Letters of Anton Chekhov (Tchekhov) - Penn State University

Letters of Anton Chekhov to His Family and Friends with biographical sketchwhether I write “The Party” or “The Lights,” or a vaudeville or aletter to a friend—it is all dull, spiritless, mechanical, and I get annoyedwith critics who attach any importance to “The Lights,” forinstance. I fancy that I deceive him with my work just as I deceivemany people with my face, which looks serious or over-cheerful. Idon’t like being successful; the subjects which sit in my head areannoyed and jealous of what has already been written. I am vexedthat the rubbish has been done and the good things lie about in thelumber-room like old books. Of course, in thus lamenting I ratherexaggerate, and much of what I say is only my fancy, but there is apart of the truth in it, a good big part of it. What do I call good?The images which seem best to me, which I love and jealously guardlest I spend and spoil them for the sake of some “Party” writtenagainst time …. If my love is mistaken, I am wrong, but then it maynot be mistaken! I am either a fool and a conceited fellow or I reallyam an organism capable of being a good writer. All that I now writedispleases and bores me, but what sits in my head interests, excitesand moves me—from which I conclude that everybody does thewrong thing and I alone know the secret of doing the right one.Most likely all writers think that. But the devil himself would breakhis neck in these problems.Money will not help me to decide what I am to do and how I am toact. An extra thousand roubles will not settle matters, and a hundredthousand is a castle in the air. Besides, when I have money—itmay be from lack of habit, I don’t know—I become extremely carelessand idle; the sea seems only knee-deep to me then …. I needtime and solitude.94