Nature, thou art wonderful, thou shinest with
eternal radiance! Oh, beautiful and indifferent one, thou whom we call mother, thou
containest in thyself existence and death, thou livest and destroyest. (2.111)

Again, Gaev gives a ridiculous, inappropriate speech that nonetheless provides context. Despite
Gaev's personal attachment to the cherry orchard and the estate, in this moment he recognizes his
own minuteness. In the vastness of time and nature, his desires don't matter.

Quote #9

YASHA. I'm tired of you, grandfather. [Yawns] If you'd only hurry up and kick the
bucket. (3.76)

Fiers is hardworking and subservient, while Yasha is lazy and impertinent. Perhaps Yasha wants
Fiers out of the way so he doesn't suffer by comparison.

EPIKHODOV. The aged Fiers, in my conclusive opinion, isn't worth mending; his
forefathers had better have him. I only envy him. (4.40)

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 Epikhodov is also somewhat of a lazy, impertinent employee. Like Yasha, he probably wouldn't
mind if the faithful Fiers died. But in the face of Dunyasha's rejection, he's become casually
suicidal himself.

Quote #11

FIERS. [Lying down] I'll lie down. ...You've no strength left in you, nothing left at
all. ... Oh, you ...bungler! [He lies without moving.] (1.134)

Chekhov doesn't come out and say it, but it looks like Fiers has died. Lubov and Gaev, despite
their affection for Fiers, have departed without leaving provision for him.

HOME
The Cherry Orchard begins with a homecoming. The main character Lubov believes that, in returning
home, she can restore her life to a state of innocence. Ever heard that saying, "You can never go home
again?" Lubov learns the hard way. Home has become a bittersweet mixture of happy and sad
memories, worry, and conflict. It's under siege by economic forces and social change. The Cherry
Orchard begins with a homecoming, but ends just six months later with an eviction.

Questions About Home

1. How does each character define home?

2. What does Lubov come home looking for?
3. What do you make of Charlotta's homelessness?
4. Why is Varya left behind to look after the house?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Trofimov's home is in his head, and he invites Anya to live there.

Abandoned to the estate and, at the end of the play, a new family, Varya is just as orphaned as
Charlotta.

VARYA. Well, you've come, glory be to God. Home again. [Caressing

her] My darling is home again! My pretty one is back again! (1.43)

For Varya, the return of Lubov and Anya changes the definition of home. The house becomes not
just a responsibility and headache, but a source of love and comfort.

Quote #2

ANYA. We went to Paris; it's cold there and snowing. I talk French perfectly
horribly. My mother lives on the fifth floor. I go to her, and find her there with
various Frenchmen, women, an old abb with a book, and everything in tobacco
smoke and with no comfort at all. I suddenly became very sorry for mother--so sorry
that I took her head in my arms and hugged her and wouldn't let her go. Then mother
started hugging me and crying. (1.48)

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 When Anya sees her mother far from home, among strangers, she plays the role of comforter.
In The Cherry Orchard, the older generation often needs to be cared for.

Quote #3

ANYA. How's business? Has the interest been paid?

VARYA. Not much chance of that.

ANYA. Oh God, oh God ...

VARYA. The place will be sold in August.

ANYA. O God. (1.52-56)

When she first arrives home, Anya is completely in line with her mother's point of view: the
estate must be saved. Her opinion changes as the play goes on.

LUBOV. God knows I love my own country, I love it deeply; I couldn't look out of
the railway carriage, I cried so much. (1.96)

Lubov is immensely moved and relieved to return home. Does she intend to stay?

Quote #5

LOPAKHIN. As you already know, your cherry orchard is to be sold to pay your
debts, and the sale is fixed for August 22. (1.107)

Lopakhin spends a good deal of the play strategizing about how to save the estate. He has a
sentimental attachment too, but Gaev and Lubov refuse to acknowledge it.

Quote #6

GAEV. This orchard is mentioned in the "Encyclopaedic Dictionary." (1.113)

Gaev's identity has been defined by his background, represented by the famous cherry orchard.
As the play ends, he attempts to redefine himself as a businessman

ANYA. What have you done to me, Peter? I don't love the cherry orchard as I used to.
I loved it so tenderly, I thought there was no better place in the world than our
orchard. (2.148)

Influenced by Trofimov's progressive ideals, Anya has loosened the nostalgic grip of her
childhood home. She's growing up, distinguishing herself from her mother.

Quote #8

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 LUBOV. I was born here, my father and mother lived here, my grandfather too, I
love this house. I couldn't understand my life without that cherry orchard, and if it
really must be sold, sell me with it! My son was drowned here. (3.56)

Lubov is excitable. She exaggerates. But if we really believe that the orchard defines her, the loss
of it is much more tragic.

Quote #9

LUBOV. I'll sit here one more minute. It's as if I'd never really noticed what the walls
and ceilings of this house were like, and now I look at them greedily, with such
tender love. (4.105)

For all her life, Lubov looked at her home as a loved one, so familiar, accepted and dismissed. As
she looks for the last time, she tries to consume the house with her eyes, to take it with her.

LUBOV. My dear, my gentle, beautiful orchard! My life, my youth, my happiness,

good-bye! Good-bye! (4.126)

Can a person's identity truly be linked to a place? Will Lubov really cease to be Lubov when the
cherry orchard is cut down?

TIME
"Time," says Lopakhin the businessman, "does go" (1.83). Profound? Not so much but a strong
undercurrent in The Cherry Orchard. Characters are acutely aware of the passage of time. The
industrious characters (Varya and Lopakhin) check their watches regularly, reflecting the industrial
age's increasingly strict relationship to time. The more old-fashioned, leisurely characters lament their
age. They comment on the weather as it changes from May to October. Some of them even celebrate
the 100th birthday of a bookcase.

Questions About Time

1. Chekhov is pretty specific about when the events take place: from May to October. Why?
2. Can you divide the characters into camps pro-orchard or anti-orchard depending on their
age?
3. Trofimov says that man is evolving over time. Is that thesis carried out by the play?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Trofimov's virginity represents his immaturity.

Lopakhin and Varya share a punctuality, related to their work ethic, that distinguishes them from the
other characters.

LOPAKHIN. The train's arrived, thank God. What's the time?

DUNYASHA. It will soon be two. [Blows out candle] It is light already. (1.1-2)

77
 The first line of the play gives us a lot of information. We don't know who Lopakhin is, but we
know that a train has brought something he desperately wants. And that he's anxious about time.
The situation of the play saving the orchard before time runs out is hinted at very early.

Quote #2

LOPAKHIN. Yes, time does go.

GAEV. Who does?

LOPAKHIN. I said that time does go. (1.83-85)

Lopakhin's not really trying to philosophize; he's just making conversation until he gets up the
nerve to talk about the cherry orchard.

Quote #3

VARYA. [To LOPAKHIN and PISCHIN] Well, sirs, it's getting on for three, quite
time you went.

LUBOV. [Laughs] You're just the same as ever, Varya. (1.93-94)

Varya is the house's rule-keeper. She has a pragmatic view of time that seems well-matched with
Lopakhin's.

LOPAKHIN. [Looks at his watch] I'm going away at once, I haven't much time ... but
I'll tell you all about it in two or three words. (1.107)

This is how Lopakhin introduces the idea of chopping down the orchard? By rushing through it in
two or three words? Lopakhin's approach points up his frame of reference so different from
Lubov, who is leisurely drinking her coffee.

Quote #5

LOPAKHIN. We shall see each other in three weeks. [Kisses LUBOV

ANDREYEVNA'S hand] Now, good-bye. It's time to go. (1.148)

As a representative of the modern, business-minded, time-obsessed world, Lopakhin constantly

has to wrangle the lax, old-world Ranevskaya family.

Quote #6

GAEV. And do you know, Luba, how old this case is? A week ago I took out the
bottom drawer; I looked and saw figures burnt out in it. That case was made exactly a
hundred years ago. What do you think of that? What? We could celebrate its jubilee.
It hasn't a soul of its own, but still, say what you will, it's a fine bookcase. (1.127)

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 Gaev's speech to the 100-year-old cabinet may be silly, but it reminds us of the history of the
estate and how much has changed in the last century.

GAEV. I'm a man of the eighties. ... People don't praise those years much, but I can
still say that I've suffered for my beliefs. (1.214)

Gaev admits his antiquity without embarrassment. There's almost a willful denial of progress in
the things he says.

Quote #8

FIERS. I'm not well. At our balls some time back, generals and barons and admirals
used to dance, and now we send for post-office clerks and the Station-master, and
even they come as a favour. I'm very weak. (3.75)

Even more than Lubov and Gaev, Fiers regrets how things have changed over time. By
juxtaposing his observations of their social decline with comments about Fiers's health, Chekhov
seems to hint that the two are (at least symbolically) connected.

Quote #9

Ladies and gentlemen, please remember that it's only forty-seven minutes till the
train goes! You must go off to the station in twenty minutes. Hurry up. (4.10)

Lopakhin keeps time in the play, from beginning to end. It's clear that his modern and efficient
way of doing things has triumphed over Lubov's romantic and elliptical way.

WEALTH
When it comes to money, nobody's neutral in The Cherry Orchard. Characters are begging for it,
borrowing it, planning to make more of it, or proudly declaring their independence from it. An
aristocratic family, impractical and nave, continues to spend as they might have a hundred years ago.
They've never worked for money and can't begin now. Meanwhile, the son of a serf draws on his
resources mainly, a willingness to work hard to build a fortune.

Questions About Wealth

1. Is Trofimov really indifferent to his poverty?

2. How important is money to Lopakhin?
3. Why does Lubov throw money away?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

With his industrious collection of money, Pischik is a comic foil for Lubov.

Lopakhin ceaselessly pursues wealth to bury his father's memory.

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 ANYA. She's already sold her villa near Mentone; she's nothing left, nothing. And I
haven't a copeck left either; we only just managed to get here. And mother won't
understand! We had dinner at a station; she asked for all the expensive things, and
tipped the waiters one rouble each. And Charlotta too. Yasha wants his share too--it's
too bad. Mother's got a footman now, Yasha; we've brought him here. (1.50)

Though she was raised by Lubov, Anya doesn't have the attachment to luxury she criticizes here.
Perhaps, like Varya, she's always lived with anxiety about money.

Quote #2

GAEV. My sister hasn't lost the habit of throwing money about. (1.189)

Like Lubov, Gaev accepts flagrancy with money as part of his birthright. He notices that his sister
wastes a lot of money, but certainly makes no move to stop her.

Quote #3

LUBOV. [Looks in her purse] I had a lot of money yesterday, but there's very little
to-day. My poor Varya feeds everybody on milk soup to save money, in the kitchen
the old people only get peas, and I spend recklessly. [Drops the purse, scattering gold
coins] There, they are all over the place. (2.29)

Dropping the gold coins gives us a visual symbol of Lubov's recklessness with money. She
recognizes her problem, but does nothing to change her behavior.

PISCHIK. But the trouble is, I've no money! A hungry dog only believes in meat.
[Snores and wakes up again immediately] So I ...only believe in money. (3.1)

Pischik is the comic foil to Ranevskaya and Gaev. Like them, he's a landowner in need of cash to
pay his mortgage, but Chekhov writes him as a buffoon. In the end, Pischik gives in to
development by allowing a company to drill on his land.

Quote #5

TROFIMOV. [To PISCHIK] If the energy which you, in the course of your life, have
spent in looking for money to pay interest had been used for something else, then, I
believe, after all, you'd be able to turn everything upside down. (3.9)

While Lubov and Gaev spend little time trying to solve their problem, Pischik is constantly
running around looking for money. He's rewarded at the end of the play by the discovery of
natural resources on his land.

Quote #6

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 TROFIMOV. I think, Ermolai Alexeyevitch, that you're a rich man, and you'll soon
be a millionaire. Just as the wild beast which eats everything it finds is needed for
changes to take place in matter, so you are needed too. (3.95)

Trofimov looks at most things and people (except for Anya) from a scientific perspective. He
regards Lopakhin's wealth as a necessary force of nature.

LOPAKHIN. You know, I get up at five every morning, I work from morning till
evening, I am always dealing with money--my own and other people's--and I see
what people are like. You've only got to begin to do anything to find out how few
honest, honourable people there are. (3.106)

Lopakhin is attracted to the romance and nostalgia of Lubov's household, but he's a pragmatist.
The pettiness of people doesn't depress him; it's something he acknowledges and accepts.

Quote #8

LOPAKHIN. In the spring I sowed three thousand acres of poppies, and now I've
made forty thousand roubles net profit. And when my poppies were in flower, what a
picture it was! So I, as I was saying, made forty thousand roubles, and I mean I'd like
to lend you some, because I can afford it. Why turn up your nose at it? I'm just a
simple peasant. (4.28)

We wonder why Lopakhin is so adamant about offering money? Does he truly want to help
Trofimov? Does he want some power over him? As Lubov has rejected his help, is he searching
for a way to feel useful?

Quote #9

TROFIMOV. Even if you gave me twenty thousand I should refuse. I'm a free man.
And everything that all you people, rich and poor, value so highly and so dearly
hasn't the least influence over me; it's like a flock of down in the wind. (4.29)

Trofimov claims to be above love and above money. We don't really believe his claims about
love he's obviously smitten with Anya but he does seem genuinely indifferent to money. What
do you think?

GAEV. I'm a bank official now, and a financier (4.55)

Gaev is going to try working for a living, and seems to derive some pleasure from anticipating
how industrious he'll be. Lopakhin believes Gaev will give up.

CONTRASTING REGIONS
Many of the characters in The Cherry Orchard pinball between "there" and "here" in futile efforts of
escape. Lubov runs from her unhappy relationship in Paris, believing that Russia will offer her stability
and comfort. When she realizes that home in Russia is just as unstable as abroad, maybe more so, she
runs back. Her servant Yasha shares her desire to leave, but he only wants a one-way ticket from his
peasant background to the good and lazy life in Paris.

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Questions About Contrasting Regions

1. Why does Chekhov choose Paris as the setting for Lubov's other life?
2. Of all the characters, Yasha seems to be the most certain that he wants to return to Paris.
Why?
3. Why does Lubov return to Russia in the first place?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

At the beginning of the play, Anya finds Paris inhospitable and Russia the only place to be. Trofimov
expands her field of vision, igniting in her a desire for travel.

Dunyasha seeks Yasha's attention hoping that his sheen of worldliness will rub off on her.

ANYA. We went to Paris; it's cold there and snowing. I talk French perfectly
horribly. My mother lives on the fifth floor. I go to her, and find her there with
various Frenchmen, women, an old abb with a book, and everything in tobacco
smoke and with no comfort at all. (1.48)

Anya reacts negatively to the foreignness of Paris: the living quarters, the language, the people,
the religion, and the habits. She wants to save her mother from this alien world.

Quote #2

LUBOV. But suppose I'm dreaming! God knows I love my own country, I love it
deeply; I couldn't look out of the railway carriage, I cried so much. (1.96)

Lubov's overwhelming emotional response upon returning home creates high stakes for the loss
of that home. It also increases our frustration when Lubov does nothing to save it.

Quote #3

LUBOV. Last year, when they had sold the villa to pay my debts, I went away to
Paris, and there he robbed me of all I had and threw me over and went off with
another woman. I tried to poison myself. ... It was so silly, so shameful. ... And
suddenly I longed to be back in Russia, my own land, with my little girl. (2.59)

For Lubov, escaping to Russia becomes the solution to the problems in Paris. When the problems
in Russia become insurmountable, she'll return to Paris.

DUNYASHA. I hardly knew you, Yasha. You have changed abroad. (1.66)

Dunyasha is attracted to Yasha's new cosmopolitan airs. Her crush seems to stem from a
combination of sexual interest and a belief that he might be a key to upward mobility.

Quote #5

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 PISCHIK. [To LUBOV ANDREYEVNA] What about Paris? Eh? Did you eat
frogs?

LUBOV. I ate crocodiles. (1.120)

Lubov's stay in Paris gives her an exoticism that excites the men at home.

Quote #6

VARYA. There are two telegrams for you, little mother. [Picks out a key and noisily
unlocks an antique cupboard] Here they are.

LUBOV. They're from Paris. ... [Tears them up without reading them] I've done with
Paris. (1.125)

In a wily use of a prop the telegram Chekhov gives us a visual representation of Lubov's
changing attitude toward home and Paris. In Act 1, she tears the telegrams up without reading
them. By Act 3, she's hiding them in her sleeve.

CHARLOTTA. [Thoughtfully] I haven't a real passport. (2.1)

Charlotta's the only character without a strong allegiance to Paris or Russia. Her independence
frees her from the painful attachments of, say, Lubov, but it doesn't seem to fulfill her.

Quote #8

DUNYASHA. [To YASHA] Still, it must be nice to live abroad.

YASHA. Yes, certainly. I cannot differ from you there. [Yawns and lights a cigar.]

EPIKHODOV. That is perfectly natural. Abroad everything is in full complexity.

(2.6-8)

Epikhodov tries to sound educated and knowledgeable to compete with Yasha. Instead, he makes
strange pronouncements like this.

Quote #9

YASHA. If you go to Paris again, then please take me with you. It's absolutely
impossible for me to stop here. [Looking round; in an undertone] What's the good of
talking about it, you see for yourself that this is an uneducated country, with an
immoral population, and it's so dull. (3.92)

Yasha has none of the sentimental attachment to Russia shared by Lubov, Gaev, and Anya. He
wants excitement and escape. He also wants to sever ties with his peasant past, in the shape of his
mother.

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 YASHA. What's the use of crying? [Drinks champagne] In six days I'll be again in
Paris. To-morrow we get into the express and off we go. I can hardly believe it. Vive
la France! It doesn't suit me here, I can't live here ... it's no good. Well, I've seen the
uncivilized world; I have had enough of it. [Drinks champagne] (4.49)

Though they come from the same place, Yasha uses his travel as an excuse to discard Dunyasha
as something lower than he.

