Teatro. Il gabbiano-Il giardino dei ciliegi-Zio Vania-Tre sorelle

by Anton Chekhov, Gerardo Guerrieri (Editor)

"Il gabbiano", "Zio Vanja", "Tre sorelle", "Il giardino dei ciliegi": i quattro drammi di Cechov raccolti in questo volume, scritti tra il 1895 e il 1904, stupiscono per la loro modernità. Più che l'intreccio, in questi testi contano infatti le passioni e le emozioni vissute nell'interiorità di personaggi che sembrano preda di un sortilegio di estraniazione, totalmente incapaci di comunicare. Il teatro cechoviano anticipa insomma i motivi fondamentali dell'intera drammaturgia novecentesca: la crisi esistenziale dell'uomo, la perdita dei valori tradizionali, il rimpianto per un passato inattingibile, l'attesa di qualcosa di indefinito, l'allusione a ciò che è ineluttabilmente accaduto, il vuoto, il silenzio.

Genres: Plays, Classics, Drama, Fiction, Russia, Russian Literature, Theatre

390 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1904

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

[Jan-Maat]

This edition has a good, thorough, introduction as well as a very useful note on the translation. As Frayn puts it in the note on the translation knowing Russian and being a playwright is an advantage in translating Chekhov's plays, and who would have thought that - an amazing idea.

Reading the plays for the first time in many years, the irony comes through very strongly, but maybe that's just one of the strengths of this translation which, in British English at least, comes across as easy and natural sounding.

A difficulty in translating Chekhov, which Frayn explains very well in his note on the translation, is dealing with the politics of Imperial Russia, particularly with those student characters who have been kicked out or sent down for some kind of political offence or other. These kind of difficulties are perhaps, happily, insurmountable. The experience is too alien from our political reality.

But perhaps without that political edge one is left only with the droll amusement of characters at rest and who don't work idolising the engagement and process of work which is crushing, absorbing and chewing up the other characters who can only dream of rest. Life goes on.

[James · Rating 4 out of 5]

*Only read Uncle Vanya, in advance of seeing the current Broadway production starring Steve Carell, and my rating is meant for that play (as read, not performed)

[*ೃnaziba ˘͈ᵕ˘͈ · Rating 4 out of 5]

These were some seriously iconic plays, but I feel like a lot of Chekhov’s work (at least in this collection) feels repetitive and pedantic to me.

My ranking-
1. Uncle Vanya (had me clutching my pearls fr)
2. The Cherry Orchard
3. Three Sisters
4. The Seagull

[Paula Fialho Silva · Rating 5 out of 5]

O meu interesse pela história da Rússia complementa-se com todas as obras que fazem parte da sua literatura. Com as peças de Tchekhov "viajei" ao século XIX e conheci um pouco mais da vida fora das grandes cidades, Moscovo e São Petersburgo. Que grande retrato da alma russa e da sociedade rural!

[Mary Slowik · Rating 4 out of 5]

December of Drama 2015, days 28-31

Let's tackle these one by one.

Seagull

"You feared a lonely death
Like a lake leaves you alone in her depths."
--bodyache, by Purity Ring

So a lot of admirers of Chekhov praise him for his success in "direct" and "honest" drama, and his instigation of a new era or new forms in drama, and I'd agree with all that. But I think what's lost in the conversation is the content, the ideas he incorporated in the plays themselves. There is a personally resonant kind of pessimism that lurks between the lines, or comes right out in the open, and yes he probably owed a lot of this to Schopenhauer but all the same it seems to have been proved out by time. In some lines (see Cherry Orchard, below) he seems to bemoan the destruction of the environment, but in others he seems to long for the day when life has been extirpated from the earth and silence reigns. Hear, hear.

Uncle Vanya

"I feel guilty being alive
While so many beautiful people have died
I never thought that we wouldn't rule the world
I always think we will I keep my fist clenched still."
--Confetti, by Cold Cave

In Seagull, you have the case of Chekhov's Gun being used to successfully end a life. Here, it just goes off, and the person apparently misses. And as the introduction attributes a quote to a Russian director: "Uncle Vanya is an American play," because you have a family gathering for the holidays, bickering, a gunshot, then everyone going off more or less reconciled. It also follows a pattern that emerges in these four "major" plays, in that some kind of violence punctuates the drama in the final act. This isn't revolutionary of course, and I know that some others call Chekhov's stuff boring or depressing, but if you know what to look for there's a definite tension the whole time, steadily rising until the climax. I happen to really enjoy his plays, I've discovered-- their style, structure, and content.

Three Sisters

"Home, is where I want to be
But I guess I'm already there."
--This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody), by Talking Heads

Olga, Masha and Irina. There, see, I can name them! Aside from that, this play didn't leave too much of an impression, although I could recognize that the "violent climax" pattern repeated in the form of an out-of-control fire, and also a duel that kills off a potential suitor, who was going to sweep one of the sisters away and provide some direction to her life. All of the sisters seem to be struggling with that, an aimlessness or insecurity about their choices.

Cherry Orchard

"Don't look ahead, there's stormy weather
Another roadblock in our way
But if we go, we go together
Our hands are tied here if we stay."
--Disparate Youth, by Santigold

This one affects me the most. I'm fairly sure I read it before, because the revelation (and the resolution) at the end seemed very familiar. I can picture Russian audiences in tears at the end, because even I come close to that. It dramatizes a pain we've all experienced, and captures perfectly both the dread and joy in letting go of something. In other words, it's really about the power of time, its dual capacity to destroy and renew. Every day we are losing something we can never regain. If the final act of this doesn't affect you, your heart is probably made of stone.

