Read the instructor’s introduction<\/a> During Anton Chekhov\u2019s time, nineteenth century Russian literature often followed common formulaic literary techniques, which created a logical development of thought that moved towards a larger idea. Literary critic Alexander Chudakov notes in his \u201cRandomness: Chekhov\u2019s Incidental Detail\u201d that these larger ideas would, more often than not, belong to an abstract and \u201chigh spiritual plane [that] does not permit the intrusion of material things\u201d (554). Chekhov, on the other hand, breaks many of these formulated rules, creating \u201ca totally different method\u201d (Chudakov 551) of writing, in which his \u201cportrayal of the spiritual world is frequently interrupted by representations of the tangible world\u201d (Chudakov 555). This can especially be seen in one of the author\u2019s more mature works, \u201cThe Lady with the Little Dog,\u201d in which Chekhov often creates a juxtaposition between the material and the abstract in order to question whether ideas such as spirituality and love are only\u2014as they are commonly portrayed in literature\u2014responses to a higher abstract sphere, or also\u2014as Chekhov suggests\u2014sense-based reactions to the more immediate tangible world. John Hagan\u2019s \u201cChekhov\u2019s Fiction and the Ideal of \u2018Objectivity\u2019\u201d claims that Chekhov believed it was a writer\u2019s duty to maintain an \u201cartist\u2019s impartiality and disinterestedness\u201d (411) towards external views and conventions when presenting such questions. Therefore, Chekhov uses this juxtaposition in \u201cThe Lady with the Little Dog\u201d as an opportunity to suggest that intimate ideas like spirituality and love should not be solely defined by their conventional meanings or codified by their societal constructions, but interpreted though a more private and personal meaning that is relative to the individual, making Chekhov revolutionary in not only his innovative literary style, but also his redefinition of the purpose of literature.<\/p>\n Chekhov\u2019s, \u201cThe Lady with the Little Dog\u201d follows an initially fleeting relationship between two married people, Anna Sergeevna and Dmitri Dmitritch Gurov, which later turns into a painful and difficult affair, ending with the realization that the two characters are in love with each other. In an artistic situation like this, in which characters experience a dynamic process of realization and change, they are also, at a literary level, undergoing a process of characterization. Chudakov states that in order to communicate this, authors use select tangible details in their texts that can serve as \u201creliable and expedient means of characterization\u201d (551). However, this is not the case in Chekhov\u2019s writing. Chekhov\u2019s details throughout Anna and Gurov\u2019s transformation do not clarify the personality of the hero; they have no \u201ccharacterological\u201d (Chudakov 551) significance. Take the scene before Anna and Gurov\u2019s reunion in a provincial theatre:<\/p>\n A haze hung over the chandeliers, the gallery stirred noisily; the local dandies stood in the front row before the performance started, their hands behind their backs; and here, too, in the governor\u2019s box, the governor\u2019s daughter sat in front, wearing a boa, while the governor himself modestly behind the porti\u00e8re, and only his hands could be seen. (Chekhov 372)<\/p>\n What is the significance behind repetitive images of hands, or a particular accessory of the governor\u2019s daughter\u2019s evening dress? The purpose and meaning of these details have no direct connection to the characters, events or development of action. In fact, because these details do not appear to be obligatory, \u201cthe link in characterization within the fabula<\/em> chain would not be harmed\u201d (Chudakov 552) if we were to remove them entirely from the text. They are what Chekhov\u2019s critics would call \u201csenseless and unnecessary\u201d (Chudakov 555) details. However, Chudakov argues that these details are only \u201cunnecessary\u201d from the viewpoint of non-Chekovian principles, and are otherwise \u201cimportant and obligatory\u201d (554) to Chekhov\u2019s new method.<\/p>\n This new method does not follow \u201ccharacterological goals\u201d (Chudakov 552), but rather attempts to advance the viewpoint of the character as an observer. Pre-Chekhovian methods of writing that attempt to use motivated, not random, details as a means to develop these \u201ccharacterological goals\u201d often lead to characters becoming associated with certain ideas. Characters become symbols that act as comments on the author and the reader\u2019s world, outside of the immediate text and outside the character\u2019s world. This is the very reason why Chekhov disperses random details throughout his text. They eliminate the possibility of his characters becoming symbols and endorsements of external ideologies, and allow these characters to act as mere observers and individuals within the constructions of their own world. Therefore, Chekhov allows his characters the ability to express their emotions