THE CHERRY ORCHARD CHARACTERS

LUBOV ANDREYEVNA RANEVSKAYA

Lubov and Money

In Act 2, Lopakhin says of Lubov and her brother, "I've never met such frivolous people as you before,
or anybody so unbusinesslike and peculiar" (2.44). He has a point. Chekhov shows Lubov throwing her
money away so many times it's almost overkill. She loans money to Pischik in Act 1. She overtips the
waiters in Act 2, then gives a homeless man a gold piece. Act 4 opens with Gaev chiding her for giving
the peasants her whole purse. Why, Lubov, why?

Well, here are a few reasons. Money is not a precious thing to Lubov. She doesn't work for her money
and perhaps has never truly understood that it's not an inexhaustible resource. Chekhov (who, let's
remember, had two jobs) is critiquing the idleness of Russian aristocrats who, at the time he was
writing, were meeting their economic comeuppance.

The critique is tempered, however, by the fact of Lubov's deeply generous nature. When she's
presented with a human face asking her for help, she freely gives it. This nurturing quality is central to
her character. As Lopakhin recalls:

She's a good sort--an easy, simple person. I remember when I was a boy of fifteen, my father, who is
dead--he used to keep a shop in the village here--hit me on the face with his fist, and my nose bled. ...We
had gone into the yard together for something or other, and he was a little drunk. Lubov Andreyevna, as
I remember her now, was still young, and very thin, and she took me to the washstand here in this very
room, the nursery. She said, "Don't cry, little man, it'll be all right in time for your wedding."(1.5)

Lopakhin remembers this moment of kindness for the rest of his life.

Lubov and Love

Lubov lives for love. It's in the way she moves, as Gaev says. It influences all her actions, including her
way with money, as we discussed above. She freely gives money to everyone from the homeless to her
worthless lover in Paris. In Act 3, Lubov confesses to Trofimov that she wants to return to her love.
Trofimov is outraged. How can she return to someone who robbed her blind? She doesn't care about
that. He needs her:

LUBOV. That wild man is ill again, he's bad again. ... He begs for forgiveness, and implores me to come,
and I really ought to go to Paris to be near him. You look severe, Peter, but what can I do, my dear, what
can I do; he's ill, he's alone, unhappy, and who's to look after him, who's to keep him away from his
errors, to give him his medicine punctually? And why should I conceal it and say nothing about it; I love
him, that's plain, I love him, I love him. ...That love is a stone round my neck; I'm going with it to the
bottom, but I love that stone and can't live without it. (3.60)

Human connections define and motivate Lubov, and she encourages them in others: in Anya and
Trofimov, Varya and Lopakhin. Her emotional nature drives her decisions, and is part of what makes it
impossible for her to let go of the past.

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Lubov and the Past
It breaks our heart when Lubov sees her mother in the orchard. She's in the nursery, willing herself
back in time:

LUBOV. [Looks out into the garden] Oh, my childhood, days of my innocence! In this nursery I used to
sleep; I used to look out from here into the orchard. Happiness used to wake with me every morning, and
then it was just as it is now; nothing has changed.

Suddenly a tree branch shape-shifts into a woman in white, Lubov's mother. Lubov holds the
impossible hope that returning home can make her a child again. She'd like to wipe out everything
shameful and unpleasant in her adult life. To start over. In some ways, as Lubov gives up the orchard
and acknowledges the present, we're watching her grow up again.

Lubov returns to her childhood home in Russia after five years in Paris. She was involved
there with a man who bled her dry financially, then cheated on her.
She learns from Lopakhin that the estate will be sold in three months. She and her brother
Gaev reject Lopakhin's suggestion of turning the orchard into vacation lots.
Lubov sees Trofimov, her son's old tutor, and is reminded of Grisha's death.
In the second act, Lubov still refuses to come up with a plan for the estate. She continues to
spend money unwisely.
The third act finds Lubov waiting anxiously for the result of the auction. Gaev's been sent with
far too little money.
She learns that Lopakhin has bought the estate. She is crushed.
In Act 4, Lubov is leaving home again, with the intention of returning to her lover in Paris.

ERMOLAI LOPAKHIN

Lopakhin the Peasant

Lopakhin is the son of a former serf (essentially a slave) who worked on Lubov's estate. He was a
drunk and ignorant man who beat Lopakhin. Like his father, Lopakhin isn't an educated man, and
admits as much: "Here I've been reading this book, but I understood nothing. I read and fell asleep"
(1.5). Both Lubov and Gaev make references to Lopakhin's lack of refinement, and it's one of the
reasons they don't listen to him. In their opinion, as a former peasant, Lopakhin surely can't appreciate
the value of the orchard's beauty he wants to cut it down, for goodness' sake.

LUBOV. Cut it down? My dear man, you must excuse me, but you don't understand anything at all. If
there's anything interesting or remarkable in the whole province, it's this cherry orchard of ours. (1.111)

And it's true, Lopakhin can be tactless and oblivious. At the end of the play he shows extreme
insensitivity in cutting down the cherry trees before Lubov has even left. But Chekhov didn't write a
caveman. Lopakhin has the hands of an artist, remarks Trofimov, and he recognizes beauty. He just
can't afford to place beauty over everything else. He tells Trofimov:

LOPAKHIN. In the spring I sowed three thousand acres of poppies, and now I've made forty thousand
roubles net profit. And when my poppies were in flower, what a picture it was! So I, as I was saying,
made forty thousand roubles, and I mean I'd like to lend you some, because I can afford it. Why turn up
your nose at it? I'm just a simple peasant. ...(4.28)

In the middle of a conversation about money, Lopakhin has a moment of reverie in the beauty of the
poppies. Then it's back to business.

The Big Monologue

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In a play that's sparing with show-stopping moments, Lopakhin's Big Monologue stands out. He returns
from the auction, a little drunk, and announces that he's bought the orchard. The music screeches to a
stop. What begins as a careful retelling of the auction's progress morphs into a cathartic confession of
Lopakhin's deepest motives. Lubov's pain is far from his mind as he exults:

The cherry orchard is mine now, mine! [Roars with laughter] My God, my God, the cherry orchard's
mine! Tell me I'm drunk, or mad, or dreaming. ... [Stamps his feet] Don't laugh at me! If my father and
grandfather rose from their graves and looked at the whole affair, and saw how their Ermolai, their
beaten and uneducated Ermolai, who used to run barefoot in the winter, how that very Ermolai has
bought an estate, which is the most beautiful thing in the world! I've bought the estate where my
grandfather and my father were slaves, where they weren't even allowed into the kitchen. (3.151)

The speech is a fascinating dramatic moment. Lopakhin's joy and release is so big and ugly we want to
look away even as we applaud the justice of his act. We feel bad for Lubov but doesn't she kind of
deserve to hear it? In its contradictions and divided allegiances, this moment is pure Chekhov.

Why Doesn't He Marry Varya!?

It's a topic of conversation from Act 1 straight through Act 4. Varya wants to marry Lopakhin, though
her motives may be questionable. And Lopakhin never seems exactly against the idea. So why, when
Lubov gives him a final prod, does he sit with Varya in silence, talk about the weather, then scram
gratefully when someone calls his name? We've turned this one over in our minds a lot, and considered
the following explanations:

1. He just doesn't want to get married at all.

2. He's actually in love with Lubov.
3. He wants to focus on his business. (Varya consoles herself with this one.)
4. To truly escape his peasant past, he must break all ties with it. He cuts down the orchard
where his father was a serf; he tears down the house. How could he possibly marry into the
family that enslaved his?
5. All of the above.

What do you think?

Lopakhin welcomes Lubov, who's just returned from Paris. He reminds her that the estate
auction has been set for August 22nd, and suggests a plan to save the estate. Lubov is not
interested.
In Act 2, Lopakhin urges Lubov and Gaev to take action, but they decline. He gets frustrated.
Lopakhin buys the orchard. He plans to turn it into vacation homes right away.
Lopakhin sees off Lubov and the family. He does not propose to Varya.

TROFIMOV

Trofimov the Revolutionary

When Trofimov speaks, it's hard not hear the voice of Chekhov. He talks about work: "everything that
is unattainable now will some day be near at hand and comprehensible, but we must work" (2.105).
He's concerned with human health: "the vast majority of uslive like savages, fighting and cursing at
the slightest opportunity, eating filthily, sleeping in the dirt, in stuffiness, with fleas, stinks, smells,
moral filth" (2.105). He's idealistic: "My soul is always my own; every minute of the day and the night
it is filled with unspeakable presentiments. I know that happiness is coming, Anya, I see it already"
(2.153). He is the revolutionary obsessed with the future, while those around him are trapped in the
past. Anya is his follower, and he makes her understand the wider sociopolitical impact of her family's
history:

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Think, Anya, your grandfather, your great-grandfather, and all your ancestors were serf-owners, they
owned living souls; and now, doesn't something human look at you from every cherry in the orchard,
every leaf and every stalk? (2.149)

As an outsider, Trofimov brings an objective viewpoint to the situation. He doesn't side with Lubov or
Lopakhin when it comes to the cherry orchard. When asked what he thinks of Lopakhin, Trofimov
replies:

TROFIMOV. I think, Ermolai Alexeyevitch, that you're a rich man, and you'll soon be a millionaire. Just
as the wild beast which eats everything it finds is needed for changes to take place in matter, so you are
needed too. (2.95)

Trofimov likes the businessman, despite his materialism, and engages Lopakhin as an equal (which is
more than Lubov and Gaev do).

Trofimov the Eternal Student

Trofimov is intelligent and impassioned, but he's also immature. There's a reason Chekhov calls him
the Eternal Student. He's judgmental and unforgiving, and Lubov blames it on his youth:

You boldly look forward, isn't it because you cannot foresee or expect anything terrible, because so far
life has been hidden from your young eyes? You are bolder, more honest, deeper than we are, but think
only, be just a little magnanimous, and have mercy on me. (3.65)

Trofimov lacks real world experience and lacks Lubov's emotional intelligence, her power to
empathize with others' pain. His pigheadedness earns him some ridicule. After Lubov's scathing
assessment at the party (her only moment of open cruelty) he falls down the stairs.

LEONID ANDREYEVICH GAEV

Gaev the Big Baby

Lopakhin calls Gaev an old woman, but we think Gaev is more like a big baby. He loves candy, plays
air-pool, and still can't dress himself. Fiers continually worries over his choice of clothing: "[Brushing
GAEV'S trousers; in an insistent tone] You've put on the wrong trousers again. What am I to do with
you?" (1.159). The small details hint at Gaev's immaturity. He's been spoiled and babied all his life;
there's no way he's up to the challenge he and Lubov now face. He tells Varya:

I work my brains to their hardest. I've several remedies, very many, and that really means I've none at all.
It would be nice to inherit a fortune from somebody, it would be nice to marry our Anya to a rich man, it
would be nice to go to Yaroslav and try my luck with my aunt the Countess. (1.197)

These strokes of luck are the only options Gaev can imagine. The idea of working himself does not
occur to him yet.

Gaev's Speeches
Gaev is notorious for lecturing at length, at any and all times, on any and all subjects. First we are
subjected to an ode to a bookcase:

GAEV. My dear and honored case! I congratulate you on your existence, which has already for more
than a hundred years been directed towards the bright ideals of good and justice; your silent call to
productive labor has not grown less in the hundred years [Weeping] during which you have upheld
virtue and faith in a better future to the generations of our race, educating us up to ideals of goodness
and to the knowledge of a common consciousness. [Pause.] (1.129)

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Why on earth would Chekhov have Gaev make a speech to a bookcase, except to make him look like a
numbskull? It's about context. Perhaps Gaev is thinking of the changes the bookcase and by
extension, the house has seen in the last hundred years. Remember, Lopakhin has just reminded them
that the orchard will be sold. Perhaps Gaev is thinking, all this will be gone soon. When the sun sets in
Act 2, Gaev declaims:

O Nature, thou art wonderful, thou shinest with eternal radiance! Oh, beautiful and indifferent one, thou
whom we call mother, thou containest in thyself existence and death, thou livest and destroyest. (2.111)

Everyone groans and tells him to zip it. He's just silly Uncle Leon. But in reality, what he says has a
bearing on their situation. The beauty of their land, soon to be littered with vacation homes, catches
him. Gaev acknowledges the indifference of nature and accepts that "all things must come to an end"
including, the life of the house and his own life.

Master Gaev
Gaev considers himself a generous benefactor of the peasants:

I can still say that I've suffered for my beliefs. The peasants don't love me for nothing, I assure you. We've
got to learn to know the peasants! We ought to learn how. ... (1.214)

But the reality is that he's deeply uncomfortable with them. When the Passerby enters the scene in Act
2, Gaev freezes, letting Lubov give away money she can't afford to lose. Only once the man has exited
does Gaev speak: "My hands are all trembling; I haven't played billiards for a long time" (2.139).

Gaev prefers peasants who fit into a familiar mode from the past, like Fiers. Upwardly mobile peasants
irritate him, and he rarely misses an opportunity to put both Yasha and Lopakhin "in their places,"
usually with a comic reference to what they smell like. When Lopakhin makes small talk in Act 1,
Gaev responds, "It smells of patchouli (cheap cologne) here" (1.86). And in the departure scene in Act
4, Gaev is quick to observe, glancing at Yasha, that "somebody smells of herring!" (4.52). Things in
Russia are changing too fast for Gaev.

ANYA

Everyone in the play is a little obsessed with Lubov's seventeen-year-old daughter Anya. Dunyasha
calls her "darling" and "pet" (1.32), and Varya calls her "darling" and "pretty one" (1.43). Gaev gets a
little crazy telling her good night: "My darling! [Kisses ANYA'S face and hands] My child. ... [Crying]
You're not my niece, you're my angel, you're my all" (1.204). And when Trofimov sees her at the end
of Act 1, he whispers, "My sun! My spring!" (1.223). Anya, Anya, Anya. What's so special about her?

As befitting the Eternal Student, Trofimov has hit it on the head. She's Spring. She's what the older
generation wishes they still were: a child. All of her life choices are ahead of her, not in a past to be
regretted.

A surprisingly minor and inactive character, Anya does undergo one important change in the play. In
Act 1, she shares her mother's viewpoint entirely. She loves home and agonizes with Varya over the
fate of the orchard:

ANYA. Oh God, oh God ...

VARYA. The place will be sold in August.
ANYA. O God. ... (1.54-56)

At the end of Act 2, her romance with Trofimov has changed her:

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What have you done to me, Peter? I don't love the cherry orchard as I used to. I loved it so tenderly, I
thought there was no better place in the world than our orchard. (2.148)

She promises to leave the estate. When the orchard is sold, Anya, sensitive and caring like her mother,
comforts Lubov: "don't cry mother, you've still got your life before you, you've still your beautiful pure
soul" (3.134). But her relief is apparent as they leave. Even Lubov notices it through her grief:

LUBOV. [Passionately kisses her daughter] My treasure, you're radiant, your eyes flash like two jewels!
Are you happy? Very?

ANYA. Very! A new life is beginning, mother!(4.53-54)

Young and full of curiosity, Anya wants to read and study. She's still able to change her mind and her
ways. She embodies hope

VARYA

We don't know about you, but if we had to choose to be someone in this play, it wouldn't be Varya. She
has it hard. Nobody calls her "darling" or "pretty one" like they do Anya. Lubov, her own (adopted)
mother observes, "Varya is just as she used to be, just like a nun" (1.26). Always jangling her
caretaker's keychain, she's uptight, conservative, a bit bossy. When Lubov returns, Varya tries to keep
Trofimov away and runs everybody off: "Well, sirs, it's getting on for three, quite time you went"
(1.93).

Varya's not a laugh, but how could she be? She carries the responsibility of the entire estate. When
Lubov wastes money on elaborate lunches, does Lubov face the starving peasants? Nope. It's Varya.
No wonder she wants to escape to a convent. Her encounters with the world have been less than
inspiring.

Is she in love with Lopakhin? Who knows? She's lonely. She's a practical woman and she respects him.
He works as hard as she does and knows the value of a buck. But, as she says, she can't propose to him
herself.

FIERS

Chekhov describes Fiers's first entrance like so: "leaning on a stick, [he] walks quickly across the stage;
he has just been to meet Lubov Andreyevna. He wears an old-fashioned livery and a tall hat" (1.24).
We immediately know 1) he's old, 2) he's old-fashioned, and 3) he hops to it when his mistress needs
something. Fiers is 87 years old and thinks things were better before the serfs were freed: "When the
Emancipation came I was already first valet. Only I didn't agree with the Emancipation and remained
with my people. ... [Pause] I remember everybody was happy, but they didn't know why" (2.79).

Fiers is deaf and senile. This perfectly natural character detail enables Chekhov to repeatedly conjure
up old Russia:

FIERS. In the old days, forty or fifty years back, they dried the cherries, soaked them and pickled them,
and made jam of them, and it used to happen that...

GAEV. Be quiet, Fiers.

FIERS. And then we'd send the dried cherries off in carts to Moscow and Kharkov. And money! And the
dried cherries were soft, juicy, sweet, and nicely scented...They knew the way....

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LUBOV. What was the way?

