Classics and the Western Canon discussion

Chekhov told his friend Ivan Bunin that "The Student" was his favorite and most optimistic story. It is the shortest story of his "late" period, and it is remarkable for its economy of style. Donald Rayfield notes that Chekhov singled out this story "for its concise perfection, as Beethoven did his Eighth Symphony."

What is the significance of the occasion -- Good Friday -- in this story? (Chekhov had a religious upbringing, but later became an atheist. Maybe this is important, or maybe not.)

Why do think Chekhov considered the story "optimistic"?

"The Student" is story #173 at the Eldritch Press site:
http://www.eldritchpress.org/ac/jr/17...

Another story set at night. This seems to be a theme with Chekhov.

The women have just had a meal. This seems to indicate that they haven't observed the strict Good Friday fast of the Russian church. Ivan is hungry because he has been fasting, but on the other hand he has spent the holy day hunting snipe.

Oh, I did enjoy this story. I felt an initial connection to this story's frigid setting as winter weather here has recently arrived in its all its biting glory (albeit for the first time this season)...and then I noted that that was very much a primary point of the story: "the past...is connected with the present in an unbroken chain of events flowing one out of the other"... that it was cold where Peter stood by the fire; cold as Ivan, by the fire, spoke of Peter and cold as I read of cold Ivan speaking of cold Peter! (but alas, I was not by a fire but rather warming myself by a space heater. ha! ) Somethings just don't change all that much over the centuries as to the basics. It is unknown what further familiarity the women experienced as to the story of Peter that made them react so.

A question for Bigollo? In several of the stories, Chekhov has his characters say, "You'll be rich." At the bottom of this story, it says it is Russian folklore. I tried googling around, but couldn't find the story behind this so I thought I'd ask here.

Ivan is interesting to me. He is quite imaginative and he strikes me as someone who isn't really connected to his surroundings. I mean, he notices the wind and weather and the corresponding mood, but doesn't really connect with the two women the way he thinks he does? When he reaches the fire he starts talking about the Betrayal without any prompting from the two women. Then after he leaves, he completely makes up a story in his head about why they were showing emotion. It's interesting to me that the weather at the beginning of the story was described as inappropriate, because I felt it described Ivan as well. And if they were upset, why didn't he seek to help them further? Is there a societal element I'm missing?

Anyway, the fact that Chekhov thought this story was optimistic makes me think my reading of it is way off base, but there it is. :o

Sue wrote: ": "the past...is connected with the present in an unbroken chain of events flowing one out of the other"... that it was cold where Peter stood by the fire; cold as Ivan, by the fire, spoke of Peter and cold as I read of cold Ivan speaking of cold Peter! (but alas, I was not by a fire but rather warming myself by a space heater. ha!.."

:-) I loved that line as well.

Roger wrote: "The women have just had a meal. This seems to indicate that they haven't observed the strict Good Friday fast of the Russian church. Ivan is hungry because he has been fasting, but on the other han..."

I didn't notice this. Great point. If they were not religious, are we to assume that their emotional response to his musings were because of the story of Betrayal? By not being religious (anymore?), they had betrayed Christ and that is why they were upset??

Genni wrote: "A question for Bigollo? In several of the stories, Chekhov has his characters say, "You'll be rich." At the bottom of this story, it says it is Russian folklore. I tried googling around, but couldn..."

Yes, there is (or maybe better to say – was) a popular belief or sign in Russia that when, say, you bump into somebody acquainted to you and they don’t recognize you at first instance, but at the second – do, they may say something like:

“Oh, I didn’t recognize you first, you gonna be rich then!”

Exact wording may vary, of course. The main point is: First, you are not recognized by someone immediately, then this somebody instead of, or along with an apology, states that you’ll be rich.
Just a saying. Said in a good-natured manner. Nothing superstitious, almost a joke.
Why? Or where it’s coming from – I’ve no idea.