Final thoughts:
Chekhov is great. He created drama out of true-to-life moments, only to occasionally pull the veil and address those unspoken truths that lie beneath. And this edition is brilliant, for the positioning of the plays themselves, as well as the notes. I can't speak to the quality of the translation but I'd recommend this volume to anyone into Russian literature.

[Vítor Leal · Rating 5 out of 5]

Pese o contexto social, político e militar russo, não faço qualquer embargo à literatura e a outras formas de arte. Desde que, há largos anos, comecei a ler Dostoievski e Tolstoi, senti que esse era o começo de um caminho a percorrer. Descobrir a literatura russa. Que um país mergulhado em contrastes, tão vasto e onde cabem múltiplos fusos horários, onde o inverno é rigoroso e as estepes são agradáveis no verão, produziu abundante literatura. Que prazer foi ler as peças de teatro de Tchékhov. Imaginá-las representadas num teatro Bolshoi. Dele vou ler mais. Pushkin e Gogol serão os próximos.

______

O ginjal

Segundo acto

"Charlotta (pensativa) - Não tenho um passaporte verdadeiro e não sei a idade minha, tenho sempre a sensação que sou novinha. Quando era miúda pequena, o meu pai e a minha mãe andavam pelas feiras e davam espectáculos, muito bons espectáculos. E eu fazia o salto mortale e uma completa série de truques. Quando paizinho e mãezinha morreram, uma senhora alemã tomou conta de mim e começou a ensinar-me. Tudo bem. Cresci, fui trabalhar como preceptora. Mas não sei quem sou nem donde... Quem são os meus pais, talvez nem fossem casados... não sei (tira do bolso um pepino e come). Não sei nada."

[Lavinia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Livada de visini ****
* Mi s-a parut cea mai sensibila, poate pentru ca sentimentul pierderii e aici foarte evident si puternic: livada de visini e vinduta in cele din urma si intreaga familie e privata de locul cel mai drag lor, pierderea livezii putind echivala cu pierderea sperantelor, desi in final Trofimov exclama: “Viata noua, te salutam!” Sau poate, intr-un ton mult mai mundan, pierderea livezii echivaleaza cu noua ordine sociala ce se instala in Rusia vremii respective.


Trei surori ****
* O piesa densa si complexa, cu multe teme si idei recurente, de-alungul ei: dragostea, munca (obsesiv, la Irina), moartea, Moscova (aspiratia catre o viata potrivita nivelului lor de educatie), trecut-prezent (ce bine era, ce rau ne este).
* Cu siguranta una din piesele pe care le intelegi pe deplin (sau macar mai bine) doar vazindu-le pe scena.
* Excelenta portretizare a celor 3 surori, plus Natasha the bitch.
* Foarte de apreciat capacitatea lui Cehov de a transforma micile drame domestice in mari piese (cum sint considerate cele 4), desi nu pretind ca as fi inteles mai tot din ce a vrut piesa / piesele sa spuna. Din fericire, in general, teatrul lasa loc pentru multiple interpretari, asa ca am o portita de scapare.


Unchiul Vanea ***
* Viata la tara in Rusia, asa cum mi-am imaginat-o de pe vremea cind citeam Nabokov, "Vorbeste memorie", strabatuta de o puternica melancolie.
* Relatie destul de complicata intre personaje, cu Elena Andreevna care da peste cap un parcurs de altfel linistit al vietii la conacul fostei sotii a sotului ei . Doua mici triunghiuri se formeaza: Elena, care desi isi iubeste batrinul sot il simpatizeaza deopotriva pe doctor, dar si Vanea e indragostit de ea; Sonia il iubeste pe doctor, dar doctorul, cum spuneam, e amorezat de Elena.
* Vanea ma supara. Ma asteptam sa fie mai cerebral, hotarit si stapin pe sine. Sa puna piciorul in prag. Pentru ca profesorul e demn de mila si extrem de agasant.


Pescarusul *****
* Inca nu mi-e clar de ce e o comedie, cind eroul principal se sinucide in final.
* N-as putea spune ca piesa are un subiect propriu zis, mai degraba o atmosfera proprie, cu oameni nefericiti sau neimpliniti, in cautarea acelor lucruri / persoane care le pot aduce satisfactie.
* Intotdeauna mi-e teama de monologuri si le gasesc putin stinjenitoare pentru actori, desi realizez ca pentru ei reprezinta unul din punctele forte ale piesei. La un moment dat Trigorin are un monolog foarte lung si am incercat sa-mi imaginez un actor declamindu-l. Si suna in mintea mea extrem de fals. De fapt teatrul in sine e un fel de realitate paralela, si nu are nimic din naturaletea vietii de zi cu zi si spontaneitatea dialogurilor reale. Si cu toate astea (imi) place.
* Acum citiva ani am citit pe liternet un jurnal de repetitii tinut de Cristina Bazavan la montarea piesei de catre Andrei Serban la teatrul din Sibiu (mama si fiul din piesa - mama si fiul in viata reala - Maia Morgenstern si Tudor Istodor). Foarte interesant, tocmai recitesc. Vezi aicit

[FerroN · Rating 4 out of 5]

