Classics and the Western Canon discussion
Chekhov Short Stories
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The Darling
This story and "Chameleon" are about people who effortlessly change themselves to fit the situation, without seeming to realize it.
Yes, I agree that "Chameleon" and "The Darling" are similar but the former being more external while the latter being an internal chameleon of sorts. "Chameleon" was about perception by others changing depending on the dog's relationship to others, as opposed to the internal self perception/being changed based upon relationships. Pity the "darling" herself seemed to have no independent self identity but is only a mirror to her beloveds. Darling was rather a chameleon internal, for the most part.
For me, this story had a fairytale quality to it. For one thing, the narrator seems to be a storytelling character, though we know nothing about him. It doesn't seem to be the author's voice, exactly, telling the tale. Also, as in a fairytale, things come in threes: she loves her first husband deeply and he dies, and then she loves her second husband deeply, and he dies too, so we know that the *third* time, something is going to change. The third "man" turns out to be the veterinarian's son, Sasha, whom she loves as if he's her own but who will never return her affection as her two husbands did. But she doesn't seem to care--she still loves him with absolute desperation. It's tempting to read this as a moral tale: this is the price of having no opinions of your own? Yet I can't shake the feeling that there's something ironic to the tone when Chekhov's narrator exclaims, "And how awful it is not to have any opinions!" Almost as if Chekhov were sick of people with opinions and wrote this little tale to counter that.
I saw something else going on in this story.While it is true that Olenka is vapid, incapable of independent thought, a parasite in need of a host to feed her with opinions, etc. etc., before we criticize her too harshly, I think it’s important to consider the social and cultural context from which such a character might emerge.
Olenka is attractive, mild mannered, gentle, naïve, and non-threatening. Men see her and think, “not half bad,” and women gush in delight at her. People recognize she doesn’t have an independent thought in her body, but they seem to love her anyway. Or is it the other way around? Do they love her because she doesn’t have an independent thought in her body?
When she is seen taking up with the veterinary surgeon—something that ordinarily might have set tongues a-wagging—she is not even castigated:
In any one else this would have been censured, but no one could think ill of Olenka; everything she did was so natural.
The truth of the matter is there is nothing “natural” about Olenka. She manifests learned behavior and attitudes having adapted fully to the subtle and not so subtle messages given by a society that muzzles women’s independent thinking. She has internalized her socialization (dare I say, oppression?) to such a degree she is oblivious of her right to formulate and express her own opinions. When the vet chastises her for speaking in front of his colleagues about cattle plague and foot and mouth disease—topics she knows nothing about, her response speaks volumes:
But, Voloditchka, what am I to talk about?
Without a host to feed her, she cannot thrive. She cannot even think. She is well and truly a product of her socialization, a “darling” female.
It was considered “natural” and desirable for a woman at that time and in that place to be an Olenka. If she woke up one day and found her voice, expressed a contrary opinion, showed one smidgen of intelligence, contradicted the man in her life, did not shy away from having independent thoughts and expressing them openly with little regard for the consequences, she would no doubt be called a lot of things by her community, but I suspect “darling” would not be one of them.
What I’m wondering is this: do we condemn Olenka for being the empty, parasitic vessel that she is, or do we condemn the society that churns out women like this, one that denies them the right to independent thinking, one that insists on their total dependency on and parroting of men, and one that rewards them when they behave accordingly by marrying them and/or conferring upon them the honorific title of darlings?
This then leads me to ask a related question: was Chekhov satirizing Olenka or was he satirizing the society that molds women to become the Olenkas of this world?
Kathy wrote: "It's tempting to read this as a moral tale: this is the price of having no opinions of your own? Yet I can't shake the feeling that there's something ironic to the tone when Chekhov's narrator exclaims, "And how awful it is not to have any opinions!" "That is what surprises me most about this story. Olenka is obviously a weak and malleable woman, a "Zelig," as Patrice says, but she seems to be basically happy living the way she does. She lives for love, and she is only unhappy when she is alone. Most modern readers will immediately have an opinion about this, for good reasons. Tamara sums up those reasons nicely.
But if Chekhov wanted us to judge Olenka for her weakness, why is she happy the way she is? She is a simple woman. Is there something necessarily wrong with this? Must we have an opinion about her not having her own opinions?
