The Fiancee and Other Stories

by Anton Chekhov, Ronald Wilks (Translator)

The diversity of stories in this collection is great, their psychological depth and philosophical richness even greater. Chekhov (1860-1904) composed most of the stories in the 1890s, although 'The Fiancee,' written at the same time as his dramatic masterpiece, iThe Cherry Orchard,/i was not completed until 1903; 'The Fiancee' represents a turning point in Chekhov's career, with the high note of optimism and with its heroine, Nadya, 'a positive woman of action,' who ultimately rejects philistine materialism for a life of hard work and self-denial.
pThe fluency and intelligence of Ronald Wilks's English prose provide an ideal vehicle for the range of Chekhov's stories. Whether he is dealing with the themes of greed and exploitation in 'a suburban muscovite Hamlet' ('Three Year') or treating us to a fast-moving story of murder and adultery ('Peasant Women'), Chekhov invariably brings to the short story a sharp, humorous focus on human moods, manners and emotions.

The fiancée --
On official business --
Rothschild's fiddle --
Peasant women --
Three years --
With friends --
The bet --
New villa --
At a country house --
Beauties --
His wife --
The student.

Genres: Fiction, Short Stories, Russia, Classics, Russian Literature

240 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published August 5, 1986

About the author

Antón Chéjov (Spanish)

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

Reviews

[notgettingenough]

Suppose you manage to escape from an attic in which you've been locked up and forced to read all of Harry P., bare footed you escape one night in no more than your pjs. You flag down a car, explain your predicament, and they lock you up in an attic and make you read Twilight a hundred times.

This makes it look like you were so much better before, so why did you do this thing when you should have stayed where you were. But this is looking at it all backwards. You were in a terrible situation and you escaped. What happened next is not relevant to the evaluation of that act. It's the same with Tsarist and Bolshevik Russia. You can't look backwards arguing that what they had before was so much better. What they had was fucking appalling. They had to escape. The rest is another story altogether.

Chekhov does a brilliant job of setting out what a hellhole of shit Tsarist Russia was. I urge anybody who is inclined down the fatuous path of reasoning that it was better than what came later to read what it was actually like. You won't get a better rendition.

-------------------------

Gee whiz. If this is Chekhov being an optimistic I'd hate to see him on a bad hair day.

The goodreads lament, straight from the man:

As if it were ordained by fate, he would always start gently, kindly, with every good intention, calling himself an old university student, an idealist, a Don Quixote. [tick] But then, without even realizing it, he would suddenly resort to abuse and slander. [tick] Most amazing of all, he would criticise the arts, science and morality, in all sincerity, although it was twenty years since he had last read a book or travelled further than the main town in the district, and he really didn't have any idea of what was going on out in the wide world. [tick] If he sat down to write something, even a letter of congratulation, that too would turn out abusive. All this was most peculiar, as he was in fact a sensitive man [as he thinks to himself], easily moved to tears....[tick. Shit this is sounding so familiar]

He had a nightmare in which he was standing in the middle of a room, naked and tall as a giraffe, poking his finger out and saying, 'Right in their fat mugs. Let them have it right in their fat ugly mugs!'....[Hey, that's my dream]

[The next day]

He lay on the couch in his study, then sat at his desk and began to write his daughters a letter. His hand shook and his eyes itched. He wrote that he was old now, unwanted and unloved, and he asked his daughters to forget him and, when he died, to bury him in a simple pine coffin, without any fuss, or to send his body to the dissecting theatre at Kharkov. He felt that every line breathed malice and play-acting, but he couldn't stop and kept writing, writing...

I'm going to stop right there.

Except that I just have to say some really interesting things about the US debt crisis and the translation of Norwegian into Guugu Yimithir, and may I pontificate on the short comings of the Two Fat Ladies' rendition of Scotch Eggs and -

Stop it.

STOP IT.

I can't. My fingers -

Thinks back to Jules and Jim review.

I wonder if writing is a substitute for onanism?

Well. Interesting that you ask. In my opinion -

Argghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I can't ssttttttttttoooooooooop-

[Lewis Woolston]

If someone came to me and told me they wanted to learn to write short stories i'd probably tell them to go away and read the entire collected stories of Chekhov, the entire collected stores of W. Somerset Maugham and maybe some Maupassant and Richard Yates. That, in my opinion, would teach them everything there is to know about the art of the short story.
If you haven't read Chekhov you really should, the man was a master of his craft and i don't think he really ever wrote a bad short story.

[Stephen Howell]

So many excellently written stories again here, my favourites were The Fiancée, Rothschilds Fiddle, Three Years, The Bet, His Wife and The Student. Just bought another small collection of Chekhov, I cannot get enough….

[Marie-Lynn Issa]

Not the tastiest treat I've had. I expected it to be prime Russian lit but it wasn't. It's not bad, don't get me wrong, most short stories were actually interesting and fun to read. I know that short fiction isn't supposed to be meaningful or philosophical in any way but it still saddens me to think that some of these short stories were boring, pointless, and a waste of time.

[Literati]

Very good collection of stories- except the main novella felt increasingly repetitive and devoid of the vivacity and wit that has made everything else I have read by Chekhov a joy.

[Kumari de Silva]

This book made me feel very nostalgic. During high school I read Tolstoy, Gogol, Dostoyevsky. In college I read Nietzsche but for some reason, even though I was familiar with the name, I never read Chekhov. I thought he was only a playwright and I find novels and short stories easier to read than plays. . . . Anyway, I digress, presently I find this book in a used book store. Reading it made me feel calm, soothed and able to time travel into his (Chekhov's) past. Yes, the writing is that good. It seats the reader in a reality that has NO screen time. People make time to visit, converse, listen to (live) music, etc. Ah, those were the days.