I don’t think it’s often used these days, but I heard it a lot from my grandparents’ generation when I was a kid.

Lukerya, staring immovably at the student, flushed crimson, and her expression became strained and heavy like that of someone enduring intense pain.

Earlier it is mentioned that her late husband beat her, and like any battered woman, she is innocent for having suffered such cruel treatment. Even though she doesn't say anything, she must have been reminded that Christ, the ultimate innocent victim, suffered worse.

I am unsure how to interpret the flushed face. Is she angry for being reminded of her own suffering? Is it shame for holding on to the pain? I don't get the sense she feels consolation - at least not at that moment.

Ah, Kerstin, you remind me by your post above about the direct relation of the mention of Jesus being beat and Lukerya taking sudden deeper interest: [Ivan said] "'He loved Jesus passionately, to distraction, and now from afar he saw how they beat him..' Lukerya abandoned the spoons and turned her fixed gaze on the student."

Kerstin wrote: "I am unsure how to interpret the flushed face. Is she angry for being reminded of her own suffering? Is it shame for holding on to the pain? I don't get the sense she feels consolation - at least not at that moment. ."

I don't see that she feels consolation either. Which is why I feel confused as to the student's "epiphany". His relation of the betrayal made them upset then he left. Why is he patting himself on the back and full of joy at the end? Because the story made them cry his mission is complete?

And it seemed to him that he had just seen both ends of that chain; that when he touched one end the other quivered.

The women quivered all right, but to what end? To give the student joy? If Chekhov saw the story as positive, I can only assume that we are meant to understand that because the women were touched in some way that they went on to lead better lives or something.

I'm sorry if I am being too hard on the story. I've never been accused of being an optimist.

Bigollo wrote: "Genni wrote: "A question for Bigollo? In several of the stories, Chekhov has his characters say, "You'll be rich." At the bottom of this story, it says it is Russian folklore. I tried googling arou..."

Huh. Well, if you ever find out the story behind it, please share. Would be interesting to know!

Genni wrote: "If Chekhov saw the story as positive, I can only assume that we are meant to understand that because the women were touched in some way that they went on to lead better lives or something."

It isn't clear why the widows have the emotional reactions that they do. It seems typical of Chekhov to leave this open to speculation, but the student senses that what happened to Peter must have "some relation" to each of them. The revelation that the student has is that the past is not dead -- time is an unbroken chain -- so the past is in some sense still alive. There seems to be an intimation of immortality here. Maybe that's where the optimism comes from?

Genni wrote: "I don't see that she feels consolation either. Which is why I feel confused as to the student's "epiphany". His relation of the betrayal made them upset then he left. Why is he patting himself on the back and full of joy at the end? Because the story made them cry his mission is complete?..."

I feel the same way. Ivan just assumes he knows why the women are upset. But he doesn't know and neither do we. If he's curious, why not pay them the respect they deserve by just asking them? Instead, he behaves as if he has all the answers, walks off, and has an "epiphany" on what may be based on a false assumption on his part.

I wasn't convinced by the epiphany. And in spite of what Chekhov said about this story, I don't see optimism, either. I see irony.

Patrice wrote: "after a quick read I felt this was a story of grace. I felt the joy of the resurrection. Yes life is full of suffering but there will be glory in the end. he felt connected to christ and all of the..."

I thought in the same direction. Just like Happiness, the story has a contemplative even mystical feel to it.

Thomas wrote: "The revelation that the student has is that the past is not dead -- time is an unbroken chain -- so the past is in some sense still alive. There seems to be an intimation of immortality here. Maybe that's where the optimism comes from?."

I can think of circumstances or situations where immortality would be a terrible thing rather than a positive one. But I understand your point, that Chekhov isn't thinking in that direction.

