Reading Chekhov: A Critical Journey

by Janet Malcolm

A perfect match of author and subject. In an effort to know one of her favorite writers better. Janet Malcolm -- who has brought light to the dark and complicated corners of psychoanalysis and has exposed the treacheries inherent within journalism--traveled to Russia and the places where Chekhov lived and worked. Out of her encounters with modern-day Russians she builds bridges backward in time to Chekhov and to the characters and ideas in his unexampled short stories and plays. The chapters are like pools of thought that coalesce into a profound, unified vision of one of Western literary culture's most important figures. For example, Chekhov's self-effacement prompts a consideration of his characters' odd un-pin-down-ability and then a discussion of limitations in writing biography.

One need not know Chekhov's writing to enjoy and be enlightened by Reading Chekhov (though anyone who does will find it doubly edifying). It is a work in which as we watch one outstanding mind try to understand another, we learn more about ourselves--our own ways of reading, thinking, and generally, what it means to be human.

Genres: Nonfiction, Travel, Biography, Russia, Literary Criticism, Criticism, Literature

212 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2001

About the author

Janet Malcolm was a journalist, biographer, collagist, and staff writer at The New Yorker. She is the author of In the Freud Archives and The Crime of Sheila McGough , as well as biographies of Gertrude Stein, Sylvia Plath, and Anton Chekhov.

The Modern Library chose her controversial book The Journalist and the Murderer — with its infamous first line — as one of the 100 best non-fiction works of the 20th century.

Her most recent book is Forty-one False Starts .

Reviews

[Steve · Rating 3 out of 5]

About mid-book I was rating this one higher, but by the end I felt Malcolm tried to do too much with such a short book. It starts out almost as a travel book, with meditations on Chekhov, where he lived, traveled, what he wrote and what he wrote about, died, etc., contrasted with present day Russia. Her guide is a difficult pensioner trying to steer Malcolm to sites she doesn't care to see. (To be honest, Malcolm struck me throughout as being something of prickly pear herself.) That interesting aspect of the book is soon virtually abandoned, as Malcolm focuses more on more on Chekhov's life and writing. I guess something had to go, but I thought the original concept was fascinating. Malcolm's close reading of Chekhov's stories and letters are fascinating and well done. For that alone I recommend the book. I was also pleased to see that she used the Garnett translations as opposed to more recent and trendier versions. She doesn't say why, though I suspect it would be my answer. There's nothing wrong Garnett. Her versions flow beautifully. Weirdly, at one point, Malcolm spends about 12 pages hashing over the various versions of Chekhov's death. She calls it one of the "great set pieces of literary history." Maybe. I wasn't blown away by it. But Malcolm's point, as it turns out, has less to do with the drama of Chekhov's death, and more to do with the role of a biographer, as she notes how subsequent biographers appear to have moved away from Olga Chekhov's original account. (And Olga herself may not have even been present when Chekhov passed away.) It gets so bad that one late biographer is caught out using a description from a Raymond Carver short story -- which itself builds around Olga's original description. I suppose it's kind of funny, but in a 200 page book, something of a belabored point that does little to sell Chekhov the writer and why we should read him. (And you should read him.) Also wrapped up in this little package are discussions of Tolstoy and Chekhov (interesting, because they admired each other), Dostoevsky and Chekhov (a waste of pages since Chekhov didn't care for D.), and the great poet Anna Akhamatova and Chekhov . That's also something of a waste, since AA didn't think much of Chekhov and his "mud-coloured world," but Malcolm's description of Akhmatova and her life is nevertheless well done. Overall, a mixed bag, but probably worth checking out if you're a fan Chekhov or modern Russian Literature.

[nastya · Rating 3 out of 5]

Part travel memoir, part notes on Chekhov's life, part critical analysis of his works and all under 210 pages.
I think I loved first two parts the best. Janet Malcolm is a very opinionated person, so it's only to be expected that you'll disagree with some of her opinions, but that part can be fun.
I just think she had too many balls in the air and the ending was too abrupt.

[William2 · Rating 3 out of 5]

Worthwhile! Very engaging.