Il gabbiano: ***
Zio Vanja: ***
Tre sorelle: ***
Il giardino dei ciliegi: ****

Ambientate in campagna o in cittadine della provincia russa, le quattro celebri opere teatrali di Čechov rappresentano soprattutto la solitudine e l’incomunicabilità. La tragedia si compie fuori scena, oppure è nascosta dai toni della commedia (o sta sotto il costante brusio delle chiacchiere). I protagonisti appartengono a famiglie decadute, messe in crisi da profondi cambiamenti sociali; tensioni affettive, “triangoli” amorosi, tentativi di inserirsi nel modo del lavoro o dell’arte, desiderio nostalgico di tornare a stabilirsi in città sono soltanto sogni e fantasmi che servono a nascondere il dolore per la vita passata e i fallimenti, a sopprimere l’angoscia di un’esistenza inutile o di un difficile adattamento alle nuove realtà.
Immersi in atmosfere stantie e indolenti, i personaggi dialogano ma non si ascoltano, intervengono nelle conversazioni cambiando discorso, ognuno intento soprattutto a seguire il filo dei propri pensieri. Il presente è una gabbia da cui pare impossibile fuggire, mentre l’attesa inerte e annoiata lascia presagire un futuro fosco, carico di speranze sfumate, rimpianti e miraggi di felicità.
Nessuna trama elaborata, nessun colpo di scena: il dramma è quasi sempre interiore. I momenti finali di “Il giardino dei ciliegi” – ultima opera teatrale realizzata da Čechov – costituiscono l’ideale conclusione di un’antologia omogenea.
La prosa è limitata ai dialoghi; all’inizio di ogni atto sono poste descrizioni sceniche in genere molto limitate, mentre indicazioni per movimenti e espressioni degli attori sono sempre scarne e stringate.

“Nel laboratorio di Čechov” è il titolo di quattro introduzioni che contengono estratti dalla corrispondenza intercorsa tra lo scrittore e l’amica Ol’ga Knipper, amici, parenti, attori, impresari, direttori di teatri; il materiale epistolare è una miniera di aneddoti e curiosità in cui sono espressi anche dubbi, difficoltà, insoddisfazioni e – spesso – pigrizia, stanchezza, scarsa convinzione e poca voglia di scrivere.
L’edizione Einaudi contiene inoltre un’utile nota bibliografica e due brevi saggi (“Il teatro di Čechov” di Angelo Maria Ripellino e “Čechov non crede alle lacrime” di Mauro Martini); la versione ebook contiene i medesimi refusi di quella cartacea, cui si aggiunge qualche errore di formattazione del testo.

[Carlos Natálio · Rating 5 out of 5]

Abusador e sem muita relevância a tarefa de procurar uma só palavra que seja o fio que lace as quatro peças mais conhecidas de Anton Tchekhov, "A Gaivota" (1896), "Tio Vânia" (1899-1900), "As Três Irmãs" (1901) e "O Ginjal" (1904). Vem-me à cabeça a palavra ilusão (perdida) - são duas palavras, afinal - e com elas os ideais da escrita e da arte de Tréplev desfeitos a tiro; a juventude desaproveitada, a vida não vivida do tio Vânia; as três irmãs iludidas sobre a vida fora da sua propriedade, na grande Moscovo e no amor verdadeiro; e, finalmente, Andréevna, iludida sobre a manutenção de um passado ligado a uma juventude e ao ginjal. Também à manutenção de uma ilusão de classe que deixará de o ser, antes que venham os veraneantes e os comerciantes cortar as árvores, desfazer a mística do verdadeiro ennui. "As Três Irmãs" e "O Ginjal" funcionam como uma espécie de inverso, parece-me, sendo que na primeiro as personagens querem sair do espaço rural e na segunda querem a todo o custo ficar. Curioso que entre o partir e o ficar, a comédia destas peças tem também a ver com a bipolaridade do tédio: ora maravilhando ora angustiando sobre o presente insatisfeito, o tanto que não se conseguiu, ou o tanto que já não volta. Não é por acaso que quase todas as peças tem um momento de elogio do trabalho, por contraposição a uma devassidão, a uma mediania, a uma pobreza de espírito na Rússia da época. Em Tchekhov há sempre um idealista, que verbaliza um futuro melhor, liberto destes tédios rurais, mas ele, como os demais, também acaba meio perdido ou, pelo menos, a caminho de parte incerta. E de galochas rotas! Mas livre! Com ironia, entenda-se... Resta saber se esta queda da ilusão é para o autor russo uma forma de pessimismo, ou pura e simplesmente uma outra forma de encenar o envelhecimento.

[Armita · Rating 3 out of 5]

Uncle Vanya was good, thus the 3 stars, but I didn't really enjoy the other 3 plays.

[Laia Puig Fontrodona · Rating 5 out of 5]

Només he llegit "L'oncle Vania", la puntuació és per aquesta obra.

[j. santos ¨̮ ꒱ · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars
apart from the classic shakespeare plays, i havent had much contact with theatre as part of literature as a whole. well, now i have new contact! i feel like im not comfortable enough with the genre to actually review the quality, but i do tend to like russian classics and i enjoyed these. will be looking for more eventually, its good to step out of my comfort zone(s) for once

[Matt · Rating 5 out of 5]

These plays move me in a way which I can't describe. Or, rather, I probably could but it would be endless and personal and boring.

I think this is modern suburbia in embryo; it is also, of course, seeped in "The Russian Character."

I love Dostoevsky and Tolstoy with a deep passion but there's really no one quite like Chekhov. For that thin tissue of humanity billowing in the wind over the void "thing" he's the one you want.

How much life do we lose, in living? How much have we lost already?

ps
Louie Malle's (final) film "Vanya on 42nd St" is an autumnal masterpiece. The actors are all veterans of stage and screen who meet every so often in a crumbling theater to put on the eponymous play for friends and relatives and they literally just walk in off the street and get into the stir of the play.

