Note-Book of Anton Chekhov

by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov

  * * * * *

  As stupid as a gray gelding.

  * * * * *

  They teased the girl with castor oil, and therefore she did not marry.

  * * * * *

  N. all his life used to write abusive letters to famous singers, actors, and authors: "You think, you scamp,…"—without signing his name.

  * * * * *

  When the man who carried the torch at funerals came out in his three-cornered hat, his frock coat with laces and stripes, she fell in love with him.

  * * * * *

  A sparkling, joyous nature, a kind of living protest against grumblers; he is fat and healthy, eats a great deal, every one likes him but only because they are afraid of the grumblers; he is a nobody, a Ham, only eats and laughs loud, and that's all; when he dies, every one sees that he had done nothing, that they had mistaken him for some one else.

  * * * * *

  After the inspection of the building, the Commission, which was bribed, lunched heartily, and it was precisely a funeral feast over honesty.

  * * * * *

  He who tells lies is dirty.

  * * * * *

  At three o'clock in the morning they wake him: he has to go to his job at the railway station, and so every day for the last fourteen years.

  * * * * *

  A lady grumbles: "I write to my son that he should change his linen

  every Saturday. He replies: 'Why Saturday, not Monday?' I answer:

  'Well, all right, let it be Monday.' And he: 'Why Monday, not

  Tuesday?' He is a nice honest man, but I get worried by him."

  * * * * *

  A clever man loves learning but is a fool at teaching.

  * * * * *

  The sermons of priests, archimandrites, and bishops are wonderfully like one another.

  * * * * *

  One remembers the arguments about the brotherhood of man, public good, and work for the people, but really there were no such arguments, one only drank at the University. They write: "One feels ashamed of the men with University degrees who once fought for human rights and freedom of religion and conscience"—but they never fought.

  * * * * *

  Every day after dinner the husband threatens his wife that he will become a monk, and the wife cries.

  * * * * *

  Mordokhvostov.

  * * * * *

  Husband and wife have lived together and quarreled for eighteen years. At last he makes a confession, which was in fact untrue, of having been false to her, and they part to his great pleasure and to the wrath of the whole town.

  * * * * *

  A useless thing, an album with forgotten, uninteresting photographs, lies in the corner on a chair; it has been lying there for the last twenty years and no one makes up his mind to throw it away.

  * * * * *

  N. tells how forty years ago X., a wonderful and extraordinary man, had saved the lives of five people, and N. feels it strange that every one listened with indifference, that the history of X. is already forgotten, uninteresting….

  * * * * *

  They fell upon the soft caviare greedily, and devoured it in a minute.

  * * * * *

  In the middle of a serious conversation he says to his little son:

  "Button up your trousers."

  * * * * *

  Man will only become better when you make him see what he is like.

  * * * * *

  Dove-colored face.

  * * * * *

  The squire feeds his pigeons, canaries, and fowls on pepper, acids, and all kinds of rubbish in order that the birds may change their color—and that is his sole occupation: he boasts of it to every visitor.

  * * * * *

  They invited a famous singer to recite the Acts of the Apostles at the wedding; he recited it, but they have not paid his fee.

  * * * * *

  For a farce: I have a friend by name Krivomordy (crooked face) and he's all right. Not crooked leg or crooked arm but crooked face: he was married and his wife loved him.

  * * * * *

  N. drank milk every day, and every time he put a fly in the glass and then, with the air of a victim, asked the old butler: "What's that?" He could not live a single day without that.

  * * * * *

  She is surly and smells of a vapor bath.

  * * * * *

  N. learned of his wife's adultery. He is indignant, distressed, but hesitates and keeps silent. He keeps silence and ends by borrowing money from Z., the lover, and continues to consider himself an honest man.

  * * * * *

  When I stop drinking tea and eating bread and butter, I say: "I have had enough." But when I stop reading poems or novels, I say: "No more of that, no more of that."

  * * * * *

  A solicitor lends money at a high rate of interest, and justifies himself because he is leaving everything to the University of Moscow.

  * * * * *

  A little sexton, with radical views: "Nowadays our fellows crawl out from all sorts of unexpected holes."

  * * * * *

  The squire N. always quarrels with his neighbors who are Molokans[1]; he goes to court, abuses and curses them; but when at last they leave, he feels there is an empty place; he ages rapidly and pines away.

  [Footnote 1: Molokans are a religious sect in Russia.]

  * * * * *

  Mordukhanov.

  * * * * *

  With N. and his wife there lives the wife's brother, a lachrymose young man who at one time steals, at another tells lies, at another attempts suicide; N. and his wife do not know what to do, they are afraid to turn him out because he might kill himself; they would like to turn him out, but they do not know how to manage it. For forging a bill he gets into prison, and N. and his wife feel that they are to blame; they cry, grieve. She died from grief; he too died some time later and everything was left to the brother who squandered it and got into prison again.

  * * * * *

  Suppose I had to marry a woman and live in her house, I would run away in two days, but a woman gets used so quickly to her husband's house, as though she had been born there.