Why does the story end the way it does, with Sasha talking in his sleep, saying, "I'll show you! Get out! Stop fighting!" ??
Thomas wrote: "Why does the story end the way it does, with Sasha talking in his sleep, saying, "I'll show you! Get out! Stop fighting!" ??"I think it's because he is trying to push her away. Unlike her husbands who seem perfectly happy to have her parrot their opinions and devote herself entirely to their needs, Sasha is still a child. He senses that her unflinching attention to him is sucking the life out of hm.
Thomas wrote: "But if Chekhov wanted us to judge Olenka for her weakness, why is she happy the way she is? She is a simple woman. Is there something necessarily wrong with this? Must we have an opinion about her not having her own opinions?..."I don't think Chekhov wants us to judge Olenka. I think he wants us to judge the society that gave birth to her.
There is nothing wrong with Olenka being simple and not having her own opinions as long as she knows she has a choice to be otherwise. But I don't see anything in the story to show that Olenka is even aware of an alternative way of being. This is all she knows. She is not exercising choice. She is not even aware that there is a choice to be made.
I don't judge her. I just think it is a tragic waste of potential to blindly follow a path that has been laid out by others only because one isn't aware of the existence of alternative paths.
Patrice wrote: "but she found happiness. Themost difficult and elusive thing to find. she loves and is loved, by everyone. what would you say of someone like mother theresa who followed her religion unquestionin..."
I would never call Mother Theresa weak either. In fact, I think it takes tremendous strength to do what she did. But the difference is that she made a choice to devote herself to others. She formulated her opinions about what needs to be done, and she pursued it. She had options and exercised them. Olenka didn't even know she had options.
Yes, these are good points. I know people , very dear and close to me with whom I have grown up with, who married and seem to have assimilated their spouse's views (yes, these people I refer to are women). Knowing whom they were before, I feel surprise as to their "new" views, but what a happy marriage they have and they are perceived as "darling".
A few stories ago we met a woman who was a medical doctor, and there seemed to be nothing astonishing about it. I don't think we should conclude that Olenka was the necessary product of her society.
Roger wrote: "A few stories ago we met a woman who was a medical doctor, and there seemed to be nothing astonishing about it. I don't think we should conclude that Olenka was the necessary product of her society."You're correct, Roger. However, as soon as the sister in the story began challenging her brother's views, she ceased to be a darling and was no longer welcome to live in his house. Doesn't that prove my point?
Patrice wrote: "If we make this a feminist issue, which from my pov i dont think it is, creating and nurturing life, making a peaceful and loving home,is a beautiful, and meaningful quest ..."
Patrice, I agree with you completely. In fact, I don't think there is anything more important in life than creating a peaceful and loving home and raising healthy, happy, productive children who are respectful of the rights of others.
But perhaps I'm not being clear. Feminism is not about how you choose to live your life i.e. whether you choose to be a homemaker or a doctor. Both choices are valid. Feminism is about providing people with opportunities and choices, educating them on the choices they have, and respecting their choices when they exercise their right to make them.
I applaud women who choose to be homemakers and provide a healthy environment for their family. I think it is one of the hardest and most meaningful jobs in the world. So it's not about what they do. It's about whether or not they know they have a choice.
Patrice wrote: She hasnt hurt anyone, has she?
Hasn't she? Isn't she hurting Sasha? Isn't she suffocating him? Doesn't the nature of his sleep talk reflect she has already damaged him in some way?
I think raising any human being--whether male or female--to believe they don't have options, to deprive them of opportunities that enable them to exercise choice is detrimental not only to the person involved but to society as a whole. I feel this very strongly. For me, it is all about choice and opportunity.
I apologize to the group if I am taking the discussion of this story in a direction you didn't want to go. But this is a subject I am very passionate about. I was a faculty member for a number of years. I also did volunteer work at the local shelter for battered women. I cannot tell you the number of times I have listened to students or to repeat residents of the shelter who "justify" the abuse and go back to their abuser because they genuinely believe they have no other choice. And some of these women were educated and had careers. And some were even the sole providers in their families.
