Classics and the Western Canon discussion

The short-short story for this week is "In the Dark," a story of mistaken identity and a variation on the old henpecked husband trope. I don't watch sit-coms much any more, but it seems to me I've seen this situation -- where the wife wakes up her husband because she hears a noise -- replayed over and over again in different TV shows. I think it's a great example of both Chekhov's ironic sense humor, and his economy of style.

The ending has two interesting twists. One is the identity of the "intruder," and the other is the revelation of what really frightens Marya Mikhailovna. More frightening than burglars! Scarier than cynicism!

The story is #080 on the Eldritch Press site: http://www.eldritchpress.org/ac/jr/

I enjoyed this story, since I do like stories with twists. The fact that the husband created a fireman lover for the cook, and he turned out to be correct is funny. As for the horrified wife-- the cook is actually having an affair, oh my!

Oh, I thought the wife assumed her husband was up to something in the kitchen, too. She asks if he took his dressing gown off in the kitchen....

That could be a possibility too. Maybe she didn't trust him.
On rereading the story, I understand why you said that. But she knew he didn't have the dressing gown on when he left the bedroom, didn't she?

Susan wrote: "Oh, I thought the wife assumed her husband was up to something in the kitchen, too. She asks if he took his dressing gown off in the kitchen...."

It is odd that she asks him that, when she said before that she gave his dressing gown to Pelagaya to brush. How could he take it off if he didn't have it on in the first place?

That was my impression as well.

Well, poor Marya is a bit overexcited... but that is what makes the story funny. It's easy to see, even in this very short scene, how Chekhov eventually found fame as a playwright.

Thomas wrote: "Susan wrote: "Oh, I thought the wife assumed her husband was up to something in the kitchen, too. She asks if he took his dressing gown off in the kitchen...."

It is odd that she asks him that, when she said before she gave it to Pelagaya..."

Actually, it wasn't the wife who said she gave his dressing gown to Pelagaya to brush. It was the nurse, Vassilissa. It was so dark when he was making his way to the kitchen, he stumbled into the nursery and woke up the nurse and asked her about the dressing gown. His wife didn't know if he had his dressing gown on when he left the room because it was too dark to see.

I hesitate to say this, but I have a slightly different reading of the story.

I think it hinges on the title, “In the Dark.” The central question in my mind is who is in the dark?

The wife wakes up at night and sees somebody sneak into the house. She wakes her hubby up to tell him there’s a burglar. He dismisses her concerns and suggests facetiously it’s just the cook’s lover. When she insists he goes down and puts a stop to their shenanigans, he accuses her of having “a microscopic female brain.” Ouch!

So he trudges downstairs, groping his way in the dark and mistakenly stumbles into the nursery before finding the kitchen. He confronts the cook about having a visitor. She denies it until he finally “has to acknowledge himself in the wrong.” He feels for what he thinks is his dressing gown by the stove (“feels” because it is dark and he can’t see), puts it on, and trudges back up stairs in the dark. He tells his wife it was all in her imagination, that the cook is as virtuous as she is, suggests she should visit the doctor about her “hallucinations,” and accuses her of being a neurotic. (Once again, ouch!)

The smell of food is the catalyst that finally sheds light on which one of the two has actually been in the dark the whole time. He lights the candle and discovers he is wearing the fireman’s coat. Apparently, he still doesn’t get it:

Flung over his shoulders was not his dressing-gown, but the fireman's overcoat. How had it come on his shoulders?

I feel like asking him, “How do you think it got on your shoulders, dear?”

Meanwhile, his wife is imagining all sorts of “horrors” taking place in the dark downstairs. But perhaps there is more worrying her than the shenanigans between cook and fireman. Perhaps she is also realizing that her husband is still totally in the dark about what’s happening right under his nose, and the “whispering” that is going on downstairs between the cook and her lover is about how easy it was to dupe the husband. Or, it could be as Susan suggested earlier, that she thought he was up to something with the cook since he had apparently taken off his dressing gown in the kitchen.