FIERS. They've forgotten. Nobody remembers. (1.115-119)

With his memories, his loyalty to the family, the way he looks and behaves, Fiers stokes the fire of
Lubov and Gaev's attachment to the cherry orchard. He evokes the past. But with the estate in decline,
Fiers becomes a problem to solve. In Act 4, Lubov has "two anxieties []. The first is poor Fiers
[Looks at her watch]. We've still five minutes." (4.74). Anya assures her that Yasha has taken care of
Fiers. They've left the fate of the faithful old servant in the hands of the faithless young one. We can
guess what happens, but the ending of the play still shocks us. Fiers tries the handle to the door:

FIERS. It's locked. They've gone away. [Sits on a sofa] They've forgotten about me. ... Never mind, I'll sit
here. ... And Leonid Andreyevitch will have gone in a light overcoat instead of putting on his fur coat. ...
[Sighs anxiously] I didn't see. ... Oh, these young people! [Mumbles something that cannot be
understood] Life's gone on as if I'd never lived. [Lying down] I'll lie down. ... You've no strength left in
you, nothing left at all. ... Oh, you ...bungler!

[He lies without moving.] (1.134)

With the necessity of forward movement pressing on them, the family has forgotten Fiers. They
abandon him, a relic of the past.

BORIS SEMYONOV-PISCHIK
Pischik, Lubov's landowning neighbor, provides some context for the struggles of Lubov's family.
Pischik's constant search for money lets us know that the whole community of landowners faces the
same financial straits. Unlike Lubov, however, Pischik is entirely comic. He's always doing ridiculous
things like swallowing all of Lubov's pills or comparing himself to a horse. Every time he comes over,
he begs for money, even the first night Lubov is back in town:

PISCHIK. [Follows her] Yes, we've got to go to bed. ... Oh, my gout! I'll stay the night here. If only,
Lubov Andreyevna, my dear, you could get me 240 roubles to-morrow morning--

GAEV. Still the same story

PISCHIK. Two hundred and forty roubles ... to pay the interest on the mortgage.

LUBOV. I haven't any money, dear man.

PISCHIK. I'll give it back ... it's a small sum. ...

LUBOV. Well, then, Leonid will give it to you. ... Let him have it, Leonid.

GAEV. By all means; hold out your hand.

LUBOV. Why not? He wants it; he'll give it back. (1.181-182)

In the end, Pischik surprises everyone by paying back these little loans. Some Englishmen found clay
on his land and he's leased it to them. While Lubov and Gaev sneer at the idea of vacation homes in
their cherry orchard, Pischik's not too proud. His adaptability allows him to keep his estate.

SEMYON EPIKHODOV

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Epikhodov offers pretty much straight comic relief from his first entrance in Act 1, when he "enters
with a bouquet. He wears a short jacket and brilliantly polished boots which squeak audibly. He drops
the bouquet as he enters, then picks it up" (1.10). As an accountant for an estate with no money, his
very presence is kind of a joke. And he's a consistent source of slapstick humor and malapropisms
(words made up or used incorrectly). As Dunyasha notes early on, "he's a nice young man, but every
now and again, when he begins talking, you can't understand a word he's sayingHe's an unlucky man;
every day something happens. We tease him about it. They call him 'Two-and-twenty troubles'" (1.18).

Epikhodov's a clown, sure, but he also serves a deeper purpose in the play. In his unrequited love for
Dunyasha, he's an unfortunate victim of the "upward mobility fever" infecting the younger
working-class characters. Yasha's travels and gentlemanly pose attract Dunyasha, who fancies herself a
quasi-lady. Epikhodov seems beneath her now. He works hard to regain her attentions and mostly fails:

EPIKHODOV. I'm an educated man, I read various remarkable books, but I cannot understand the
direction I myself want to gowhether to live or to shoot myself, as it were. So, in case, I always carry a
revolver about with me. Here it is. [Shows a revolver.] (2.10)

There's something both amusing and sad about his pathetic attempts to win Dunyasha. To look cool, he
apes Yasha's impertinence in Act 3. He plays billiards, breaks a cue, and defies his boss, Varya.
Everything turns out OK for Epikhodov, however. When Lopakhin buys the estate, he leaves
Epikhodov in charge:

LOPAKHIN. Yes, all, I think. [To EPIKHODOV, putting on his coat] You see that everything's quite
straight, Epikhodov.
EPIKHODOV. [Hoarsely] You may depend upon me, Ermolai Alexeyevitch!
LOPAKHIN. What's the matter with your voice?
EPIKHODOV. I swallowed something just now; I was having a drink of water. (4.108-109)

What is Lopakhin thinking? Perhaps it's Chekhov's final comment on the age of gracelessness
descending on the estate.

DUNYASHA

Oh, Dunyasha. What a classic story, huh? Maid Runs Afoul of Dashing Young Rogue. And Yasha isn't
even a nobleman he's a servant posing as a nobleman.

Next to Yasha, Dunyasha probably has the least redeeming traits of any character in the play. She's
vain, self-absorbed, and silly about romance. Before Yasha enters the picture, she's telling everyone
about Epikhodov's crush on her. To the uninterested Lopakhin, she shares, "I may confess to you,
Ermolai Alexeyevitch, that Epikhodov has proposed to me" (1.16), and five minutes later informs
exhausted Anya:

DUNYASHA. I must tell you at once, I can't bear to wait a minute.

ANYA. [Tired] Something else now ...?

DUNYASHA. The clerk, Epikhodov, proposed to me after Easter.

ANYA. Always the same. ... (1.32-35)

What Epikhodov doesn't have is status. Dunyasha wants hers raised. She keeps her hands white (i.e.,
stays away from physical labor) and does her hair like a lady, attracting a reprimand from Lopakhin.
When Yasha appears arrogant, yawning, and probably all dressed up he seems to be an answer to
her prayers. He squeezes her once, calls her cucumber (ick), and she's a goner. In Act 2, she confesses:

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DUNYASHA. I'm awfully in love with you; you're educated, you can talk about everything. [Pause.]
YASHA. [Yawns] Yes. (2.20-21)

Of course it ends in heartbreak. Lubov decides to return to Paris pursuing her own good-for-nothing
crush and Yasha will go with her. Dunyasha hugs Yasha and cries:

DUNYASHA. [Looks in a small mirror and powders her face] Send me a letter from Paris. You know I
loved you, Yasha, so much! I'm a sensitive creature, Yasha. (4.50)

Just like her mistress, Dunyasha holds on to her illusions.

YASHA

In a play that meticulously strives to show both the good and bad in people, Yasha is pretty much all
bad. He's so unlikable that we wonder if Chekhov was working out some sort of grudge. An
opportunistic parasite, Yasha weasels his way into Lubov's favor; she seems to have a soft spot for
less-than-upstanding men. Yasha's not in the house five minutes before he preys on Dunyasha:

DUNYASHA. When you went away I was only so high. [Showing with her hand] I'm Dunyasha, the
daughter of Theodore Kozoyedov. You don't remember!

YASHA. Oh, you little cucumber!

[Looks round and embraces her. She screams and drops a saucer. YASHA goes out quickly.] (1.68-69)

She falls for him, though it's clear he's using her:

YASHA. [Yawns] Yes. I think this: if a girl loves anybody, then that means she's immoralSomebody's
coming. It's the mistress, and people with her. [DUNYASHA embraces him suddenly] Go to the house, as
if you'd been bathing in the river; go by this path, or they'll meet you and will think I've been meeting you.
I can't stand that sort of thing. (2.21)

He's happy to make out with her, call her cucumber (weird), and give her lessons on how to stay in her
place. He's not so happy being seen with her or jeopardizing his job.

Yasha's also unhappy remembering that he has a mother. When he first arrives, he refuses to see her,
and when he departs in Act 4, he complains, "She'll make me lose all patience!" (4.47). His mother is a
reminder of his peasant past the last thing he wants to think about. He can't wait to get on that train to
Paris.

Have you noticed that he yawns all the time, too? He acts like he's just above it all, including Russia.
After taking pains to point out the Lopakhin's champagne isn't the real stuff, he guzzles it:

YASHA. What's the use of crying? [Drinks champagne] In six days I'll be again in Paris. To-morrow we
get into the express and off we go. I can hardly believe it. Vive la France! It doesn't suit me here, I can't
live here ... it's no good. Well, I've seen the uncivilized world; I have had enough of it. [Drinks
champagne] (4.49)

Yasha's unappealing character his pretension, his dislike of work, his freeloading seems to be a
result of a new class structure in Russia sorting itself out. As Fiers says, before the Emancipation, "the
peasants kept their distance from the masters and the masters kept their distance from the peasants, but
now everything's all anyhow and you can't understand anything" (2.81).

CHARLOTTA

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Charlotta really doesn't fit in. She cultivates eccentricity, traveling with a little dog and doing magic
tricks so relentlessly that Anya complains. She is a single governess who teasingly resists any man's
attempt to flirt with her:

LOPAKHIN. Excuse me, Charlotta Ivanovna, I haven't said "How do you do" to you yet. [Tries to kiss
her hand.]

CHARLOTTA. [Takes her hand away] If you let people kiss your hand, then they'll want your elbow, then
your shoulder, and then... (1.143-144)

She is an orphan. Her parents were traveling performers, and when they died, a German lady took care
of her. Charlotta is unconventional and bohemian. While she doesn't share much stage time with
Trofimov, she seems to live some of his ideals: she is "free as the wind (1.151)" and nationless; she
might agree that "all Russia is our orchard. The world is great and beautiful, there are many marvelous
places in it" (2.149).

Chekhov gives her long speech a place of prominence, the opening of Act 2.

CHARLOTTA. And where I came from and who I am, I don't know. ... Who my parents were--perhaps
they weren't married--I don't know. [Takes a cucumber out of her pocket and eats] I don't know anything.
[Pause] I do want to talk, but I haven't anybody to talk to ... I haven't anybody at all. (2.1)

Charlotta has no parents, no home, no strong identification with the past none of the associations that
make giving up the orchard so excruciating for Lubov. Yet Charlotta is just as unfulfilled, if not more
so. She's lonely. She doesn't have anyone or anything to love. Perhaps Chekhov presents Charlotta as
the counterexample to Lubov, to remind us that having no attachments may not be ideal, either.

THE HOMELESS MAN/PASSERBY

Various translations call him various things, but the Passerby plays the same role no matter what we
call him: a rude awakening for the dreamy aristocrats. The sun has set, the "breaking string" sound is
heard and Fiers recalls the emancipation of the serfs. Enter the Passerby, drunk and begging for money.
Varya overreacts and shrieks, Lopakhin rushes to handle the situation, and Lubov offers a gold coin.
The Passerby reminds them of the reality of the land just outside their safe, comfortable estate. The
interaction is a direct reflection of Trofimov's criticism of Russian intellectuals: "They philosophize,
and at the same time, the vast majority of us, ninety-nine out of a hundred, live like savages it's
obvious that all our nice talk is only carried on to distract ourselves and others" (2.105).

THE STATIONMASTER (EF STANICE), POSTMASTER(UPRAVNIK POTE), AND

GUEST
These uninspiring people appear at the party to the disgust of Fiers, who has retained his high standards:
"I'm not well," he says. "At our balls some time back, generals and barons and admirals used to dance,
and now we send for post-office clerks and the Station-master, and even they come as a favor" (3.75).

THE CHERRY ORCHARD ANALYSIS

SYMBOLISM, IMAGERY, ALLEGORY

CHERRY ORCHARD

The beautiful white orchard means different things to different people. It represents Lubov's heritage
and her youth a disappearing paradise. For Gaev, it's a symbol of status, mentioned in the
encyclopedia. For Lopakhin the cherry orchard is complicated; his attachment to Lubov makes him

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want to save it, while his memory of a difficult childhood urges him to destroy it. It's also a financial
opportunity. Trofimov sees the orchard as a symbol of injustice, because of the way the aristocrats
treated the peasants before the emancipation of the Serfs, and Anya gives up her sentimental
attachment to it for a new life.

BREAKING STRING
The breaking string sounds just before the homeless man enters in Act 2, and just after Fiers lies down
at the end of the play. Different productions have handled it different ways. It could be the melancholy,
nostalgic sound of a breaking guitar string. It could symbolize the discontinuation of memory. Overtly
political productions have featured the sound of a snapping whip, a reminder of the family's
dependence on slavery.

ANALYSIS: SETTING

Where It All Goes Down

A provincial estate in Russia at the turn of the twentieth century

In February of 1861, Alexander II emancipated serfs in Russia. Serfs were very much like slaves, but
different in that they were attached to the land. If a piece of land was sold, serfs stayed with it and
served the new landowner. Before the emancipation (what Fiers calls "the disaster"), there were more
than 22 million serfs in Russia, 44% of the population. This new freedom affected not only the serfs,
now unemployed, but also the landowners, who couldn't thrive without the cheap labor. Rural areas
were still adjusting to the shock forty years later, when Chekhov wrote The Cherry Orchard.

Act 1: The Nursery. May.

Setting the first scene in the nursery, Chekhov immediately establishes Lubov's intense emotional
relationship with the past. Her first line is "The nursery!" Looking around, she feels like a little girl
again. It's going to be very hard for her to part with this place.

Act 2: Outside, near the cherry orchard. June or July.

This act feels like a pastoral scene from Shakespeare. Love is in the air, servants tease each other, a
guitar strums, and Trofimov muses on the future of man. The outdoor setting allows us to spy on
interactions that could never happen in the house: the tryst between Dunyasha and Yasha, the flirtation
of Trofimov and Anya, and, of course, the encounter with the homeless man. In this act, we get more
closely acquainted with the beauty of the orchard, the main subject of contention.

Act 3: The drawing room with an arch leading into the ballroom. August 22, the auction date.
How typical: Lubov throws a party while others decide the fate of the estate. The party in the ballroom
serves a number of purposes. With dancing, Charlotta's magic tricks, and a few moments of slapstick,
it's a theatrical contrast to the pensive mood of Act 1. It highlights the decline of the household (as
Fiers mentions, "At our balls some time back, generals and barons and admirals used to dance, and now
we send for post-office clerks and the Station-master, and even they come as a favour" [4.75]). It's also
a last hurrah for the household, as though Lubov knows her fate is sealed.

Act 4: The Nursery. October.

The empty nursery, stripped and filled with luggage, visually represents the change that has come over
the house and family since Act 1. Lubov had been so delighted, so comforted to return to the nursery,
and now she's leaving it forever.

94
ANALYSIS: GENRE

Tragicomedy
As Dolly Parton says in Steel Magnolias and we may be paraphrasing here "Laughter through tears
is my favorite emotion." Chekhov felt the same, and often included stage directions suggesting a line
be said while "fighting back tears," or "through tears." When Chekhov first visited rehearsals of
director Stanislavsky's premiere production of The Cherry Orchard, however, he was appalled. The
famous director had his actors weeping copiously especially in the final act transforming Chekhov's
"Comedy in Four Acts" into a tear-jerking tragedy. Chekhov complained:

Not once does my Anya cry, nowhere do I speak of a tearful tone, in the second act there are tears in their
eyes, but the tone is happy, lively. Why did you speak in your telegram about so many tears in my play?
Where are they? ... Often you will find the words "through tears," but I am describing only the expression
on their faces, not tears. (source: Stroud, Gregory. Retrospective Revolution. Urbana-Champaign, 2006.
63-4.)

Even if Chekhov's wife Olga Knipper, who played Lubov, disagreed, Chekhov insisted the play was a
comedy.

Chekhov was first a writer of comic articles and popular short farces, and The Cherry Orchard includes
a number of comic elements. Epikhodov of the squeaky boots is clearly a clown, if a sad one. Fiers's
deafness provides a good amount of comic relief. Often particularly in Act 3, when tension is highest
a character has a serious moment and is then undercut by a moment of slapstick. In an uncomfortably
harsh encounter, Lubov eviscerates Trofimov for being a virgin. He runs humiliated and falls down the
stairs. With this constant to-and-fro of comic and tragic elements, the play doesn't fit into a neat
category. Some people have taken to calling works like The Cherry Orchard "Chekhovian Comedy."

ANALYSIS: TONE

Compassionate Irony
Characterization is the center of Chekhov's work. The pivotal events of the play seem inevitable and
take place offstage. As the Chekhov translator Paul Schmidt says, Chekhov "cut[s] away the
melodramatic moments of the 'plot,' or shifts them offstage, leaving finally only his characters' helpless,
unheeding responses to those moments" (source: Schmidt, Paul. "Introduction." The Plays of Anton
Chekhov. New York: Harper Perennial, 1997. p. 4).

No character in The Cherry Orchard is safe from Chekhov's gentle satire. With his doctor's fine powers
of observation, he depicts each person's charms and weaknesses. There's not a character (except Yasha,
the opportunistic parasite) with whom Chekhov doesn't seem to sympathize, so much so that when it
comes to determining the protagonist, we have a few options (see "Character Roles"). Lubov is
vivacious, beautiful, and generous but she's also a self-centered and foolish, making poor decisions
hurt others. We understand Lopakhin's difficult childhood as a motive for his accumulation of wealth,
but boy does he make some insensitive moves. Trofimov's idealism is appealing, but his youthful
arrogance isn't. He gets his comeuppance in Act 3, humiliated by the anxious Lubov. By combining
virtues and flaws in each character, Chekhov achieves an affectionate distance that we in the audience
share.

ANALYSIS: WRITING STYLE

Realism
"What happens onstage should be just as complicated and just as simple as things are in real life.
People are sitting at a table having dinner, that's all, but at the same time their happiness is being
created, or their lives are being torn apart," wrote Chekhov of the realistic style exemplified by The

95
Cherry Orchard (source). Characters wander in and out, lines of communication cross, seemingly
irrelevant topics are brought up only to be dropped and taken up again later. In this deceptively
scattered progression of dialogues, a complete picture of a family and society emerges.