However, I thoroughly disagree with Ms. Malcolm‘s contention, not discussed in this book, that Pevear and Volokhonsky are poor translators. They are favorites of mine, allowing me to rid myself of the lexically problematic Ms. Constance Garnett.

[Terence · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a slim volume (205 pages) for lovers of Chekhov who neither want nor need any in-depth analysis of the stories (which is not to say we get no analysis, just that it's measured and doesn't overwhelm the reader). This is Janet Malcolm's extended essay on why Chekhov is such a brilliant writer and why we should read him - often.

What I particularly like about Malcolm is that she manages to articulate why I like the man so much. Yet, having written that previous sentence just now I still can't paraphrase that articulation in a satisfying way that doesn't sound too simplistic or trite - you'll just have to read the book.

What I can say is that Chekhov manages to pack more complexity and depth in five pages than many authors struggle to do in 300 or more. It's a shame that tuberculosis took him in 1904 (though how he would have fared under the coming Soviet regime is problematic). Maybe he was "lucky."

Malcolm ties the book together with a minimalist travelogue recounting her adventures in Russia as she visited Chekhovian sites (his houses, museums, etc.) but the interest, for me, rests in her insights into Chekhov and his work, which are interesting and sometimes provocative. For example, she notes that there's a great deal of religious symbolism in Chekhov's stories (gardens and "miraculous" transformations, among others), though the author always claimed to be a nonbeliever.

If you're not yet a fan (shame on you :-), Malcolm's clear exposition and enthusiasm for her subject may just convert you.

What I "hated" about the book is that Malcolm graphically illustrated just how much Chekhov I have still to read - of the near 20 stories she mentions in the course of the book, I was familiar with fewer than five! A gross insufficiency I plan to correct as soon as possible, I assure you.

[Alwynne · Rating 5 out of 5]

An excellent overview of the life and writings of Chekhov which slowly unfolds as Janet Malcolm recounts her own travels through Russia. Her deft mingling of her personal experiences with her thoughts on Chekhov make this a particularly accessible piece. Like so much of Malcolm's work the end result is vivid, intelligent, inventive and incredibly insightful.

[Steven R. Kraaijeveld · Rating 3 out of 5]

Reading Chekhov had long been on my radar, since Chekhov is one of my absolute favorite writers and, as with all of my favorite writers, I try to collect everything written by/about him. I knew that this was not going to be a work of Literary Criticism Proper, if you will, but more of a travelogue/memoir interwoven with reflections on Chekhov's life and writing. Meaning that there probably weren't going to be any grand/new revelations about Chekhov in the book. These were my expectations—and that is exactly how the book turned out. It's pleasant to read and, at times, quite penetrating, even though the reflections are not as coherent as one would like; it's a bit of a this-andthis-andthenthis situation, loosely tied together by Janet Malcolm's itinerary from a trip to Russia and her sometimes grating observations about the financial situation, clothes, and bodily size of the people she met (and often tipped well). I found myself getting slightly impatient with these parts, which probably makes sense, given that I was reading the book for Chekhov.

Still, some parts were good and made me want to reread Chekhov's stories and plays. I particularly liked Malcolm's analysis of The Lady with the Dog as an allegory of interiority.

[Gemma · Rating 5 out of 5]

A delightful, easy read for any lover of Chekhov

[Blaine · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not a deeply insightful, comprehensive or scholarly book on Chekhov, but a good general introduction to his life and stories. Thank you Janet Malcolm for helping me make a start on this master.

[Richard Levine · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed this short book, which combines some Chekhov biography, some traditional literary criticism, and a little travel writing. Janet Malcolm structures her musings on Chekhov around journeys to Petersburg, Moscow, and Yalta in the company of three female guides, two of whom are kind and helpful while the third's a bit of a bitch. (Of course Malcolm can't help comparing them to Chekhov characters. Unpleasant, controlling Sonia, for example, Malcolm's Moscow guide, is "a dead ringer for Natasha, the crass sister-in-law in Three Sisters, who pushes her way into control of the Prozorov household and pushes out the three delicate, refined sisters.") Overall, she provides an interesting, subtle, and savvy reading of Chekhov - more impressionistic than comprehensive, but insightful all the same.

