In Anton Chekhov’s haunting short story Gooseberries, a rain-soaked evening in the Russian countryside becomes the backdrop for a quietly devastating tale of comfort, delusion, and moral awakening. As Ivan Ivanovitch and his companion seek shelter in a landowner’s estate, a simple conversation unfolds into a powerful monologue about happiness, privilege, and the unseen suffering that underpins contentment.
Chekhov masterfully juxtaposes the rustic idyll of country life with a piercing reflection on the ethics of retreating from the world’s troubles.
With its melancholic beauty, quiet irony, and philosophical weight, Gooseberries is a profound meditation on the illusion of peace and the price of personal fulfillment.
Narrated with eloquent sensitivity by Ian Turrell, this classic resonates more deeply than ever in an age still divided between comfort and conscience.
Dramas, such as The Seagull (1896, revised 1898), and including "A Dreary Story" (1889) of Russian writer Anton Pavlovich Chekhov, also Chekov, concern the inability of humans to communicate.
Born (Антон Павлович Чехов) in the small southern seaport of Taganrog, the son of a grocer. His grandfather, a serf, bought his own freedom and that of his three sons in 1841. He also taught to read. A cloth merchant fathered Yevgenia Morozova, his mother.
"When I think back on my childhood," Chekhov recalled, "it all seems quite gloomy to me." Tyranny of his father, religious fanaticism, and long nights in the store, open from five in the morning till midnight, shadowed his early years. He attended a school for Greek boys in Taganrog from 1867 to 1868 and then Taganrog grammar school. Bankruptcy of his father compelled the family to move to Moscow. At the age of 16 years in 1876, independent Chekhov for some time alone in his native town supported through private tutoring.
In 1879, Chekhov left grammar school and entered the university medical school at Moscow. In the school, he began to publish hundreds of short comics to support his mother, sisters and brothers. Nicholas Leikin published him at this period and owned Oskolki (splinters), the journal of Saint Petersburg. His subjected silly social situations, marital problems, and farcical encounters among husbands, wives, mistresses, and lust; even after his marriage, Chekhov, the shy author, knew not much of whims of young women.
Nenunzhaya pobeda, first novel of Chekhov, set in 1882 in Hungary, parodied the novels of the popular Mór Jókai. People also mocked ideological optimism of Jókai as a politician.
Chekhov graduated in 1884 and practiced medicine. He worked from 1885 in Peterburskaia gazeta.
In 1886, Chekhov met H.S. Suvorin, who invited him, a regular contributor, to work for Novoe vremya, the daily paper of Saint Petersburg. He gained a wide fame before 1886. He authored The Shooting Party, his second full-length novel, later translated into English. Agatha Christie used its characters and atmosphere in later her mystery novel The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. First book of Chekhov in 1886 succeeded, and he gradually committed full time. The refusal of the author to join the ranks of social critics arose the wrath of liberal and radical intelligentsia, who criticized him for dealing with serious social and moral questions but avoiding giving answers. Such leaders as Leo Tolstoy and Nikolai Leskov, however, defended him. "I'm not a liberal, or a conservative, or a gradualist, or a monk, or an indifferentist. I should like to be a free artist and that's all..." Chekhov said in 1888.
The failure of The Wood Demon, play in 1889, and problems with novel made Chekhov to withdraw from literature for a period. In 1890, he traveled across Siberia to Sakhalin, remote prison island. He conducted a detailed census of ten thousand convicts and settlers, condemned to live on that harsh island. Chekhov expected to use the results of his research for his doctoral dissertation. Hard conditions on the island probably also weakened his own physical condition. From this journey came his famous travel book.
Chekhov practiced medicine until 1892. During these years, Chechov developed his concept of the dispassionate, non-judgmental author. He outlined his program in a letter to his brother Aleksandr: "1. Absence of lengthy verbiage of political-social-economic nature; 2. total objectivity; 3. truthful descriptions of persons and objects; 4. extreme brevity; 5. audacity and originality; flee the stereotype; 6. compassion." Because he objected that the paper conducted against [a:Alfred Dreyfu
از شما مى پرسم صبر براى چه؟ بخاطر چه؟ بخاطر كه؟ چه فايده از انتظار وقتى كه دیگر نيرويى براى زنده ماندن باقى نمانده است و با وجود اين زندگی لازمست و مى خواهيم زنده باشيم و زندگی كنيم!
What is happiness? Should we cherish it? Should we strive for it? Is the contrasting feeling of unhappiness important for us to feel happy? Are we blind to others’ suffering if we savor our own happiness? Should we try to be modest? Or is modesty misguided? Will my own happiness be ruined by someone else’s even bigger and more unquestioned happiness - however simple it may seem to me? Why even judge whether others are deserving or not? Can these questions even answered if we are truly honest about them and ourselves? Is there meaning in any of this?
