Short, Sharp, and Heartbreaking: Why Chekhov Still Matters
The Art of Subtlety: How Chekhov’s Short Stories Reveal the Secrets of Great Storytelling
Fiction has many forms. That’s what makes it highly attractive, interesting and curious, it draws us into other worlds that we never thought of existing.
There are easy books to read. There are hard books to read. I know people who read a hard to read book because their curiosity is motivated by finding out what the author wanted to say. They do find out, their brain is wired for story, and their curiosity is endless.
The easy reading bestseller format of writing drives me nuts. It’s mostly impossible to enjoy a book that is written like a business report of who said what, and why they did it. At least show me how they did it, how they felt, and how it affected their their lives.
Then I can feel something while I read.
Long narratives in novels that we can immerse ourselves in and forget all our mundane worldly worries, or the short story that grips us and won’t let go. We walk away after an hour’s reading, and the short story still lingers in our minds. Its strength and presence won’t leave us.
Novels give us material to ponder and discuss. They are full of greatness, and sadness, and all the salts and spices of the earth. We can sit with friends and ask who has read this or that novel, and it often kicks off a great discussion about the character or the premise.
Short stories tend to speak to us in a more personal way. We keep hold of them. Like little gems that we found on a beach. ‘It means something to me, so I’ll keep it. I’ll take it out once in a while, and mull over its feelings to refresh my thoughts. It has textures and layers’.
That little gem can often be a nicely wrapped up emotion that the short story writer has singled out as their target. They focused on it, dug it up to reveal it, so that we can see that we also feel that particular emotion. It deals with our fears, and our hopes; hopes are emotions that are looking for a solid form. Abstract desires that belong to some more solid part of our psyche.
A Great Story Teller
A great short story of hope helps us to define feelings as much as it shows us how to deal with it, or find it. It entertains us firstly, then gives us material for life.
That’s how I feel about Anton Chekhov’s stories. Whenever I think of any of his short stories, they make me grateful for my warm bed late at night.
I read a story of his that won’t leave me alone; two shepherds watching the flock. It’s icy cold, they are on the side of a mountain not far from the village. It is pit black. So far, I like the story, and I’m glad that my two overweight cats are warming my bed.
It is good to be able to observe through the sharp phrasing and descriptions that Chekhov wrote. I get the feeling that I’m on the mountain with them. But I’m not, thankfully.
I notice that he broke a rule that is bandied about on the internet, these days. ‘don’t use descriptions in short story writing - it’s too meandering and watery’, or something like that. ‘Write as if your readers are five years old…’, there’s a lot of dud advice on the internet.
Read Chekhov and you’ll have to think a little - not too much, though. He wanted you to enjoy the story. He does a great job of warming your heart while reading about the harshness of Russian life long ago.
I’ve noticed how he’ll begin a story at a distance, then telescope into the scene and characters. A harsh winter landscape, a particular mountain side, two shepherds with a little sack of food for later that night. Darkness. The sound of horse’s hooves coming along the road. Their immediate fears draw us into the shepherd’s heart. Nobody has business on the road at this time of night - unless they are up to bad business.
The shepherds are afraid that they will be robbed, so they hide the sack of food. It is pit black, icy cold, and people in general have a tough time finding food or shelter. Times are dangerous.
He uses description first. Then, finally, we hear the voices as the shepherds speak a couple of words to each other. Their words carry so much more weight because we already know how they suffer up there on the mountain side - a mountain landscape Chekhov took time to describe.
The story goes on, they meet the rider who needs confirmation that he’s on the right track. They don’t trust him, but do their best to help him on his way down into the village. They are still sure he is up to some monkey business and are glad that he trots on after a short conversation. Now, the reader is as curious about the rider as are the two shepherds. And so starts the story.
To read great short stories is to warm the cockles of your heart. They are always full of warmth, humanity, emotions, all bundled up into a bouquet that is well formed to display the central flower of the cast of colours.
There’s a good reason why I’d recommend reading Anton Chekhov’s short stories; they are great, They are all entertaining. And although they were written long ago, we can see how not much has changed in the fortunes of people when it comes to love and happiness, to self and social lives, or to how we feel when we sit alone and seek solace and enlightenment in the words of others.
affiliate links to books.
A book of Short Stories by Anton Chekhov
Short story by Sean P. Durham, “The House of Weirdo”