At the end of the chaotic first act, a scene of arrival, Varya reports to her sister Anya on the
maintenance of the estate:

VARYA. There's been an unpleasantness here while you were away. In the old servants' part of the house,
as you know, only the old people live--little old Efim and Polya and Evstigney, and Karp as well. They
started letting some tramps or other spend the night there--I said nothing. Then I heard that they were
saying that I had ordered them to be fed on peas and nothing else; from meanness, you see. ... And it was
all Evstigney's doing. ... Very well, I thought, if that's what the matter is, just you wait. So I call
Evstigney. ... [Yawns] He comes. "What's this," I say, "Evstigney, you old fool."... [Looks at ANYA] Anya
dear! [Pause] My darling's gone to sleep!"(1.220)

The monologue seems like an idle, rambling complaint, but reveals a number of things about Varya,
Anya, and the situation at home. We can see that, financially, things are very bad for them. The family
can't afford to feed the former serfs who live on their land. And Varya responds, in her oversensitive
way, by taking offense at their accusations that she's "mean" or cheap. Anya falls asleep, either
unconcerned about the starving peasants or tired by Varya's pettiness.

Then the "peas" story comes up again in Act 2, when Lubov laments her flagrancy with money:

LUBOV. My poor Varya feeds everybody on milk soup to save money, in the kitchen the old people only
get peas, and I spend recklessly. [Drops the purse, scattering gold coins] There, they are all over the
place. (2.29)

"So it's true," we think. Varya is feeding them on peas. Lubov, charming as she may be, hurts more
than herself with her fiscal irresponsibility, represented here by the simple, naturalistic detail of
"scattering gold coins." She's also responsible for the discomfort of many others.

ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE TITLE?

The Cherry Orchard really is about a cherry orchard. It's the central plot device in the play. The
question "Will the orchard be saved?" gives us a bit of suspense in Chekhov's otherwise leisurely
plotting. The cherry orchard is also the central symbol in the play; how each character responds to the
orchard and weighs in on its future defines how they view the past. For more on that, go to
"Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory."

ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE ENDING?

The Cherry Orchard ends with the 87-year-old servant Fiers shuffling out to find that the family has
departed without him. He tries the door; it's locked. He lies down on the couch, mumbles, "Life's gone
on as if I'd never lived," and grows still (4.134). Then the "breaking string" sound is heard, along with
the thudding of an axe.

What to make of it? In leaving the orchard, the family finally cuts ties with the past. It will disappear
from their memories, just as they've forgotten Fiers in their preparations to leave. We can't help but
think, as well, that there's a last comment here on the damaging selfishness of aristocrats like Lubov
and Gaev. They've already failed to take action to save the estate, and in their nostalgic, wallowing
good-bye to the house, they fail to secure a safe place for their most loyal servant.

ANALYSIS: PLOT ANALYSIS

Initial Situation

96
Lubov and Gaev return to their childhood home on the cherry orchard.

The beginning of the play establishes the deep emotional attachment Lubov and others have to the
cherry orchard. At this point, it is unthinkable that the estate could be lost.

Conflict

Lopakhin announces that the cherry orchard will be sold.

Lopakhin, the pragmatist, shares his plan for the orchard: clear it and cut it up into lots. Lubov and
Gaev would never consider such a thing.

Complication

Lubov and Gaev stall on making any decisions. The transient enters to remind them of the weight
of the past.

In the very orchard that's the source of conflict, Lubov and Gaev simply enjoy its beauty. Lopakhin
reminds them once more that the auction date is approaching and they must make a decision. Trofimov,
while not a fan of Lopakhin's schemes, favors getting rid of the orchard. For him it's a symbol of
injustice.

Climax

At the party, Lopakhin announces that he's bought the orchard.

While trying to entertain, Lubov waits in agony for the men to return from the auction. Drumroll:
Lopakhin bought it! He gives a big, dramatic speech in which the purchase of the orchard emerges
almost as an act of revenge for his ancestor's servitude.

Suspense

What will they do next?

There's just a brief moment at the end of Act 3 after Lopakhin has gloated and gone when Lubov
sits crying. Anya approaches her gently, reminding her that she still has her life to live. Will Lubov go
somewhere new? Will she return to Paris?

Denouement

The family is moving out.

Luggage is piled up as the family waits for the train all of them dispersing to various locations.
Lopakhin excitedly starts the clearing of the orchard.

Conclusion

The family is gone. The house is locked. Fiers is left behind.

It's the end of an era, and the era's last representative, Fiers, is left alone and dying.

ANALYSIS: ALLUSIONS

Literary and Philosophical References

97
 Aleksey Konstantinovich Tolstoy (1817-1875), "The Magdalen" (3.72). This poem is about a
woman living in sin.

Historical References

The Emancipation of the Serfs (2.79). In 1861 Alexander II freed the serfs on private Russian
estates.

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THE LADY WITH THE DOG INTRODUCTION

In A Nutshell
Anton Chekhov was a late 19th century Russian writer famous for his short stories and plays. "The
Lady with the Dog," a tale of two lovers who carry on an affair while both married to other people, is
one of his most famous short stories.

Chekhov wrote the "The Lady with the Dog" in 1899, five years before his death, while he was an
invalid suffering from tuberculosis. He was laid up in the seaside town of Yalta, on the coast of the
Black Sea, a setting that serves as the backdrop for the lovers' initial meeting in the story. Setting isn't
the only tidbit to find its way from Chekhov's life to the page; many scholars argue that the relationship
at the center of this story is a reflection of the author's own romance with the actress he would
eventually marry in 1901.

"The Lady with the Dog" is in many ways a typical Chekhov tale. It reflects the style and literary
preferences of the author who, having written over 200 stories in his career, had certainly established a
status quo. In accordance with his typical manner, the story breaks many of the rules of storytelling,
particularly when it comes to plot and conclusion.

WHY SHOULD I CARE?

105
Reading Chekhovs short stories is like sitting in a caf to eavesdrop and people watch while sipping a
latt. Instead of going with the mid-nineteenth century thing where writers felt like they needed to
make sure their readers were kept on the straight and narrow by forcing morality lessons down their
throats, Chekhov leaps for modernity by washing his hands of the idea that his stories should have a
point.

Like all the other creative dudes at the end of the nineteenth centuryimpressionist painters, say, or
psychologistsChekhov is trying to toss out the traditional approach to literature as a way of teaching
a lesson. There is no point to The Lady with the Dog because the story is set up as just a slice of life.

And isnt that so refreshing to read? Like stepping into a clean, modern room after being visually
overwhelmed by the overblown, eye-poppingly busy decorating style of Donald Trump. Its a relief not
to be told what to think by the author. You can like the characters or not like them or even not care
about them at all, just like you do with real people.
And really, everyone, from TMZ to the British tabloids to reality TV producers, knows that nothing is
more interesting than the real lives of real people, and that's exactly what stories like The Lady with
the Dog serve up to readers.

Its like the best possible form of gossip: we get a disinterested, almost clinical (Chekhov was a doctor,
after all) description of what regular people are doing in the situations life throws at them, and then we
get to discuss and moralize and judge the characters for ourselves because the authors not shoving his
opinion on the situation down our throats.

Here are two people having an affair because they are miserable in their failed marriages, the story
says, So, what do you think? Are they bad? Are they good? Should they grab onto love and ruin the
lives of everyone around them? And then, you get to be judge, jury, and executioner, as you see fit.

How It All Goes Down

Dmitri Dmitritch Gurov has been hanging out for about two weeks in Yalta, on the coast of the Black
Sea, when he hears of the arrival of a new vacationer, known only as "the lady with the dog." Gurov is
40, married, and has kids. He dislikes his wife and women in general, and has no qualms about having
affairs. He is troubled only when his lover forms some sort of emotional attachment to him. The lady
with the dog soon becomes his next conquest.

Her name is Anna Sergeyevna, and she, too, is married, though her husband is absent. She and Gurov
quickly become friends and then lovers. Afterwards, Anna considers herself a fallen woman, and with
shame assumes that Gurov will never respect her again. Gurov finds himself bored by her concerns.
The affair continues, but ends abruptly when Anna is summoned back home by her husband.

Gurov returns to his home and family in Moscow and embraces his old life, hoping and assuming that
he will forget all about Anna. But this is not the case. Consumed with thoughts of her, confused by his
feelings, and suspecting love, he travels to Anna's house and seeks her out one night at an opera while
her husband is outside smoking. Anna is horrified by his arrival and terrified that someone will see, but
she admits that she hasn't been able to stop thinking about him since she left Yalta. She begs Gurov to
leave before someone grows the wiser, and leaves him with the promise that she'll come to see him in
Moscow.

Gurov returns home, and Anna follows through on her promise. She begins visiting Moscow
semi-regularly, where she stays in a hotel and carries on her affair, if intermittently, with Gurov.
Visiting her in the hotel one day, Gurov realizes that he is in love with her, and that this is the first time
he's ever been in love. He has two lives, he concludes, one secret and valuable, the other public and
worthless.

Anna is in tears as they both lament their plight: in love with each other but married to other people.
They discuss and debate, trying to find a way to be together despite the circumstance. They know there
is a long road ahead, and that the most difficult part is just beginning.

106
SECTION 1 SUMMARY

The story begins in Yalta, Crimea, a seaside vacation town on the Black Sea coast. Dmitri
Dmitritch Gurov has been there two weeks and is taking an interest in new arrivals, in
particular a lady with a little dog, a white Pomeranian. Sitting in a pavilion, he spots her
walking along the beach with her pet wearing a beret.
Over the next few days, Gurov bumps into this woman several times each day. (Yalta is a
small place.) He decides they should be friends.
Now for some background on Dmitri Gurov. He's under forty, married, and has three children.
His wife, whom he married when he was young, seems to be half his age. She is a
self-proclaimed intellectual whom Gurov secretly considers to be unintelligent and inelegant.
He's been unfaithful to her a lot. He thinks women are a "lower race."
He also can't do without women for the life of him, and so is a bit of a womanizer. There's
something about him that women find attractive, so he has no problem going from one affair
to the next. He does find it problematic, however, when the women grow emotionally attached
to him.
Anyway one night in Yalta, while Gurov is dining in the gardens, the lady with the dog,
wearing her beret, takes the table beside him. He can tell just from looking at her that she is
married, a lady, in Yalta for the first time, alone, and bored. He remembers that Yalta is
famous as the land of easy seductions, and decides to pursue an affair with this woman.
Gurov makes his move through the dog; he tries to pet it, and the woman, blushing, tells him
that the dog doesn't bite.
The woman reveals she has been in Yalta five days and is bored. They banter for a bit. They
take a walk and admire the beautiful atmosphere. Gurov tells her about himself: he has a
degree in the Arts and even trained as an opera-singer, but now he works at a bank and lives in
Moscow.
The woman reveals some of her background; she was raised in Peterburg and now lives in
"S." with her husband. She'll be in Yalta for another month or so. And her name is Anna
Sergeyevna.
That night, alone, Gurov lies in bed and thinks about Anna, how not too long ago she must
have been like his twelve-year-old daughter. (Anna is definitely younger than Gurov.) He
imagines that this is the first time she's in a situation like this one, alone and at the hands of a
man like Gurov; she must know what he wants. He concludes that there's "something pathetic
about her" and falls asleep.

SECTION 2 SUMMARY

A week passes. It is a holiday, and "one [does] not know what to do with oneself." Anna and
Gurov hang out for most of the day; that evening they watch the new arrivals come in off the
steamer.
Gurov asks her if she wants to take a drive. When she doesn't answer, he looks at her, then
puts his arms around her and kisses her. Immediately after, he looks around to see if anyone
saw them. Then he suggests that they go to Anna's hotel.
They do. Gurov muses on all the different types of women he's had sex with, and the different
types of reactions they've had before, during, and after the sex.
He then considers the way Anna treats their affair, with "the diffidence, the angularity of
inexperienced youth, an awkward feeling." After they have sex she feels shameful,
considering herself to now be "a fallen woman."
He eats a watermelon slice and says nothing for half an hour. She suspects that he no longer
respects her and even accuses him of despising her now.
Gurov tries to assure her this is not the case.
Anna then discusses her husband, whom she calls "a flunkey." She married him when she was
twenty, but came to regret it soon after. It was a hunger for life that drove her to this affair,
and now as a result she is a "vulgar, contemptible woman."

107
 Gurov quickly grows bored listening to Anna talk. Finally, he gets her back into a laughing
mood, and the two of them go outside and take a cab to Oreanda.
Gurov sees Anna's name on the board and notes her last name, "Von Diderits," which is surely
not a conveniently placed plot device for use later in the narrative.
At Oreanda they sit outside looking out to the sea, silently. The narrative slows in this
reflective passage:
The leaves did not stir on the trees, grasshoppers chirruped, and the monotonous hollow sound
of the sea rising up from below, spoke of the peace, of the eternal sleep awaiting us. So it must
have sounded when there was no Yalta, no Oreanda here; so it sounds now, and it will sound as
indifferently and monotonously when we are all no more. And in this constancy, in this complete
indifference to the life and death of each of us, there lies hid, perhaps, a pledge of our eternal
salvation, of the unceasing movement of life upon earth, of unceasing progress towards
perfection. (2.28)
Gurov decides that everything is beautiful when one reflects like this; everything except that
which we do when we "forget our human dignity and the higher aims of our existence."
As dawn approaches, the lovers return to town.
From then on, the two of them meet every day at noon, eat their meals together, take walks,
etc. Anna is still complaining that Gurov won't respect her. Gurov is still kissing her in public
places when he thinks no one is nearby to see.
And during this affair, Gurov becomes a new man. He is passionate; he tells Anna that she is
beautiful and fascinating.
One day Anna gets a letter from her husband saying that there's something wrong with his
eyes and she needs to come home ASAP. "It's the finger of destiny!" says Anna, who readies
to depart.
The two of them share a touching parting scene by the train. Anna tells Gurov that they will
never meet gain.
Once she's gone, Gurov figures it's about time for him to go home, too.

SECTION 3 SUMMARY

At Gurov's home in Moscow, it's wintertime. At first, he is glad to be back; he immerses

himself in the city life and is sure that, in a month, he won't even remember what Anna looks
like.
However, a month later, Gurov feels as though he parted with Anna just the day before. She's
haunting him, everywhere, all the time.
Gurov desperately wants to talk to someone about these feelings, but he has no one, and
besides, he doesn't understand well enough to express them. He doesn't even know if he was
in love.
He quickly grows tired of the Moscow scene and all the people in it. "What senseless nights,
what uninteresting, uneventful days!" He can't sleep; he's sick of his family and his work.
In December he gets ready for a trip. He tells his wife he's going to Petersburg under some
pretense; in reality, he goes to S., to find Anna and talk to her.
In the morning he arrives and takes a hotel room. He quickly finds out where the Von Diderits
live and goes there. He finds a house surrounded by "a long grey fence adorned with nails."
Because it's a holiday, he worries that Anna's husband is at home. He debates the best way to
get in touch with her. He sees an old woman exit the house with Anna's dog.
Instead of approaching, he goes back to his hotel and takes a nap. He wakes up in the evening,
frustrated with the situation.
The next morning he sees a playbill for an opera, The Geisha, opening that night. Figuring that
Anna will be there, he goes to the show.
The theatre is a provincial one, and it is full. Amidst the crowd Gurov spots Anna in the third
row: "When Gurov looked at her his heart contracted, and he understood clearly that for him
there was in the whole world no creature so near, so precious, and so important to him" (3.26).

108
 Then he sees her husband, "a young man with small side-whiskers, tall and stooping" and
bending his head at every step. Gurov remembers that Anna called him a flunkey, and thinks
that this might not be so inaccurate.
During intermission, while the husband is away smoking, Gurov approaches Anna and says
hello. She turns pale when she sees him; her reaction frightens Gurov, who feels as though
everyone is looking at them.
Anna gets up and walks towards the door; he follows her out.
She stops on a secluded staircase and asks desperately why he has come to see her. She admits
that she's unhappy and has thought only of him since they parted, though she wanted to forget
him.
Gurov takes Anna in his arms and kisses her; she continues to ask why he's doing this and
finally pushes him away, begging him "by all that is sacred" to leave at once. Finally she
swears that, if he'll leave, she'll come and visit him in Moscow. Then she runs away, back
down the stairs.
Gurov waits alone for a bit, then retrieves his coat and leaves the theatre.

SECTION 4 SUMMARY

As she promised, Anna starts coming to visit Gurov in Moscow. She stays at a hotel and sends
a messenger to alert Gurov of her presence.
One morning, having received a message from Anna the night before, Gurov is walking his
daughter school, with plans to head to the hotel afterwards. He explains to his daughter how it
can be snowing if the temperature is actually above the freezing point.
While he converses with his daughter, Gurov realizes that he has "two lives: one, open, seen
and known by all who cared to know, full of relative truth and of relative falsehood, exactly
like the lives of his friends and acquaintances; and another life running its course in secret"
(4.5). And everything important to him, everything of value, belongs to his secret life.
After dropping his daughter off at school, Gurov goes to Anna's hotel. They kiss passionately.
She is crying "from emotion, from the miserable consciousness that their life was so hard for
them," from the fact that they can only meet in secret.
Gurov tries to get her to stop crying. At the same time, he realizes that this love of theirs is not
going to be over any time soon.
He goes to take Anna in his arms; as he does, he sees himself in the mirror. He looks old his
hair is beginning to grey. He realizes Anna will soon grow old, too. He wonders why she
loves him, and realizes that, while, yes, women are always attracted to him, they're more
attracted to an image of him they have in their heads than to the real Gurov.
Gurov realizes that this is the first time in his life he is really in love. It doesn't seem fair to
him that the two of them met when they were already married to other people, and he
recognizes that they've both been profoundly changed by this love between them.
He tries to comfort Anna and the two of them talk of how to maintain their affair, how to keep
the secrecy, how to see each other despite their difficult situation. (Chekhov summarizes this;
we don't see the actual conversation between these two.)
Then it seems as though, soon enough, they will find the solution, and when they do, a "new
and splendid life" will begin. "And it [is] clear to both of them that they still [have] a long,
long road before them, and that the most complicated and difficult part of it [is] only just
beginning."