Taking immortality into consideration, I still feel dissatisfied. He assumes he knows what is going on with them, and if he is correct, wouldn't they deserve a little more attention than just a lecture? As Tamara says above, "he behaves as if he has all the answers, walks off, has an 'epiphany' on what may be based on a false assumption on his part". The student's epiphany takes central place in the story, leaving the women behind. It seems they are used to make a point, their suffering made light of. While I personally agree with the idea that the story of Christ touches people today, sometimes changing them, I don't think the actions of the student are consistent with the moral. The story of Christ touching people in the present would have involved him sitting down with those women and helping, not walking off to be introspective. I'm sorry if I'm being way too hard on the guy, but I feel like the student still has much to learn...

Tamara wrote: "Genni wrote: "I don't see that she feels consolation either. Which is why I feel confused as to the student's "epiphany". His relation of the betrayal made them upset then he left. Why is he pattin..."

It's reassuring to hear I'm not the only one unconvinced.

I'm so curious as to how this story sprang up in Chekhov though he was an atheist at the time. From what I understand, he wasn't an antagonistic atheist, but still, it's an interesting direction to take. I know there's probably no real answer, but what was going on in his mind?

My impression was that he felt joy from the realization of how sentient beings connect from shared feelings of the heart and sensations from nature not just temporally in the immediate but over the centuries. There is something joyous about that. It is rather like knowing we are all looking at the same moon both over time and from all over the globe..something nice about that thought.

Patrice wrote: "im not sure but on the second read i thought that lonperhaps hes explaining why he became an atheist. the religious student found happiness through lecturing to the suffering. but it wAs a self centered happiness. he did good for himself, no one else. he was feeling empty,lonely and as though something was a miss in thismiserable world. it would always be miserable. but then he preaches and feels great, im really not surenow if chekovis for the epiphany or against it. ."

This makes total sense, but Chekhov himself wrote that he thought of the story as optimistic. That makes me think that he is "for" the epiphany. Otherwise, it would make complete sense to me that he wrote the story to show why he was an atheist.

Sue wrote: "My impression was that he felt joy from the realization of how sentient beings connect from shared feelings of the heart and sensations from nature not just temporally in the immediate but over the..."

I think you're right, Sue. I think that was part of the student's joy. My problem is that that joy takes precedence over suffering. I see it that the student is pretty happy with the "result" of his night. But the only thing that has happened really is that he has had a revelation. I see him as being encouraged at the expense of others.

That said, I'm glad he received encouragement. We all need it. I just feel like the story missed a little.

Patrice wrote: "chekov is a workout, isnt he?"

Lol! He is!

Genni wrote: "My problem is that that joy takes precedence over suffering. I see it that the student is pretty happy with the "result" of his night ..."

I think you're right. But his joy is based on a false premise.
He is sensitive to nature but insensitive toward the two women. He doesn't connect with them. He talks at them instead of to them. Once he starts telling his story, they remain silent--one of them in tears, the other stone-faced and looking as if she is enduring intense pain
I think the irony lies in the fact that his "epiphany" is about human connection, about how we are linked in spite of the passage of time.

The old woman had wept, not because he could tell the story touchingly, but because Peter was near to her, because her whole being was interested in what was passing in Peter's soul.

He assumes he understands her reaction, and yet he has been unable to connect, interact, understand, or feel with either of the two women even though they are right in front of him.

Yes, there does appear to be a disconnect within this great "unbroken chain of events flowing one out of the other". He saw cause and effect from his telling of the story of yore ("he touched one end, and the other moved") but alas, he felt no human compassion that the effect was that of grief.

Upon relooking at this story, I see Ivan the student was initially thinking how the "same wind....leaky thatched roofs, ignorance and anguish, the same surrounding emptiness and darkness, the sense of oppression-all these horrors had been, and were, and would be, and when a thousand years had passed, life would be no better. And he did not want to go home.". So initially in the story, continuity oppressed him, yet at the end of the story when his telling of the story of Peter so affected the women, he felt a joy suddenly. Was it that he had effected it or rather that it was based upon human emotion? But regardless, it is a bit of ponderment that the reaction was one of grief that gave his heart a lift!