  * * * * *

  Well, you are a Councillor; but whom do you counsel? God forbid that any one should listen to your counsels.

  * * * * *

  The little town of Torjok. A sitting of the town council. Subject: the raising of the rates. Decision: to invite the Pope to settle down in Torjok—to choose it as his residence.

  * * * * *

  S.'s logic: I am for religious toleration, but against religious freedom; one cannot allow what is not in the strict sense orthodox.

  * * * * *

  St. Piony and Epinach. ii March, Pupli 13 m.

  * * * * *

  Poetry and works of art contain not what is needed but what people desire; they do not go further than the crowd and they express only what the best in the crowd desire.

  * * * * *

  A little man is very cautious; he sends even letters of congratulation by registered post in order to get a receipt.

  * * * * *

  Russia is an enormous plain across which wander mischievous men.

  * * * * *

  Platonida Ivanovna.

  * * * * *

  If you are politically sound, that is enough for you to be considered a perfectly satisfactory citizen; the same thing with radicals, to be politically unsound is enough, everything else will be ignored.

  * * * * *

  A man who when he fails opens his eyes wide.

  * * * * *

  Ziuzikov.

  * * * * *

  A Councillor of State, a respectable man; it suddenly comes out that he has secretly kept a brothel.

  * * * * *

  N. has written a good play; no one praises him or is pleased; they all say: "We'll see what you write next."

  * * * * *

  The more important people came in by the front door, the simple folk by the back door.

  * *
* * *

  He: "And in our town there lived a man whose name was Kishmish (raisin). He called himself Kishmish, but every one knew that he was Kishmish."

  She (after some thought): "How annoying … if only his name had been

  Sultana, but Kishmish!…"

  * * * * *

  Blagovospitanny.

  * * * * *

  Most honored Iv-Iv-itch!

  * * * * *

  How intolerable people are sometimes who are happy and successful in everything.

  * * * * *

  They begin gossiping that N. is living with Z.; little by little an atmosphere is created in which a liaison of N. and Z. becomes inevitable.

  * * * * *

  When the locust was a plague, I wrote against the locust and enchanted every one, I was rich and famous; but now, when the locust has long ago disappeared and is forgotten, I am merged in the crowd, forgotten, and not wanted.

  * * * * *

  Merrily, joyfully: "I have the honor to introduce you to Iv. Iv.

  Izgoyev, my wife's lover."

  * * * * *

  Everywhere on the estate are notices: "Trespassers will be prosecuted," "Keep off the flowers," etc.

  * * * * *

  In the great house is a fine library which is talked about but is never used; they give you watery coffee which you cannot drink; the garden is tasteless with no flowers in it—and they pretend that all this is something Tolstoian.

  * * * * *

  He learnt Swedish in order to study Ibsen, spent a lot of time and trouble, and suddenly realized that Ibsen is not important; he could not conceive what use he could now make of the Swedish language.[1]

  [Footnote 1: Ibsen wrote in Norwegian of course. Responding to a request for his interpretation of this curious paragraph. Mr. Koteliansky writes:

  "Chekhov had a very high opinion of Ibsen; the paragraph, I am sure, is by no means aimed at Ibsen. Most probably the paragraph, as well as many others in the Notes, is something which C. either personally or indirectly heard someone say. You will see that Kuprin ["Reminiscences of Chekhov," by Gorky, Kuprin and Bunin, New York: Huebsch.] told C. the anecdote about the actor whose wife asked him to whistle a melody on the stage during a rehearsal. In C.'s Notes you have that anecdote, somewhat shortened and the names changed, without mentioning the source."

  "The reader, on the whole, may puzzle his head over many paragraphs in the Notes, but he will hardly find explanations each time. What the reader has to remember is that the Notes are material used by C. in his creative activity and as such it throws a great deal of light on C.'s mentality and process of working."]

  * * * * *

  N. makes a living by exterminating bugs; and for the purposes of his trade he reads the works of ——. If in "The Cossacks," bugs are not mentioned, it means that "The Cossacks" is a bad book.

  * * * * *

  Man is what he believes.

  * * * * *

  A clever girl: "I cannot pretend … I never tell a lie … I have principles"—and all the time "I … I … I …"

  * * * * *

  N. is angry with his wife who is an actress, and without her knowledge gets abusive criticisms published about her in the newspapers.

  * * * * *

  A nobleman boasts "This house of mine was built in the time of Dmitry

  Donskoy."

  * * * * *

  "Your Worship, he called my dog a bad name: 'son of a bitch.'"

  * * * * *

  The snow fell and did not lie on the ground reddened with blood.

  * * * * *

  He left everything to charity, so that nothing should go to his relations and children, whom he hated.

  * * * * *

  A very amorous man; he is no sooner introduced to a girl than he becomes a he-goat.

  * * * * *

  A nobleman Drekoliev.

  * * * * *

  I dread the idea that a chamberlain will be present at the opening of my petition.

