Constant Reader discussion

Our last story in the current schedule is "A Day in the Country" by Anton Chekhov. You can find it at the following link: https://www.classicshorts.com/stories...

There is a good article about Chekhov on Wikipedia. He was a physician and a writer. Four of his plays are considered classics and he is recognized for his short stories. Alice Munro is often called our Chekhov though I've never been able to see that connection. His father was the son of a former serf.

When this story started and I learned that Terenty was drunk, I expected him to be of no help at all to the children. However, immediately we learn that his best friend, Silitch, is the sacristan which means that he is the sexton of his church so he is responsible for its contents. He also is not intimidated by the storm, solves Fyokla's problem by getting her little brother's hand out of the hole in the tree and is also able to explain all of the natural world to the children.

Chekhov lived during some of the same period of time as Tolstoy in Russia. I've read far more by and about Tolstoy than Chekhov and I know that, in the last part of his life, Tolstoy freed his serfs and advocated for them. From what I've read about Chekhov, he seemed to believe that serfs were capable of far more than they were given credit for during this time period.

Terenty is a cobbler and I don't know if he would have been a serf but he is homeless and has few material goods. However, he knows everything about the natural world and Checkhov tells us that the other villagers know these things too. Now, he's passing it all on to the little beggar girl and her brother.

Do you think that is the main point of the story? Could Terenty also be a "holy fool"? I've read that, in Russian Eastern Orthodox religion, holy fools appeared to have nothing but represented Christ's teachings.

I promise not to go on and on about translators and translations in this discussion . . . at least not until 10 or 12 days have passed and all the other contributors have long since gotten on with their busy lives. I promise. I promise.

I wish only to point out here that no translator is credited for our English transcription of the story. It also appears at another site:

https://www.chekhovshorts.com/stories...

No translator is credited there either. By the way, that text is identical to ours except that the mysterious little square thingies are all rendered there as ellipses. I am familiar with ellipses generally, but I have no idea what those ellipses are intended to convey to me.

With that I will get on with this beautiful little story tomorrow.

I agree with you, Steve. The translator is everything. I've read Anna Karenina and War and Peace twice, just to get a, hopefully, better translation. But, classic short story sites don't give us much of a choice.

Barbara wrote: "Do you think that is the main point of the story?..."

I chuckled. And guess what. I am going to tell you why.

I, too, am a big fan of the Rooskies, particularly Mr. T and Big D. Anton Chekhov is off in his own little category in my mind, however. I am not at all an expert on him. In fact, I believe this is the first short story by him that I have ever read.

On the other hand, I am pretty sure that in past years I have seen two different stage productions of two different plays by him with two different wives. While I cannot remember which wives, I think those two plays were The Cherry Orchard and Uncle Vanya. As obviously untrustworthy as my memory is, I do have a distinct recollection of walking away from both of those productions wondering, what was that all about?

As it so happened, yesterday over late afternoon tea, I mentioned that in passing to the hifalutin New York City/Connecticut girl. Susan was sure about the one she has seen, The Seagull. She, too, walked away from that one wondering, what was that all about?

I am not sure that there ever is a main point to Chekhov's work, as we are using the word "point." They are purely character studies.

We did come close here:

He longs to tell someone all that is haunting him now in the darkness and agitating his soul, but there is no one to tell.

I read that and said, "Ahem! I am sitting right here reading this, Danilka. You can tell me." At least I thought that I should be allowed to hang around until the next day when I could eavesdrop while Danilka told Terenty. But no.

I actually like character studies and little ‘a day in the life” kinds of writing. Those are the pieces that I recommend to others and they respond with “There’s no plot!”. But, I do wonder sometimes, as with this one, if I’m missing something else.

Ellipses always denote a longer pause to me. Isn't that correct?

I would ask a translator if they're sure
A flash of lightning, some fourteen feet long, gleams above their head.
is correctly translated. Why fourteen? I don't know what to think of it... is that supposed to be long, for lightning? It doesn't seem to me that it is; I think of lightning as hundreds of feet long. This is the sort of thing that makes me sure I'm missing something, some sort of inside info.