Oh course all kinds of depressing things also happen. You can't enjoy Russian literature if you aren't willing to put up with Russian soulfulness and solitude and tragedy on both large and small scale. If you are willing to see beauty in suffering you will be touched. If you like dark comedy you will laugh. If you can't muster either, forget about it - this is not the book for you.

The Fiancee' is described by the editor as Chekhov's most optimistic story. Ouch! I didn't see this story as optimistic at all. Perhaps this is all relative. Czarist Russia is not a particularly optimistic place. But really, I found the titular character self-absorbed. I was not at all convinced that her new future (which dooms her mother and grandmother by the way) would be any better than the future they had planned for her. Not better just different, the clue is in how detached she feels to her poor relative, the one who kindly convinces her to jump ship. What kind of a person is so detached? A narcissist I tell ya.

The story I liked best was "Three Years." Perhaps anyone who has been married can relate? I found this story to be subtle and sweet and reminiscent of Tolstoi. "With Friends" was darkly funny. And the "New Villa" might have been written yesterday for the way people are. I moved to an old rural community about 25 years ago and I am quite sure the locals still perversely perceive me as a "stranger." The story made me laugh for that, although I think it's meant to be more sad than funny. I find all of the stories in this collection remarkably fresh and timeless. Perhaps if you are under the age of 50 you will be annoyed/confused/surprised no one looks at TV or checks their smart phone but if you are old enough to remember the 1970s these stories will read like something that could have happened yesterday, not a century ago.

[Amber]

I randomly grabbed this book while in LA at the Last Bookstore (go if you can, it’s amazing!) and thought I’d see what Chekhov is all about. Well, that was a rather depressing endeavor.

I felt that Chekhov did a great job of showing how horrible life can be. Many of the characters were pathetic; their personality, financially, or situationally. My favorite example of this was in *With Friends.*

Another great story was *Rothschild’s Fiddle,* jeez what a depressing piece of work.

*The Fiancée,* the namesake of this collection was well written and enjoyable. I felt that it gave a good taste of the mood the rest of the stories encompass and was a thoughtful look at major changes in someone’s life and how that can mold a person.

As a side note, to bring up the mood, it’s good to be reminded that Chekhov was born to a former serf and died at age 44 of consumption.

[Carmine Spagnoletti]

This was my first time reading Anton Chekhov — a total accident, really. I picked up this Penguin Classics edition in a second-hand bookstore, and I’m so glad I did. His stories are so real, so human. They touch on everything — love, regret, guilt, indifference — all the emotional layers of life, but done with such understated brilliance.

Chekhov has this way of describing people and places that puts you right there beside them. The characters aren’t exaggerated; they’re just quietly flawed, ordinary people caught in small but significant moments.

The ones that really stood out for me were:
• Unofficial Business
• Three Years
• With Friends
• The Bet
• His Wife

Each of these left something with me — a mood, a thought, a quiet ache. I can’t wait to read more of his work

[S. Suresh]

This is a thought-provoking collection of 12 Anton Chekhov stories, all of them set in pre-revolution Russia. The only story that borders on the short novella genre is Three Years; all other stories are short, crisp and yet, surprisingly, vivid. Chekhov makes us reflect on life, death, friendship, marriage, love, hatred, capitalism, serfdom, servitude, freedom, and so much more in this collection. Chekhov’s writing style packs evocative realism, and forces us to reflect on human nature, without telling the reader everything.

[Jade Vesna]

There's something mindlessly pleasant about this collection.
Ranking my enjoyment:
The Bet (8/10)
On Official Business (7/10)
Rothschild's Fiddle (7/10)
New Villa (6/10)
Beauties (6/10)
The Fiancée (6/10)
The Student (6/10)
Three Years (5/10)
Peasant Women (5/10)
His Wife (5/10)
At a Country House (4/10)
With Friends (4/10)

[Zuly]

Vivid characters and setting established immediately; character in conflict is almost palpable, as are the inner thoughts of major players. Chekhov is always stunning; amazing that so much is given to the reader in so few pages. Will try to read all of his stories.

[Tom Gray]

Great collection of short stories. They’re mostly quite sad but some are a bit more thought provoking than sad. Some of the short stories are pretty long but I ain’t gonna hold that against Chekov.

Personal favourites were The Bet, The Fiancée and Three Years

[Antonio De Cunzo]

An excellent collection of short stories.

[Toby]

This is extraordinary stuff. The best.

[Adam]

A lot of these boil down to "I saw a poor person and my life changed"

[Alexandra]

3.5**

[Mathieu]

4.25

[Mark]

Rated 3.5 in my own list. Low key and sad stories for the most part. I’ve enjoyed mother’s if his more, but that could be timing and personal state/mood.

[r0mAiSs4]

I think I'll need some time before putting a full thoughtful review.

[Richard]

All kowtowances belong to Chekhov, though the longer piece in here, "Three Years," just didn't float my boat and had me checking its length often while I read. Anton's bare-faced unpleasantries about people are always a joy to read.

[Ann]

Despite my high expectations, these short stories don't move me. I admire the writing, but found it hard to continue. Three Years seemed to take me that long to finish and then I wondered why I had bothered. I don't seem to appreciate great literature.