and comment on the abstract and spiritual world, but also\u2014unlike his literary contemporaries such as Tolstoy and Dostoevsky\u2014allows his characters\u2019 experience with the spiritual world to be interrupted by their observations of their more immediate and tangible environment\u2014men with \u201chands behind their backs,\u201d or a \u201cboa\u201d around a woman\u2019s neck, if you will (Chekhov 372). When viewed through a non-Chekhovian function of description, such interruptions may, therefore, seem random and unnecessary against the background of a logical discussion, but are otherwise imperative to Chekhov\u2019s intentions\u2014to afford his characters the opportunity to be mere ordinary individuals who experience everything that exists within a person and observe everything that surrounds them, both spiritual and material. He does not try to convey a logical and \u201ccontinuous flow of thought\u201d (Chudakov 555) through motivated details, as this does not accurately represent an individual\u2019s thought process, but a logical development that advances the author\u2019s personal ideologies.<\/p>\n This is why Chekhov does not restrict his details to the direct dialogue or scene in which they are present, but instead associates them with a larger connection to the character\u2019s overall experience and emotions at that moment. Because of this, Chekhov\u2019s works are not, unlike non-Chekhovian literature, \u201cdirected toward its own semantic center\u201d (Chudakov 555). By using random and unnecessary details that create \u201can element of chaos in an otherwise harmonious system of motivated details\u201d (Chudakov 553), Chekhov\u2019s images and details shoot out of orbit instead of creating a centripetal progression of thought. In other words, or in those of John Hagan\u2019s, it is a refusal to make one\u2019s works \u201can organ for the propaganda of any sect or party\u201d (411).<\/p>\n Unlike his contemporaries, \u201cChekhov remained notably aloof during this early period [the nineteenth century] from the various kinds of revolutionary ferment\u201d (Hagan 411) that influenced many of his fellow writers. These other writers believed it was their social and literary duty to use their works as \u201ctrademarks or labels\u201d (Hagan 411). In other words, the purpose of such works was to advance the competing political and social agendas of, say, liberals, conservatives, evolutionists, etc. However, this wasn\u2019t the case for Chekhov. Chekhov believed that an artist must display a kind of impartiality and disinterestedness towards these external ideas. This does not mean \u201cthe artist should suppress his personal feelings and attitudes\u201d; instead, he should \u201ctreat his subject with perfect neutrality\u201d (Hagan 412). By doing so, Chekhov is not presenting his works as an endorsement of ideas from a group ideology, but as an honest and faithful representation of \u201cthings as they really are\u201d (Hagan 412).<\/p>\n Chekhov\u2019s rejection of external ideologies and conventions is easily seen in his unique treatment of spirituality. Authors like Tolstoy, for example, used numerous religious symbols and \u201cdetails [that] give meaning to the whole story\u201d (Chudakov 555). However, this meaning is often driven by ideas of religion and Christian ideals; it endorses ideas from Christianity. Chekhov, on the other hand, often uses similar religious images and dialogue in order to stir the reader\u2019s mind\u2014a mind that has been conditioned by literature like that of Tolstoy\u2014to expect these details to carry a religiously symbolic meaning. One night, during the beginning of Anna and Gurov\u2019s affair, the two lovers decide to take a late night drive to Oreanda, where \u201cthey sat on a bench not far from church\u201d (Chekhov 366). Here, Chekhov introduces the image of a church, which, in works of Tolstoy or non-Chekhovian literature, would normally be used as a religious symbol. Perhaps it would serve as a juxtaposition between the morality of religion and the immorality of two adulterous lovers. Yet Chekhov does not use this image in a religious way. Instead of employing the image of the church as an opportunity to digress into discussions about religion, morality and spirituality, the narrator instead continues to comment on more descriptive observations of the tangible world, making no reference to ideas of religion or Christian beliefs. He notes the \u201cwhite clouds\u201d hovering above mountaintops, and the \u201cdull noise of the sea\u201d from below (Chekhov 366)\u2014random but tangible details that drive the meaning of this image away from any kind of religious symbolism or semantic center. Ironically, Chekhov uses a traditionally religious symbol not to associate this scene with the higher spiritual plane of religion, but to draw attention to the more immediate, literal and tangible world. Hence, though the church carries symbolic potential to be a sign of Christianity or religion, Chekhov does not treat it as a religious symbol; to Chekhov, the church just so happens to be a building near to which two lovers sit silently. This is the honest and literal representation of things that Hagan was referring to.