I checked out the names:
Fyokla is a unique and charming name with a rich history in Russia. It is a feminine name of Greek origin, meaning "glory" or "fame." The name has been used in Russia for centuries and is associated with strong, independent women. While less common today, Fyokla still holds a certain nostalgic charm and a connection to traditional Russian culture.
The others didn't turn up anything--disappointing, since 'Terenty' was what made me look. The idea of a main character who is a shoeless cobbler intrigues, doesn't it?

Anyway, more seriously now, I took it at face value: it is a story about love.

Actually, me as well, Barb. I was not implying yesterday that I dislike this story. I was only trying to come to grips with the oddity of it.

Just because a story is a character study does not mean that it has no point. Usually, the point is a portrayal of some development in one of the characters. The big shot literary folks cleverly call that "character development." In this case and with that sentence at the end that I quoted yesterday, it appears to me that Danilka is on the cusp of some important character development. However, there is nary a hint in the story as to the nature of that.

I can only wonder if this story is one of a set of related ones, akin to Willa Cather's Castle Rock stories. But I don't have time to look into that. I have novels to read.

* * * * * *

Your comment about love leads me to little Fyolka, Tonya. She is the one who gets help for Danilka in his predicament after all. Were it not for her, Danilka's little skeleton would still be hanging from that tree with its hand caught. But then the poor little exhausted thing has to try to keep up with Danilka and Terenty who are busy taking in the birds and the bees and the apple blossom trees while totally ignoring her.

Let me just say for probably the 892nd time, thank God I was not born female! . . . if I can be forgiven for referring to gender in the old-fashioned binary way. From the outside looking in, girlhood and womanhood appear to me to be just one awful ordeal after another. My heart went out to little Fyolka here.

And by the way, not only are lightning flashes way more than fourteen feet long, but also, they do not "gleam."

How about this?

A long streak of lightning flashes above their heads.

(With the plural possessive "their," I have taken the liberty of making "head" plural as well.)

I believe that lightning is the very reason that someone long ago invented the infinitive "to flash." "To gleam" was inspired by something entirely unrelated to lightning, I'm sure.

Poor Anton Chekhov. Traduttore, traditore. I have never read his short story entitled "один день в стране." I kinda wish I could. I have only read this story entitled "A Day in the Country," which is how some unknown person with unknown credentials thinks that "один день в стране" should read in the English language, albeit a fractured English language in several places.

It has been just 3 days!

On the way to the library yesterday, I thought that I should check if this story was at my branch with a translator credit included. No luck, my branch may be the smallest, since we are in the north.

I had intended to talk about little Fyolka more above, but I guess my mind wandered. Part way into the story I couldn't help wondering as I read if he was describing somebody with albinism. Her white hair is mentioned more than once, her paleness. So I wondered if that should account for her comparative weakness, but I abandoned that idea and never searched up symptoms. Except for his warm greeting and immediate response to her request, she is just so neglected--I would have liked something more.

Steve said: Just because a story is a character study does not mean that it has no point. Usually, the point is a portrayal of some development in one of the characters.
That seems contradictory to me. Isn't a 'character study' story one thing, and a 'character development' story another thing?

(This discussion has me trying to dig out that Latin term applied to character development books, and it is making me nuts! First to solve it earns my eternal gratitude.)

I am sorry, Tonya. I felt pretty confident that all the other Constant Readers had already moved on with their busy lives contributing free content to amazon.com's marketing arm--goodreads.com.

We'll discuss little Fyolka some more. You have some interesting speculation there.

But I ain't quite done with my translation rant yet, now that I started it. But soon. I promise. I promise.

A dark leaden-coloured mass is creeping . . . .

That right there tipped me off. This anonymous translator is a Brit! I was immediately suspicious of every other English word choice in the story . . . which only makes the story that much more difficult to discuss than it ought to be. But it did explain other things.

These people have learned not from books, but in the fields, in the wood, on the river bank.

I did not at all blame Anton Chekhov for that "these people" business. I immediately chalked it up to the ultra class-conscious Brit's mind set.

Translations are a dilemma without a solution. I am done with that subject now.

* * * * * *

Tonya wrote: "That seems contradictory to me. Isn't a 'character study' story one thing, and a 'character development' story another thing?..."