Patrice wrote: "But she found happiness. The most difficult and elusive thing to find. She loves and is loved, by everyone."I don't know, Patrice; I wouldn't say that she is happy. I mean, I know happiness is a completely subjective state, but we cannot ignore that Olenka depends on other people for her happiness: she is incapable of being alone, which means that she is not ok with her identity, and that's why she mirrors everyone she loves. Reading this passage, "she looked into her yard without interest, thought of nothing, wished for nothing, and afterwards, when night came on she went to bed and dreamed of her empty yard. She ate and drank as it were unwillingly," we can account for what I just said; in fact, the narrator also tells us that Olenka ceases to exist when she isn't loving someone. Also, I would also doubt that she really loves when the narrator say that Olenka loves. Again, love is defined only by the person who loves, but we don't know Olenka's definition of love; we just hear the narrator words. I think love is a choice: one falls in love, yes, but one should have the free choice to commit to that love. Is like what Tamara says about Mother Theresa: Tamara wrote: "the difference is that she made a choice to devote herself to others. She formulated her opinions about what needs to be done, and she pursued it. She had options and exercised them. Olenka didn't even know she had options." Olenka does not choose to love; she instantly mimics men because her loneliness or, as Tamara suggests, because of social opression. Poor Olenka is also misguided, I think, because she believes that other people love them for what she is; but we must ask Tamara's question: Tamara wrote: "Do they love her because she doesn’t have an independent thought in her body?" And I think you sum it perfectly later, Patrice: Patrice wrote: "Having just come through a very contentious election i can say that everyone likes to be around people who agree with them. In fact, it seems many find it intolerable to be with someone who thinks independently."
For me this is the most interesting and beautifully told story so far. I thank you all for this discussion. Tamara, I'm also grateful for your passion.
Tamara wrote: "Thomas wrote: "Why does the story end the way it does, with Sasha talking in his sleep, saying, "I'll show you! Get out! Stop fighting!" ??"I think it's because he is trying to push her away. Unl..."
I thought he might be dreaming of his parents. Sasha is telling other people (in his sleep) to stop fighting, and the only people who figure in the story that might fill these roles are his parents, who don't get along. His mother has been unfaithful, his father hates her, and they both neglect Sasha. Olenka is the only one who appears to love him.
Another intriguing passage, especially in light of this discussion: She repeated the vet's thoughts and now shared his opinions on everything. It was clear that she could not survive for even a year without an attachment and had found her happiness in the fliegel next door. Anyone else would have been condemned for this, but no one could think ill of Olenka, her whole life was so transparent. She and the vet did not tell anyone about the change that had taken place in their relationship and tried to conceal it, but without success, because Olenka could not keep a secret.
Because her life was so transparent, no one could condemn her. What does that imply?
Patrice wrote: "thanks thomas for giving us the opportunity to read chekov. i had thought i didnt like him or short stories but i love these. They are short but anything but simple. they leave me with discomfort."Can you identify what causes that discomfort?
I think the tragedy of being a mirror of others is that one looses oneself or even a part of ones own identity. However, in this case it is not apparent she ever had her own self identity beyond her need for another to complete or create her identity. I find that a rather sorry case, personally and perhaps not a choice but a need here. From whence it stems is the mystery. Was her own self ever encouraged to bloom growing up or rather was it squashed by the dictates or judgments of others or ? Perhaps the source is insecurity.
Thomas wrote: "I thought he might be dreaming of his parents. Sasha is telling other people (in his sleep) to stop fighting, and the only people who figure in the story that might fill these roles are his parents, who don't get along. "I actually thought Sasha was probably dreaming of his schoolmates. I didn't think of his words as being directed particularly at Olenka or his parents, but the tone of the words themselves seal our understanding that Olenka's love for him will never be reciprocated.
I can see the feminist reading here, but I want to go back to the ironic tone I sensed in the line, "how awful it is not to have any opinions!" Did anyone else read it that way, and if so, what do you make of it? I think most of us would argue that it *is* awful not to have any opinions, but I can't get past the sense that the story is slyly arguing otherwise.
Olenka is a woman who has enough means to live a genteel life. She lives her life, but there really are no demands on her and she seems to have nothing, no hobbies or volunteer work, etc, to fill her days. The only times she "blossoms" is when she finds purpose through the lives of her husbands and later through Sasha.
Patrice wrote: "doesnt love make us all blossum?"Not necessarily.
Love can make us blossom, but it can be painful and destructive if it’s not reciprocal. It can also be destructive if you don’t have a strong sense of self and rely exclusively and entirely on your partner to provide you with an identity and a reason for being.