Many keen observations in this book. Early on, Malcolm quotes from a letter in which Chekhov responded to a fellow author's criticism of the the inconclusive ending to one of his stories. His critic claimed that "it is certainly the writer's job to figure out what goes on in the heart of his hero, otherwise his psychology will remain unclear." Chekhov disagreed, writing : "A psychologist should not pretend to understand what he does not understand. Moreover, a psychologist should not convey the impression that he understands what no one understands. We shall not play the charlatan and we will declare frankly that nothing is clear in this world. Only fools and charlatans know and understand everything." But immediately after quoting this and similar passages, Malcolm writes: "These modest and sensible disclaimers . . . cannot be taken at face value, of course. Chekhov understood his characters very well (he invented them, after all), and his stories are hardly deadpan journalistic narratives."

And yet, Malcolm keeps coming back to Chekhov's inconclusiveness, his reluctance to explain all we'd like to know about his characters and their fates, as the essence of his style. Towards the end of the book, she writes:

"'Life is given to us only once.' This line (or a variant) appears in story after story and is delivered so quietly and offhandedly that we almost miss its terror. Chekhov was never one to insist on anything. He didn't preach, or even teach. He is our poet of the provisional and fragmentary. When a story or play ends, nothing seems to be settled."

As the example, she then compares the ending of Chekhov's "Ward No. 6" with the ending of Tolstoy's "The Death of Ivan Ilych." Chekhov apparently loved Tolstoy, but the two authors were remarkably different. In the Tolstoy story, the author (with his typical godlike omniscence) enters his dying character's mind and describes the mystical experience that Tolstoy "confidently reports his hero to have had." By contrast, Chekhov (in his proto-modernistic manner) enters his dying character's mind, "but emerges with the most laconic and incomplete of reports" (the dying man's last, unexplained vision is of a peasant woman reaching out to hand him a registered letter).

I'm glad to have read this, as it has inspired me to go back and read some of my favorite Chekhov stories and plays, but also to dig into a few others that I hadn't read before.

[Charles · Rating 3 out of 5]

Janet Malcolm made a journey through Russia in the Yeltsin era in pursuit of a better understanding of Chekhov. This slim volume is a record of her travels and thoughts about the writer and his work. It strikes me as a book written to give a tangible purpose to a journey she wanted to make, rather than being a book for which she needed to make the journey, if you see what I mean.

Her critical analysis, which pulls together a close reading of many of the stories as well as examining the various strands of thought that critics have taken over the years, is artfully integrated with amusing tales of her guides and drivers, and encounters in post-Soviet style Russia (the maid whose room at the end of the hotel corridor is filled with a luxuriant grape vine...)

Malcolm is a wonderfully confident and unshowy prose writer, perhaps influenced by Chekhov's own advice that a writer can't do too much abridging of a first draft, even to the point he felt he'd reached sometimes, of being left with passages that read more like a cryptic summary of the original.

Chekhov loved Tolstoy, but was ambivalent about Dostoyevsky's darker world - although Malcolm argues convincingly that Dostoyevsky had a detectable influence on Chekhov's generally flatter, less full-blooded visions.

If you want a gentle introduction to Chekhov the writer, and to give yourself the desire to pick up his books, Reading Chekhov works well.

And if you want an example of how a writer can be both personal and restrained, vivid and yet utterly free of self-indulgence in travel writing, Malcolm is a wonderful model.

[Jack McClelland · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a short and dense, but nonetheless flowing portrait of Chekhov through his life and literature. This book has some strong insights on the ethics and problems of biography and memoir, which we can naturally expect from Malcolm, as well as some astute and relevant observations on the genre of travelogue, but it also demonstrates a wide and thorough admiration of the writer she has chosen to study. I was impressed by her ability to put on the hat of a literary scholar so gracefully and unpretentiously, and there is, as always, so much packed into her writing that one inevitably anticipates putting this book on the shelf to revisit in 5 or 10 or however many years, to recall something wise and learn something new.

[Bill · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was an excellent read --- a nice mixture of travelogue and literary criticism. Now it makes me want to read Chekhov's letters, and short stories (I just finished reading Three Sisters).

[S · Rating 4 out of 5]

Malcolm has a wonderful way of following both the stories and the man; I enjoyed her exploration of Chekhov. But a couple of things bother me.