You're right, Tonya. I was wrong. Thank you. (I still vividly recall that day back in '98 when you and I agreed on something.)

Regarding your albinism theory, I thought that interesting. It's possible.

Yet, I do not think we need to stretch that far for an explanation of Fyokla's lack of strength and endurance. For me, the easier and more obvious explanation is chronic malnutrition. As for her colouring, I have the impression that it is quite common among Russian girls and women. However, I do not claim to be an expert on the colouring of Russian girls and women, although I would have liked to be in my day.

Yesterday I read the entire Wikipedia entry for Chekhov. In doing so, of course, I followed a few different trails of links and determined that this translation is by Constance Garnett, who was born in Brighton, England. (One of the footnote links is https://www.ibiblio.org/eldritch/ac/j... and this page states: About this project: Constance Garnett translated and published 13 volumes of Chekhov stories in the years 1916-1922. Unfortunately, the order of the stories is almost random, and in the last volume Mrs. Garnett stated: "I regret that it is impossible to obtain the necessary information for a chronological list of all Tchehov's works." This site presents all 201 stories in the order of their publication in Russia.. Strange spelling of Chekhov, eh?)

On that page the link to "A Day in the Country" is this same translation as the one we read.

Also, I dived into Strindberg a bit, because somewhere it said he was not a Chekhov fan and I didn't recognize the name, and followed links to this: https://aeon.co/essays/the-woman-behi...
An essay I recommend. An interesting and tragic troubled woman's story. As you said: "From the outside looking in, girlhood and womanhood appear to me to be just one awful ordeal after another," and this woman's life is an ordeal.

I still need the solution: This discussion has me trying to dig out that Latin term applied to character development books, and it is making me nuts! First to solve it earns my eternal gratitude.

I know you have it. Maybe it is French? Yes, probably it is French. It is a common label, like film noir. Comes up in book reviews frequently.

Okay. Okay. Okay, Tonya. I know that I will not be supplying you with the term you are looking for, but this is interesting and may help.

In the book market, "literary fiction" refers to novels or stories that are character-driven in contrast to "genre fiction," which is plot driven.

Take a look at the widipedia article on "literary fiction." It may help you in your own search. (Apparently, another phrase for "literary fiction" is "books that don't sell well.")

By the way, roman à clef has nothing to do with this. You can discard that one right now. I don't think you are looking for in medias res either. That has to do with plot structure.

I knew you had it, and I expected you to give it to me, but at least you helped me dig it up. We can blame a lot of my failure on just being completely wrong about what I wanted to remember: it is a word, not a phrase, it is German, not Latin or French. It is bildungsroman!

Man, I hate when that happens, so annoying. I'm probably getting dementia.

Ta-da! Very well done, Tonya. I am proud of you.

We shall stay in touch as we both fall deeper into our dementia.

Now then, where was I? . . . . Ah, yes.

I was just deciding on my next book from the pile, and thinking about little Fyokla apparently, when I realized that I have been picturing her as this little French girl:
https://th.bing.com/th/id/OIP.B2sKgXo...
Figuring that out was really funny to me.

Seems to me to be a completely rational image to adopt for the occasion.

By the way, have you found your car keys yet?

Of course, Constance Garnett. The first translation I read of Anna Karenina was done by her. I still loved it anyway but the next one I read by Pevear and Volokhonsky was so much better. I also read War and Peace in a Norton Critical Edition translated by George Gibian. But, I liked the P & V Anna Karenina so much that I read their translation of that one as well. There is something about the flow.

I reread the story tonight and loved the character of Terenty once again. I don't know if Garnett got that description translated right but I could see the tall, skinny man with long, stork-like legs swaying in the wind but not slowed down by it. Particularly in that last paragraph, he still seems like a holy figure to me.

I get the sense that the children are supposed to be the main characters because they are changing and learning but Terenty is the one that stays with me.

Wow, it is hard to determine the translator of Chekhov's stories. I was trying to find a different one from my library. Hoopla, one of their digital sites, has many collections of his stories. I actually didn't know that he wrote so many but none of them of them list the translator in the description. I finally downloaded one that included "A Day in the Country". It doesn't even list the translator on the title page but when I started to read, it is word for word the same. So, Constance Garnett strikes again.

