Letters of Anton Chekhov (Tchekhov) - Penn State University

Letters of Anton Chekhov to His Family and Friends with biographical sketchTO GORKY.YALTA, December 3, 1898.Your last letter has given me great pleasure. I thank you with allmy heart. “Uncle Vanya” was written long, long ago; I have neverseen it on the stage. Of late years it has often been produced atprovincial theatres. I feel cold about my plays as a rule; I gave up thetheatre long ago, and feel no desire now to write for the stage.You ask what is my opinion of your stories. My opinion? Thetalent is unmistakable and it is a real, great talent. For instance, inthe story “In the Steppe” it is expressed with extraordinary vigour,and I actually felt a pang of envy that it was not I who had writtenit. You are an artist, a clever man, you feel superbly, you are plastic—thatis, when you describe a thing you see it and you touch itwith your hands. That is real art. There is my opinion for you, andI am very glad I can express it to you. I am, I repeat, very glad, andif we could meet and talk for an hour or two you would be convincedof my high appreciation of you and of the hopes I am buildingon your gifts.Shall I speak now of defects? But that is not so easy. To speak ofthe defects of a talent is like speaking of the defects of a great treegrowing in the garden; what is chiefly in question, you see, is notthe tree itself but the tastes of the man who is looking at it. Is notthat so?I will begin by saying that to my mind you have not enough restraint.You are like a spectator at the theatre who expresses his transportswith so little restraint that he prevents himself and other peoplefrom listening. This lack of restraint is particularly felt in the descriptionsof nature with which you interrupt your dialogues; whenone reads those descriptions one wishes they were more compact,shorter, put into two or three lines. The frequent mention of tenderness,whispering, velvetiness, and so on, give those descriptionsa rhetorical and monotonous character—and they make one feelcold and almost exhaust one. The lack of restraint is felt also in thedescriptions of women (“Malva,” “On the Raft”) and love scenes. Itis not vigour, not breadth of touch, but just lack of restraint. Then364