  * * * * *

  He was a rationalist, but he had to confess that he liked the ringing of church bells.

  * * * * *

  The father a famous general, nice pictures, expensive furniture; he died; the daughters received a good education, but are slovenly, read little, ride, and are dull.

  * * * * *

  They are honest and truthful so long as it is unnecessary.

  * * * * *

  A rich merchant would like to have a shower bath in his W.C.

  * * * * *

  In the early morning they ate okroshka.[1]

  [Footnote 1: A cold dish composed of cider and hash.]

  * * * * *

  "If you lose this talisman," said grandmother, "you will die." And suddenly I lost it, tortured myself, was afraid that I would die. And now, imagine, a miracle happened: I found it and continued to live.

  * * * * *

  Everybody goes to the theatre to see my play, to learn something instantly from it, to make some sort of profit, and I tell you: I have not the time to bother about that canaille.

  * * * * *

  The people hate and despise everything new and useful; when there was cholera, they hated and killed the doctors and they love vodka; by the people's love or hatred one can estimate the value of what they love or hate.

  * * * * *

  Looking out of the window at the corpse which is being borne to the cemetery: "You are dead, you are being carried to the cemetery, and I will go and have my breakfast."

  * * * * *

  A Tchech Vtitchka.

  * * * * *

  A man, forty years old, married a girl of twenty-two who read only the very latest writers, wore green ribbons, slept on yellow pillows, and believed in her taste and her opinions as if they were law; she is nice, not silly, and gentle, but he separates from her.

  * * * * *

  When one longs for a drink, it seems as though one could drink a whole ocean—that is faith; but when one begins to drink, one can only drink altogether two glasses—that is science.

  * * * * *

  For a farce: Fildekosov, Poprygunov.

  * * * * *

  In former times a nice man, with principles, who wanted to be respected, would try to become a general or priest, but now he goes in for being a writer, professor….

  * * * * *

  There is nothing which history will not justify.

  * * * * *

  Zievoulia.[1]

  [Footnote 1: A name or word invented by Chekhov meaning "One who yawns for a long time with pleasure."]

  * * * * *

  The crying of a nice child is ugly; so in bad verses you may recognize that the author is a nice man.

  * * * * *

  If you wish women to love you, be original; I know a man who used to wear felt boots summer and winter, and women fell in love with him.

  * * * * *

  I arrive at Yalta. Every room is engaged. I go to the "Italy"—not a room available. "What about my room number 35"—"It is engaged." A lady. They say: "Would you like to stay with this lady? The lady has no objection." I stay in her room. Conversation. Evening. The Tartar guide comes in. My ears are stopped, my eyes blindfolded; I sit and see nothing and hear nothing….

  * * * * *

  A young lady complains: "My poor brother gets such a small salary—only seven thousand!"

  * * * * *

  She: "I see only one thing now: you have a large mouth! A large mouth!

  An enormous mouth!"

  * * * * *

  The horse is a useless and pernicious animal; a great deal of land has to be tilled for it, it accustoms man not to employ his own muscles, it is often an object of luxury; it makes man effeminate. For the future not a single horse.

  * * * * *

  N. a singer; speaks to nobody, his throat muffled up—he takes care of his voice, but no one has ever heard him sing.

  * * * * *

  About absolutely everything: "What's the good of that? It's useless!"

>   * * * * *

  He wears felt boots summer and winter and gives this explanation: "It's better for the head, because the blood, owing to the heat, is drawn down into the feet, and the thoughts are clearer."

  * * * * *

  A woman is jocularly called Fiodor Ivanovitch.

  * * * * *

  A farce: N., in order to marry, greased the bald patch on his head with an ointment which he read of in an advertisement, and suddenly there began to grow on his head pig's bristles.

  * * * * *

  What does your husband do?—He takes castor oil.

  * * * * *

  A girl writes: "We shall live intolerably near you."

  * * * * *

  N. has been for long in love with Z. who married X.; two years after the marriage Z. comes to N., cries, wishes to tell him something; N. expects to hear her complain against her husband; but it turns out that Z. has come to tell of her love for K.

  * * * * *

  N. a well known lawyer in Moscow; Z., who like N. was born in Taganrog, comes to Moscow and goes to see the celebrity; he is received warmly, but he remembers the school to which they both went, remembers how N. looked in his uniform, becomes agitated by envy, sees that N.'s flat is in bad taste, that N. himself talks a great deal; and he leaves disenchanted by envy and by the meanness which before he did not even suspect was in him.

  * * * * *

  The title of a play: The Bat.

  * * * * *

  Everything which the old cannot enjoy is forbidden or considered wrong.

  * * * * *

  When he was getting on in years, he married a very young girl, and so she faded and withered away with him.

  * * * * *

  All his life he wrote about capitalism and millions, and he had never had any money.

  * * * * *

  A young lady fell in love with a handsome constable.

  * * * * *

  N. was a very good, fashionable tailor; but he was spoiled and ruined by trifles; at one time he made an overcoat without pockets, at another a collar which was much too high.