THE LADY WITH THE DOG THEMES

LOVE
From reading "The Lady with the Dog," it would seem that love is involuntary. People are made
victims of it often in the worst times, places, and circumstances beyond their control. Love has the
power to fundamentally change people, transforming their character and mindset completely. It is often
painful, inconvenient, and difficult. And yet, there is something touching and beautiful about the love

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in this story that overshadows all the pain, the inconvenience, the difficulty. Love brings with it a hope
and a promise for something better.

Questions About Love

1. At what point does Gurov know that he's in love with Anna?
2. How does Anna change Gurov? Is he conscious of this change?
3. Similarly, how does Gurov change Anna?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Through love and communication, Gurov and Anna are able to break the barriers of isolation by the
story's conclusion.

DISSATISFACTION
In this story, dissatisfaction with, marriage, family, work, and life in general is a big motivating
factor for action. Two adulterous lovers find themselves in each other's arms largely as the result of
their own dissatisfied lives. Such unhappiness, however, is not so easily cured. Can sex satisfy a
restless heart? Can love? What are the consequences of such decisions? "The Lady with the Dog"
explores many such questions.

Questions About Dissatisfaction

1. It seems as though Anna is constantly dissatisfied. Does being with Gurov make her happy? If
not, why does she partake in the affair? Why does she continue it outside of Yalta?
2. On that note, what would it take to make Anna happy?
3. Both Anna and Gurov declare a "curiosity" for life. Is this curiosity satisfied by being with
each other?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Anna and Gurov are worse off for having met each other.

ISOLATION
"The Lady with the Dog" explores many different kinds of isolation. First there is the isolation from the
rest of the world that two secret lovers feel when together. Despite this closeness, the two lovers are
separated even from each other, due to an inability to understand the world from the others' perspective.
In its final pages, the story suggests that in fact every man is isolated from all other men, since that
which is most valuable is always kept secret from the rest of the world.

Questions About Isolation

1. When Anna leaves Yalta, Gurov believes that "he had seemed to her different from what he
really was," and concludes that "he had unintentionally deceived her." What does Anna think
of Gurov at this point, and how is this different from what he really is?
2. What did Anna do to make this man who despises women fall in love with her?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

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Anna and Gurov remain emotionally isolated from each other, even at the story's conclusion.

REPUTATION
"The Lady with the Dog" reminds us that the threat of scandal always looms. For two adulterous lovers,
reputation is forever at risk, as are their marriages and lifestyles. The story also focuses on the idea of
social status and class. For one very class-conscious protagonist, only the truest of love can cross
class-defined social barriers.

Questions About Reputation

1. After Gurov begins the affair with Anna, we get this passage: "Gurov thought how in reality
everything is beautiful in this world when one reflects: everything except what we think or do
ourselves when we forget our human dignity and the higher aims of our existence." Is he
feeling guilty here? What does Chekhov mean by "human dignity and the higher aims of our
existence?" What would it mean to "forget" them? Has Gurov?
2. How does Gurov view Anna, socially? (As below him? On his level?) How does this affect
the way he feels about her? Does it ever pose a barrier to their love?
3. Consider the passage in which we are first told of Gurov's wife. Whose perspective are we
getting here? In terms of social status, how is she portrayed?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

"The Lady with the Dog" argues that personal and public lives cannot be reconciled.

In "The Lady with the Dog," two lovers both married to other people lament their predicament and
what they consider a shared ill-fate. But should fate be blamed for these unfortunate circumstances?
How much personal responsibility lies with the two lovers to begin with? Chekhov's tale deals
realistically, not romantically, with the consequences and difficulty of such a "fate."

Questions About Fate and Free Will

1. How much can the environment of Yalta be blamed for the affair between Anna and Gurov?
2. When she leaves Yalta, Anna declares that it's the finger of fate, that they ought not to have
met at all. Where is she getting these ideas about what ought to have been, or what should be
in the future?
3. Are Anna and Gurov victims of circumstance, or responsible for creating their own
circumstances?

Chew on This
Try on an opinion or two, start a debate, or play the devils advocate.

Fate is used as a scapegoat by the characters in "Lady with the Dog" in order to avoid accepting
personal responsibility.

CHARACTERS

DMITRI DMITRITCH GUROV

Lessons Learned
In "What's Up With the Ending?", we talk about "The Lady with the Dog" raising more questions than
it answers. This is also the case for Dmitri Gurov. The poor guy is confused all the time about

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himself, about women, about love, and in particular about Anna. When he returns to Moscow after the
start of their affair, he wonders, "Had he been in love, then? Had there been anything beautiful, poetical,
or edifying or simply interesting in his relations with Anna Sergeyevna?" (3.4) Shortly after, he sets off
to the town of S. "what for? He did not very well know himself" (3.14).

Fortunately, Gurov learns from his time with Anna. The confusion and defensive chauvinism of
Section I are replaced with the mature understanding of Section IV, which allows our protagonist to
draw conclusions not only about Anna, but about all of the women he slept with before her. Look at the
following passages, taken from the beginning, middle, and end of "Lady with the Dog." They
effectively trace Gurov's increasing awareness of himself and of women:

In his appearance, in his character, in his whole nature, there was something attractive and elusive
which allured women and disposed them in his favour; he knew that, and some force seemed to draw him,
too, to them. (1.5)

All the time she had called him kind, exceptional, lofty; obviously he had seemed to her different from
what he really was, so he had unintentionally deceived her. . . . (2.40)

He always seemed to women different from what he was, and they loved in him not himself, but the man
created by their imagination, whom they had been eagerly seeking all their lives; and afterwards, when
they noticed their mistake, they loved him all the same. And not one of them had been happy with him.
Time passed, he had made their acquaintance, got on with them, parted, but he had never once loved; it
was anything you like, but not love. (4.15)

Gurov goes on to conclude that with Anna it is different, that this really is love for the first time. Which
means that "kind, exceptional, lofty" man she thought he was is the man he has become.

Mid-Life Crisis?
Age is an issue from the get-go; Gurov reflects that "his wife seemed half as old again as he." Is it a
coincidence that he next falls for a woman little more than half his age? (Anna is 22 in Yalta; Gurov is
almost 40. The age difference doesn't escape him, as he makes a point of noting the gap after she
departs on the train.) Perhaps he's trying to recapture his youth.

And in case you missed it the first two times around, Chekhov returns to the idea of age at the story's
conclusion, when Gurov catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror:

His hair was already beginning to turn grey. And it seemed strange to him that he had grown so much
older, so much plainer during the last few years. The shoulders on which his hands rested were warm
and quivering. He felt compassion for this life, still so warm and lovely, but probably already not far
from beginning to fade and wither like his own. (4.15)

If, at the story's start, Anna was to Gurov merely a fresh, young face, she isn't any longer. He
recognizes that she's aging (or will be shortly), and goes on to conclude that he loves her deeply,
anyway. Yet another layer in our transformation cake.

Mr. Judgmental
With his classification of women as "the lower race" to his over-developed class-consciousness, Gurov
can occasionally come off as pretty judgmental. Consider the way he views his wife: "She read a great
deal, used phonetic spelling, called her husband, not Gurov, but Dimitri, and he secretly considered her
unintelligent, narrow, inelegant" (1.5). Later, at the theatre, he notes that "as in all provincial theatres,
there was a fog above the chandelier, the gallery was noisy and restless; in the front row the local
dandies were standing up before the beginning of the performance, with their hands behind them"
(3.25).

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Sowhat's the point? As with many Gurov characteristics, this, too, is changed by Anna. For despite
her "provincial" environment, Gurov loves her nonetheless:

When Gurov looked at her his heart contracted, and he understood clearly that for him there was in the
whole world no creature so near, so precious, and so important to him; she, this little woman, in no way
remarkable, lost in a provincial crowd, with a vulgar lorgnette in her hand, filled his whole life now, was
his sorrow and his joy, the one happiness that he now desired for himself, and to the sounds of the
inferior orchestra, of the wretched provincial violins, he thought how lovely she was. (3.26)

Gurov has been in Yalta for two weeks when he hears about a new arrival, the lady with the
dog. He spots her one day wearing a white beret and walking her Pomeranian.
The narrative reveals some background info on Gurov: he's under forty, has three kids,
dislikes his wife, dislikes women in general, carries on a number of affairs with neither regret
nor much emotion. Women like him, and he likes women.
He bumps into the lady with the dog several times. One day, when she sits at the table next to
him for lunch, he strikes up a conversation with her. He learns a bit about her background and
reveals some of his own: he studied the arts, yet has a job at a bank now in Moscow.
That night, alone in bed, Gurov thinks about Anna, decides there's something pathetic about
her, and falls asleep.
A week later, while they're out together, Gurov kisses Anna. He invites himself back to her
hotel room and she complies.
Gurov ruminates on the different reactions different women have to sex, and compares Anna
to the others. After they sleep together, when she laments her new status as a fallen woman,
Gurov quickly grows bored. He takes her to Oreanda, where they hang out until dawn.
The affair continues until Anna is called back home to S. by her husband. Gurov returns to
Moscow shortly after her departure.
At home, he throws himself into city life and expects to forget Anna quickly. He doesn't. He
longs to tell someone about his time with her, but he doesn't know anyone and doesn't
understand it well enough to do so anyway.
Finally he gives up and travels to S. He finds Anna's house and sees an old woman walking
the dog. Afraid to approach, he returns to his hotel room to take a nap.
The next night he goes to see the opening performance of The Geisha, hoping that Anna will
be there. She is. While her husband is out smoking, he approaches and greets her.
When Anna begs him to leave, Gurov does, believing her promise to come visit him in
Moscow.
Anna does start visiting, and Gurov meets her in a hotel room whenever she is in town.
One morning, as he makes his way to the hotel and walks his daughter to school, Gurov muses
that he has two lives, one secret and valuable, the other public and worthless to him.
When he arrives at the hotel room, he tries to comfort a distraught Anna. He realizes he is
completely in love with her. The two of them try to devise a plan for the future. They know
that the affair is not going to end any time soon, and that there is along and difficult road
beginning ahead of them.

ANNA SERGEYEVNA VON DIDERITS

We spend less time with Anna than we do with Gurov, so it's a bit harder to discuss her character than
his. What we do know about her is that she's 22 years old, was married at twenty, considers her
husband "a flunkey," feels stifled by her life, and has a very guilty conscience about having an affair.
Just look at her reaction after the first time she has sex with Gurov:

Forgiven? No. I am a bad, low woman; I despise myself and don't attempt to justify myself. It's not my
husband but myself I have deceived. And not only just now; I have been deceiving myself for a long time.
[] and now I have become a vulgar, contemptible woman whom any one may despise. (2.17)

What's particularly sad about this scene is the fact that Anna is suffering from the same dilemma that

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Gurov is: dissatisfaction with her own, stifled life. Remember that Gurov studied the arts and even
trained as an opera singerand now he works at a bank. He despises his wife. Similarly, Anna is
trapped by her marriage and her role in life. We learned earlier in the story that Gurov was "eager for
life" (1.6). So, too, is Anna. "I have been tormented by curiosity," she says; "I wanted something better.
'There must be a different sort of life,' I said to myself. I wanted to live! To live, to live! . . . I was fired
by curiosity . . . you don't understand it" (2.17).

And his response? "Gurov felt bored already, listening to her. He was irritated by the nave tone." (2.18)

These two have so much in common. And yet, neither of them recognizes these commonalities. They're
completely isolated from each other because of their inability to effectively communicate.

This sense of solitude of not being understood probably goes a long way in explaining Anna's
incurable melancholy. In case you didn't pick up on her sorrow implicitly, we have:

The solitary candle burning on the table threw a faint light on her face, yet it was clear that she was very
unhappy. (1.13)

This young woman whom he would never meet again had not been happy with him. (2.40)

"I am so unhappy." (3.37)

"I have never been happy; I am miserable now, and I never, never shall be happy, never!" (3.41)

And, of course:

From her eyes he could see that she really was unhappy. (3.42)

Anna's melancholy reminds us that this is no storybook tale; it is, however, a realistic one. (Very much
like the ending) If you buy into the whole "fate" thing, or even the "love hurts" thing, you'll likely
take away from this story a few lessons, the first being: we don't get to choose whom we love. Anna
may be unhappy with Gurov, but she can't simply stop loving him and be done with it. She tried, after
Yalta, and to no avail. When you look at it this way, it's amazing that the story's conclusion is as
optimistic as it seems that is, if you consider the ending and its promise of a "new and splendid life"
to be optimistic

Anna arrives in Yalta and is known only as "the lady with the dog." She bumps into Gurov a
few times before really meeting him one day when she takes a table next to his at lunch. We
know immediately that she is a lady, married, bored, and modest.
While chatting with Gurov, Anna reveals some of her background. She was raised in
Petersburg and now lives in "S." with her husband.
Anna and Gurov start spending more time together. One day he kisses her, and he takes her
back to his hotel room.
After they have sex, Anna is distraught. She imagines that she is a fallen woman that Gurov
will despise and never respect her. She tries to explain to him why she gave in to the affair:
she married young and her husband is a "flunkey." She's curious and eager for a life she's not
getting at home.
She and Gurov go to Oreanda. They admire the views until dawn, when they return to town.
Anna receives a note from her husband saying there's something wrong with his eyes and
asking her to return home. She does. At the train station, when she parts with Gurov, she tells
him they will never meet again.
Anna is at the theatre with her husband when Gurov shows up. She is horrified and quickly
takes him out of the public eye. She wants to know why he's come to see her. She admits that

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 she hasn't been able to stop thinking about him. She begs him to leave and promises she'll
come see him in Moscow.
She does begin visiting Moscow. Whenever she is in town, she stays in a hotel and sends a
messenger to Gurov.
One day, when Gurov comes to see her at the hotel, she is crying. He tries to comfort her. The
two of them lament their ill-fated predicament, and try to come up with a way to be together
despite their separate lives. They conclude that there is a long, difficult road up ahead, just
beginning.

ANALYSIS

SYMBOLISM, IMAGERY, ALLEGORY

THE GEISHA
In Section III, Gurov sees a playbill for the Sydney Jones opera The Geisha and attends the opening
performance, hoping that Anna will be there. She is, and the opera serves as a backdrop to the
emotion-filled reunion. This particular opera is not without significance. It tells the story of a man who,
despite his engagement to another woman, falls in love with a geisha. It even features the famous line,
"Every man is disappointed in his wife at some time or other." If this coincidence is lost on Gurov, it
certainly should not be on Chekhov's readers.

THE FENCE
OK, time to play "Guess that metaphor!"

Gurov went without haste to Old Gontcharny Street and found the house. Just opposite the house
stretched a long grey fence adorned with nails. [] "One would run away from a fence like that,"
thought Gurov, looking from the fence to the windows of the house and back again. [] He walked up
and down, and loathed the grey fence more and more, and by now he thought irritably that Anna
Sergeyevna had forgotten him, and was perhaps already amusing herself with some one else, and that
that was very natural in a young woman who had nothing to look at from morning till night but that
confounded fence. (3.16-9)

Anna is symbolically confined by the fence outside her husband's house, just as she is actually confined
by her marriage. In fact, both she and Gurov feel trapped in their lives and are longing for an escape
through each other. Even more significant in this passage here is the fact that Gurov is, perhaps for the
first time, really seeing the world through Anna's eyes. He's understanding her perspective, which goes
some way in breaking the boundaries that separate them from each other.

ANALYSIS: SETTING

Where It All Goes Down

Yalta in the Southern Ukraine; Moscow and S., Russia. Late Nineteenth Century
The dual setting of "Lady with the Dog" is very important to the story. When Gurov and Anna leave
Yalta, it signals a shift in atmosphere and mood. To start, think about Yalta and the way it is treated in
this story. First of all, it's a vacation spot. Gurov well knows of "the stories of immorality" in this
seaside vacation town, "tales of easy conquests, of trips to the mountains," and, despite knowing better,
is intrigued by the thought of "the tempting thought of a swift, fleeting love affair, a romance with an
unknown woman, whose name he did not know" (1.7).

On top of that, there's not really much to do in Yalta. When the story begins, Gurov has already "been a
fortnight in Yalta" and so has "begun taking an interest in new arrivals" (1.2). When he first sees Anna,
he knows she is already "dull" (a.k.a. bored) (1.7). As Chekhov writes, "one did not know what to do

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with oneself" (2.1).

Then there's the romance of the place "the chirrup of the grasshoppers," "the heat," "the smell of the
sea," etc. When Anna and Gurov stroll about, "the scenery invariably impresse[s] them as grand and
beautiful" (2.33). "They walked and talked of the strange light on the sea: the water was of a soft warm
lilac hue, and there was a golden streak from the moon upon it. They talked of how sultry it was after a
hot day" (1.17). Everywhere are the colors, scents, and sounds of love. These details are packed into
the romantic scenes between the two lovers. Just before Gurov kisses Anna, she "sniff[s] she flowers,"
and when he kisses her, he breathe[s] in the fragrance and moisture of the flowers" (2.4, 2.7). Even
Anna's room is suffused with the sultry scent "she had bought at the Japanese shop" (2.9). It's no
wonder the two lovers fall into bed.

It's fitting, then, that as soon as Anna departs, Gurov doesn't feel at home in Yalta anymore. "Here at
the station was already a scent of autumn," he notes; "it was a cold evening" (2.41). Gurov quickly
decides, "It's time for me to go north. [] High time!" (2.42).

And then we move into the second half of the story a very different setting indeed:

At home in Moscow everything was in its winter routine; the stoves were heated, and in the morning it
was still dark when the children were having breakfast and getting ready for school, and the nurse would
light the lamp for a short time. The frosts had begun already. (3.1)

In Moscow, Gurov is lonely and cold and isolated. He longs for Anna and finds himself dissatisfied
with the life he's living. Again, the setting compliments the atmosphere of the narrative and the mood
of its characters.