As Sue commented earlier, Olenka has no identity without a partner, and whether she ever had one or lost it along the way (a process known as de-selfing), we don’t know. But we know, as Ivan observed, Olenka is miserable being alone. To rely so completely on someone else for your identity and your happiness is not only unfair to you, it puts undue pressure on the person you love and is unfair to him/her.
Because her life was so transparent, no one could condemn her. What does that imply? Everyone could see that she completely lacked both guile and malice.
If I had to sum up Olenka in one word, it would be "barren," both in body and spirit.
Patrice wrote: "I think the discomfort comes from the ambiguity. There is so simple explanation. Like shakespeare or the Greeks, or life. I can see it every which way but never ina comfortable, safe, black and wh..."
I think that's what so wonderful about Chekhov's approach -- he reserves judgment. And this can be uncomfortable for the reader because it's not a matter of agreeing or disagreeing with the author; the reader is put into a more immediate relationship with the story. Chekhov just puts it out there and says... "Well?"
Kathy wrote: "I can see the feminist reading here, but I want to go back to the ironic tone I sensed in the line, "how awful it is not to have any opinions!" Did anyone else read it that way, and if so, what do you make of it? I think most of us would argue that it *is* awful not to have any opinions, but I can't get past the sense that the story is slyly arguing otherwise. "I think it must be ironic, because Olenka is quite content to have no opinions. It is sad for us that she is a non-entity, but it isn't sad for her. That she is happy this way seems unnatural, and unlikely, but the way Chekhov presents the story, that's the way she is. And on a certain level it makes perfect sense -- with no opinions of her own, taking on all the opinions and feelings of her mate, she never has a conflict with them. The last line -- Sasha talking in his sleep, telling some people to stop fighting (schoolmates, I think you're right about that) -- suddenly makes sense to me in this context.
Patrice wrote: "but she found happiness. Themost difficult and elusive thing to find. she loves and is loved, by everyone."Patrice,
at the bottom of the story, there is a note on the translation of darling:
"darling: the Russian word is Dushechka, a diminutive made from Dusha, which means "darling" or "dear"; Poggioli notes that the -echka ending implies "an insinuation of pettiness and a nuance of indulgent scorn"
This leads me to think that when people call her "darling", it is not always sincerely and has a touch of malice in it. So maybe she is not loved by everyone, or everyone likes her but also find her annoying as well. She seems to be unaware of this until the vet and Sasha.
Thomas wrote: "I think it must be ironic, because Olenka is quite content to have no opinions. It is sad for us that she is a non-entity, but it isn't sad for her. That she is happy this way seems unnatural, and unlikely, but the way Chekhov presents the story, that's the way she is. And on a certain level it makes perfect sense -- with no opinions of her own, taking on all the opinions and feelings of her mate, she never has a conflict with them."This is pretty much how I saw her, a bit like the brother from "Excellent People". They were the best they could be. And that isn't bad.
Tamara wrote: "Roger wrote: "A few stories ago we met a woman who was a medical doctor, and there seemed to be nothing astonishing about it. I don't think we should conclude that Olenka was the necessary product of her society."You're correct, Roger. However, as soon as the sister in the story began challenging her brother's views, she ceased to be a darling and was no longer welcome to live in his house. Doesn't that prove my point?
We're told that the sister in "Excellent People" was distraught from losing a beloved husband shortly after marriage, and narrowly survived a suicide attempt. She clung to her brother for survival. He didn't try to control her. When she recovered enough to start having ideas and found that he was incapable of discussing them with her, she left. He didn't throw her out. In fact he pursued her, but she didn't even look back.
I got the sense that Olga wasn't the only character subject to Chekhov's irony in this story. Perhaps I've got a callous heart, but I did have to suppress a laugh when the self-obsessed, weather-obsessed Kukin had his wedding day marred by rain. Both of Olga's husbands seem to be so wrapped up in themselves and their work that they never once ask their darling what her own personal interests might be.
Kathy wrote: "I actually thought Sasha was probably dreaming of his schoolmates. I didn't think of his words as being directed particularly at Olenka or his parents, but the tone of the words themselves seal our understanding that Olenka's love for him will never be reciprocated."And you were right.
Based on the way Sasha is talking through his dream in the original text (and let me omit lengthy grammatical technicalities), I can witness for this: He’s addressing only one person (singular/familiar ‘you’ is implied), male, unlikely an adult, most likely his peer, who is bullying and attacking him.
