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Letters of Anton Chekhov (Tchekhov) - Penn State University

Letters of Anton Chekhov (Tchekhov) - Penn State University

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<strong>Letters</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Anton</strong> <strong>Chekhov</strong> to His Family and Friends with biographical sketchTO HIS BROTHER IVAN.VENICE, March 24, 1891.I am now in Venice. I arrived here two days ago from Vienna.One thing I can say: I have never in my life seen a town more marvellousthan Venice. It is perfectly enchanting, brilliance, joy, life.Instead <strong>of</strong> streets and roads there are canals; instead <strong>of</strong> cabs, gondolas.The architecture is amazing, and there is not a single spot thatdoes not excite some historical or artistic interest. You float in agondola and see the palace <strong>of</strong> the Doges, the house where Desdemonalived, homes <strong>of</strong> various painters, churches. And in the churches thereare sculptures and paintings such as we have never dreamed <strong>of</strong>. Infact it is enchantment.All day from morning till night I sit in a gondola and glide alongthe streets, or I saunter about the famous St. Mark’s Square. Thesquare is as level and clean as a parquet floor. Here there is St.Mark’s—something impossible to describe—the Palace <strong>of</strong> the Doges,and other buildings which make me feel as I do listening to partsinging—I feel the amazing beauty and revel in it.And the evenings! My God! One might almost die <strong>of</strong> the strangeness<strong>of</strong> it. One goes in a gondola … warmth, stillness, stars ….There are no horses in Venice, and so there is a silence here as in theopen country. Gondolas flit to and fro, … then a gondola glides by,hung with lanterns. In it are a double-bass, violins, a guitar, a mandolinand cornet, two or three ladies, several men, and one hearssinging and music. They sing from operas. What voices! One goeson a little further and again meets a boat with singers, and thenagain, and the air is full, till midnight, <strong>of</strong> the mingled strains <strong>of</strong>violins and tenor voices, and all sorts <strong>of</strong> heart-stirring sounds.Merezhkovsky, whom I have met here, is <strong>of</strong>f his head with ecstasy.For us poor and oppressed Russians it is easy to go out <strong>of</strong> our mindshere in a world <strong>of</strong> beauty, wealth, and freedom. One longs to remainhere for ever, and when one stands in the churches and listensto the organ one longs to become a Catholic.The tombs <strong>of</strong> Canova and Titian are magnificent. Here they burygreat artists like kings in churches; here they do not despise art as226

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