I need to read it again too, Quark. I forget the stories so quickly, because of reading others. I will look closer at the text now, and see if i can also see anything new, I had not previously noticed, keeping in-mind these new ideas.
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Before everyone reaches their conclusions about the connections between Ivan's tale and the characters in "The Student," I wanted to bring up one other possibility. The biblical story could be told well by Ivan, and that's what's making the widows react. I was reading an article earlier in the week that argued that the student is deceived about the meaning of his story. This is from an article about various portrayals of Peter's betrayal called "Three Versions of Peter's Denial":
In this reading, everyone's confusion about the connections is the correct response. There are no connections; Vasilia's tears are the result of Ivan's dramatic narrative and not anything personal. For this critic, "The Student" is about emotion, and nothing more. The depression the student feels toward the middle of the story is no more ignorant than the joy he feels at the end. I talked about the optimistic feeling at the end being more informed, but this critic disagrees:Quote:
Modestly or ignorantly, he [Ivan] fails to understand what has happened; he thinks the women are moved because their souls are affected by what happens in Peter's soul, not because he has been able to tell the story well, but he is wrong. He has told the story well, as touchingly and nearly as sparely as it is told in the Gospels. The link between Vasilissa and the distant past is himself, the narrator, and if he could admit that narrative skill he could make explicit what Chekhov only implies: that the past and present are linked by a chain of human fashioning. Everything in the story, and especially the choice of Peter's denial, demonstrates that there would be no past without a narrator to transmit it--without a Chekhov to put the past in an expressive setting and arrange for its eloquent retelling.
It goes without saying that I disagree with this interpretation, but I thought I should bring it up. I think that there are real connections between the widows and the story, and that the end is meant to be definitive. Part of this comes from the ideas I already posted, but also some of it come from what Chekhov himself said about the story. He wrote to his brother after he finished this one to tell him that he'd finally written an optimistic piece which should silence his critics who claim he only writes about sadness. If you view the ending as just another mood, then the story is neutral at best. In fact, I think it would still be another depressing Chekhov plot. What separates it from the others is the uplifting ending, and I think we have view it as real.Quote:
Ivan's joy is the result on an accident of mood and hence is a fragile thing. He is only twenty-two. How many years will he have to change his mind? When will he feel the cold wind blowing again?...Chekhov is uninterested in the devaluation of one mood by another--of hope by disillusion, say, or steadfast faith momentary cowardice. What interests him is the cause-and-effect of emotional change, or the sheer drama of change itself
Not to dwell on this, though, I wanted to post another idea. That is, that I think the three moods in the story relate to the three dominant moods in Chekhov's other works. First, the upbeat, happy opening corresponds with the humorous or comic which is in many of Chekhov's early stories. Then, the sadness of the middle we're all familiar with. Finally, the optimistic ending reminds me of the sympathy Chekhov has for his characters which gives his stories some warmth. Each of these moods are very common in the other stories, but it's rare to see them as close together as they are in this story.
When I first read the story I was a little confused by his automatic presumption that they must connected in someway to the story of Peter.
If they were relgious, and I presume they were sense he was telling a biblical story, than couldn't they have been touched by the story without nessciarly being personally connected to it?
Aren't people affected sometimes by either things they read, or stories other people tell, or movies, ect... that do not nessicarly refelct thier own personal life?
Well, Quark, I read your post and the ones following and now I think - 'wow, Chekhov is really confusing!' My first impression of the ending, was not one of 'optimism'; that is why I kidded you and said a 'tiny ray of hope.' However, I was seriously bending that direction; therefore, I might tend to agree with the second commentary a little more. I felt, given Ivan's age, he would definitely waver later, from his momentary optimistic view of life and once again become melancholy; that is not to say he would stay that way. That is also not to say he would then disregard the interconnectedness of life. I still think this way, somewhat; yet that would dispute the idea of his having an 'epiphany', or would it? Does his epiphany depend on the ending being optimistic? I guess I questioned also the true optimism of the last paragraph, knowing the mood of the Chekhov stories I have read so far and seeing that most of them, even if they seem happy, are under the surface not. I was therefore 'suspicious' of that being a truly happy ending, or a conclusion. I think mostly though, I would go with what the author said about his own work. If he meant the ending to be happy and optimistic then it must be so. Perhaps he wrote it happy for his public but he, himself, Chekhov knew otherwise; however the public would read it as optimistic. Personally I don't read the ending as being truly optimistic.
I do tend to agree with the first statement as Antiquarian does, but I agree with Dark Muse , also - that the woman could be religious, and therefore would naturally be very emotional about the retelling of the bible story - why not?
Antiquarian, I think that very well could play into it. Also, many people become moody or melancholy on Easter, with the approach of spring; for instance, if the weather is not condusive to the idea of spring. I think Good Friday is a kind of depressing/melancholy day for most; well of the Christian faith, I suppose.
If somebody would tell me about betrayal, I’ll cry. I had too much of it, don’t you?
I do agree with that though, Olga. Yes, the idea that Peter was so beloved by Christ and then he betrayed him is a sad thing to contemplate, indeed.