We know nothing about Sasha’s schoolmates, but we know he is a small boy for his age.
He seems to have his own problems in life, in which there is likely to be very little room for his aunt Olya.
Genni wrote: "Patrice,at the bottom of the story, there is a note on the translation of darling:
"darling: the Russian word is Dushechka, a diminutive made from Dusha, which means "darling" or "dear"; Poggioli notes that the -echka ending implies "an insinuation of pettiness and a nuance of indulgent scorn"."
Very strange. I am pretty busy these days, but I'll comment on this when I have a chance. For now, please don't rush into hasty conclusions! :)
Very interesting, Bigollo, as to Sasha's last words in the story. Portends ill for Olya, actually...as Sasha's woes and concerns are now hers as well.
As Genni wrote:"at the bottom of the story, there is a note on the translation of darling:
"darling: the Russian word is Dushechka, a diminutive made from Dusha, which means "darling" or "dear"; Poggioli notes that the -echka ending implies "an insinuation of pettiness and a nuance of indulgent scorn" "
Just to clarify it once more: The sory in Russian is called 'Dushechka'.
Incidentally, the literal Russian for ‘darling’ is 'dorogoi/aya/oe' (since it’s an adjective, the ending is gender dependent on the noun it is attached to).
Dusha literally means ‘soul’ in Russian.
But it can figuratively mean ‘darling’, especially if you say ‘dusha moya’ = ‘my soul’ when addressing someone.
The suffix ‘-echka’ is even more diminutiveness inducing one than ‘-enka’.
Compare: Olga – Olya – Olenka; you also can say Olechka. And probably can’t go more diminutive than that without really butchering the language.
Same thing with Dusha – Dushenka – Dushechka. Metaphorically, it can mean ‘Darling’, mostly when addressing a loved one, a spouse, or a child.
If a neighbor called Olga Dushechka, could they imply a nuance of indugent scorn?
They could. But not necessarily. Even more so, one neighbor could be endearing and another scornfull.
The other day a waitress called me ‘honey’. I thought she was being friendly, I never met her before, but now I am thinking, maybe she was scornful toward me? Take into account that English is my second language and I eat out very rare. Honey? I have a grandson!
My point is, what Poggioli says above is an interpretation, it’s not what Russian language necessarily implies.
And back to Chekhov. To me, his prose is like dancing on the razor blade, he leaves a lot of free variables for the reader, it’s up to them to freeze those variables. To create as many stories as there are readers.
A thought experiment: Imagine we found an old letter written by Chekhov in which he clearly expresses his attitude toward Dushechka, and what he really meant to say in the story. Will it principally change our reading of the story? As for me, since it was published, it’s my story as a reader. If Chekhov meant something totally different, it’s too late, sorry Antosha, you should’ve expressed yourself more clear. But that’s only my attempt for a joke. Truly, I believe Chekhov knew his readers well.
Bigollo wrote: "As Genni wrote:"at the bottom of the story, there is a note on the translation of darling:
"darling: the Russian word is Dushechka, a diminutive made from Dusha, which means "darling" or "dear";..."
In America, "honey" from a waitress in a diner is just a friendly colloquialism.
Patrice wrote: "throughout this conversation i have been amazed by how differently and yet how strongly we interpret this story. just as you say we each create our own story from our own experiences. interestingly were all committed to our own judgementst..."This is so true. And I think it happens not just with translations but with all works of literature. We have a predisposition to interpret literature with a subjective lens. I know this to be true in my case. Certain words or phrases just leap off the page at me and, for good or bad, this impacts the way I read literature. But surely that is one of the beauties of literature. As long as all interpretations can be grounded in the words of the text, all interpretations are valid regardless of how they might differ.
Bigollo wrote: "As Genni wrote:"at the bottom of the story, there is a note on the translation of darling:
"darling: the Russian word is Dushechka, a diminutive made from Dusha, which means "darling" or "dear";..."
Thanks for clarifying, Bigollo. So this is interesting. Basically, anyone can read his stories however they want to? See whatever they want? It strikes me as interesting, but not necessarily challenging?? Are there layers to unpeel? Or if the layers are simply an accident of ambiguity, what do we make of it?