I re-read the story in light of recent comments, and here is what I saw.

The source for the student's joy is in knowing Christ. When we meet him we learn that he is a son of a sacristan and a student of the clerical academy. If in the original Russian he attends what we call a seminary, then he is studying to become a priest. He is making his life's mission to share the Gospel. He is fasting because it is Good Friday. Once he meets the women he does what naturally comes to him, share the Gospel of Good Friday. The parallels of the scene before him and of the courtyard where Peter had warmed himself over a fire are striking and impact him deeply. Once he leaves the women the joy that fills him is in having restored a part of the order and harmony of things. Before the encounter with the women he had noticed nature itself felt ill at ease.

We assume the widows to be destitute because of the previous paragraph, but it really doesn't say pertaining to them. The village and the garden are different places. The widows kept the garden. Who's garden?

I am reminded of the Russian custom of having dachas or country estates/ houses/cottages, originally bequeathed by the tsar to loyal vassals. Vasilisa had been in service of the gentry as a wet and children’s nurse, so her presence in the upkeep of a dacha makes sense, now that she no longer serves in her original capacity. This also explains the laborers watering the horses.

Ivan arrives when they just finished a meal over a campfire. Spiritually speaking this suggests they have no material needs. After some small talk we don't know the content of, he begins to share the day's Gospel. He links the scene before him with the events surrounding Christ's Passion. Peter denied Christ three times over that charcoal fire, the crisis of faith palpable. Both women respond in an emotional fashion. Their poverty, their hunger, is spiritual.

The connection between the Gospel story and the scene in the garden, Peter was near to her, because her whole being was interested in what was passing in Peter’s soul - is a crisis of faith. The joy Ivan experiences after this realization is that Peter’s crisis was only temporary.

Chekhov ends with pointing out Ivan’s youth and lack of life experience which can challenge a lofty moment like this in later years. What we know of Chekhov, his crisis of faith became permanent. Was he ill at ease?

Can anyone have a deeper crisis of faith than Peter who knew Christ himself?

My reading is that the student wants to connect the widows with their religious obligations more than he wants to connect with them personally. After observing that they have just finished supper on the strictest fasting day of the year, he immediately launches into the subject of Peter and his betrayal of Jesus. (There are a number of parallels between Chekhov's story and the gospel story, but that the widows don't recognize the student, as Peter does not "recognize" Jesus, is a nice touch.)

As a good Catholic boy, I learned that Good Friday is a day for suffering, and if there is any compassion it is to be had by sharing in the suffering of Jesus. The student is pretty successful in demonstrating this to the widows with his gospel story. Maybe it is an indication of his future success in the Church, but he doesn't take credit for his teaching -- he credits the unbroken chain of time. He may be mistaken in doing that though. He is only 22, as Chekhov tells us at the end.

Thanks, Kerstin. I really appreciate these comments.

Kerstin wrote: "The source for the student's joy is in knowing Christ. When we meet him we learn that he is a son of a sacristan and a student of the clerical academy."

But at the beginning of the story he is despondent, not full of joy? It seems to me that the source of his joy is the emotion he experiences at the end of the story.

After some small talk we don't know the content of, he begins to share the day's Gospel.

I just reread the story with your comments in mind and realized I completely missed two little words, "They talked." My first time through I just read the description of the two women without noticing those words so Ivan's sermon seemed to come out of left field for me. So I feel ready to give him a little more credit here. :-)

The connection between the Gospel story and the scene in the garden, Peter was near to her, because her whole being was interested in what was passing in Peter’s soul - is a crisis of faith. The joy Ivan experiences after this realization is that Peter’s crisis was only temporary.