ANALYSIS: NARRATOR POINT OF VIEW

Third Person (Omniscient)

While the story does focus largely on Gurov, his perspective, his thoughts, and his story, the narrative
voice of "Lady with the Dog" is allowed total omniscience. Check out the story's final scene. First,
we're given access to Anna's thoughts: "She was crying from emotion, from the miserable
consciousness that their life was so hard for them; they could only meet in secret, hiding themselves
from people, like thieves! Was not their life shattered?" (4.11). Then, we jump back to Gurov's
perspective: "It was evident to him that this love of theirs would not soon be over, that he could not see
the end of it" (4.13).

There are also moments in the narrative when we seem to get commentary from this formless third
person narrator, outside of both characters. Consider this somewhat perplexing passage:

The leaves did not stir on the trees, grasshoppers chirruped, and the monotonous hollow sound of the sea
rising up from below, spoke of the peace, of the eternal sleep awaiting us. So it must have sounded when
there was no Yalta, no Oreanda here; so it sounds now, and it will sound as indifferently and
monotonously when we are all no more. And in this constancy, in this complete indifference to the life
and death of each of us, there lies hid, perhaps, a pledge of our eternal salvation, of the unceasing
movement of life upon earth, of unceasing progress towards perfection. (2.28)

Is this the commentary of the narrator, or are we slipping into Gurov's mind here? It's not exactly clear.
Check out the context the lines before and after this passage and see what you think.

GENRE

Realism, Romance

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"The Lady with the Dog" is the realistic story of two people having an affair. Rather than rely on
symbols or allegory, this narrative is presented in a straightforward, careful manner that reflects life as
it actually is. Even the story's structure and conclusion (see "Classic Plot Analysis" and "What's Up
With the Ending?") incorporate this sense of realism. As the narrative's main topic is a love affair, it's
no mystery that we're working with a romance here. You've even got one or two mushy quotes about
love thrown in there.

TONE

Objective
Remarkably, this story of two adulterous lovers contains neither a moral nor a moral judgment. The
narrator is simply objective. He tells it like it is: this is what Anna thinks, this is what Gurov thinks, and
this is what they do. Even in the story's introduction, when Gurov is introduced in all his chauvinistic
glory, the attitude is devoid of condemnation:

He had begun being unfaithful to her long ago had been unfaithful to her often, and, probably on that
account, almost always spoke ill of women, and when they were talked about in his presence, used to call
them "the lower race." (1.4)

Sure, we might feel like condemning him, but the point is that the narrator doesn't.

ANALYSIS: WRITING STYLE

Economical, Measured
The prose in "The Lady with the Dog" is powerful stuff. Chekhov says what he wants to say exactly
how he wants to say it, and he generally gets it done without wasting words or time. Think how much
we know about Gurov from a short paragraph like this one:

Experience often repeated, truly bitter experience, had taught him long ago that with decent people,
especially Moscow people always slow to move and irresolute every intimacy, which at first so
agreeably diversifies life and appears a light and charming adventure, inevitably grows into a regular
problem of extreme intricacy, and in the long run the situation becomes unbearable. But at every fresh
meeting with an interesting woman this experience seemed to slip out of his memory, and he was eager
for life, and everything seemed simple and amusing. (1.6)

We learn about his past, we're in tune with his psychological motivations for pursuing an affair in the
first place, and we foresee a problem arising with Anna. We don't know about you, but that probably
would have taken us 2-3 pages to explain.

Because so much of "The Lady with the Dog" is straightforward, you want to keep an eye out for those
slightly more lyrical passages. There are only a few, so they tend to jump off the page. Consider
passages 2.28 and 4.5. What do these add to the story? Are they warranted, given the context?

ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE TITLE?

When this short story begins, it focuses on Gurov, who has just become aware of this mysterious
woman and her pet dog. As Chekhov writes, "No one knew who she was, and every one called her
simply 'the lady with the dog'" (1.2). Later, after Gurov and Anna sleep together, he looks at her and
recalls the label of "the lady with the dog" (2.1). At this point, we see a rift between the snapshot of
Anna from that first paragraph and the woman Gurov now realizes her to be.

And indeed, these shifting perceptions are a main theme in "The Lady With the Dog." A large part of
Gurov's transformation (see his "Character Analysis" for more) has to do with his changing the way he
sees Anna, from yet another sexual conquest to the only real love of his life. So when we return to the

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title, for the third time, in the third section of the short story ("So much for the lady with the dog so
much for the adventure"), we can assess the differences between the Gurov of that first paragraph
and the Gurov who now looks back at that initial encounter (3.22).
ANALYSIS: WHAT'S UP WITH THE ENDING?
First, check out what we have to say in "Classic Plot Analysis." You'll see that Chekhov wasn't one to
play by the rules, at least when it came to the traditional structure of a short story. Rather than build a
narrative with a typical beginning, conflict, climax, and conclusion, he creates a world that extends
beyond the limits of the page. Gurov starts before "Lady with the Dog" begins, and he and Anna
continue long after it ends. Chekhov's ending couldn't be farther from a conclusion. Just look at the
final paragraph:

And it seemed as though in a little while the solution would be found, and then a new and splendid life
would begin; and it was clear to both of them that they had still a long, long road before them, and that
the most complicated and difficult part of it was only just beginning. (4.22)

So sure, Chekhov's story may be unusual, given the classic expectations for a short story, but it does
other very interesting things. First, it adds a lot to the realism of this piece. In case you hadn't noticed,
in real life, things just happen. They tend to not occur in episodic little pieces that can be broken down
into seven stages. "Lady with the Dog" also does something Chekhov thought literature should: ask
more questions than it answers. This is certainly true of the ending, when the reader is left to speculate
on the future of these two lovers.

PLOT ANALYSIS
"The Lady with the Dog" is famous for breaking the rules of what a short story should be. As author
Vladimir Nabokov said of this work in his Lectures on Russian Literature, "There is no problem, no
regular climax, no point at the end. And it is one of the greatest stories ever written."

Consider the story's conclusion: "It was clear to both of them that they had still a long, long road before
them, and that the most complicated and difficult part of it was only just beginning." The last word is
"beginning." Chekhov isn't wrapping this up with a bow; he's essentially leaving it unfinished. Part of
this has to do with Chekhov's own ideas about what a story should do, namely ask questions instead of
answering them. We talk about this a lot more in "What's Up With the Ending?", so be sure to check
that out.

ANALYSIS: ALLUSIONS

Arts and Literature

Sydney Jones, The Geisha (3.23)

"Anna on the Neck" (Russian: , translit. Anna na sheye) is a 1895 short story
by Anton Chekhov
Publication[edit]
Chekhov sent the story to Vasily Sobolevsky, the Russkiye Vedomosti's editor, on 15 October
1895.[1] It was published in the No. 292, 22 October 1895 issue of the newspaper.
In a re-worked version (now divided into two chapters and with numerous details added, with the view
of making the heroine's character more distinct) it was included into Volume 9 of the Collected Works
by A.P. Chekhov published by Adolf Marks in 18991901.[2] In its final version, the story's last
section was told entirely from the point of view of its heroine, who became more sanguine,
self-satisfied and distanced from her family. Numerous satyrical details were added to the Modest
Alexeyevich's character.[1]

Summary[edit]

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In his Notebook I (page 47) Chekhov summarised the plot for "Anna on the Neck", then yet to be
written: "A poor girl, gymnasium student, with five brothers, marries a rich state official who counts
every single piece of bread, demands from her subserviance and gratitude, is scornful of her relatives...
She endures all this, trying not to argue with him, so as not to fall back into destitude again. Then the
invitation to the ball comes. Here she causes furore. An important person gets infatuated with her,
makes her his lover... Now, seeing how her husband's chiefs fawn before her, at home she's full of
disdain: 'Go away you fool!' " The actual story's plot is similar, except that Anna here is much older
(she remembers her gymnasium years as belonging to her 'childhood past'), and has two brothers.
The story's title is a double-entendre, having to do with the Order of Saint Anna and the methods of its
wear. Anna's husband Modest Alexeyich has just received the 2nd class OSA, a cross which was
supposed to be worn on the neck.[3]

Reception[edit]
In his October 1895 review, the writer and critic Yuri Govorukha-Otrok juxtaposed Chekhov's story
with some similar plots by Alexander Ostrovsky, concluding that where the latter seeks for drama and
tragedy, the former is quite content with the comical approach, which he'd developed in his early
works.[4]
In 1904 the critic Yuri Dyagilev (writing under the pseudonym Yu. Chereda), analyzed "Anna on the
Neck" and "The House with the Mezzanine" along the lines of his own conception according to which
Chekhov and Dostoyevsky were the masters of paeans to the 'philistine's happiness'.[5]

Chekhov Stories
Themes, Motifs, and Symbols

Themes

DEATH AND DISEASE

Disease features prominently in Chekhov's stories, and his protagonists often suffer tragic and untimely
deaths. It is unsurprising that the author seems haunted by the notion of infirmity, since he was plagued
by tuberculosis for most of his adult life and died of the disease at the age of forty-four. Oftenas
in The Black Monk and The Grasshopperdisease acts as a physical representation of a character's
psychological turmoil. Osip sickens in The Grasshopper because he is depressed about his wife's
infidelity, while Chekhov subtly blends the symptoms of Kovrin's mental illness with those of
tuberculosis in The Black Monk. But the author's recurring use of this theme is neither pathological nor
self-pitying; Chekhov recognizes man's subservience to forces greater than his or her own will. The
author uses the symbolic power of his dying protagonistssuch as Kovrin in The Black Monk or Rabin
in Ward No. sixto emphasize life's transience as well as humankind's subservience to the whims of
fate. Chekhov also examines disease as a reflection of social degeneration. For example, Kovrin's
psychosis which ruins his marriage, kills his father- in-law and wrecks Yegor's prized
orchardseems to symbolize the disintegration of society at large. Chekhov thus focuses on disease to
indicate individual frailty as well as the growing conflicts within society.
DISILLUSIONMENT AND FAILED IDEALS
Chekhov's stories examine many kinds of disappointment and failed ideals. Often the protagonists are
disillusioned by events that force them to reevaluate their personal philosophies and understanding of
the world, and this disillusionment usually occurs toward the end of stories. Such climaxes range from
the mildly patheticas when the narrator in The Night Before Easter sees Jerome in daylight and
realizes that he is just an ordinary man, to the monumentally tragicsuch as Rabin's incarceration
in Ward No. six and his subsequent nervous breakdown. The protagonists of The Darling and My
Life also tackle frustrated dreams, loneliness, and the breakdown of romantic ties, but they never
fundamentally alter their view of the world. Consequently, we see that Chekhov's tales conclude with
either a moment of revelation or anti-climax (these endings have been termed "zero" and "surprise"
endings, respectively.) His protagonists are either crushed by their sense of disillusionment with the
world, or they hold out hope in a better future.
THE BREAKDOWN OF ARISTOCRATIC SOCIETY

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In 1861, when Chekhov was one year old, Tsar Alexander II liberated Russian serfs. This act seemed to
herald the dawn of a new age and the collapse of aristocratic privilege, although, in reality, peasants
were still impoverished, disempowered, and tied to the land. Many intellectuals began to discuss ideas
on liberty and the rights of all social classes to land and education. Although Chekhov did not openly
speculate on the fall of the old social order, his writing shows that he was caught up in the debate.
Many of his stories examine the effect of change on a prevailing social or familial hierarchy. For
example, My Life focuses on a young member of the gentry who defies his father and social convention
by working as a laborer. But Chekhov is very subtle in his treatment of change. Most often, the
revolutions one witnesses in the stories are neither positive nor negative; they are simply alterations to
established systems. In the Ravine deals with a mercenary, Grigori Tsybukin, who is ousted from his
position of power when his cunning daughter-in-law takes over the family business. Similarly, Rabin's
confinement in Ward No. sixshows how professionals as well as peasants can be subjected to social
coercion. The only obvious change for the worse occurs in The Black Monk, when Yegor's orchard
passes into the hands of a younger generation and is ruined. In most of his stories, therefore, Chekhov
deals with the breakdown of an old social order with characteristic moral ambivalence.
Motifs
COMMUNICATION AND NON-COMMUNICATION
Communication and its interruptions bear much importance throughout Chekhov's stories. In particular,
the author focuses on the extent of communication between people of different social classes and the
diverse views these people hold on social inequality. Some characters take positive steps to discuss this
issuesuch as Ivan in Gooseberries, who wants to open channels of communication between the
landowners and the peasants. But as we see in My Lifeor in In the Ravine, these channels sometimes
either do not exist or are easily broken down. Often, the characters simply fail to understand one
another's point of view. For example, in Ward No. six,we see that Rabin is desperate to share his ideas
with the gifted lunatic Gromov, who openly dismisses Rabin's ideas as "rationalization" (although the
doctor is finally convinced of the lunatic's philosophy.) In On Official Duty, the constable Loshadin
talks to the examining magistrate about duty and personal responsibility, but the young man seems
more depressed than animated by their conversation. On a more personal level, Olga in The
Darling has no views of her own to express, while Gurov in The Lady with the Dog finds that he cannot
communicate with his friends or his wife. In general, therefore, Chekhov's characters search for
understanding but fall short in their inability or reluctance to communicate.
THE NATURAL WORLD
Many tales, such as Agafya and Steppe, are set in the Russian countryside and focus on the beauty of its
landscape. Chekhov is clearly intrigued by his characters' relationship to the land and how this
variesor does not varyaccording to social standing. Peasants work to earn their daily bread, while
some members of the upper class drive around in grand chaises admiring the view. Often, it is
Chekhov's aristocratic characters who seem shocked by the diverse wildlife and scope of their
surroundings. For example, little Yegorushka in Steppe is bemused by the steppe's vast distances, while
Gurov in The Lady With the Dog admires scenic sea views from a vantage point in Yalta. Nature
consistently inspires either fear, wonder, or discomfort in Chekhov's protagonists. Often, Chekhov's
impressionistic evocation of the landscape overshadows his plot altogether. In particular, we see
that Steppe's major focus is its setting, rather than the events that it describes.
Symbols
THE NIGHT SKY
The cosmos has symbolic significance in many Chekhov stories. In particular, the protagonist of The
Night Before Easter is impressed by the vast starry landscape of the night sky. Lipa in In the
Ravine also looks to the moon and stars but sees them as splendid symbols of nature's indifference
toward humankind. The night sky thus takes on whatever significance the characters accord it and can
be either a force for admiration or despair.
FOOD AND DRINK
Along with their clothes and houses, food and drink symbolize the wealth and social status of
Chekhov's characters. The gentrified Yegorushka is fascinated by the peasants' plain fish stew
in Steppe, while the peasant Savka relishes his plain boiled eggs and "greasy cakes" in Agafya. In
contrast, the Tsybukin family in In the Ravine glut themselves on homemade jam and feast on four
meals a day while peasants starve. We thus see how food assumes a symbolic as well as practical
import in Chekhov's tales. As a marker of affluence and class affiliation, it provides readers with clues
as to the characters' likely outlook on society.
Ward No. six
SUMMARY