[Realini Ionescu · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Cherry Orchard by Anton Chekhov



This is the play that I have listened to this morning and it gave me an interesting, maybe breakthrough idea…perhaps it is not my “invention „but if it is, it could be rather exciting.

This is the best known of Chekhov’s masterpieces and a definite classic. I will approach it from a different, positive psychology angle.



It is funny and yet strange how I come across Russian titans, just as the Putin- Godzilla is crushing into Eastern (Former??) Ukraine. Politics, world affairs have little to do with the arts, Great Literature…or do they? I shouldn’t mix Chekhov and Gazprom in the same sentence, but the threat of a gas shortage is kinda’of like the threat of cutting the orchard down.



I have looked at a map of World happiness and saw Russia with the worst possible color, indicating the lowest levels of life satisfaction in the world, somehow expressed at times in The Cherry Orchard. Negative, pessimistic people have bad results, take awful decisions.

I came up with the idea, listening to the lamentations of Ranevskaya, Varya and Gayev, that if a country sits so low on the scale of happiness, it then misbehaves acts terribly- just like Russia does in the Ukraine and did in Georgia. It is a simple extrapolation: negative individuals do bad things, large groups of pessimists….grab other countries.



The Cherry Orchard might be very representative for the Russian soul, way of thinking and philosophy. Sadness seems to prevail, just like a sense of desperation, taedium vitae, spleen.



The cultivated suffer from this: “I have read very much, but I still do not know- should I go on living g or I shoot myself?”

Firs, the old loyal servant is depressed and calls the liberation of the serfs “The great disaster”- he would not be freed, when the issue arose, Firs preferred to continue as a servant.



We can look at the bright side and see the fact that the orchard will make room for houses as a fresh start, a new opportunity for people to begin a new life. Or we could deplore progress, long for the old days and sit with hands crossed and bring in a band of musicians, to spend even more money, when we are already in huge debt and bankrupt.



The nostalgia and appreciation for the beauty of The Orchard are to be understood and empathized with. We should not cut down forests, jungles and orchards all in the name of an elusive “Progress”

A balance needs to be struck: humanity, Gayev and Ranevskaya need to find a way to move forward, cut down on waste and useless, or pretentious expenses and protect the environment.

The Orchard would have survived, were it not for the carelessness with which money had been thrown out of the window on lavish parties and unaffordable luxuries.

We can’t have it all; nature, pristine scenery, glorified memories and expensive balls, exquisite cuisine, refined clothes, luxuries make demands on the purse and this takes a toll- nobody will read this review to decide whether to grab The Cherry Orchard, but I will avoid writing about what happens.

The whole experience of listening to The Orchard again, was made more memorable by the role of Gayev, played by our greatest actor George Constantin: when he is lamenting, he has a way of including the opposite emotion, so that you feel the whole range: you feel empathy, but could also laugh. In all other situations: if the role demands a threatening attitude, the audience still feels an irony. If it is a comic situation there is also greatness.

What an amazing actor- on a par, if not better than Jack Nicholson, in his better days (not Anger Management or The Bucket List)

Through all the sadness, I was taken aback and humored by a weird, paradoxical turn of events:

When worse comes to worse, the Russians went to London…think of that- when it’s a s bad as it gets, fly to London, Chelsea nowadays – the district of the Russian, embezzling oligarchs.
Posted 5th May 2014 by realini

0 Add a comment

[Vilja · Rating 3 out of 5]

Vain Kirsikkatarha luettu.

[Paula · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ha sido un bonito acercamiento al teatro de Chekhov. Tiene una introducción muy completa sobre su vida y obra y notas a pie de página súper útiles.

La Gaviota me gustó desde las primeras frases: MEDVÉDENKO "A qué se debe que vista usted siempre de negro?"; MASHA "Llevo luto por mi vida. Soy desgraciada". Empieza, además, con una obra de teatro que está a punto de representarse; el teatro dentro del teatro. Toda la obra gira en torno al arte (a la literatura, al teatro, a la tortura del talento inmaduro): un escritor, una joven que quiere ser actriz, otro joven que busca dirigir una obra innovadora, otra actriz ya consagrada... También el amor tiene un papel importante, la de triángulos que se dan. Y la gaviota, símbolo de libertad, esperanza y abatimiento. Nina, que tiene fe ciega en el arte ("Yo creía que para quien ha conocido el placer de crear, los demás placeres no existen"), y Masha, que se refugia en el amor por no poder cristalizar sus ansias de belleza, han sido mis personajes preferidos. Es la obra de la colección que más he disfrutado. Además, la leí en mi viaje de semana santa en paisajes preciosos.

El tío Vania ha sido la que menos me ha interpelado. Son escenas del sufrimiento corriente, para mí, y también se percibe mucha crítica de clase (la felicidad del profesor a costa de la del tío Vania, etc.). Me hace mucha gracia Astrof, el moderno ecologista.

"Día y noche, lo mismo que un trasgo, me corroe la idea de que mi vida está perdida sin remedio. El pasado no existe, se ha consumido estúpidamente en nimiedades, y el presente es espantoso por lo absurdo. Ahí tiene usted mi vida y mi amor. ¿De qué me sirven? ¿Qué hago con ellos? Este sentimiento mío muere baldíamente como un rayo de sol caído en un pozo, y también yo perezco".

En la tercera obra, Las tres hermanas, Olga, Masha e Irina, son románticas y soñadoras. Pasan toda la obra soñando con volver a Moscú, y, como el resto de personajes, añorando un futuro mejor sin hacer nada por alcanzarlo. Me ha gustado mucho también, fue la primera que leí para las clases de crítica teatral. Me gustó ver como poco a poco, una a una, las tres hermanas y Anfisa acaban siendo desalojadas de la casa, que actúa como un personaje más.