<\/p>\n Yet there must be a motivation for Chekhov to purposely lure his readers into anticipating a discussion on religion through associated religious images in the text. This motivation is to raise questions on how we define spirituality. Take, for example, the contrasting spiritual rhetoric of Anna and Gurov. Anna, who believes her affair has turned her into a \u201ctrite, trashy woman\u201d (Chekhov 366), often uses religious interjections\u2014such as \u201cGod forgive me\u201d (Chekhov 365), \u201cI swear to God\u201d (Chekhov 366), and \u201cI adjure you by all that\u2019s holy\u201d (Chekhov 373)\u2014to express a desire for moral redemption. Hence, Anna\u2019s connection to her spiritualty is through religion. Gurov, on the other hand, often criticizes this. In a scene where Anna uses such religious rhetoric, Gurov remarks: \u201c\u2018It\u2019s like you\u2019re justifying yourself\u2019\u201d (Chekhov 365). This suggests that Anna uses religion as a justification for her actions. She considers her religious speech and rhetoric an absolution of her sins. Hence, Gurov is implying that Anna relies on religion to find her path to salvation, without creating her own relationship with her spirituality. She uses religion as means for, as Hagan calls it, \u201ceasy moralism\u201d (412). This is quite a contrast to Gurov\u2019s connection with his spirituality. Gurov, unlike Anna, does not depend on religious stimulation to engage with the spiritual world, but rather a tangible stimulation. This can be seen during the scene at Oreanda. As Gurov and Anna look down on the sea, Gurov observes the motionless \u201cleaves of the trees\u201d and the foggy haze of \u201cmorning mist\u201d (Chekhov 366). And he notes that in this unceasing perfection of life on earth \u201cperhaps lies hidden the pledge of our eternal salvation\u201d (Chekhov 367). Hence, Gurov uses his senses to not only see the tangible world, but to also engage with larger spiritual ideas.<\/p>\n Chekhov raises similar questions when he deals with ideas of love. Like he does with the definition of spirituality, he questions whether love should only be seen as a response to the incomprehensible abstract world, or also a reaction to the material and more immediate world before us. For example, once Gurov and Anna\u2019s affair starts to become less of a tempting and \u201cfleeting liaison\u201d (Chekhov 362), and more of a serious and passionate relationship, Gurov notes that Anna \u201cseemed to transform him\u201d (Chekhov 367). But what transformed him\u2014\u201cthe heat,\u201d \u201cthe cascade,\u201d or the \u201csmell of the sea\u201d (Chekhov 367)? It seems that Gurov\u2019s stimulation for developing feelings towards Anna was through impressions of the physical and tangible world around him. This turns conventional ideas of love on its head, as Chekhov is suggesting\u2014as he has done with the idea of spirituality\u2014that love is not merely a spiritual transcendence, but also a change stimulated and inspired by the senses.<\/p>\n This can lead readers to a common misreading that Gurov and Anna were never really in love. After the two parted ways in Yalta, they were left with only memories and thoughts of the other, which unintentionally fueled their nascent and undeveloped feelings into what they believed was love. This is usually the source of such objections. Anna and Gurov\u2019s relationship was inspired by impressions of the tangible world and intensified by mere memories and recollections. Because this relationship was not based on a more conventionally accepted idea of a deep, spiritual connection, but is instead built upon what would be called the trivial and transitory nature of raw human senses and perceptions, many readers assume that their relationship was not love, but something more superficial\u2014a tempting, romanticized idea of love. And although I consider this a misunderstanding of Anna and Gurov\u2019s relationship as well as a misunderstanding of Chekhov\u2019s message, there is a degree of truth in this claim that I agree with.<\/p>\n After Gurov returns to Moscow, he states how he cannot forget Anna: \u201cYet everything was as clear in his memory as if he had parted with Anna Segreevna only the day before\u201d (Chekhov 369). But everything was not \u201cclear\u201d; his memories of Anna are but romanticized imaginations. In these memories, Anna \u201cseemed younger, more<\/em> beautiful, more<\/em> tender\u201d (Chekhov 369), more than what she actually was. Anna herself claims that she \u201clived by my thoughts of you [Gurov]\u201d (373). Hence, I agree that Gurov and Anna\u2019s love was a product of their imagination. Yet this does not mean they were not in love. Gurov acknowledges that \u201che thought and dreamed\u201d (Chekhov 372) of his love for Anna, but \u201cAnna Sergeevna was not a dream\u201d (369), and nor was their love. Perhaps they lived by a love \u201ctheir imagination had created\u201d (375). But why should this mean they did not love each other?