Although she devotes most of Ch. 5 to the mystery of his faith, I think his faith is hard to miss. Not so mysterious. That's the big thing that bothers me. The second thing that bothers me, an error in Malcolm's description of the final passage of Chekhov's "The Murder," brings up a perfect example. "The Murder" is a big clue to Chekhov's faith.

Matvei, main character, and his cousins who end up in prison for his murder, are especially contrasted to depict Chekhov's beliefs. He clearly favors the joyful faith of Matvei and takes pains to depict a twisted, joyless faith -- if you want to call it that -- in Yakov and Aglaia, who bash his head with a bottle of oil because he consumes oil during Lent. Well, they bash his head with the bottle because -- not exactly because Matvei permits himself Lenten oil on his potatoes, but because they are crazed by their religious pride, which Matvei is simple and sincere enough to point out to them. The whole story is absolutely shining with the answer to Malcolm's and her quoted critics' mystery: Does Chekhov believe?

Yes, he believes. The whole story is about believers, how faith affects people; how hard it is to not substitute human pride for humble worship. Matvei is even a martyr, for Christ's sake (I mean that literally)! It's pretty explicit.

As for the little factual detail that bothered me: Malcolm says the final four pages of the story depict the suffering of the prisoners who are loading coal onto a steamer in the stormy night; but they don't. They are brought to the mine but they don't load the steamer!! Loading cancelled by storm. Really what Chekhov is depicting in this final scene is cousin Yakov's religious conversion pretty much. His suffering is about faith, as much as it is about imprisonment.

[Literary Multitudes · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this in a way to attune myself to my upcoming research for a presentation and a paper about Chekhov, and as such it was a very pleasant read.
Malcolm has written a very jaunty book, a quick and easy literary biography that doesn't stay at the surface. Her analysis of Chekhovs work is well researched, but not dragging.
While reading the book gave me a lot of starting points for more research about Chekhov. What Malcolm brings to the attention several times, and what I think is very true about Chekhov, is that you have read Chekhov with much more diligence, than any other writer, probably. There is information in every detail, behind every sentence there is more meaning (or more questions), not one word is in his texts without reason and this complicated web of details and things that only live through conclusions from what actually is in the text, comes to life more and more, with each reading of Chekhov's work.

However, in her book I especially enjoyed the actual accounts of Malcolms travels through Russia, I wish there would have been more of that in the book. She takes you right along with her on the train, to the hotel in Yalta, her visits to Moscow and Petersburg. It's nice to get to know her tour guides and whoever she meets on her journey through her eyes (you don't have to agree with her, but it's a eloquent point of view).

So to sum it up I'd say this short book is a good introduction to Chekhov and his work (if not a perfect portrait of the writer - but that can't exist anyway), on the other hand, however, if one isn't familiar with most of Chekhovs work there are a lot of "spoilers" about the stories in the book, things that you might have wanted to discover yourself before reading this introduction.

[Eric · Rating 3 out of 5]

As a Chekhov fan, I enjoy reading clues into the author’s personal life. The highlight of this work is the two letters he writes to his brothers, one of which outlines the path to living as a person of culture; and the other explaining why he should not sit around his house in Oblomovian fashion. While I cannot recommend Reading Chekhov ahead of reading Chekhov (out of my system), I think Janet Malcolm’s astute observations are a worthy supplement to the Chekhovian works.
I was taken aback by some of the back story to The Steppe, which I recall as the most dry of his short novels. Chekhov struggled with it for being far too original. Malcolm explains her reluctance to delve into biographical evidence by examining Chekhov’s numerous biographers’ treatment of his death. Most, including his wife Olga, portray him dying in Olga’s arms, acknowledging champagne, inquiring about a Russian soldier in Japan and then announcing his death in German (Ich sterbe). Then, there is the Magarshack job that takes from a Raymond Carver short story about his death, and that one proves to be precedent setting for future Chekhov biographers. The lesson, it’s very difficult to accurately chronicle Chekhov’s life and we are better suited to read and admire his work.
I have no further doubts as to why Magarshack’s name is not to be spoken in a certain West Philly house.