But this is where the story strikes me as missing the mark. This is an assumption he made. Her daughter's face is crimson and pain is evidently, but we have absolutely no idea why. And Ivan doesn't take the time to find out. As you say, the women have a spiritual poverty of some kind. Ivan is of no help beyond exposing it.

That said, I like the point that the student experiences joy after realizing that Peter's crisis is temporary. It makes me think that perhaps he is not quite so self-centered and that he is also entertaining the hope that their crisis will be temporary as well. I would love an epiphany that led to action, though I suppose that is just a personal expectation I am projecting onto the story...

Sue wrote: "So initially in the story, continuity oppressed him, yet at the end of the story when his telling of the story of Peter so affected the women, he felt a joy suddenly."

You're right. At the beginning continuity oppressed him and at the end it uplifted him. I think you hit on one reason Chekhov saw the story as having a "concise perfection".

Maybe the student is despondent when the story starts because he has been hunting snipe on Good Friday, rather than doing something more spiritual.

Sue wrote: "My impression was that he felt joy from the realization of how sentient beings connect from shared feelings of the heart and sensations from nature not just temporally in the immediate but over the..."

Yes, this is how I read the story as well. I saw it as surprisingly hopeful for Chekhov and also surprisingly conclusive. Early in the story, when the student reflects that the cold and the poverty and the misery had existed in the past and would continue to exist in the future, I thought, yup, there's Chekhov again. So I was surprised at the "reversal" of that interconnectedness at the end of the story, when he is able to see it in a new, more hopeful light. I wondered less about why he was preaching to the women than about why Chekhov felt compelled to retell the entire story of Peter's betrayal of Jesus. It takes up a good percentage of the story. Would he have assumed that his readers didn't know the story well enough or at all and needed to be told? In other words, perhaps that storytelling device is a somewhat clumsy one put in there because the readers need it, and it has caused us to judge the character in an entirely unrelated way.

Kathy wrote: " I wondered less about why he was preaching to the women than about why Chekhov felt compelled to retell the entire story of Peter's betrayal of Jesus. ..."

Hmm, Chekhov made Good Friday about Peter, rather than about Jesus, didn't he?

Kathy, you got me ruminating on why storytellers embed one story within another. Shakespeare, of course, does it often with his plays within his plays.

Kathy wrote: "So I was surprised at the "reversal" of that interconnectedness at the end of the story, when he is able to see it in a new, more hopeful light. ."

I noticed that there are two Peters in the story -- Peter the Great, in the beginning, and Peter the apostle at the end. Perhaps that exemplifies the "reversal"?

The way the student tells his story appears to parallel Chekhov's story as a whole: the thrushes in the swamps mirror the cock crowing; the widows failing to recognize the student mirrors Peter's denial; Lukerya is beaten by her husband as Jesus is beaten by his tormentors (Lukerya drops her spoons and stares at the student when he relates this detail.) The laborers watering their horses at the river mirror the laborers who make a fire in the yard, near which Peter stands for warmth. "Peter too, stood with them near the fire and warmed himself as I am doing," the student says, allying himself with the apostle. And after their "last" supper, the widows suffer too.

The re-telling of Peter's story seems to serve a purpose within Chekhov's story, at the same time as it serves a purpose for the student. The widows hear the story in one context, and the readers of Chekhov's story see it in another. I love the way Chekhov structures this, making something fairly simple quite complex on reflection.

Patrice wrote: "i dont know anything about peter the great. i wonder if betrayal was part of his reign? the feeling of connectedness reminds me of this group. we read books that connect us as human beings, anyplac..."

I don't either, but he lumps Peter the Great in with Ivan the Terrible and Rurik, so I think they are supposed to personify the bad old days of poverty and desperation. Peter the apostle might suggest something more hopeful... or maybe there is no association between the two Peters at all and I'm just reading that into the story.

http://www.biography.com/people/peter...

There may be some clues about Peter the Great here -- besides a great leader for the "modernization" of Russia, tyrannical and cruel. Really don't know how to relate the info to the story.