Constance Garnett! Of course. After I read Pevear and Volokhonsky's translation of Anna Karenina, I kinda felt sorry for old Constance.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Barb, for your determined work in identifying Chekhov's translator here. In that regard, I would like to add another name to those you have mentioned. Edith Grossman was Gabriel García Márquez's translator, and I love her work.

Edith Grossman deserves all the credit for the modern-day practice of putting the translator's name right under the author's name on the cover of the book.

Take a look at the cover of your copy of The Odyssey. There is Emily Wilson's name right under Homer's name. Edith just died late last year. The wikipedia article on her is excellent. It includes her own little commentary on the art of translation verbatim. I think you would enjoy that.

Who knew that this "wiki" approach to compiling an encyclopedia would turn out so well?

Tonya wrote: "I was just deciding on my next book from the pile,..."

Whether or not you pull A Lost Lady (a bildungsroman) from the pile is entirely up to you, Tonya. But please do get busy on Of Human Bondage as a favor to me. I look forward to your disagreements with me about that one.

Thanks, Steve! I do remember reading about Edith Grossman but had forgotten about her.
Seeing your comment about Emily Wilson gives me hope that you'll join us for the Odyssey discussion. Reading all of the praise for her translation is the reason I nominated it. I read the one translated by Robert Fagles some time ago with Classics Corner. Interested to see how this one compares.

Barb, did you for one moment doubt that I would join the discussion of The Odyssey???? Oh, ye of little faith!

I agree that the physical portrayal of Terenty is well done. I had a vivid mental image of that Ichabod Crane-like figure.

But I wish to complain more right now. There was this:

"The sparrow doesn't matter, he's bad, a spiteful bird. He is like a pickpocket in his ways. He doesn't like man to be happy. When Christ was crucified it was the sparrow brought the nails to the Jews, and called 'alive! alive!'"

Old Constance was apparently the very first to translate much of Chekhov's work into English and also the first with much of Dostoyevsky. Since she was a Brit, one would think that she was a bird person. But I would bet a hundred bucks that Chekhov's Russian word in that passage is not the word for "sparrow." That makes no sense to me, but I won't bore anyone here with my bird credentials.

I strongly suspect that Constance recognized that Russian word as having something to do with a bird other than a nightingale and said to herself, "Oh, hell. Any bird will do."

I can think of other species that would make sense in that context. Maybe Blue Jays, for example, those aggressive, thieving rascals.

With age, I've learned not to count on things but I definitely suspected that you would want to join in on The Odyssey, especially this translation. I'm reading the Introduction now. I sometimes skip those things, or read it after I finish but most of this one, so far, is helpful.

And what is a "starling-cote"?!? Everything I've found on the internet talks about a glossy coat and long beak. There is nothing about the long legs that Chekhov emphasizes in his description of Terenty. Why not a crane or something similar?

You are more determined than I, Barb. I gave up on "starling-cote" long ago.

Constance translated this story more than 100 years ago. In a gentlemanly attempt to avoid being a complete jerk about her work here, I chalked up "starling-cote" as an obsolete term that has fallen out of use now.

Starling-cote was another stumbling point, but a cote can be a birdhouse, right? So I just imagined something like the purple martin houses people down here sometimes construct--bird apartment buildings on very high poles. If you search it up there will be lots of photos.

That is good enough for me, Tonya. Thank you. So Terenty sways in the wind like one of those bird apartment houses that some folks put up high on a pole.

I was familiar with a dovecote for pigeons or doves, but why anyone would build one of them for filthy starlings, I don't know.

It looks like Pevear and Volokhonsky have worked on the stories, but best I can tell this story is not in Fifty-Two Stories. Like you, I have failed to find any other translation so far. I don't think I'll make it a quest.

When thinking of birds that steal, crows come to mind first.