<\/p>\n Anna and Gurov\u2019s relationship does not fit a conventionally accepted definition of love. They loved each other \u201clike<\/em> husband and wife, like<\/em> tender friends\u201d (Chekhov 376), yet they are none of those things. Instead, they are merely two individuals who \u201cloved each other like very close, dear people\u201d (376). Perhaps Anna and Gurov\u2019s love was a product of their imagination. Perhaps their relationship cannot be understood through definitions of socially accepted relationships like marriage, friendship, etc. And this forces Gurov himself to question: \u201cHad he been in love then?\u201d (369) He acknowledges that there hadn\u2019t been anything \u201cbeautiful, poetic, or instructive, or merely interesting, in his relations with Anna Sergeevna\u201d (369); his relationship did not meet traditional expectations of what love should be. Yet he also acknowledges when he finally sees Anna in the theatre that \u201cthere was now no person closer, dearer, or more important for him in the whole world\u201d (372). Does this not convey the emotions that love should elicit, regardless of the nature of this relationship and how the two came to these emotions?<\/p>\n In his \u201cRandomness: Chekhov\u2019s Incidental Detail,\u201d Chudakov includes a comment from literary scholar A. G. Gornfeld on the significance of Chekhov\u2019s revolutionary and innovative style, in which Gornfeld calls Chekhov\u2019s works a \u201c\u2018genuine work of art\u2019\u201d (Chudakov 561). But although Gornfeld was saying this in reference to the aesthetic significance of Chekhov\u2019s literary style, I think this artistic greatness touches on something deeper. As we have seen, Chekhov does not blindly adopt group ideologies and project societal conventions in his works. His treatment of spirituality and love, for example, raises questions on ideas whose conventional definitions have become accepted without question as the sole and only definition for such ideas. But abstract human emotions and their relation to the individual who is experiencing them cannot be codified by such convention; there is more to spirituality than its definition through religion, just as there is more to love than its definition through marriage.<\/p>\n Hence, Chekhov encourages not only his characters, but also his readers to reject conventional definitions of spirituality, love, etc., and to create more personal and intimate meanings that are relative to the individual. For this reason, Chekhov\u2019s works affect us deeply, far beyond the confines of the text and into societal conventions and norms. This is the \u201cgenuine work of art,\u201d the true depth and complexity of Chekhov that makes his works great literature. In John Hagan\u2019s \u201cChekhov\u2019s Fiction and the Ideal of \u2018Objectivity,\u2019\u201d he notes that Chekhov \u201caccused nobody, justified nobody\u201d (412). Chekhov was never the \u201cjudge of his characters or of what they say, but only an objective observer\u201d (Hagan 412). He offered a realistic treatment of his characters and the ideas that he worked with, making his depictions of such people and ideas not conclusive, but potentially interrogative. And by doing so, he gives his characters the freedom to be mere individuals, not vehicles for advancing personal and social agendas; he gives his stories freedom to be art, not propaganda; and he gives his readers the freedom to question ideas in both Chekhov\u2019s works and their own personal lives.<\/p>\n Chekhov, Anton. \u201cThe Lady with the Little Dog.\u201d Selected Stories of Anton Chekhov<\/em>, translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, Bantam Books, 2000, pp. 361\u2013376.<\/p>\n Cudakov, Alexander. \u201cRandomness: Chekhov\u2019s Incidental Detail\u201d. Anton’s Chekhov’s Selected Stories: A Norton Critical Edition<\/em>, edited by Cathy Popkin, W.W. Norton, 2014, pp. 550\u2013562.<\/p>\n Hagan, John. \u201cChekhov’s Fiction and the Ideal of \u2018Objectivity.\u2019” PMLA<\/em>, vol. 81, no. 5, 1996, pp. 409\u2013417.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Sandya Kola Read the instructor’s introduction Download this essay During Anton Chekhov\u2019s time, nineteenth century Russian literature often followed common formulaic literary techniques, which created a logical development of thought that moved towards a larger idea. Literary critic Alexander Chudakov notes in his \u201cRandomness: Chekhov\u2019s Incidental Detail\u201d that these larger ideas would, more often than […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4801,"featured_media":0,"parent":12033,"menu_order":5,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/12101"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4801"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12101"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/12101\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12334,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/12101\/revisions\/12334"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/12033"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12101"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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