[Juan Medina · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Traté de tranquilizarme, de superar mi mezquina obsesión por la pérdida de unas prendas, y con ese fin invoqué a Chéjov y ese sentido de lo que es importante en la vida que con tanta fuerza se desprende de su obra…

«La vida sólo se concede una vez, y hay que vivirla con valentía, con plena conciencia, disfrutando de su belleza», dice el narrador tísico de El relato de un desconocido… Esa frase (o una variante) aparece relato tras relato y es pronunciada de forma tan serena y despreocupada que casi no paramos mientes en su horror. Chéjov nunca insistía en nada. No predicaba, ni siquiera enseñaba. Es nuestro poeta de lo provisional y lo fragmentario…

Chéjov sólo vivió cuarenta y cuatro años, y durante el último tercio de su vida fue plenamente consciente de la probabilidad de una muerte prematura. Los que no vivimos bajo una sentencia de muerte tan explícita no podemos saber lo que eso significa. Las obras maestras de Chéjov nos lo cuentan siempre de manera indirecta." JM

[Jim · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have always loved Chekhov's work, even his Letters from Sakhalin and his notebooks. Janet Malcolm's little book is a very readable and at times perspicacious look at a deceptively subtle writer. The one thing I found somewhat discordant is the character of Janet Malcolm herself. When one inserts one's own experiences into a book like this, one is also introducing oneself as one of the characters. I felt ambivalent about Malcolm, feeling that she had little real understanding of Russia and Russians -- and yet a deep understanding of Chekhov. Still, I would venture to predict that I probably enjoyed this book far more than any biography of Chekhov. Like Malcolm, he played his life close to the vest, marrying late in life and only when his tuberculosis was casting a shadow over his later years.

[Ed · Rating 4 out of 5]

At one level this book is a account of Malcolm's 'Chekhov Tour' of Russia. Being Malcolm she has insightful and often acid things to say about the places she visits and the people she meets. Each of the thirteen chapters looks at Chekhov from a different angle. She only discusses a few of Chekhov's writings but also discusses some of his letters, the letters of others and the opinions of various Chekhov critics. Chekhov is not a autobiographical writer and seems somewhat distant from his stories. I have been wondering about what kind of person he was, but not wanting to read a formal biography. Malcolm seems to have had the same curiosity and her book gave me a greater sense of knowing him.

[Myriam · Rating 4 out of 5]

'There is always this amazing movement in Chekhov from the difficult to the simple and beautiful. (...)
"Life is given to us only once." The line (or a variant) appears in story after story and is delivered so quietly and offhandedly that we almost miss its terror. Chekhov was never one to insist on anything. He didn't preach, or even teach. He is our poet of the provisional and fragmentary. When a story or play ends, nothing seems to be settled.'

[Greta Gilbertson · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting for me as I knew little about Chekhov. (Even how to spell his name). Malcolm writes about him while visiting Russia so she can add another dimension or layer to her discussion. This book presents Chechov and his work as enigmatic but compelling. Malcolm tries to explain how the grandson of a serf became one of Russia's most famous writers.

[Beth & Jared · Rating 3 out of 5]

I can't help it: Janet Malcom's ego really gets in the way of enjoying her prose. I eagerly jumped from Chekhov passage to Chekhov passage, attempting to skip over her snarky assessment of her Russian help. --b

[Trevor Seigler · Rating 4 out of 5]

Anton Chekov's status as a playwright and short-story writer is such that, even if you've never read any of his work, you've surely heard him mentioned or cited by your favorite authors or literary critics. I say that as someone who, while surely stumbling across a story or two of his in various anthologies, has never actually sat down to read what Chekov wrote. Russian literature has never really been my thing, but I tackled "Crime and Punishment" last year and, while not looking to do so for this year's reading challenge (already behind in my pace as I am), I would like to attempt "War and Peace" soon. But in Janet Malcolm, I have an astute guide to Chekov's world and his work.

"Reading Chekov: A Critical Journey" is a document of Malcolm's own journey to Russia sometime in the late 90's to re-trace the vanishing world of Chekov and his literary creations as they navigated the pre-Revolution world of Tsarist Russia. Chekov, a doctor who ultimately died of tuberculosis, was an astute judge of human behavior. Malcolm points to the many works that he produced during his short life (he died at the age of forty-four in 1904), with generous citations from both the plays and the stories. Chekov was a man who wrote what felt truthful to him, and that is what still resonates with readers today, according to Malcolm.

