Your statement that the world is "teeming with villains and villainesses" is true. Human nature is imperfect, so it would be odd to perceive none but the righteous. Requiring literature to dig up a "pearl" from the pack of villains is tantamount to negating literature altogether. Literature is accepted as an art because it depicts life as it actually is. Its aim is the truth, unconditional and honest. Limiting its functions to as narrow a field as extracting "pearls" would be as deadly for art as requiring Levitan to draw a tree without any dirty bark or yellowed leaves. A "pearl" is a fine thing, I agree. But the writer is not a pastry chef, he is not a cosmetician and not an entertainer. He is a man bound by contract to his sense of duty and to his conscience. Once he undertakes this task, it is too late for excuses, and no matter how horrified, he must do battle with his squeamishness and sully his imagination with the grime of life. He is just like any ordinary reporter. What would you say if a newspaper reporter as a result of squeamishness or a desire to please his readers were to limit his descriptions to honest city fathers, high-minded ladies, and virtuous railroadmen?
To a chemist there is nothing impure on earth. The writer should be just as objective as the chemist; he should liberate himself from everyday subjectivity and acknowledge that manure piles play a highly respectable role in the landscape and that evil passions are every bit as much a part of life as good ones.
— Letter to Maria Kiselyova, January 14, 1887
I'm glad you lied.
ReplyDeleteIt's beautiful.
I can't wait to read this. It's a late afternoon post!
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing. I suspect Flannery O'Connor would agree.
ReplyDeleteThese words are inspiring. I love Chekhov.
ReplyDeleteWhat would you say if a newspaper reporter as a result of squeamishness or a desire to please his readers were to limit his descriptions
ReplyDeleteI'd say he works for MSNBC.
Wonderful! Everyone knows that a pile of manure turn the garden fruitful and villians are much more fun to read about than virtuous people. Now I'm off to get dirty.
ReplyDeleteWonderful! Everyone knows that a pile of manure turn the garden fruitful and villians are much more fun to read about than virtuous people. Now I'm off to get dirty.
ReplyDeletegreat post! more Chekhov please!!!
ReplyDeleteI agree with this very much.
ReplyDeleteI pause to play devil's advocate. What if Chekhov is wrong? What if the primary use of literature for readers is to escape from the "grime of life?" What if the only people who really hold up Serious Literature of Social Realism as culturally valuable are those people (like me) who don't necessarily struggle much in the grime of life, and we artists are really just sort of bullying emotional tourists? Maybe Literature dabbles in what might be called "First-World Problems," which are really just the luxuriating of the middle class in their own ennui? That is to say, is "Remembrances of Things Past" (or whatever masterpiece) really any different from a video of the Indy 500 except that folks with money and pretensions of high-mindedness declare one art and the other entertainment? What if my beloved Chekhov is just full of that manure he's so proud of?
ReplyDeleteTo me, this is a preference, not a rule by any means. Trying to capture reality (however one sees that) is no more meaningful (in Davin's List Of Meaningful Things) as wanting to show off pearls. As for the first-world problem argument, while I do think that art was born as a result of people no longer needing to devote 23 hours and 56 minutes of every day to making sure they stay alive, I consider the problems I write about to be just as valid as anyone else's. I do take it on as my job to really get to know the grime of life, even if I'm not living it every day myself. I go on dark excursions as my courage allows me.
ReplyDeleteDavin, I quite agree with you that it's preference rather than necessity. I also agree with you that the grim reality of the first world is just as real and true as the grim realities of the third world. Not as life-threatening, surely, but just as real. I just thought I'd try to have a balanced discussion. Or something. Have I mentioned that I've had the flu for the last five days and I'm still not thinking clearly? It's true!
ReplyDeleteScott! Flu! That sucks. No, you didn't mention it. I hate the flu. I always feel like I'm dying.
ReplyDeleteOh, and btw, I totally understood that you were just discussing for discussion's sake.
ReplyDeleteGreat letter, thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteXoxo
I totally agree with Chekhov. I appreciate stories that reflect reality, stories that expose it and make fun of it or ridicule it or inspire reflections. Those stories help to escape from reality as well, but they also help us process it and digest it and give us hope to change situations for the better. There are writers out there who disagree and believe that literature is about fantasy and escaping reality. Well, we are all different, but I share Chekhov's ideas and inspiration.
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