Gooseberries is an annoyingly simple yet complex and unbalanced story that is brilliant in how it avoids giving any simple answers even though it’s seemingly brimming with these.
I listened to it as part of George Saunders’ absolutely wonderful course on writing and literature “A Swim in a Pond in the Rain”. This is the story that the course’s title refers to.
His analysis and thoughts on it lifted it up for me.
Initially I felt that it was interesting and made me smile.
Ivan’s brother’s simple obsession with gooseberries, his lifelong abstinence from any other pleasures, and his foolish arrogance and self aggrandizement - and yet pure and genuine happiness - after he achieved his life’s goal, was moving me somehow.
Also the ensuing condescension by Ivan - and his sudden feeling of being less happy.
I liked the story already before the analysis - but its grown into something much bigger after Saunders’ brilliant treatment.
A life lesson perhaps?
At least a lesson in how to make stories that become bigger because they don’t try to fit everything into neat lesson.
this was such an uncomfortable read. because nothing really happens but everything still feels so off. off on human level. off on society level. all three stories in this are about people just trying to comfort themselves, whether it's through illusion, cruelty, or indifference. how some people can invent meaning in something insignificant just to make them feel a little less lonely, how love or connection cannot redeem anyone, it's just ephemeral. and worst is how even a morally empty person can feel complete as long as their definition of success/morality/happiness is met. they don't care who pays a price for it. these are a collection of short stories that actually have no plot, just quiet reflection on society and human morals and conundrums. my first checkhov and it was deeply unsettling for me.
This story is about Ivan Ivanovitch who talks about the story of his brother Nikolay and how he sacrifices his wife's life/health for a homestead in the countryside and gooseberry bushes (for some reason he finds childlike delight in them. It's short and sweet, talks about the divide between wealthy landowners and peasants in pre revolutionary Russia. There was an interesting part where he mentions that behind a happy, content, wealthy man is an unhappy, perhaps poverty stricken man, and that a real senses of happiness either does not exist or is an illusion covering our greater purpose. like how he also says that someone should stand with a hammer on the door front of every content man to gently remind him of his privilege and that a well fed and idle Russian gradually develops a profound self conceit, lol
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
" السعيد لا يهنأ إلا عندما يتحمل التعساء أعباءهم صامتين، ولولا هذا الصمت لباتت السعادة مستحيلة"
كانت خطبة إيفان بنهاية القصة صادقة وقوية. ولكن هل الشعور بالتعساء يجعلنا ننبذ السعادة. بالحقيقة قدم لنا تشيخوف الجواب دون أن يدركه بالكلمات ولكن بالأفعال. فشخصية إيفان التي تشعر بالبسطاء التعساء ولا تحب أي مظاهر للسعادة. هي نفس الشخصية التي تصنمت عندما شاهدت جمال خادمة أليوهين. الخادمة الرقيقة التي تتولي خدمتهم اليوم كله. وكذلك هي نفس الشخصية التي كانت مستمعة بالسباحة في البركة لدرجة جعلت نيكولاي يتذمر ويجبره علي الخروج.
قصة تبدو بسيطة وواضحة ولكنها مفعمه بالتفاصيل. التفاصيل التي يملكها تشيحوف دوناً عن أي كاتب قصة أخر.
To obtain your dreams, even at the cost of those who you’re supposed to love. What do you do when you get to the finish line and you pushed over everyone in the race? you get a lonely win at best and people screaming at worst. How you win/fail are the small moments that add up to the feeling of ‘making it’ once the journey is over.
Timeless short-story classics from the GOAT (of short story writing. This selection showcases stories with themes that could equally apply to any person, any era and any country in the world - the real genius in top-notch short-story writing.
Chekhov’s Gooseberries is a masterclass in subtle storytelling—bittersweet, reflective, and deeply human. In just a few pages, it challenges our idea of happiness and exposes the comfort of self-deception. A small story with a big soul.
It could be tempting, the idea of running away from it all, whether you are vexed or distressed by your surroundings, to a resort; a beautiful farm as Nikolai had chose, but this was something he should had taken with a grain of salt. This action, takes high level of commitment, thought and self-recognition, the things Nikolai failed to keep up with, and made brazen decisions out of boredom- which ended up hurting the people around him.
If one longs for a garden of gooseberries, one should understand its value and the want for the gooseberries, and maybe nothing more.
“Why wait, I ask you? What grounds have we for waiting? I shall be told, it can’t be done all at once; every idea takes shape in life gradually, in its due time.”
oh well good timing i was afraid to take a leap or postponing it… i don’t know anymore