As I said, I've never actually sat down and read anything by Chekov. But in the best tradition of literary criticism, Malcolm's insights make me want to give him a try. And I may try to find more of Janet Malcolm's own work and read it as well, because she proves to be an engaging presence on the page in her own right. Her journey through St. Petersburg (which she and Chekov both find cold and uninviting), Moscow (where she tries to convince her tour guide that the "official museums" of antiques hold no appeal to her), and Yalta (where Chekov went to seek some comfort in his last days), is a nice touch in itself, which gives us as readers a more concrete sense of the world that Chekov inhabited during his lifetime.

"Reading Chekov" may or may not inspire you to do your own reading of his work, but it will highlight the ways in which that collection of literature could speak across the centuries to the world of today. Janet Malcolm provides a wonderful guided tour of the work and of the man, making the reader aware of the many ways in which Chekov continues to resonate.

[Dean · Rating 4 out of 5]

Criticism - like poetry - is a genre where the difference between good and bad work is vast, that is to say, both are extremely difficult to do well, and yet so many people want to be a critic or a poet. The evidence is right here on this website, rife with screeds of vaporous opinions (🙋🏼‍♂️) and library stacks of terrible poetry. Thankfully, Janet Malcolm is a journalist, not a critic. In fact, I think both professional critics and journalists could gain a lot by learning a little bit from each other. In this short book on Chekhov, we get the expected analysis and appreciation of the writer’s genius, but we also get a travelogue/report of sorts on the state of late 90s Russia and Chekhov’s place in it. The near-century between his untimely death and the publication of this book might as well have been a millennium; even the most prodigious literary genius could never have imagined the reoccurring nightmares that washed over the writer’s country in the mere 100 years since he had fallen into that “eternal sleep” as he calls it in his “Lady with the Little Dog”. To consider Chekhov (or any author) and ignore this afterlife is a disservice, and I’m glad Malcolm took the time to turn her keen eye to contemporary issues too. Thea e parts of the book really drove home in my mind the fact that Chekhov was *russian*; it might sound silly, but his stories don’t drip with the same Russianness (and obsession over what such a word even means) as Dostoyevsky’s do, for instance.

This is the first book I’ve read by Malcolm, and I can see why she has the reputation she does. This book is pure pleasure to read, deftly written and clearly based on tons of genuine interest in and experience with Chekhov’s work. Malcolm never feels the need to baste this book with all the little facts and details she must have come across in her time preparing for the book, but most every page has some subtle connection between different aspects of Chekhov’s work and life that form one of the finest portraits of a long dead author that I’ve ever come across. I don’t always agree with her interpretations of the stories and plays (who the hell am I anyway) but I always found Malcolm’s analysis compelling and fun to read - something which can’t be said for most works with “critical” in the title.

[Diana · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reading Chekhov is Janet Malcolm's travel diary/ Chekhov literary analysis. Malcolm writes in a wonderfully easy way and effortlessly incorporates her own travel experiences with her thoughts on Chekhov's life and writing. She describes Chekhov as a writer who when you utter his name in Russia ' people arrange their features as if a baby deer had come into the room.' and her Moscow guide exclaims, "he is not a Russian writer. He is a writer for all of humanity!" Malcolm goes on to describe Chekhov's personality and life through his writings - she also describes her various guides, often in quite a funny way.

I love her description of her train ride from St. Petersburg to Moscow "I looked out the window at a rain-drenched landscape of birches and evergreens and occasionally glanced at the fat young man who lay sleeping on the seat opposite, less than two feet away. He slept for almost the entire five-hour journey, waking only to eat a meal brought by a woman attendant. As he ate, he did not once meet my gaze, and I had the feeling that his long sleep was in part or perhaps even wholly induced by a profound, helpless bashfulness."

She makes the interesting observation that Chekhov hated to be cold and loved to be warm, but he knew that the payoff was in the cold and this is why he went to see Sakhalin a prison colony of the Russian Empire. I think this need for 'cold' is true for many people who are able to live a relatively stress free life and perhaps it is why we challenge ourselves with feats of physical endurance. You can enjoy the warmth only when you have been in the cold.