The irony lies in the fact that the individual who thinks he sees the light is literally and figuratively in the dark while the individual who is accused of being in the dark (the wife accused of “hallucinations,” etc.) is actually the one who sees the light but who now maybe plagued with suspicions about her husband, i.e. she is in the dark about the nature of his relationship with the cook.

A nice twist!

Tamara wrote: Actually, it wasn't the wife who said she gave his dressing gown to Pelagaya to brush. It was the nurse, Vassilissa. "."

Ah, yes. Thank you. I am still a bit confused though...

"How had it come on his shoulders?" I read with an emphasis on it rather than how... but a dressing gown is a considerably different garment from a fireman's overcoat, I should think. I can accept that he doesn't notice the smell immediately, but why does he not notice the difference in the material or weight of the coat when he puts it on?

And there is, of course, the obvious question: why did he not light a candle to see what was going on?

Thomas wrote: "Tamara wrote: Actually, it wasn't the wife who said she gave his dressing gown to Pelagaya to brush. It was the nurse, Vassilissa. "."

Ah, yes. Thank you. I am still a bit confused though... why does he not notice the difference in the material or weight of the coat when he puts it on?

Could that be what shocked his wife? i.e. She realizes he is clueless. He didn't notice the difference between a fireman's coat and a dressing gown. He didn't figure out that the fireman had been downstairs in the kitchen the whole time and that he (the husband) had picked up the fireman's coat by mistake thinking it was his dressing gown. In other words, he is still totally in the dark about what is happening under his nose.

Tamara wrote: " He didn't figure out that the fireman had been downstairs in the kitchen the whole time and that he (the husband) had picked up the fireman's coat by mistake thinking it was his dressing gown. In other words, he is still totally in the dark about what is happening under his nose.
"

But doesn't he suspect that from the beginning?

"But, Basile, I swear I saw a man getting in at the window!"

"Well, what of it? Let him get in. . . . That's pretty sure to be Pelagea's sweetheart, the fireman."

"What! what did you say?"

"I say it's Pelagea's fireman come to see her."

"Worse than ever!" shrieked Marya Mihalovna. "That's worse than a burglar! I won't put up with cynicism in my house!"

He also wasn't upset by the visit of the fireman to the cook, unlike the wife.

Thomas wrote: "Tamara wrote: " He didn't figure out that the fireman had been downstairs in the kitchen the whole time and that he (the husband) had picked up the fireman's coat by mistake thinking it was his dre..."


But doesn't he believe the cook when she vehemently protests her innocence?

There was nothing left for the assistant procurator but to acknowledge himself in the wrong and go back to his spouse.

And then he goes back to his wife and tells her:

"There's nobody there at all," he said. "It was your fancy, you queer creature. . . . You can sleep easy, your fool of a Pelagea is as virtuous as her mistress. What a coward you are! What a . . . ."

I took him at his word. Even though he was wearing proof of the fireman's presence in the kitchen, he still hadn't put all the pieces together.

Tamara wrote: "But doesn't he believe the cook when she vehemently protests her innocence?

There was nothing left for the assistant procurator but to acknowledge himself in the wrong and go back to his spouse."

I thought he was just saying that because "there was nothing left but" for him to acknowledge it. He saw no one there. In the dark, naturally.

But the way you read it is perfectly justified. If he's clueless though I think it's because he doesn't care enough to really look! Perhaps he prefers to stay in the dark, until the evidence forces him to acknowledge what he suspected in the first place.

Thomas wrote: "If he's clueless though I think it's because he doesn't care enough to really look! Perhaps he prefers to stay in the dark..."

I agree.

The Swedish Match (1883) is essentially an extended funny story (generally in a minor key), typical for the young Chekhov. It has a place in the history of the detective story, but I don’t think it is one of Chekhov’s best. I find the shorter In the Dark (1886) more interesting.

I believe In the Dark poses the question why we sometimes believe things against our better judgement. As is the case here with Vassily Prokovitch Gagin. He knows somehow (as we know so many things 'somehow’) that the maid has an affair with a fireman. Nonetheless he is persuaded first to leave his bed without cause (or dressing gown) and next to apologize for his knowledge.