"La música suena tan alegre y animosa como si estuviéramos a punto de descubrir para qué vivimos, para qué padecemos. ¡Si se pudiera saber! ¡Si se pudiera saber!"

Y por último, El jardín de los cerezos, o de los guindos, según la intro de esta edición, es de las obras que más me han gustado. Me hace mucha gracia la forma en que habla de esos nuevos grupos que irrumpen en lo conocido; los dachistas, esos cutres veraneantes. Es bonito cómo trata la belleza de lo pasado, que es el jardín de guindos, que ahora cae a base de hachazos, y Ania, la juventud, se despide de ello alegremente. El final es de lo más triste que he leído... El pobre Firs, ay, que muere a la par que la casa. No ha conocido vida más allá de ésta, claro, y qué pena me ha dado. Y nadie ha visto que se olvidaban de él, enfermo, no por maldad sino porque son incapaces de ver más allá de sus narices. Él, en cambio, preocupadito por Leonid... Qué tristeza. Y el silencio, y los hachazos que lo rompen.

[Ryan · Rating 3 out of 5]

When I say Chekhov’s stories are better than his plays, it’s not like I didn’t try. I saw two to see if there was something I’d missed. The first was The Seagull at Stratford, with Penelope Wilton playing Arkadina; the second was Three Sisters at the Birmingham Rep, with Charles ‘Tywin Lannister’ Dance playing Vershinin. (That said, the recent Uncle Vanya with Richard Armitage was quite superb.)

Michael Frayn’s translation captures more of Chekhov than others and makes him sound more wistful and wry.

[Cate]

Side-by-side comparison of an early monologue in The Three Sisters from Senelick and Rocamora (no spoilers), plus a few additional lines that stood out to me when I was reading both translations side-by-side (also selected from early in the play, so no spoilers).

TL;DR: Neither edition was perfect. I ended up borrowing pieces of both translations to put together a natural-sounding monologue for a class. Slightly prefer Rocamora for performing or studying, but the Senelick is slightly more accessible

ROCAMORA: "When I woke up this morning, I got up, I bathed, and suddenly it seemed that everything on earth was now clear to me, and I knew how I must live. Darling Ivan Romanich, I understand everything now. A man must work, he must work by the sweat of his brow, whoever he may be, and this and this alone is his reason for his being, his happiness, his ecstasy. How noble it is to be a humble workman, who rises at the break of dawn and smashes stones by the roadside, or a shepherd, or an engine driver on the railroad...Merciful God, let alone a human being, better to be an ox, a humble horse, even, if only to work, better than than a young lady, who gets up at noon each day, who drinks coffee in bed, who takes two hours to get dressed...oh, how awful it is! The way one thirsts for water on a sweltering day, so do I thirst for work. And if I don't rise early each day and work, then deny me thy friendship, Ivan Romanich."

SENELICK: "When I woke up today, I got out of bed and washed, and suddenly it dawned on me that I understand everything in the world and I know how a person out to live. Dear Ivan Romanych, I know everything. A person has to work hard, work by the sweat of his brow, no matter who he is, and that's the only thing that gives meaning and purpose to his life, his happiness, his moments of ecstasy. Wouldn't it be great to be a manual laborer who gets up while it's still dark out and breaks stones on the road, or a shepherd, or a schoolteacher, or an engineer on the railroad...My God, what's the point of being human? You might as well be an ox, an ordinary horse, so long as you're working, rather than a young woman who gets up a t noon, has her coffee in bed, and takes two hours to dress...oh, isn't that awful! Sometimes when the weather's sultry, the way you long for a drink; well, that's the way I long for work. And if I don't get up early and work hard, stop being my friend, Ivan Romanych"

In my opinion as a shoddy Russian translator and an excellent English-speaker, Rocamora's "that everything on earth was now clear to me" is a closer and nicer-sounding translation of Chekhov's "что для меня все ясно на этом свете" than Senelick's "I understand everything in the world," which sounds awkwardly pompous and doesn't have the excuse of being literal. Rocamora's phrasing preserves some of Chekhov's poetic rhythm in this line, and thereby also conveys something about Irina: the content of her speech is undeniably self-important, but she's also idealistic, romantic, and naive. By leaving out this meta-information we can glean from word choice, Senelick leaves out some information about Irina, too.

For the same reason, Rocamora's slightly flowerly "deny me thy friendship, Ivan Romanich" makes sense to me: it's a more literal translation of the way Chekhov wrote ("...то откажите мне в вашей дружбе, Иван Романыч"), and even though it doesn't translate perfectly naturally into modern speech, the slightly dramatic, grandiloquent touch to a phrase like, "deny me thy friendship" adds to our understanding of Irina's character as an idealistic, highbrow girl with a bit of superiority complex (though perhaps unnecessarily preserving the Russian thy/thine difference that's now extinct in English).

I don't really like Rocamora's "merciful God" (try saying that out loud in a natural way) when "My God" would have sufficed for "Боже мой," and I don't think her "let alone a human being" is as clear as Senelick's, "what's the point...". As a devotee of more literal translations (preserving participles, poetics, etc.), I do think that sometimes Senelick's translation aids the overall intelligibility of a text.