One of the most interesting bits involves the story surrounding Chekhov's death and how it is described differently by different people. Amazingly Philip Callow lifts much of what he writes in his biography of Chekhov from a piece of historical fiction by Raymond Carver. This makes me suspicious of every biography I read now!

I loved the way Malcolm wrote and I will seek out some of her other books even if the subject isn't necessarily of interest.

[Adam Ferrell · Rating 5 out of 5]

I sometimes find myself wanting to read the works of a classic author, and to learn about their life, and also to understand their works from a critical standpoint. Usually that requires reading three books but Reading Chekhov: A Critical Journey accomplishes this tripartite goal in a slim, somewhat somber travelogue. It doesn't do them all equal justice but it presages in a very pleasant way George Saunders' A Swim in a Pond in the Rain: In Which Four Russians Give a Master Class on Writing, Reading, and Life by quoting lengthy passages and holding them up to a critical light.
This isn't a 5 star book by most measures but I am obliged to give it full credit because it feels like it was written just for me: a fan of Russian literature who has curiosity about where to place Chekhov's works into the context of his life but doesn't want to become an expert on the subject.
It doesn't hurt that I read it on a cloudy beach vacation, enveloped in fog.

[Maricruz Lozano · Rating 5 out of 5]

Este es mi escritor favorito, uno de los cuales más me inspiran al momento de escribir y del cual sabía muy poco acerca de él. Me parece un libro muy interesante donde en un viaje en busca de los lugares más importantes en la vida del escritor intercalando con pequeños análisis de la obra y siendo una especie de complemento la cartas del escritor con quienes se relaciono dejando ver una pequeña parte de facetas que desconocía del autor y que al final del libro pude concluir que esas son pequeños vistazos pues es un autor que intenta con existo mantener su privacidad incluso con su obra.
Me encanto, fue un libro que me provoco mucho confort así como la lectura de los cuentos de Chevoj me provocaba a mi

[Andrew · Rating 5 out of 5]

After reading this whimsical, insightful book, I am now curious to read Chekhov.

Ms. Malcolm uses a present day (2005) trip to Russia to connect modern Russians with the life of Chekhov and his contemporaries, real and fictional.

Her observations, personal, grand, small, tie the book together, whether she is slumming at a Black Sea resort where the rooms are grungy and the restaurant empty, or recalling her conversations with rude and abrupt tour guides who tell her what sights they want her to see, and grumble when she goes somewhere else. She has a caustic and clear-eyed perception of Russia's departed glories, from its museums to its royal palaces and forgotten cemeteries.

[Adam Auriemma · Rating 4 out of 5]

This isn’t a Janet masterpiece, but her baseline is HIGH y’all.

Sometimes the travelogue conceit feels forced, like she is trying too hard to tie each Chekhovian insight to a specific moment in her journey through his Russia. However the approach also lays bare the fundamental delight of Janet Malcolm which is that she is just totally Freudian and basically free-associates her way to critical brilliance. It helps when you are impossibly cultured like she is so all your random allusions are stunningly high-brow.

Jess, this is still good inspo for Platherbury and I hope my morning pages look like this

[Richard]

This book proved to be a wonderful companion to reading Chekhov's work, in particular his short stories. It has also inspired me to collect more of his short stories and re-read (or watch if I can find them) his plays. There are some interesting insights into Checkhov and his history along with some features of the Russian landscape that provided a back drop for the short stories. I would also recommend an essay written by Francine Prose called "Learning from Chekhov" about lessons she learned teaching creative writing and using Chekhov as a model for writing stories.

[Scott Bielinski · Rating 3 out of 5]

An inconsistently interesting book on an exceptionally engrossing man and writer. I appreciated a few of her insights on Chekhov's relationship with Dostoevsky, as well as her varied discussions on religion in his short stories. Malcolm is a close reader of Chekhov, to be sure. However, I didn't love how she went about discussing him. Though the travelogue aspect of the book was stylized as a way into Chekhov (and avoiding the vices of biography as a genre), I found it unnecessary and stultifying.