There are many things in life that bring about joy.
One of them is realization of interconnectedness of everything in everything.
This realization may come to a person only occasionally, in flashes, especially after periods of gloom.
Those flashes suggest that we all are part of a much greater whole, but human language is way too small to express that greatness adequately in words.
And reversely, misery and anguish are always associated with separation, alienation, the running away of all things from each other.

Hunger and sudden cold got Ivan into a melancholic mood.
But Good Lord! What’s up there? A bonfire! He can get some warmth before he gets home. And the women near the fire are familiar to him. The day being a Good Friday and Ivan being a clerical student, he naturally and effortlessly strikes a small talk on the subject of the day and the situation at present.
And his story, the Gospel story, actually, revives the feeling of interconnectedness with the world for Ivan, after first being reflected in the faces of the women.

For me, this story is of value not for the plot (if there is any), but for the hint or evocation of something that have been happening to me in the past and reminded me of my personal connection to the world and life in general, which is perceived as a feeling, and as most feelings, is very hard to put in words directly. And hence, I like (indirect) storytellers as Chekhov. :)

I'm just wondering how one can reconcile the reaction of the two women--one of whom is in tears and the other whose facial expression is of "someone enduring intense pain"--with the theme of optimism, joy, and the interconnectedness of all sentient beings.

Tamara wrote: "I'm just wondering how one can reconcile the reaction of the two women--one of whom is in tears and the other whose facial expression is of "someone enduring intense pain"--with the theme of optimi..."

Maybe in the same way one can connect the crucifixion of Jesus to the joy of eternal salvation? Or perhaps it's better to say in the way that a seminary student might make that connection, particularly on Good Friday.

Thomas wrote: "Maybe in the same way one can connect the crucifixion of Jesus to the joy of eternal salvation? Or perhaps it is better to say ..."

Thomas, if I understand you correctly you are suggesting the student connects the pain expressed by the women with the suffering of Jesus which leads to the joy of salvation. I can accept the student makes that connection, although i must admit it strikes me as a bit callous of him not display any compassion for the pain of his fellow human beings--which is very different from the suffering of Jesus.
Are we to think the narrator endorses the student's epiphany? And what about Chekhov? I thought i read somewhere he rejected his Christian upbringing and became an atheist or agnostic. If so, would he believe the suffering of Jesus leads to eternal salvation? Or am I veering into the authorial intentional fallacy territory where we can never really trust the author's intentions regardless of what he says since his finished product may be interpreted in ways far removed from his intention?

I found these passages to be a relevant description of a more secular sense of joy the student may be feeling when he recalled the past being linked with the present.

But history is more than the record of individual men, however great: it is the province of history to tell the biography, not only of men, but of Man; to present the long procession of generations as but the passing thoughts of one continuous life; to transcend their blindness and brevity in the slow unfolding of the tremendous drama in which all play their part. In the migrations of races, in the birth and death of religions, in the rise and fall of empires, the unconscious units, without any purpose beyond the moment, have contributed unwittingly to the pageant of the ages; and, from the greatness of the whole, some breath of greatness breathes over all who participated in the march. . .

. . .And, as we grow in wisdom, the treasure-house of the ages opens to our view; more and more we learn to know and love the men through whose devotion all this wealth has become ours. Gradually, by the contemplation of great lives, a mystic communion becomes possible, filling the soul like music from an invisible choir. Still, out of the past, the voices of heroes call us. As, from a lofty promontory, the bell of an ancient cathedral, unchanged since the day when Dante returned from the kingdom of the dead, still sends its solemn warning across the waters, so their voice still sounds across the intervening sea of time; still, as then, its calm deep tones speak to the solitary tortures of cloistered aspiration, putting the serenity of things eternal in place of the doubtful struggle against ignoble joys and transient pleasures. Not by those about them were they heard; but they spoke to the winds of heaven, and the winds of heaven tell the tale to the great of later days. The great are not solitary; out of the night come the voices of those who have gone before, clear and courageous; and so through the ages they march, a mighty procession, proud, undaunted, unconquerable. To join in this glorious company, to swell the immortal paeon of those whom fate could not subdue— this may not be happiness; but what is happiness to those whose souls are filled with that celestial music? To them is given what is better than happiness: to know the fellowship of the great, to live in the inspiration of lofty thoughts, and to be illumined in every perplexity by the fire of nobility and truth. . .