For example, (later in this scene) Senelick's translation of Olga's line, "How dreadfully inappropriate!" is more fitting than Rocamora's "How perfectly awful!" when Chebutykin gifts Irina a samovar. Senelick's edition includes a helpful note that a samovar is usually an anniversary gift from husband to wife: without including this background information in an actual play, "inappropriate" hints at the nature of this transgression more clearly than "awful" does. Yes, Rocamora's is a more literal translation of "Это ужасно!", and "inappropriate" is a milder word choice, but Senelick's (slightly) interpretative leap here is a one-word way to help the audience appreciate the overall meaning, even without knowing why the samovar is so offensive to Olga.

Overall, Senelick's strength is in the natural flow is his translation, but sometimes he veers into being almost too casual. His "wouldn't it be great to be..." sounds really cheesy to me, and it seems like Rocamora's "how noble..." communicates the idea better. As an amateur, I would be inclined to translate "как хорошо быть" as Senelick did (as literally as possible), but to the best of my knowledge Rocamora's "noble" is perfectly adequate. Something about "wouldn't it be great" just doesn't sound right to me (I would go for, "wouldn't it be noble to be..."). Irina isn't suggesting she will actually be pursuing a career in manual labor or that it's something she'd really enjoy doing; she's an upperclass girl romanticizing the humble worker in the way we often romanticize "the noble poor" or "the noble savage." (This is borderline way too subjective dig into a single line, so take it as you will.)

So, from a few lines, this seems like an almost futile analysis: sometimes Senelick is clearer, sometimes it's Rocamora. You would have to do a line-by-line breakdown of an entire play to get a real sense of who is the overall "better" translator, and not just 14 lines from a single play in a large compilation. And in all fairness, there are moments where neither translator really captures the moment: some of Solyony's lines are difficult (although I appreciate that Rocamora captures their rhythm if not always their meaning). However, the reason I prefer Rocamora's translation is this tiny, tiny moment:

At the end of a small speech (different monologue), Chekhov has Solyony (semi-ironically) address Tusenbach as "ангел мой," which Senelick translates as "angel mine" whereas Rocamora goes with "my angel." This kind of construction–the possessive following the noun–is OK in Russian*, but have you ever heard someone say that in English in your life??? That's the sort of decision to discuss in a literary class with a teacher who knows some Russian, not great for performing a play. And that, in my opinion, is the problem with Senelick. One of his real strengths is the overall clarity of his translation: it reads so easily and the language is so natural that sometimes (in my opinion) Senelick sacrifices literality where it would be useful for interpretation. It's a clumsy balance between being sometimes too literal (angel mine) to perform and sometimes too loose for a serious academic interpretation, or even a serious theatrical interpretation.

To its merit, the Senelick edition does come with some very nice notes, essays and letters that make the play more intelligible, which is enormously helpful, both for a class or a role. I would recommend checking out or even owning a copy of the Senelick for this reason alone. I'm probably going to end up owning two or three copies of these plays, but if you are looking for an easy introduction to Chekhov, I would go with the Senelick. Here's one more little note:

In the opening monologue of the play Rocamora has Olga say to Irina, "you're all in white," which is a fine translation of "ты уже в белом платье"; but it doesn't communicate the significance of her dress as clearly as Senelick's "you're back to wearing white," reminding us that the sisters would have been wearing dark mourning clothes for a while after their father's death. The play is filled with moments like this, where Senelick will add in just a little line or word that made me go, "Oh, so that's what this means." The difference in intelligibility is small (really, the "wearing white" thing is clear enough if you think about it), but if you want something immediately intelligible–to amateurs, to students, to an audience–Senelick has a lot to offer. If I weren't such a stickler for translation, I would make Senelick my "reading for pleasure" edition.

Hoping to get my hands on a translation by Frayn as well!

*A Russian doorman told me that in a certain context, it emphasizes sentiment, like мама моя / mom my, conveys a certain affection for your mom. Don't quote me on that.

[Valeria · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un classico intramontabile i cui capolavori sono una grande testimonianza del pensiero dell’epoca, il 1900.
Attraverso i dialoghi dei personaggi possiamo vedere come sono cambiate le prospettive di vita del popolo rispetto ad altre opere russe dell’800.
I drammi giocano non sull’azione ma sulla staticitá: i personaggi sono rassegnati, infelici, annoiati, insoddisfatti e colmi di impossibile.
Tutti hanno dei desideri, ricorrente é il desiderio di voler andare in città e lasciare la campagna in quanto oziosa e priva di lavoro, non nobilita l’uomo, lo impigrisce.
Mentre nell’800 lavorare non era ben visto, dopo un secolo viene considerato come un grande valore soprattutto per assicurare le generazioni future ad una vita migliore.
“Una volta l’umanità non si occupava che di guerre, la sua esistenza era punteggiata di spedizioni, di invasioni, di vittorie. Tutte queste cose, oggi, sono diventate fuori moda, e hanno lasciato un vuoto enorme, che non é ancora stato colmato. L’umanità é alla ricerca e finirà col trovare, prima o poi!”
Il 900 é futurismo, movimento non esiste più spazio per l’ozio, cosa che pensano pure gli stessi nobili.
Anche i personaggi sono diversi: troviamo più borghesi che alta nobiltà.
Tra le righe si può leggere una speranza verso il futuro, che per molti personaggi é positivo e pieno di riscatto mentre per altri é assolutamente pessimistico.
L’uomo é visto come distruzione: distrugge foreste, laghi, la vita che c’é intorno a causa di questa sua continua lotta verso un esistenza migliore.
Ma i personaggi sembrano disorientati da questo improvviso movimento, accelerazione del nuovo mondo e appaiono disillusi, senza volontà, prigionieri di una realtà intorpidita che distrugge i sogni.
Ci sono temi come l’insoddisfazione, il rimpianto per non aver vissuto una vita migliore, ma dopotutto é questo il destino dell’uomo: non avere la felicità ma solamente desiderarla perché poi quando la si ottiene non ci si bada più e sogna altro.
Insoddisfazione perenne, l’uomo del 900 é l’uomo che aspetta invano mister Godot, molte pause e atmosfere ricordano il capolavoro di Beckett.