Roger wrote: "Bigollo wrote: "As Genni wrote:"at the bottom of the story, there is a note on the translation of darling:
"darling: the Russian word is Dushechka, a diminutive made from Dusha, which means "dar..."
I agree that it is often used in a friendly way, but I think these terms are often used in a patronizing way as well. I suppose this is why I am seeing it in the story and others aren't....
Genni wrote: "Basically, anyone can read his stories however they want to? See whatever they want? It strikes me as interesting, but not necessarily challenging?? Are there layers to unpeel?..."Ambiguity seems to be a hallmark of Chekhov's stories, but the level of ambiguity varies from one story to another. In this story the level is very high, I think, because Olenka embodies ambiguity as a person. Her identity is defined by other people (which incidentally is Sartre's definition of hell) so she really is a living "free variable," as Bigollo put it so nicely.
It seems to me that Chekhov uses ambiguity to engage the reader in a very active way. We are called on to ask questions of the characters and get involved in a way that we wouldn't be if we were simply reading a straightforward narrative. It's a fascinating device.
Genni wrote: "Thanks for clarifying, Bigollo. So this is interesting. Basically, anyone can read his stories however they want to? See whatever they want? It strikes me as interesting, but not necessarily challenging?? Are there layers to unpeel? Or if the layers are simply an accident of ambiguity, what do we make of it? "So, Genni, I see Thomas gave a nice response to your questions, with which I agree. But here is a bit of my 'dry' reply, too.
If I were to put it super simply: Yes, of course. It’s another thing that someone’s interpretation could be so bizarre for everybody else, that that person would be very lonely. The fun of art is interpretation and sharing it with others after all.
And yet, I take your questions very seriously. When an author creates a piece of art, he creates a new (artistic) reality. And that reality is not complete chaos, it has its inner laws. (A super talented author may not realize that, but they’re there, coming out through him to organize his work.) It’s easy to see that our reality has a lot of uncertainty. The artistic reality, according to its inner laws, may have even more so. Hence, there may be so many interpretations available. And that’s why it’s fun. If the reader catches, even if only intuitively, the artistic laws created by the author, then he could judge, among other things, for instance, whether the author keeps the integrity in following his own laws. On intuitive (subconscious) level we, readers, probably take it as either jarring or likeable. And on conscious, we 'unpeel layers', or discern other exciting things.
Patrice wrote: "i think i can put the story to rest now. you have sttled it for me as well as it can be settled. youve allowed me to see the levels to chekov. im ready to see the plays again! thank you! You are very welcome, Patrice!
I, too, am creeping in spirals toward if not seeing then maybe reading his plays. I read only two of them in the ancient times, so it does not count, and watched one on DVD (uncle Vanya) relatively recently.
Patrice wrote: "thomas, did sartre say that hell was being defined by other peopleor that hell was other people? "
It's been years since I read No Exit, but I think you have the quote right. Being defined by other people is just an extrapolation -- the reason why other people are hell is because they impinge on one's freedom to be whatever one is authentically. Sort of like peer pressure writ large. That's the way I recall it anyway. In the case of Olenka, it isn't clear that she even has an authentic identity, so I guess she would be immune to Sartre's hell.
Bigollo wrote: "A thought experiment: Imagine we found an old letter written by Chekhov in which he clearly expresses his attitude toward Dushechka, and what he really meant to say in the story. Will it principally change our reading of the story?"Thanks, Bigollo, for all of your insights thus far. Really helpful and interesting--I appreciate them!
And now, not to throw fuel on the fire [winks] but this from the Introduction to Chekhov's published letters, by Simon Karlinsky: "In 'The Darling' we are shown a woman who by choice gives up all her individual qualities and derives whatever existence or dimensions she may possess from the males in her life. Chekhov intended her as a humorous creation, but Lev Tolstoy saw in her the embodiment of some of his own most cherished notions about what a woman should be. In a very significant little critical article on 'The Darling,' Tolstoy argued that Chekhov accomplished the very opposite of what he had intended in this story, depicting, instead of the laughable creature he had in mind, a beautiful, saintly and totally fulfilled woman."