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The story opens with a description of a lunatic asylum, ward no. six, in a provincial hospital. The ward
has five pitiful inmatesincluding the "imbecile" Jew Moiseikaand is overseen by a coarse porter
named Nikita. The narrator describes how a university-educated inmate named Ivan Gromov drove
himself mad with paranoia and was admitted to the asylum. The hospital is run by Dr. AndreiYefimich
Rabin, a "strange man" who became a doctor to humor his father, after actually wanting to become a
priest. Rabin begins his career as a highly motivated physician who looks after his patients with the
greatest of care. However, he is soon disillusioned by the "uselessness" of his task, neglects to visit the
wards, and becomes indifferent to his patients' plight. Rabin eases his conscience with the thought that
every man is born to die and concludes that "suffering leads man to perfection."
The doctor fills his time reading books and discussing questions of immortality with the postmaster
Mikhail Averianych. Rabin proposes to his friend that life is "a vexatious trap" in which mankind's
only solace is the company of other intelligent men. As Rabin grows more preoccupied with death and
the meaning of life, he turns away from Mikhail and toward Gromov for intellectual companionship.
Initially spiteful and hostile, the lunatic mocks Rabin for his "rationalizations" and stoic philosophy.
Gromov's attitude then softens to one of "condescending irony" as he sees how the doctor values his
opinions. The hospital staff grows concerned for Rabin's sanity, and even the doctor notices "an air of
mystery" all around him. Things come to a head when Rabin is invited to attend a committee meeting
that is actually an inquiry into his psychological health. Rabin is "insulted and angered" by this
patronizing treatment and decides to go on a trip to Moscow and Warsaw with Mikhail.
The trip is not a success as Rabin grows annoyed with his friend and spends all of his money on paying
their expenses. On his return, the doctor finds that he has been ousted from his post by Dr. Khobotov
and fired without a pension. Although Mikhail vows to pay back all the money he owes, Rabin sinks
into a fatalistic depression. He decides that every facet of his life is "trivial and inconsequential" and is
rudely dismissive of Dr. Khobotov's and Mikhail's offers of help. Although he later apologizes for his
outbursts, Rabin finds himself tricked by Khobotov into entering ward no. 6. Once there, Rabin finds
that he cannot leave and fearfully concedes that he is being shown "real life" for the first time. Egged
on by Gromov, Rabin is beaten by Nikita for daring to protest at his incarceration. The doctor
miserably concludes that just as he unconsciously abused the lunatics during the past, so he too is being
unjustly treated. The following day, Rabin dies of an apoplectic stroke. Before he passes into "oblivion
forever," the doctor rejects the philosophy of immortality and has a vision of running deer. Only the
doctor's old cook and his faithful friend Mikhail attend the funeral.
ANALYSIS
As one of Chekhov's longer and more politicized stories, Ward No. six was published to universal
acclaim in 1892. It explores the conflict between reality and philosophynamely, how people
intellectualize reality to justify their own inaction. These two conflicting ideas are personified in the
lunatic Gromov and the apathetic Dr. Rabin. A die-hard realist, Gromov declares that Rabin's
isolationism is only "laziness, fakirism and stupefaction." This is a harsh but essentially true judgment.
In particular, we see that the doctor retreats into the comfort of "rationalization" to assuage his own
conscience. Rabin knows that the hospital is an "immoral institution prejudicial to the health of the
townspeople," but he feels no compassion for its patients or inmates. As he remarks to Gromov, there is
"nothing but idle chance" in his being a doctor and in Gromov being an asylum patient. Rabin thus
justifies his indifference to others' plight by suggesting that everything is subject to chance. This
doctrine is both unconvincing and heartless, and the author seems to scorn Rabin's philosophy. We see
how Rabin, a self-confessed stoic, is forced to confront pain and loneliness. Ultimately, goaded on by
Gromov, the doctor ends up condemning the senseless reality of suffering and rejecting his previous
philosophy. The tale's supreme irony is that this conversion occurs within an asylum that the
protagonist had held to be permissible, on the grounds that it was provided for by chance.
But ward no. six is more than a setting for Rabin's moral conversion, it is also a microcosm of Russian
society. The porter Nikita monitors his inmates like a prison warden; Moiseika represents the capitalist
mindset with his fascination for collecting money; and Gromov personifies society's activist element,
railing against injustice. This paranoid lunatic condemns the status quo: Gromov is a radical who dares
to challenge what David Margarshack terms Rabin's "non- resistance to evil." To better understand
Chekhov's sympathetic characterization of Gromov and his condemnation of Ragin, one should note
that the author visited the notorious Sakhalin prison in 1890. Chekhov was profoundly affected by his
experiences at the prison, where he surveyed the inmates and witnessed first- hand the horrors of prison
life. It thus comes as no surprise to see the author challenging society's dehumanization of criminals
and lunatics in Ward No. 6. In particular, he questions the abuses committed by officials whose
authority is upheld by the state. However, Chekhov does not use his story to force a personal or
political philosophy onto his readers. Ultimately, we are left to make up our own minds on the issue of
state control and institutional corruption. Ward No. six is a work that raises important issues regarding

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the relationships between citizens and state, and between people in positions of power and those whom
they incapacitate.
Similarly, although he deals with broad philosophical and moral questions in this tale, Chekhov never
overlooks his passion for details. We read that Rabin's asylum-issue shirt is too long and that his
dressing gown "smelt of smoked fish." These descriptions subtly evoke the mood of the ward as well as
making Rabin's experiences seem more pathetic. The scent of smoked fish lingers in our noses as it
does Rabin's: it is something that cannot be reasoned away and, as such, symbolizes the miserable
reality of the doctor's new life.
Steppe (The Story of a Journey)
SUMMARY
The tale opens with a priest, Father Khristofor Siriysky, and a merchant, Ivan Kuzmichov, traveling
across the Steppe to sell some wool. The men are accompanied by Kuzmichov's young nephew,
Yegorushka, who is being taken to school in another town. The little boy records the monotonous yet
seemingly ever-changing sights and sounds of the Steppe with a child's nonjudgmental eye. A windmill
is said to look like "a tiny man waving his arms" while scythes make "[s]wish, swish" sounds as they
are wielded in unison. The priest and the merchant discuss the merits of education, particularly their
own, and talk about the object of their trip, which is to find the wool-merchant Varlamov. Meanwhile,
Yegorushka stares in fascination at the baked landscape surrounding him. He is particularly intrigued
by the wiry peasants of the Steppe, such as the woman with "long thin legs like a heron" whom he
watches sifting grain. Storm clouds gather and dissipate seemingly without reason, and the protagonist
sweats under the merciless sun.
Although most of the action centers on events in the natural world, Yegorushka also has a series of
adventures with intriguing characters. One, a Jew named Solomon, is contemptuous of sycophants and
those who believe that they are superior to others. Another is the beautiful Countess Dranitskaia,
looking to find the elusive Varlamov, who thrills Yegorushka by kissing him on the cheek. When the
chaise encounters a long wagon train, Yegorushka's uncle hands the boy over to one of the drivers and
explains that they will travel the next leg of the journey separately. Yegorushka then spends many days
traveling with the wagon band, during which time he gets to know all of the drivers by name and learns
all about their characters and life stories. Yegorushka is surprised to discover that every man has "a
splendid past and a very poor present." He becomes particularly friendly with an old driver named
Pantelei, whose "true" tales are either made up or outrageously embellished. The little boy also meets a
delighted Ukrainian named Konstantinwho rejoices in the beauty of his young wifeand a violent
and vindictive wagon driver named Dymov. Yegorushka even comes across the wool-merchant Mr.
Varlamov, a "short, little grey man in big boots," whom he finds to be rude and condescending.
Following these events, Yegorushka is forced to endure a terrible storm in which he catches a fever. By
the time he reunites with his uncle at a nearby inn, he is exhausted and delirious. Father Khristofor and
Ivan Kuzmichov greet the boy and discuss the large profit they have made from selling the wool. The
priest then rubs Yegorushka down with oil and vinegar and puts him to bed. When the protagonist
awakes the next day he feels significantly better and is given a lecture about the importance of
schooling by the priest. His uncle then takes Yegorushka to stay with a friend of his mother's named
Nastasia, leaving the little boy to wonder sorrowfully about his new life. The tale ends simply with the
question, "What would that life be like?"
ANALYSIS
Steppe was published in 1888, the year Chekhov was awarded the Russian Academy's prestigious
Pushkin prize. Sweeping in theme and long in length, it marked a major turning point in the
twenty-eight-year-old author's career. Donald Rayfield notes that this tale was Chekhov's "memorial to
a wild countryside that was now engulfed Steppe is literally a masterpiece." Readers see how the
author foregrounds his environment within the story and concentrates on descriptions of the landscape's
arid beauty. For instance, his lyrical inventory of "[t]he sun-baked hills, brownish-green and violet in
the distance, with their quiet shadowy tones, the plain with the misty distance and, flung above them,
the sky" evidences Chekhov's profound engagement with this environment. But the author does not
refrain from also conveying the dreariness and "oppressive" heat of the plains. Little ironic flourishes
such as, "the disillusioned steppe began to wear its jaded July aspect," tell us much about the
landscape's coarseness as well as its more poetic qualities. Thus, Chekhov's hymn to the steppe of his
youthwhich would later be developed by an army of western industrialistsis in keeping with the
awesome majesty of its terrain. Readers both marvel and shudder at its vast scope which, if it does not
entirely dwarf the characters, at least trivializes their concerns. Like young Yegorushka, we too tune
out to the adult characters' dry sermonizing on education to let our eyes roam the countryside.
Our reactions to the steppe's magnificence are further heightened by Chekhov's use of a child
protagonist. Yegorushka's descriptions range from the endearingly navehe talks about how his

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 grandmother "just slept and slept" in her coffin following her burialto the unconsciously profound,
rendered all the more impressive by their simplicity. We thus read how "[t]he blackness in the sky
yawned wide and breathed white fire," while the stillness of night was troubled by a "growl of
thunder." The author changes his tone with subtle sleight of hand: at one moment we listen to a small
boy discussing peasant fish stew, the next we wonder along with an anonymous narrator at the "sense
of loneliness" one feels staring at a night sky strewn with stars. Readers feel the alien power of the
steppe through Yegorushka's awed descriptions of terrific storms, endless vistas, and strange, haunting
sounds. But there is also silence on the plain, and even the occasional birdcall fails to "stir the
stagnation" settling over the parched ground. We thus see how the author interweaves episodes of
frenetic activity with silence to hint at the timeless immensity of the land. Even the plethora of
supporting charactersthe genial and diminutive priest, the refined Countess, and the sadistic wagon
driver Dymovfail to divert our attention for too long away from the landscape. Chekhov, of course,
does not intend them to: it almost seems that he downplays plot in order to emphasize setting. Rayfield
notes that many story linessuch as Kuzmichov's search for Varlamov, and the Countess's mysterious
appearance at the innjust "peter out," as though such action is secondary to the text's central focus.
Ultimately, we see that Chekhov's tale is a testament to the boundless natural world; against the steppe,
human lives seem episodic and impermanent.
"Fat and Thin" (Russian: , translit. Tolstyi I tonkyi) is a satirical short
story by Anton Chekhov, first published in the No. 40, 1 October 1883 issue of Oskolki magazine,
signed A. Chekhonte (. ). It was included into Chekhov's 1886 collection Motley
Stories( ) published in Saint Petersburg and later in the Volume 1 of the Adolf
Marks's Chekhov's Collected Works (1899).[1][2][3]

History[edit]
The plot of the short story "Fat and Thin" in its original version was based on an anecdote, and the
conflict between the characters arose accidentally, due to the involuntary oversight of the "Thin".
The 1886 edition, being in general textually close to the previous edition of 1883, changed the meaning
of the story. The motive of official subordination was eliminated: the "Thin" now grovels before the
"Fat" without any practical need, "reflexively". The story also received a much greater satirical
sharpness and generality.[3]

Characters[edit]
Main characters:
Misha the Fat
Louise is the wife of Porphyry
Porphyry the Thin
Nathanael is the son of Porphyry

Minor characters:

Plot[edit]
At a railway station the fat one, Mischa, accidentally meets the thin one, Porfiri. The thin man travels accompanied
by his wife and son. The two old school friends greet each other in an exuberant and informal manner. A
conversation follows, and it is about careers of both of them as fovernment officials. The thin one apeears to be an
office chairman with a low salary, and his wife gives music lessons.
The Fat has become a Privy Council and has a greater authority than the Thin. The Thin shrinks, and at once
addresses to his school friend as "Your Excellency." The Thick rejects "this respect". The thin man continues to
talk in a formal way with his old friend. The Privy Councilor is repelled by such submissiveness: he says goodbye
and leaves.

FAT AND THIN

Fat and Thin

The story is very short but there's a lot to chew on. (He-he-he!)

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The fat and thin man know each other from their school days.

They meet accidentally. Not having seen each other since they were boys, they begin trying to catch up.

The thin man loves to talk -- mostly about himself. He tells the fat man all about his family and work. And then the
bomb drops. The thin man is a head clerk in the civil service but the fat man is now a privy councilor, a high
official.

The news is too much to digest for the thin man. All he can do is compliment the fat man and as the young
generation today would say "gas him up".

The thin man now feels like a failure. He is comparing his accomplishments with the fat man and there's not much
meat on the bone. What we get with the thin man is a lot of superficiality. He is not very deep. His whole life it
seems is mainly show and the inner happiness and satisfaction is not well-developed. His body is thin and so is his
soul.

The fat man is proud to be a privy councilor but he doesn't stand on his rank. He prefers for his old friend to treat
him as an equal. You get the sense that he is a decent man and well-rounded. In fact, the fat man never brags about
his accomplishments and only tells the thin man he is a privy councilor when asked.

The fat man is more content. He has achieved more in the civil service. Maybe his personality helped him move
forward or possibly his success has given him comfort. Either way, he is now in the position of being charitable to
those less fortunate.

The thin man might've wanted to get ahead too much and like a lover who is overeager turned people off with his
runaway desire. Not attaining his goals has left him bitter and jealous of those who have.

The fat man could've helped the thin man if the thin man was honest. All that obsequiousness was too heavy a load
for the fat man to deal with -- so instead he walks away leaving the thin man with the stress of failure for the rest of
his life.

Meanwhile, the thin man undervalues his greatest possession, his ace in the hole, which is right in front of him and
something which the fat man may be missing.

A family.

The fat man wins by default.

Ionych

Indeed, Ionych depicts the bleakness of provincial life more forcefully than Chekhovs other late stories through
two interlined narrative devices. One is the characterisation of Yekaterinas presumably well-meaning but utterly
tiresome, predictable and absurd parents, Ivan Petrovich and Vera Iosofovna Turkin. The other is the central story
of Dr Dmitry Ionych Startsevs descent into a kind of living hell. As he becomes more financially successful and
socially more prominent Ionych becomes increasingly bloated and loathsome.

The Turkins are regularly recommended to newcomers to their provincial town as the most cultivated and gifted
family, a kind of antidote to the monotony and boredom of life there. Ivan organises amateur theatricals and
when entertaining guests or talking with his family behaves like a comical, theatrical caricature of himself. He has
become so accustomed to doing this that he no longer seems to behave or to communicate like a normal person. In
company he refers to his wife as my sweet and chick-chick, feigning a kind of affection completely devoid of
intimacy or depth. Similarly, he calls his daughter Yekaterina Peacock and Pussycat. In response to her desire
to go to the city to study music her father sweeps aside any controversy, argument or discussion and dismisses her
as a child. Chekhov has created Ivan Turkin as a character so defined and limited by his mannerisms that he has
become meaningless, insincere and completely affected.

The entertainments organised by the Turkins for the genteel society of their town are intended by them to be seen
as cultural salons based on the model offered by the aristocratic and cultural elites of metropolitan
Europe. However, unlike those salons there is no social, political or intellectual discussion or dissent, there is no

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art and there are no artists. Instead, there are only amateurs and dilettantes: Ivans tiresome affectations, Veras
romantic novels and Yekaterinas unpolished piano playing. Like Ionych the reader becomes a disbelieving and
strangely unamused observer. We witness the hammering . . . thunder . . . those deafening, tiresome, yet civilised
sounds of Yekaterinas piano recitals; all that claptrap about . . . things that never happen in real life in Veras
dreadful novels and the weird lingo of Ivans jokes and riddles.

Turkins wife is also good at tiresome jokes and affected manners. On first welcoming Ionych into her household
she says, You are permitted to flirt with me. My husbands as jealous as Othello, but well try and behave so he
doesnt notice a thing. The cultural reference to Shakespeare is only momentarily interesting as Ionych is
ushered in to the utterly tedious evening and we begin to realise that no one present could be capable of the grand
passion that drives Othello to murder the one thing he loves. Five years later Vera Turkins flirtatious greetings
are no longer so witty or so light, indeed, taking on a more sinister and demanding tone reminiscent of the kind of
pressure placed on Podgorin in A Visit to Friends: You dont want to flirt with me, you never call on us, so I must
be too old for you. But my young daughters arrived, perhaps shell have more luck. In other words, the mother
sees Ionych as an eligible bachelor to whom she is offering her daughter; all he needs to do is ask for her.

The love story in Ionych is a story about lost opportunity and missed communication, about Ionychs initial
enthusiasm and eventual unwillingness and Yekaterinas initial immaturity and too-long delayed readiness. A
year after first meeting the family Ionych comes to believe that, With someone like her he could discuss literature,
art anything he liked in fact; he could complain to her about life, about people . . . There is, however, a
reservation; during serious conversations she would sometimes suddenly start laughing quite
inappropriately. The turning point in their story is divided between the cemetery scene where she stands him up
and Ionychs subsequent proposal in the Turkin lounge room. The cemetery scene centres around the Demetti
tomb where a visiting Italian opera singer was once buried, symbolic, perhaps, of the death of culture in this
provincial backwater. It provides Chekhov with the opportunity for one of those lyrical passages of which the
best example is Gurov above the sea at Oreanda in The Lady with the Little Dog in which a character meditates
upon the duality of nature; its sympathetic proximity and its distant impassivity. The moonlight first evokes for
Ionych the presence of some secret that promised peaceful, beautiful, eternal life but then it kindles his desires
and plunges him into anxiety. Imaging himself dead, Ionych contemplates the mute anguish of non-existence, of
stifled despair . . . Waiting for the girl he loves and desires in a place where he is surrounded by the graves of the
dead, Ionych is struck by the futility of passion and desire for flesh that will in its turn die. [W]hat a terrible joke
Nature plays on man and how galling to be conscious of it! Here is the paradox and predicament of the human
condition, our consciousness of mortality and our uncertainty as to how this should shape our lives. Chekhov
often poses the question but leaves it open. His compatriot, Russian Slavophile author Dostoyevsky, posed the
same question in the firing squad paradox. A man is blindfolded and led out to the place where he is to be
executed when he is reprieved at the final moment before the soldiers take their aim to fire. The man vows to
himself and to his creator never to waste a single moment of the life that has been miraculously restored to him
only to find that with the passage of a little time he has reverted to all the worst of his conceits and habits.

The proposal scene which takes place in the Turkin lounge room begins with Ionych expressing his fervent desire
and is brought to a close by Yekaterinas profession of love for art, her desire to become a concert pianist and her
recognition that family life would tie me down for ever. In other stories Chekhov applauds such commitment
think of Nadya in The Bride and Anna in The Lady with the Little Dog but in this story he seems to be dealing
with Yekaterina as yet another idealist whose dreams are unrealistic and impractical. Yekaterinas journey of
self-discovery will only be revealed four years later when she acknowledges that, I played like everyone else and
there was nothing special about me. Im as much a concert pianist as Mamas a writer. By this time Yekaterina
is attempting to place Ionych in such a position that he will be able to propose to her a second time. Her victory,
though, will be hers alone. Ive no illusions about myself. Ionych will never visit the Turkins again.

The most disturbing aspect of this story, though, is Ionychs descent into his own personal
Hell-on-Earth. Chekhov seems to link this with the vulgar materialism of his financial success. Immediately
prior to his first visit to the Turkins Ionych is on foot and in town doing a spot of shopping. A year later he has
his own carriage and pair and a coachman . . . who wore a velvet waistcoat. After having been jilted in the
cemetery he is once again condemned to a tea-drinking ceremony during which he absent-mindedly
contemplates the size of the dowry he would receive from the Turkins if he marries their daughter.