[Gabriela · Rating 5 out of 5]

He leído a Chéjov en contrapunto con las películas de Kaurismäki... así lo determinó el tiempo; y creo que Chéjov escribiría en estos tiempos también historias, como Kaurismaki, sobre el hombre trabajador, la soledad y el amor.
Me he conmovido en demasía.
Ambos parecen partir de que la vida es difícil, que estamos solos en este mundo que tiende a atomizarnos, y que lo único que nos queda es el amor y la compasión.
Chéjov llega hasta las profundidades del alma humana.
Algunos personajes memorables, como Sonia y Ania, están por encima del mundo, del sinsentido de la existencia que nos tortura constantemente. Ellas consuelan con la palabra.

¡Descansaremos! Oiremos a los ángeles, veremos todo el cielo tachonado de diamantes, veremos cómo son sumergidos todos nuestros sufrimientos y todo el mal existente sobre la tierra por la misericordia que inundará el mundo entero, y nuestra vida se volverá entonces apacible, suave y dulce como una caricia. Yo tengo fe en ello, tengo fe...

Qué triste es darse cuenta que la vida se nos va y que somos efímeros e insignificantes.

[Gonçalo Martins · Rating 4 out of 5]

O homem foi dotado de razão e de força criadora para multiplicar o que lhe foi dado, mas até hoje não tem criado, só destruído. Há cada vez menos florestas, os rios secam, a caça desaparece, o clima está todo estragado, a Terra torna-se mais pobre e mais feia a cada dia que passa. (O Tio Vânia, p. 93)

[Inês Beato · Rating 4 out of 5]

Já conhecia por alto estes quatro clássicos, mas foi um verdadeiro prazer ler as peças propriamente ditas. Especialmente “O Tio Vânia” e “A Gaivota” são maravilhosas.

[Mireia Mv · Rating 5 out of 5]

Qué locura. Me han encantado todas las obras incluidas en esta edición, pero me veo obligada a decir que, dentro de la genialidad de todas ellas, va en descenso. La Gaviota me ha parecido sin lugar a dudas la mejor de ellas junto con El Tío Vania.

Creo que me acabo de enamorar de otro autor más. Qué locura.

[Monique Gerke · Rating 4 out of 5]

Todas as quatros peças são maravilhosas! Amo Tchekhov.

[Sikander Hassan · Rating 4 out of 5]

While not quite riddled with despair as some of his short stories were, Chekov's plays still portray the rural Russian life in all this romance and universal angst. Uncle Vanya is especially brilliant.

[Raúl Calderón · Rating 3 out of 5]

Me he leído La Gaviota y El tío Vania. Grandes obras, intensas y breves. Recomendadas si quieres deprimirte un poco con lo que viene a ser la vida misma, los anhelos y las frustraciones humanas...

[Luke Reynolds · Rating 3 out of 5]

While a few of these pieces in this collection are duds, Chekhov still holds some weight despite being an overrated dead rich white male playwright. I like the very contradiction of his comedies, that they carry more dramatic weight than initially expected. They're very much ensemble pieces, giving spotlights to each character despite their own apathy towards everyone around them. They make you laugh, ruminate, and connect everything back to you despite their settings, and I think that's the point of it all. It comes together in the end, even if the characters are unlikable rich fools most of the time. They're still human.

"The Seagull"-2 out of 5 stars: I was once again reminded by Chekhov's twisted sense of humor while reading this play. He finds humor in a person's tragedy, and while it worked in Uncle Vanya and The Cherry Orchard, it didn't for me in this play. The characters seemed to be running around in circles with no focus, and the two-year time-skip was an interesting choice. However, I could see what he was doing by the heartbreaking fourth act: sometimes we shoot for dreams in the hopes we'll get the success we see everyone else experiencing, but it's not the fame that matters; it's the perseverance through gaining that fame. Doesn't mean it'll restore us, though; it ends up destroying us instead. Too bad I waded through three acts to get to that thematic showcase; I wasn't really invested in much of this play until that moment. Looks like I'll watch the film where Saiorse Ronan is Nina to see if it can be adapted well (update TK).

“Uncle Vanya”-4 out of 5 stars: I was in a production of The Cherry Orchard this past fall at my college, and I watched the 43rd Street movie adaptation of it prior to reading this for Directing class. I’m that person who despite recognizing Chekhov as a perhaps outdated and archaic historical playwright, I find his dramatic comedies funny and melodramatic, which I think is the point. This story of country life going down the drain as these miserable people flourish on this estate with unrequited crushes and poor self-esteems was fun and entertaining, especially with a guy with a nickname as amazing as “Waffles”.

“The Three Sisters”-1 out of 5 stars: This flew over my head completely. Who were these people wandering around and talking? Why were they wallowing in their grief and intelligence and humor? IDK. I just didn’t understand what I read and what I skimmed and felt completely detached.

“The Cherry Orchard”-4 out of 5 stars: I played Yasha in this show at my college (I was cast after the original actor declined the role, but you know what? It do be like that sometimes), so I have a little bit of a personal attachment to this piece. I wish some of the plot threads that did get closed ended up being more apparent than what they were, but for the most part, this is an absolutely heartbreaking comedy centered on the shift of the upper class to middle. At the center is a family too privileged to care, but once they crack, everything comes crashing down. Add in side romances, deception, and the classic "pretending everything is fine" act that no one buys, Chekhov is able to find humor in the fragility of these human beings and make it funny and sad at the same time. A truly great piece, complete with the ending that doesn't hold back any punches.

