Forty StoriesIf any writer can be said to have invented the modern short story, it is Anton Chekhov. It is not just that Chekhov democratized this art form; more than that, he changed the thrust of short fiction from relating to revealing. And what marvelous and unbearable things are revealed in these Forty Stories. The abashed happiness of a woman in the presence of the husband who abandoned her years before. The obsequious terror of the official who accidentally sneezes on a general. The poignant astonishment of an aging Don Juan overtaken by love. Spanning the entirety of Chekhov's career and including such masterpieces as "Surgery," "The Huntsman," "Anyuta," "Sleepyhead," "The Lady With the Pet Dog," and "The Bishop," this collection manages to be amusing, dazzling, and supremely moving—often within a single page. |
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... tears to arise in strangers' eyes and of smiling upon beauty, why hast Thou given me a soul fatigued unto death and oppressed by interminable hungry thoughts? Like an insect born of the dust, I hide in darkness, in terror and despair ...
... tears to arise in strangers' eyes and of smiling upon beauty, why hast Thou given me a soul fatigued unto death and oppressed by interminable hungry thoughts? Like an insect born of the dust, I hide in darkness, in terror and despair ...
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... tears came to his eyes. “Wonderful, my dear! Now pull his hair out! Go at it, my darling! You don't want to? Karpushka, come here!” The girl clutched at her sweetheart's hair. “Don't stand still! Make it hurt! Pull harder!” The girl.
... tears came to his eyes. “Wonderful, my dear! Now pull his hair out! Go at it, my darling! You don't want to? Karpushka, come here!” The girl clutched at her sweetheart's hair. “Don't stand still! Make it hurt! Pull harder!” The girl.
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... intention of climbing out of the carriage. Yegor Yegorich tugged at his coat-tails and pulled him down. “Don't tear my coat! It cost thirty rubles! Let go! Really, gentlemen, I must ask you to spare me your conversation.
... intention of climbing out of the carriage. Yegor Yegorich tugged at his coat-tails and pulled him down. “Don't tear my coat! It cost thirty rubles! Let go! Really, gentlemen, I must ask you to spare me your conversation.
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... is he?” “Very poorly.” “Let me go to him! I don't want him to think that I've ... that I've done anything ...” We went out on the terrace. Olya's knees were shaking. I pretended to wipe away a tear. Members of our group.
... is he?” “Very poorly.” “Let me go to him! I don't want him to think that I've ... that I've done anything ...” We went out on the terrace. Olya's knees were shaking. I pretended to wipe away a tear. Members of our group.
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Anton Chekhov. pretended to wipe away a tear. Members of our group kept running past us on the terrace, looking pale ... tears. We had come to the summer house. “Here it is!” I said. Olya closed her eyes and threw both arms round me. “I ...
Anton Chekhov. pretended to wipe away a tear. Members of our group kept running past us on the terrace, looking pale ... tears. We had come to the summer house. “Here it is!” I said. Olya closed her eyes and threw both arms round me. “I ...
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already asked beautiful began Bishop body brother called carriage Chekhov church cold coming dark dead dear doctor don’t drink everything expression eyes face fall father feeling fell felt followed garden gave gazed give green hands happened happy head heard horses husband It’s keep knew later laughed leave letter light listen live longer looked married morning mother Nadya never night officer Olya once passed peasants playing Princess remembered round seemed shoulders shouted side silence sitting sleep smile someone soon sound standing stay stood story suddenly talking tears tell there’s things thought told took town turned understand village voice waiting walked wandered whole wife window woman women write Yegor Yegorich young