. . .The past alone is truly real: the present is but a painful, struggling birth into the immutable being of what is no longer. Only the dead exist fully. The lives of the living are fragmentary, doubtful, and subject to change; but the lives of the dead are complete, free from the sway of Time, the all but omnipotent lord of the world. Their failures and successes, their hopes and fears, their joys and pains, have become eternal— our efforts cannot now abate one jot of them. Sorrows long buried in the grave, tragedies of which only a fading memory remains, loves immortalized by Death's hallowing touch— these have a power, a magic, an untroubled calm, to which no present can attain.

Russell, Bertrand. Philosophical Essays, II. On History. (p. 67-68). Taylor and Francis. Kindle Edition.

At least it is a little more optimistic than Ozymandias :)

I just read "Gooseberries." Ivan's speech in that story struck me as being very relevant to how I read this story:

And this order of things is evidently necessary; evidently the happy man only feels at ease because the unhappy bear their burdens in silence, and without that silence happiness would be impossible. It's a case of general hypnotism. There ought to be behind the door of every happy, contented man some one standing with a hammer continually reminding him with a tap that there are unhappy people . . . But there is no man with a hammer; the happy man lives at his ease, and trivial daily cares faintly agitate him like the wind in the aspen-tree -- and all goes well.

Patrice wrote: "i have t read gooseberries yetbut that excerpt is wonderful. it reminds me of when my belived father was dying in the hospital. of course the hospital is full of suffering people, many alone in the..."

Patrice, this is a beautiful and moving post. Thank you for sharing it.

When I flew back from England after attending my father's funeral, I walked around for days with a gut-wrenching hole in my stomach and in a state of shock at seeing life going on around me as if nothing had happened.

W.H. Auden has a beautiful poem in which he addresses this very topic by analyzing a painting by Brueghel. I hope you enjoy it.

http://english.emory.edu/classes/pain...

Tamara wrote: "Thomas wrote: "Maybe in the same way one can connect the crucifixion of Jesus to the joy of eternal salvation? Or perhaps it is better to say ..."

Thomas, if I understand you correctly you are sug..."

It's fair to say that the student is callous toward the widows, but why he is that way is not easy to say. Is it because the widows are women, or because they are peasants, or because they have broken the fast? I tend to think the latter because of the context of the story. The student is practicing his vocation. It doesn't seem to bother him, but maybe that's just his character -- callous -- in the same way Olenka is an empty vessel. I suspect that if Tolstoy had created these characters we would know exactly why they are the way they are, but Chekhov does not tell us.

As for Chekhov himself, whether he endorses the student's actions, I'm not sure. But it does seem that he wants to depict things the way he sees them rather than the way we should like them to be. If there is suffering, then there is suffering.

Callousness? Seems to me completely brought to the story off the wall.
The student tells a story from the Gospel. A story about human weakness, limitations of man’s will. And it’s a story about a betrayal. A betrayal of God by a man, a man who thought he loved Jesus more than anything else in life. And maybe some painful memories of their personal lives came to the women, evoked by the story. But there might be hope in the end. If even St Peter sinned so horribly (yet unintentionally! He was only human after all)… But God forgave, and built the Church on him…

And maybe it was all about the Good Friday and the fast. We don't know.

My point is: Could it not be too callous from US to expect much more than just sharing a story and enjoying life how he perceives it within his own thoughts from a 22 year old man?

