Early Short Stories, 1883-1888 (Modern Library)

Rating:
Summary: ...lesson one..
Review: Marvelous is the only word to describe this first of three volumes of Anton Chekhov's short stories published by the Modern Library. While the following two compilations are each superlative in their own way (thank you again, Shelby Foote), this Early Short Stories 1883-88, is a thrilling peek at genuis not only flowering but seemingly mature; a self-assured young artist at play in his medium, inventing a new(then) approach to emotions as easily as passing off a serf's bromide or a bishop's benediction. This is lesson one in the art of the short story, boys & girls, and it doesn't get much better....ever.

Rating:
Summary: ...lesson one..
Review: Marvelous is the only word to describe this first of three volumes of Anton Chekhov's short stories published by the Modern Library. While the following two compilations are each superlative in their own way (thank you again, Shelby Foote), this Early Short Stories 1883-88, is a thrilling peek at genuis not only flowering but seemingly mature; a self-assured young artist at play in his medium, inventing a new(then) approach to emotions as easily as passing off a serf's bromide or a bishop's benediction. This is lesson one in the art of the short story, boys & girls, and it doesn't get much better....ever.

Rating:
Summary: CHEKHOV IN THE ORIGINAL ENGLISH...
Review: Say what you will about the greatness of modern translations of great literature--I too would argue that Fagles's Homer is worth its weight in gold, I'd take Raffel over Putnam any day the week in both Cervantes and Rabelais, Pevear and Volokhonsky have brought Dostoevsky to life for me--and yet there is something to be said for reading the E.V. Rieus, Samuel Putnams, and yes, the Constance Garnetts of the world.

I am sure Pevear's Chekhov is Chekhov straight up, no filler or watering down. I'm sure it reveals the author in ways that those of us not yet able to speak or read Russian have not yet known. I will gladly read Pevear (and hopefully the Russian) somewhere on down the line.

But here is Chekhov in the original English. Here is the wide-eyed, yet steady prose of Constance Garnett. We must not, in our hubris, bypass this. It is a treasure. I am glad for having read it.

Mr. Foote's selections and foreword are as steady and beautifully clean as the translations of Ms. Garnett. He spent a good deal of time on this project and is to be commended for it. He is a true force in American letters, one whose greatness and influence will only grow with time.

Modern Library is also to be commended for releasing these books in three well-done and excellent volumes. One could not ask for a better package for these works.

I give this book and its two companion volumes a warm and heart-felt recommendation.

Rating:
Summary: Amazingly good stuff!
Review: There are several extremely interesting things to be noted about this book, and its author.

I. The first thing, for me, is an item which is traditionally taboo: the life of the author. Many critics hold this, the biography, to be irrelevant: all you have to do is read the book.

But Chekhov's life demands the attention of every thinking (or feeling) human being: the man was a saint. Chekhov actually was the human being which Leo Tolstoy wanted to be. (!)

A saint?

Surely Chekhov himself would have been the first to argue with anyone who so described him. After all, Chekhov's own religion began with his own personal "holy of holies, the human body."

So why do I call Chekhov a saint?

He treated over a thousand peasants per year for free at his country home. He also paid for their medicine. And that only begins to describe what Chekhov did. He must have been a man of incredible energy, because he always gave of himself. The long trip to Sakhalin Island is just the tip of the iceberg: the man built schools, hospitals, libraries and so forth all over Russia. And he didn't just write a check: he ordered all the materials and supervised the construction himself.

How many of us can say that we have built a school, personally, much less a dozen?

II. The second thing is the extent to which Chekhov's extraordinarily generous personality penetrated his writing. Nobody before, in the history of the planet, had written with the extraordinary love and compassion of Chekhov. You cannot imitate Chekhov, because you are not Chekhov. If I were inclined to superstition, I would perhaps believe that Chekhov was a benevolent emissary of a higher power (but Chekhov himself would tell me that I was speaking nonsense).

III. The third thing, only interesting to people who love literature, is that Chekhov (in a way) totally lacks style. He's not the sort of writer who frets over his nouns and his verbs, and the proper, beautiful presentation of his sentences. He didn't care about that. And it is very interesting to me that a writer who didn't care beans about style has soared far, far above many thousands of scribblers who did care, and profoundly.

IV. The fourth thing is a thought that comes to me from time to time: Chekhov was a writer worthy of comparison with Shakespeare, Homer, and Aeschylus: that he was a genius of the first water. Time will tell, as always.

Highest possible recommendation!

Rating:
Summary: Amazingly good stuff!
Review: There are several extremely interesting things to be noted about this book, and its author.

I. The first thing, for me, is an item which is traditionally taboo: the life of the author. Many critics hold this, the biography, to be irrelevant: all you have to do is read the book.

But Chekhov's life demands the attention of every thinking (or feeling) human being: the man was a saint. Chekhov actually was the human being which Leo Tolstoy wanted to be. (!)

A saint?

Surely Chekhov himself would have been the first to argue with anyone who so described him. After all, Chekhov's own religion began with his own personal "holy of holies, the human body."

So why do I call Chekhov a saint?

He treated over a thousand peasants per year for free at his country home. He also paid for their medicine. And that only begins to describe what Chekhov did. He must have been a man of incredible energy, because he always gave of himself. The long trip to Sakhalin Island is just the tip of the iceberg: the man built schools, hospitals, libraries and so forth all over Russia. And he didn't just write a check: he ordered all the materials and supervised the construction himself.

How many of us can say that we have built a school, personally, much less a dozen?

II. The second thing is the extent to which Chekhov's extraordinarily generous personality penetrated his writing. Nobody before, in the history of the planet, had written with the extraordinary love and compassion of Chekhov. You cannot imitate Chekhov, because you are not Chekhov. If I were inclined to superstition, I would perhaps believe that Chekhov was a benevolent emissary of a higher power (but Chekhov himself would tell me that I was speaking nonsense).

III. The third thing, only interesting to people who love literature, is that Chekhov (in a way) totally lacks style. He's not the sort of writer who frets over his nouns and his verbs, and the proper, beautiful presentation of his sentences. He didn't care about that. And it is very interesting to me that a writer who didn't care beans about style has soared far, far above many thousands of scribblers who did care, and profoundly.

IV. The fourth thing is a thought that comes to me from time to time: Chekhov was a writer worthy of comparison with Shakespeare, Homer, and Aeschylus: that he was a genius of the first water. Time will tell, as always.

Highest possible recommendation!

Rating:
Summary: Anton's Chehov early short stories is a must have book
Review: this is a must have collection (the 3 volumes), for anyone intersted in writting short stories or the russia of 1900's, it contains his most important works of this type, the translation is made by one of the foremost experts on russian literature 'Constance Garnett', although is to notice that it does not include any references in the footnotes of changed russian words that do not exist in english.