Genni wrote: "So this is interesting. Basically, anyone can read his stories however they want to? See whatever they want? It strikes me as interesting, but not necessarily challenging?? "It depends on your theory of reading. My students wrestle with this question every semester. In my program, we teach from a constructivist approach (some of us more than others) in which, as people are saying above, each reader is understood to "construct" his/her own slightly different version of the text. I like what the theorist Robert Scholes says: that there are "centripetal" readings that work toward the "center" of the text, which would include what the author "intended," to the extent that we can know that, and there are "centrifugal" readings, in which we bring in our own predispositions, experiences, references to other works, etc., creating our own reading at the outer circle of the text. If we can do both, we will have a rich reading.
Kathy wrote: "I like what the theorist Robert Scholes says: that there are "centripetal" readings that work toward the "center" of the text, which would...Kathy,
Whether it is a "centripetal" reading or a "centrifugal" reading or a combination of both, don't all readings have to be supported by the actual words in the text?
Some of my students used to go off on left field when they "interpreted" a text. And when I would ask them to locate the words in the text that supported their reading, they would struggle.
Patrice wrote: ". . .did sartre say that hell was being defined by other people?"Sartre offered a clarification about his much misunderstood phrase:
"Hell is other people" has always been misunderstood. It has been thought that what I meant by that was that our relations with other people are always poisoned, that they are invariably hellish relations. But what I really mean is something totally different. I mean that if relations with someone else are twisted, vitiated, then that other person can only be hell. Why? Because … when we think about ourselves, when we try to know ourselves … we use the knowledge of us which other people already have. We judge ourselves with the means other people have and have given us for judging ourselves.Hell is other people because you are, in some sense, forever trapped within them, subject to their apprehension of you.
I suppose the degree of hellishness might have something to do with the other people and what their specific apprehensions of you are and if you agree or allow these apprehensions to define you. I suppose in this sense both the chameleon and the darling have something in common in that they live other peoples lives and not their own.
Thomas wrote: "It seems to me that Chekhov uses ambiguity to engage the reader in a very active way. We are called on to ask questions of the characters and get involved in a way that we wouldn't be if we were simply reading a straightforward narrative. It's a fascinating device. "When you say, "straightforward narrative" are you thinking of classics (I'm putting Chekhov under this category)? Because I tend to read straightforward narrative classics with just as many questions as I have with Chekhov. But I do agree that it is an interesting device.
Bigollo wrote: "And yet, I take your questions very seriously. When an author creates a piece of art, he creates a new (artistic) reality. And that reality is not complete chaos, it has its inner laws. "Thanks, Bigollo. I haven't thought about art much, but I like the idea of seeing inner laws in an author's work. It gives me a little more guidance as I read more of these short stories.
Kathy wrote: "Genni wrote: "So this is interesting. Basically, anyone can read his stories however they want to? See whatever they want? It strikes me as interesting, but not necessarily challenging?? "It depe..."
Thanks, Kathy. I suppose you have hit on my personal struggle with this. I have a reading diet made up almost entirely of non-fiction, with the exception of reading classics with this group. I am used to authors arguing and persuading some point or other so to be told I can think whatever I want about Chekhov's works is a little jarring. As I think about some of the works we have read in this group, like Dickens for instance, I think he simultaneously created art while "arguing" his own particular views of society. So Chekhov seems to just be creating "art". I like it, but I suppose I am still getting used to it? :-)
Kathy wrote: " "...Chekhov intended her as a humorous creation, but Lev Tolstoy saw in her the embodiment of some of his own most cherished notions about what a woman should be. In a very significant little critical article on 'The Darling,' Tolstoy argued that Chekhov accomplished the very opposite of what he had intended in this story, depicting, instead of the laughable creature he had in mind, a beautiful, saintly and totally fulfilled woman." "What a striking example !! :)
I once heard Tolstoi praise a story of Chekhov's -- "The Darling" I think it was.
"It's like lace woven by a virtuous maiden," he said. "There used to be girl lace-makers in the old days, who, their whole lives long, wove their dreams of happiness into the pattern. They wove their fondest dreams, their lace was saturated with vague, pure aspirations of love." Tolstoi spoke with true emotion, with tears in his eyes.
But that day Chekhov had a temperature, and sat with his head bent, vivid spots of color on his cheeks, carefully wiping his pince-nez. He said nothing for some time, and at last, sighing, said softly and awkwardly: "There are misprints in it."
"The Darling" is story # 194 at the Eldritch Press website:
http://www.eldritchpress.org/ac/jr/19...