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Four years later Ionych no longer goes anywhere on foot. He has become overweight and short-winded and now
drives, three horses abreast and with bells! An educated man, he is now established and successful in a town
where he can speak intelligently with no one. Hardworking, he is surrounded by townspeople who did nothing,
absolutely nothing, and they were interested in nothing. Ionychs professional success is measured solely in
monetary terms in yellow or green notes that reeked of perfume, vinegar, incense and train oil and all he can do is
deposit them in his current account. In some respects these details about shopping and saving represent
Chekhovs understanding of modernity and his prescience about our increasing obsession with material objects in
consumer culture. He recognises well the future in which material comfort will be pursued through financial
security. The details of Ionychs banknotes allude to the advent of the cash economy (remember, in feudal society
wealth had been measured in acres and serfs): perfume for the women of the gentry; vinegar for working class
women; incense for the clergy and train oil for the working class men.

So, Ionychs decline is linked with his increasing isolation in a provincial backwater and his continued pursuit of
financial success. Several years later in the immediate present of the omniscient narrator Ionych has an
enormous medical practice and two houses in town, he owns an estate and he has put on so much weight that he
has difficulty breathing . . . hes heavy-going now, irritable. He yells at his patients, is the terror of his club
footmen and servants and his recollection of the Turkins suggests almost no recollection at all.

"Ionych" (Russian: ) is a 1898 short story by Anton Chekhov.

Publication[edit]
The story was published in the No. 9, September 1898 issue of the Monthly Literary Supplements
to Niva magazine. In a slightly revised version, Chekhov included it into Volume 9 of the 18991901, first edition
the Collected Works by A.P. Chekhov, published by Adolf Marks.[1]

Background[edit]
The story, written in Nice, France, in the early 1898, was originally intended for Russkaya Mysl. Chekhov opted
against sending the manuscript by post and, upon returning home, in May, handed it to Vukol Lavrov. Then he
suddenly changed his mind and in a 6 June letter asked Viktor Goltsev to send it back, saying it was not fit
for Russkaya Mysl. On 10 June he received the galley proofs and the same day sent it to Niva. This magazine's
editor Rostislav Sementkovsky was apparently pleasantly surprised and flattered. "I've read your story with
immense delight and, needless to say, all your wishes will be met," he wrote Chekhov in a 18 June letter.

Plot[edit]
Doctor Dmitry Ionovich Startsev comes to the provincial town S., to work for the local zemstvo. He starts visiting
the Turkin family, considered to be the pride of the town, where the husband runs a small amateur theatre, the wife
writes novels and their beautiful daughter Ekaterina (known informally as Kotik, which means Kittie) plays the
piano, preparing herself for the conservatory. Unlike the majority of the townsfolk, Startsev does not take this acme
of the local cultural life seriously, yet Kotik, full of charm, naivety and youthful spirits, easily conquers his heart.
Before making the proposal, he even takes a midnight trip to the town's old graveyard[note 1] where she'd jovially
made a mock appointment with him, and even finds this silly adventure delightful. She is full of ambitions, though,
and refuses him. For three days Startsev suffers greatly, then learns that she indeed had departed from the town to
enroll into the conservatory, settles down into normalcy and soon all but forgets her, remembering his momentary
madness with mild amusement.
Four years on, and Startsev is now a respected medical man, who owns a troika. Ekaterina returns to the town. She
looks better than ever, and her groundless musical ambitions are left behind. Still, the naivety and freshness are
gone. As the two meet, she eagerly tries to re-awaken his interest in her, but Startsev remains unresponsive. Now
everything about the family irritates him and he is very glad he'd not married. Ignoring her insistent attempts at
making him again regular visitor, he never sets foot in the Turkin's house again.
Several more years pass. Startsev now is a rich man with vast practice, for whom collecting the money from
patients becomes almost a hobby. In his troika, shouting at cabmen around him, he looks like 'pagan god'. Owning
two houses and an estate, he is now fat, irascible, and generally indifferent to the world around him. People refer to
him as 'Ionych', which implies a mixture of familiarity and slight contempt. And the Turkins are the same: the
husband runs a little theatre, entertaining his guests with well-rehearsed humour, the wife reads aloud her horrible,

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trite novels, and Ekaterina still likes to play her piano very loud. It's just that she looks now much older and, her
health deteriorating, each autumn takes a trip to the Crimea.

Reception[edit]
The story was warmly received. The most detailed and, in retrospect, insightful review came from D.N.
Ovsyaniko-Kulikovsky, who, writing for Zhurnal Dlya Vsekh,[2] hailed Chekhov as "an independent force blazing
in literature the trail of its own". The critic subjected to thorough analysis Chekhov's method who "...never gives us
a well-worked, all-round portrait of his characters... Just provides one, two, three strokes and then backs this sketch
up with a kind of see-through, unusually subtle and to shrewd psychological analysis". Ovsyaniko-Kulikovsky
considered "Ionych" the most perfect, complete example of Chekhov's art.[1]

Vanka by Anton Chekhov

In Vanka by Anton Chekhov we have the theme of desperation, innocence, compassion, suffering and commitment.
Taken from his The Complete Short Stories collection the story is narrated in the third person by an unnamed
narrator and after reading the story the reader realises just how desperate Vanka is to return home to his
grandfather. By writing his letter to his grandfather Vanka is able to outline the mistreatment that he receives from
Alyahin and how it affects him. Life with Alyahin is so much different for Vanka. There is no sense of compassion
in their relationship. Something that Vanka has when it comes to his relationship with his grandfather. If anything
the bond between both Vanka and his grandfather is so strong that it is difficult for Vanka to forget about his
grandfather. He is not only unable to let go of the life he lived with his grandfather but he is also enduring severe
difficulty under the guidance of Alyahin. Who appears to view Vanka as no more than a work-horse. Someone who
will perform duties that he himself is not prepared to do. Though some critics might suggest that what is happening
to Vanka is part of his apprenticeship with Alyahin it is more likely that Chekhov is placing a spotlight on life in
Russia at the time the story was written. With Alyahin being no more than an example of how some people treated
others. With a lack of compassion and understanding.

There is also a noticeable sense of naivety or innocence when it comes to Vanka addressing the letter to his
grandfather. It is clear to the reader that because Vanka does not know his grandfathers address he will never
receive the letter. Leaving Vanka to suffer at the hands of Alyahin. If anything Vanka is facing a lost cause and he
is to continue to suffer. All because of his youth and inexperience when it comes to matters of the real world. What
is also interesting about Vankas letter is that he is able to show compassion to others. He has not forgotten people
who he has previously lived with. If anything his heart is pure as one would expect a nine year old childs heart to
be. Though he is being mistreated he can still see the good in some people. Vanka is yet to be fully defeated by
Alyahin. Though he finds things difficult while living with Alyahin he still has some hope or faith in man-kind.

It is also possible that Chekhov is exploring the theme of commitment. So determined is Vanka to leave Alyahins
home that he takes the time to write the letter to his grandfather outlining the difficulties that he is incurring. As
readers we are aware that Vanka has no option but to write to his grandfather. The option of running away from
Alyahin has been taken away from him due to the fact that he has no boots to wear. He cannot walk the long road
to his grandfathers home without boots. Which in many ways is ironic considering that Alyahin is a shoemaker yet
his apprentice has no shoes to wear. It is possible that Alyahin has deliberately not allowed Vanka wear shoes
because he knows that Vanka might run away. If anything Alyahin may be completely conscious of how badly he
is treating Vanka yet decides to do nothing about it. Which again places a spotlight on Russian society at the time
the story was written. Young people like Vanka were seen as instruments to be used and abused rather than trained
in any particular craft. Which was most likely Vankas grandfathers expectations. That Vanka learnt to become a
shoemaker and not having him treated as a slave to please Alyahin.

The end of the story is also interesting as though the reader knows that Vankas grandfather will never receive the
letter Vanka himself is full of hope that he will be rescued from his situation. Something that is noticeable by how
care-free Vanka becomes after sending the letter to his grandfather. No longer is he overly concerned about how he
is being treated as he views his time with Alyahin as coming to an end. In Vankas eyes it will only be a matter of
time before his grandfather comes for him. Though some critics might suggest that there is an element of sadness at
the end of the story. Vanka doesnt see things like that. He has no conception of how the world operates (address
on letter) and is living his life with hope again. Though the hope may be short lived it is important nonetheless. As
Vanka is allowed to be a child again at the end of the story. It is his firm belief that he will be taken away from
Alyahins home and that drives Vanka towards happiness. That along with the fact that Vanka believes he will see
his grandfather again suggests that Vanka will be happy again. Even if that happiness is only in his mind. The

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reality being that Vanka is to continue to suffer at the hands of Alyahin but for today he is a child again with hopes
and aspirations. No longer beaten or defeated by Alyahin.

Chekhov's Vanka is a short story which ostensibly has a lot of trappings of hope. First, the story takes place on
Christmas Eve, a time traditionally associated with redemption (through the birth of Jesus) and the granting of
wishes (presents are normally given during the Christmasseason and Santa Claus is additionally supposed to
deliver presents on Christmas Eve).

Second, the titular Vanka is an orphan apprenticed to an abusive shoemaker, the master dragged me by the hair into
the yard and gave me a beating. So fearful is Vanka of his master that he must write his letter in secret, before
tracing the shape of the first letter, he looked several times fearfully in the direction of the doors and windows.
Usually stories featuring plucky orphans under abusive custodians (like Annie, Oliver Twist or even Cinderella)
end up with the orphan escaping their horrid surroundings to a new home of love and sunlight.

Third, there is a hero just waiting in the wings to rescue Vanka. His grandfather, Konstantin Makarich, is a jolly
man, his face always crinkling with laughter who Vanka has spent happy times with, They had a wonderful time
together. Grandfather chuckled, the frost crackled, and Vanka, not to be outdone, clucked away cheerfully. Based
on this descrption, it would be fair for the reader to assume that Konstantin Makarich will come at once to rescue
his grandson once he hears of his (Vanka's) plight.

All the elements for a potential happy ending are in place. Vanka ran to the nearest mailbox and thrust his
precious letter into the slot. He had learned from clerks how, letters were dropped in boxes and from these boxes
they were carried all over the world. However, the clerks did not mention, and Vanka does not realize, that such
letters need to have a stamp on them. Vanka clearly only has an envelope without a stamp, Vanka twice folded the
sheet of paper and then he put it in an envelope bought the previous day for a kopeck. Without such a stamp, there
is no possibility that his letter will reach his grandfather.

The elements of hope which the story lines up so neatly are all for naught for want of a simple but crucial detail.
Vanka does not know any better, of course. In fact his knowledge of the postal system is only secondhand, as
the clerks did not tell him he needed a stamp, he did not buy a stamp. Thus do the mundane realities of the world
oftentimes crush grandiose, perhaps childish, hopes.

Moreover, Vanka's descriptions of Konstantin Makarich call into question as well the character of his grandfather.
Certainly Makarich sounds like an amiable chap, but is he really willing to raise his grandchild? There is a subtle
hint in the story that it was Makarich that sent Vanka away, when Pelageya died, they relegated the orphan Vanka
to the servants' kitchen to be with his Grandfather, and from there he went to Moscow to the shoemaker Alyakhin....
As such, even if the letter somehow reached Makarch, it is most likely that he would not have come and rescued
his grandchild.

Sometimes cliches of hope fair little against the cruel realities of the world.

"Vanka" (Russian: )[note 1] is an 1886 short story by Anton Chekhov.

Publication[edit]
The story was first published in Peterburgskaya Gazeta's No. 354 (25
December; new style: 7 January 1887), 1886 issue, in the Christmas Stories
section, signed A. Chekhonte (. ).[1]
In a slightly revised version, it was included into the 1888 collection Short
Stories (, Saint Petersburg) and appeared unchanged in all of its
18881899 re-issues. It made its way into the
compilations Children (, 1889) to be reproduced unchanged in its
second and third (1890, 1895) editions. In 1900, with unauthorized cuts, it
appeared in a children's reader Zolotyie Kolosya (Golden Spikes). Chekhov

128
included the story into Volume 4 of his Collected Works published by Adolf Marks in 18991901.[1]

Synopsis[edit]
A nine-year-old boy is in desperate need to convince his grandfather, his only relative (a wayward character, who
seems to be totally indifferent to the boy's fate), to take him back to his country home. Stealthily, he writes a letter
to describe the unbearable life he leads in the house of the shoemaker Aliakhin, whom he serves as an apprentice
for, suffering from hunger, abuse and humiliation. Finally, very pleased with his effort, he puts it into an envelope,
inscribes the address: "The village, to my grandfather, Konstantin Makarych" and drops it into a post-box, well
aware that it is on this precious item that his whole life now totally depends upon.

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Gooseberries

SUMMARY

The sky is overcast with heavy clouds, but it does not rain. Two old menIvan, a vet, and Burkin, a teacherwalk
across the fields. Ivan prepares to tell his friend a story and lights his pipe in preparation. At this point a storm
breaks and the men run to shelter at their friend Aliokhin's estate. They find the forty year-old standing in one of
his barns near a winnowing machine. Aliokhin is dirty from his work, and he invites his friends into the main house
to bathe. A beautiful young girl named Pelageia brings the men towels and some soap, and all three start to wash.
Ivan and Burkin are shocked when the water around Aliokhin turns brown, but Aliokhin makes the excuse that he
has not washed for a long while. Unexpectedly, Ivan rushes outside and flings himself into the wide expanse of
water in front of the house, flinging his arms around and asking god for mercy.
The men return to the house, and the "lovely Pelageia" serves them tea. Ivan recounts the story he had intended to
tell Burkin. He explains how he and his younger brother Nikolai spent their childhood "running wild in the
country" after their dead father's estate was liquidated to pay debts and legal bills. Nikolai hated his job as a

130
government official, which he found too restrictive, and yearned to buy himself a country estate. He then became
"fearfully avaricious" and married a rich widow whom he did not love in order to raise capital. Nothing deterred
the young man from his ambition to buy a townhouse where he could grow gooseberries. Following the widow's
death, Nikolai purchased an estate where he planted twenty gooseberry bushes. On a visit to see his brother some
years later, Ivan found that Nikolai had become insufferably supercilious. The vet comments that even his fresh
gooseberries tasted "sour and unripe." Ivan remembers growing steadily depressed, because he identified in his
brother's smug self-satisfaction the "insolence and idleness of the strong." He recalls wishing that a man could
stand with a hammer "at the door of every happy, contented man reminding him with a tap that there are
unhappy people." The vet ends his tale by examining his own sense of happiness and personal fulfillment. He
concludes that he used to be as complacent as any other wealthy individual, believing that all men would one day
become free. Sadly, Ivan admits that he is now too "old and unfit for the struggle," and he implores Aliokhin to do
something.
Despite Ivan's impassioned sermonizing, Aliokhin and Burkin remain "unsatisfied" by his tale. Aliokhin feels
sleepy but delays going to bed in order to see if the conversation becomes more interesting. He is intrigued by
something that the two men discuss, but it is not revealed what this is. The three men soon go to bed, where Burkin
is kept awake by the smell of Ivan's pipe. The tale ends with a comment that the rain lashed against the windows all
night.
ANALYSIS
Gooseberries was written towards the end of Chekhov's life and was first published as the middle story of The
Little Trilogy in 1898. We see that the author examines two of his favorite themes within this tale: social injustice
and the quest for fulfillment. Ostensibly, this story deals with the hypocrisy of landowners who ignore the suffering
of those less fortunate than themselves. But Chekhov also raises a subtler issue than class divides, as we see when
Ivan asserts the hollowness of personal achievement. Ivan believes that successful people are blind to reality
because they believe they are insulated from misfortune. Ivan thus despairs at his own happiness as he recognizes
that "life will show him her claws sooner or later." By this stroke, which comes like a sting in the tail of his text,
Chekhov jolts his readers out of complacent objectivity. We are forced to question whether life is something to be
sailed through without the expectation of encountering problems or setbacks, or whether it provides us with an
opportunity to grasp "something greater and more rational" than happiness. Chekhov takes his opportunity to
answer Tolstoy's philosophical query, "How much land does a man need?", when Ivan asserts that man requires
only the freedom to roam the globe, where he can "have room to display all the qualities and peculiarities of his
free spirit."
Looking at Ivan's grand theorizing, we see that Chekhov raises more questions than he answers.
In Gooseberries, we are encouraged to use our own intellect and imagination to understand what motivates the
characters and, additionally, to guess at the meaning behind events. But this only makes the episodes and characters
depicted seem more realisticin "real life" we also have to hypothesize about what drives people's actions. The
means by which Chekhov dramatizes his narrativethe devices he uses to evoke atmosphere and create characters
that feel genuinealso create an impression of a place filled with real people, living real lives. The author does not
force the petty frustrations of human existence into the background of his text. In fact, he highlights such foibles in
order to flesh out the personalities of his characters. For instance, we read that the "oppressive smell" of "stale
tobacco" emanating from Ivan's pipe prevents Burkin from falling asleep. Similarly, we are shown how the water
around Aliokhin turns brown because he has not washed in a long time. Very little escapes Chekhov's attention or
fails to capture his interest; the smallest detail is used to vindicate the humanity as well as the frailty of his
characters. However, although Chekhov's work is rich in important (yet seemingly inconsequential) detail, he does
not force us to appreciate these wonderful touches. As the critic Maurice Baring noted in Landmarks of Russian
Literature,Chekhov "never underlines his effects, he never nudges the reader's elbow." It is left to us to pick up on
the minutiae and appreciate the finer subtleties of his text.

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