I've actually thought about this before. I was moved by a piece written by a hospice nurse a few years ago about the regrets dying people most often expressed to her. The one that struck me the most was that so many people said they wished they had allowed themselves to feel more joy. Robin Roberts, the NBC morning host whose cancer is in remission, said the same thing in an interview shortly after she returned to work. I don't think we're under an obligation to constantly be thinking of others who are suffering; our turn will come soon enough. On those rare occasions when the world gives us joy, we should embrace it. That doesn't mean trampling over others to grab it (so I'm not necessarily talking about the student's behavior in this story, though I'm not sure). And it doesn't mean ignoring the suffering of others. But it does mean accepting joy when it comes to us. Sorry to wax philosophical, but it's something, as I said, that I have actually thought about quite a bit.

Thomas wrote: "The re-telling of Peter's story seems to serve a purpose within Chekhov's story, at the same time as it serves a purpose for the student. The widows hear the story in one context, and the readers of Chekhov's story see it in another. I love the way Chekhov structures this, making something fairly simple quite complex on reflection."

Great point, Thomas. I hadn't noticed some of those parallels. And maybe Chekhov has to retell the story not because he assumes his readers don't know it well enough, but rather because he has to tell it in a particular way so that it will resonate with the story's current events.

I think I was too harsh in msg 54. I apologize. If I want to be consistent, I have to admit that the interpretation suggesting callousness on Ivan's part does not contradict the text, so it’s legitimate. It feels forced to me. But who am I?
But, let’s assume for a moment two things: a) that Chekhov’s own interpretation was just that or similar to Ivan’s attitude toward the women being callous, and b) the fact that Chekhov called this story the most optimistic of his. That way, wouldn’t it be obvious that Chekhov had his tongue deep in cheek saying that?
And I, actually, would buy that. Chekhov an optimist? Naa..

Kathy wrote: "I've actually thought about this before. I was moved by a piece written by a hospice nurse a few years ago about the regrets dying people most often expressed to her. The one that struck me the mos..."

I think the opposition of the social and individual in us is a foundation of stability of the human being. (How not to recall Sartre’s ‘being-for-itself’ and ‘being-for-others’ motif). Degeneration of either side of the equilibrium would be catastrophic and render us unhuman. Is a society consisting exclusively of sociopaths imaginable? Maybe some animals are that way. Or a society of pure altruists? Nobody would want to be acted altruistically upon there. That would be too selfish. Maybe ants and bees are that way?
(Sorry for being even more philosophical here.)

Bigollo, I don't think your msg 54 was too harsh at all. Frankly I rather agree. He is only 22. Do writers of tragedy feel the need to console those who weep from reading their work or rather do they more likely feel a sense of satisfaction that they touched the reader in some fashion....moved their emotion: produced a good cry or what not, a wet eye, a remorseful look. Of course, Ivan is indeed is a seminary student and as such, may be expected to have that compassion toward the soul. But somehow I did not feel it unduly odd he did not react to the widow's reactions in some overt compassionate manner but rather walked away and then reflected how stories over time can still touch the soul today. Indeed it can be argued that there was a certain disconnect between the student and the widows. Perhaps it is a bit of intended irony. Pevear, in his introduction to Chekhov's story stories, writes on the subject: "The student's thoughts are given only the slightest shade of irony, just enough to call his youthful 'anticipation of happiness, an unknown, mysterious happiness' into question without demolishing it. The happiness remains, along with the tears of Peter and of the two women, along with the cold wind, the surrounding darkness, and the promise of Easter. 'In his revelation of these evangelical elements, ' writes Leonid Grossman, 'the atheist Chekhov is unquestionably one of the most Christian poets of World literature." And as Pevear also writes, "In fact , contradiction runs deep in Chekhov's nature". As you wrote, Bigolo, indeed, Chekhov may have been quite aware of this contradiction and wrote it with a glinted eye.