I did get A Lost Lady from the library but that doesn't always mean I will get it read. I have 5 or 6 books here from the library. As far as The Odyssey goes, ugh, I it is a lot. I have found I like snippets, movies, lectures, plain English retellings, but I've always suspected that the whole shebang approach would defeat me. (And there's this weird deal, sorta crazy, that if I feel the need to do a really hard literary thing, it should be The Aenied Virgil. My grandmother named her first two children Milton and Virgil--and Virgil was my father.)

Good. Because I don't want to lose my hundred bucks.

A birdhouse on stilts! Perfect, Tonya.

Hm, filthy starlings. I don't know starlings at all. In fact I'm not terribly knowledgeable about birds generally. I know that sparrows are as common as dirt, but never heard of them associated with the crucifixion. And I don't think of a dovecote as a bird apartment on a pole, only like this: https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/5...
I expect that is because I like stuff about medieval England etc., but now I searched there are all kinds of dovecotes. But not around here. Those purple martin things are all over down here.

Steve wrote: "Good. Because I don't want to lose my hundred bucks."
Say more?

All I was saying is that if Pevear and Volokhonsky say that those birds were sparrows, then I lose my bet. I trust them.

I don't think you are reading my comments here as avidly as you usually do.

Never attribute to failure to read that which can be explained by ordinary forgetfulness.
~~~~~
I'm obviously the sucker for the internet here--I searched "bird associated with the crucifixion" and learned that swallows are credited with removing the thorns to alleviate his pain, and even The legend of the swallows and the thorns of Christ even explains the anatomy of these migratory birds. Believers contend that their backs are black in mourning for the death of the Son of God. In addition, they contend that the red spot on their chests is there from the spilled blood of Christ when the thorns were removed. And one little swallow flew and flew, until the exhausted swallow arrived at the top of a hill, where it died and was covered by the earth of the pasture. That’s the reason that this place in Navacerrada (Madrid) was christened El Cerro de la Golondrina (Hill of the Swallow). All of that from https://myanimals.com/animals/domesti...

And in many systems of folklore around Europe, the magpie does have a special and somewhat sinister connection with the crucifixion. That grows, probably, out of its parti-colored character, neither all black nor all white. Accordingly, the magpie committed the dreadful crime of failing to don proper mourning for Christ at the time of his death. In various cultures, the magpie is condemned for its failure to comfort or assist Christ. That is here: https://aleteia.org/2015/03/17/untang...

Not a sparrow to be found.

Excellent, Tonya. Thank you for that research. Obviously, I have not yet lost my bet.

More later.

Again, Tonya. Thank you. Entertaining reading.

Swallows are among my favorites. Our barn swallows are delightful company when we go down to sit in the open area under the barn to enjoy our late afternoon tea after a day of grueling labor. Their aerobatics are amazing as they soar, swoop, swerve, and barrel roll while snatching flying insects out of midair. I was gratified to read that legend assigns a heroic role to a swallow at the crucifixion of Christ.

I only know of magpies. I am not personally acquainted with any. They are not native to this region. They are most certainly native to the region in which our three characters in the story wander about.

Magpies are parti-colored as reported and are among the most intelligent birds in the kingdom. They can recognize themselves in a mirror. (I hasten to add that our little conure parrot couple, Bug and Apple, can do that as well.)

Magpies have long been notorious for their propensity to steal shiny metal objects, like pieces of jewelry, with which they decorate their nests. But it has been shone that they really have no preference. Dull metallic objects interest them every bit as much as shiny ones. Obviously, that is entirely consistent with the idea that a magpie carried the nails for use in Christ's crucifixion.

If Terenty in fact used the Russian word for "magpie," then his little rant makes some sense . . . which is what sent me flying off on this tangent in the first place.

There is also another collection of twelve Chekhov short stories translated by Pevear and Volokhonsky. This story does not appear among those either. I suspect that this one is considered by the experts to be a second or third tier Chekhov short story. That's fine. I enjoyed it as well as our discussion of it.

Now, as the sun sets in the west on this discussion, I must be off to "Big Two-Hearted River" in anticipation of next Sunday. I feel a weight of responsibility for that one since I suggested it to Barb. It may turn out to be comically ill fit for this group as the group is currently constituted. If so, c'est la vie.



Vlad the Destroyer

Glad you posted this, I'm going with it was originally a magpie, and somebody owes you $100.