[Alba Hasimja (Abaa) · Rating 5 out of 5]

•Shkrim thellësisht subjektiv, i ndikuar nga dashuria e pamatë kundrejt Çehovit•
Për herë të parë u dashurova me Çehovin pasi pashë dramën 'Tri motrat'. Të harrosh të marrësh frymë gjatë katër orëve që zgjati dhe të këmbëngulësh si fëmijë i llastuar që të të blejnë sërish një biletë për ta riparë javës tjetër, do të thotë se ke gjetur një shkrimtar që do të të shoqërojë deri në përjetësi.
Dramat e Çehovit u bënë hapëset e teatrit modern; thelbi nuk do të qendronte tek aksioni dhe ngjarja, por do binte mbi tensionin, filozofinë dhe ndjesitë e personazheve. Në fillime i pakuptuar nga regjisorët dhe i cilësuar 'dështim', më pas i kthyer ne dramaturgun e dytë më të vënë në skenë pas Shekspirit, Anton Çehovi arrin të të përplasë me mendimet të cilave u fshihesh dhe ndjenjave që zgjedh t'i shtypësh, falë personazheve nga më të papërsëritshmit, falë humorit të zi, falë realizmit dhe gjuhës së pasur.
Asnjë personazh nuk është perfekt. Të gjithë janë viktima të një jete të lidhur me provincën, e cila kurrë nuk i kupton dhe i detyron të fshihen ose transformohen në qenie mediokre si ajo vetë. Sidoqoftë, ato janë burime ndjenjash e mendimesh të mirëportretizuara nga Çehovi, ku secili lexues (spektator) gjen veten dhe mbase qoftë edhe për një çast ëndërron të jetë pjesë e historisë së trishtë. Pavarësisht thyerjes së rregullave shoqërore/familjare, të gjithë do donin të bëheshin pjesë e vorbullës së ndjenjave mes Mashës dhe Vershininit (ah, Vershinini!); t'ia lejonim vetes lajthitjen e xhaxha Vanjës; të vdisnim si Treplovi; ose të qeshim pa turp me mendjengushtësinë si Jasha i 'Kopshtit të vishnjeve'.
Lexojini dramat e Çehovit (e nëse keni mundësi shihini shfaqjet e Çehovit)! Lexojini për të jetuar dhe jo për kënaqësi. Rikujtohuni se jeta nuk ka funde të lumtura dhe se asgjë nuk është fushë me lule. Jo gjithmonë do t'jua kuptojnë dashurinë dhe vlerat. Lexojini dramat e Çehovit dhe lereni veten të dashuroheni me të!

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

I had an audition for 'Cherry Orchard' so I thought I would read all four major plays to check off Chekhov from my list.
I liked these a lot better than I thought I would, but this is partly because I had tried to read them before in a different translation and just couldn't maintain interest. These are pretty new translations by Carol Rocamora and they read pretty well. I felt like I could understand what was happening a little better, and the humor came out more. I think I like 'Uncle Vanya' the best, and 'Three Sisters' the least, but they are all pretty good. One thing I don't really understand is why he gets through these plays with a lot of realism and wit, and then always manages to tack a long 'we will endure! we will live! through WORK!' speech at the end of each play. Those speeches seem thrown in.
It's also funny that people are always saying awkward expository things at the start of these plays. People will say things like, 'look sisters, THERE...there is where mama died...mamotchka...right there, in the corner, while chastising Nanny....do you remember, do you remember how we cried?' I think they probably remember.
The other thing about these plays is that they always refer to characters in about a hundred different ways, and it's hard to keep up. Someone will mention Vatiky Vatikovitch in act III and I'm like, who the hell is Vatiky Vatikovitch, so I look in the character list, and it says that Vatikovitch is Popov, a local lieutenant, who has been in the play from the start. And then the next sentence they are calling him Popotchka or Popseyvitch or something.
Did everyone in 1900-era Russia have local lieutenants and barons? I wonder if people watching this then would be laughing and saying 'It's so true! He's just like MY local lieutenant!'

[Pedro · Rating 4 out of 5]

If modern theatre is considered an intellectual pastime not fit for the consumption of the casual viewer, then Tchékhov's plays strike at the heart of drama's subtetlies. And rightly so for the plays, filled with undersayings, carve a complex structure out of the amalgam of thoughts and feelings that litter the human psyche.
It would be unfair, though, to describe the pieces as an unintelligible rant. In fact, the plots and characters are robust and strongly developed and despite the apparent mayhem of an histrionic burgoise there is a very fine message that's never openly uttered but which lingers in the air and, as if poetic mist, hazes the dramatic landscape before settling on the heart of the reader.
Perhaps what struck me the most is Tchékhov's insistence on the otiosity inherent to the country life, described as a sort of malingering miasma which clouds the human drive and sucks even the steadfast into a state of idleness and bestiality; poles apart from the city life, the vanguard of knowledge, reason and achievement - a perspective curiously contrary to Tolstoy's worldview and ascetic preferences, to whom Tchékhov was contemporary.
Despite the regret-filled thoughts that the characters have or acquire throughout the plays, I feel there reads a text other than the prophecy for the dark doom of humanity: a beacon, hiding among the words, lighting the path and calling the reader to embrace the rational him, the only tool fit for crossing the dark waters of sloth and reach the greatness to which he is bound.