It might seem that the good-natured 'Basil' is ruled by the women of the house, notwithstanding his grumbling about their 'microscopic brains'. But I suspect he just doesn’t care about the domestic arrangements. About the restricted world in which the women were forced to live, and which Marya Mihalovna tries to make a bit more exciting through her fantasies (a burgler, 'cynicism', murder!).

Thomas wrote: " a dressing gown is a considerably different garment from a fireman's overcoat, I should think. I can accept that he doesn't notice the smell immediately, but why does he not notice the difference in the material or weight of the coat when he puts it on? .."

That was my immediate thought, too. How can he not tell the difference, even in the dark?

Tamara wrote: "So he trudges downstairs, groping his way in the dark and mistakenly stumbles into the nursery before finding the kitchen. ."

I thought he intentionally went into her room and woke her to get the dressing gown he had left with her before going all the way down to the kitchen.

Everyman wrote: "Tamara wrote: "So he trudges downstairs, groping his way in the dark and mistakenly stumbles into the nursery before finding the kitchen. ."

I thought he intentionally went into her room and woke ..."

Yes, I think you're correct.

Ok, I know this may seem like a strange question and have nothing to do really with the gist of the story, but when I first read this my question was: why was a housefly flying around in the dark? Don't their metabolisms slow down at night and they cease all activity?

If the story had not revealed the conversation between Vassily and Palagea, I would have thought the wife was correct in her suspicions at the end. It has been my experience that when someone is lying, they usually go to great lengths to make the other person feel that they are crazy for suspecting anything in the first place...

Genni wrote: "Ok, I know this may seem like a strange question and have nothing to do really with the gist of the story, but when I first read this my question was: why was a housefly flying around in the dark? ..."

I totally dismissed the sentence until you mentioned it and I read it again. Could it be foreshadowing or a metaphor for the rest of the story?

It [the fly] may have been impelled by curiosity, or have got there through frivolity or accident in the dark; anyway, the nose resented the presence of a foreign body and gave the signal for a sneeze.

We could consider the fireman a foreign body that got there through frivolity that causes a sneeze of sorts and wakes everyone up to what is going on in their house in the dark.

Or Marya is like the fly, since she seems to be the most curious character in the story, the only one who really wants to get to the bottom of things. She's also judged through most of the story as frivolous. The husband resents her meddling and tries to "sneeze" her away. Great call to look back at that first line!

I also found the last line really curious: "and so on, and so on." What do you make of that?

David wrote: "Could it be foreshadowing or a metaphor for the rest of the story?

It [the fly] may have been impelled by curiosity, or have got there through frivolity or accident in the dark;."

I like it! "Frivolity" is a very odd way to describe the activity of a fly, which to me means the description must be there purposely. It reminds me that Chekhov was the one who said that if there is a gun on the mantle in the first act, it must go off in the third. Everything is there for a reason.

David wrote: "Genni wrote: "Ok, I know this may seem like a strange question and have nothing to do really with the gist of the story, but when I first read this my question was: why was a housefly flying around..."


I like it also, David. :-)

Kathy wrote: "I also found the last line really curious: "and so on, and so on." What do you make of that?"

It makes me think of Wendel's earlier comment that she tries to make things exciting through her fantasies, which could be endless...

This was a nice quick, fun story. I'm getting more used to Chekhov's writing style and I'm enjoying the sparseness of his words.

I too was slightly confused by mistaking an overcoat for a dressing gown and even by the wife's reaction after this event. Surely they'd both just assume that the husband was correct in the first place, that it was indeed the fireman who had sneaked in to see the cook. I didn't see any need for more panic, except that it fit the hysterical wife's profile to see the situation in a melodramatic way.

Well, what about all the wife's questions now about what her husband was up to?

Forgive my cryptic thoughts. I have a sore arm and am typing with one left finger...

Well done 'catching' the fly, Genni. I noticed it at the beginning and thought that it contributed a lot to the atmosphere, but then promptly forgot about it.

A few years back I was dive-bombed by a housefly or bluebottle in the dark. Maybe he was a psycho fly. Of course he was an Irish fly and, no doubt, Russian flies behave differently.

I loved this little story. :-)