I have had some additional thoughts on this story though. First, knowing how sparse Chekhov's work normally is, why would he include facts in this story, such as the fact that he points out the two women are widows? Is he doing this, just to show how sad in spirit those two women may have become, and therefore they can hear of any sad story and burst forth into their own personal tears of grief? Or are those tears merely human empathy for the Peter/Christ story. I always feel that story makes me very sad, as does the fate of Judas; because it seemed to me that it was in the plan and preordained to be. I always feel a sort of unfairness, about that part of the bible story: that God, the father, would put into his grand plan, this element of two devoted disciples betraying his son; or it it simply that Jesus sensed they would betray him and told them so, or as a prophecy? The betrayal is prophecized specifically, about the crowing of the **** 3 times, so it then makes it believable as a prophecy. This is a confusing part to me in the bible. The disciples were only men and yet they seem to be singled out to betray Christ; out of all, why those two?
If one thinks of this perhaps the widows connect in this way - why were they singled out by God or fate to become widows? or why was their life so difficult and sad? I know these are only mere quesses, but I thought I would throw out this idea. The bible story does show how our fates can change dramatically in a very short time. In this way would they feel interconnected to the bible story?
Quark, will you be posting anymore of the text for us to examine and talk about? I don't mean to rush you, but I was just curious.
I brought up some connections in the story, and I don't know whether they got skipped over. I'll post them again because there are connections in the details. Chekhov didn't stress them, however, because that would place to much emphasis on these details which are not really important. It's the sympathy and truth of story-telling that is being conveyed here. If Chekhov had made the widows victims of betrayal--or something else more explicit--then we might consider the story as being "about" betrayal. Leaving the connection less spelled out better makes the more abstract point the student makes at the end: that art expresses the recurring beauty and truth which we sense through our sympathy. There still are details which link the widows and Peter with the story, but they're not meant to absorb the story. I listed the ones I saw in a previous post:
I think we've looked for connections in the wrong place, so far. We focused on the idea of betrayal, but that isn't what makes the widows respond. No, it's the beating which makes the "beaten-down" widow stare at the student, and it's the self-knowledge which brings the older widow to tears. Their reactions are placed right after these parts in the story. That's why I view them as linked. I don't see why else Chekhov would have them react at two different times with two different reactions if he meant them to be responding to just one thing, the betrayal.
Yeah, that's what the story is exploring. The question is why do people respond. Is it because their excited by a cleverly told story, or are they responding to something deep within their souls? The student thinks it's more of the latter, and I think the story is meant to agree with him.
I think it does. What makes Ivan hopeful is the fact that people are connected by mutual sympathy with the truth and beauty in the world. Originally, the student is depressed by the recurrences he sees:
After the seeing Vasilia's tears, though, Ivan's despair is transformed into joy and hope. The fact that the widow could feel that sadness, too, has changed Ivan. In her sympathy the student sees truth becoming beauty. I do think you have to see the same thing to view the story as optimistically as he does. But, that's why story is framed and worded the way it is. It's meant to drive you to that conclusion.Quote:
And now, shrinking from the cold, he thought that just such a wind had blown in the days of Rurik and in the time of Ivan the Terrible and Peter, and in their time there had been just the same desperate poverty and hunger, the same thatched roofs with holes in them, ignorance, misery, the same desolation around, the same darkness, the same feeling of oppression -- all these had existed, did exist, and would exist, and the lapse of a thousand years would make life no better.
Good point. I say above that both the women and Peter have lost someone important to them. This another part of the connection between the characters.
That's a tough biblical question, and I don't have a good answer. Sorry, Janine.
I'm not posting chunks of the story--seeing as how this one is so short.
Quark, I pretty much agree with what you said above. I had another thought on the older widow. Here are quotes to describe the two women:
Several things stand out in these two quotes, to me as parallels to the biblical/Good Friday story; The woman tend a garden, known as 'the widows' and this recalls me to the 'Garden', where Christ will be finally betrayed.Quote:
The gardens were called the widows' because they were kept by two widows, mother and daughter. A campfire was burning brightly with a crackling sound, throwing out light far around on the ploughed earth. The widow Vasilisa, a tall, fat old woman in a man's coat, was standing by and looking thoughtfully into the fire; her daughter Lukerya, a little pockmarked woman with a stupid-looking face, was sitting on the ground, washing a cauldron and spoons. Apparently they had just had supper. There was a sound of men's voices; it was the laborers watering their horses at the river.
This second quote lets us know, just how close Vasilisa was to the children in the family - see my underlined phrases. She might, therefore relate to the nurturing of Mary, the mother of Christ, and the magnitude of her loss. As you already said the younger woman would relate to the idea of abuse and being beaten, since she has experienced it, first hand. The older woman has experinced the joys of motherhood and may be fell so torn within relating to the thought of Mary losing her son in this terrible way - crucifixion; the young woman would relate to the abuse and beating of Christ, undoubtably. Both of these ideas would betray their 'womanhood' and their sensibilies to life itself.Quote:
They talked. Vasilisa, a woman of experience who had been in service with the gentry, first as a wet-nurse, afterwards as a children's nurse expressed herself with refinement, and a soft, sedate smile never left her face; her daughter Lukerya, a village peasant woman who had been beaten by her husband, simply screwed up her eyes at the student and said nothing, and she had a strange expression like that of a deaf-mute.
It is interesting also to note the difference in the two woman - one is said to be "experienced" and "expressed herself with refinement", while the other younger woman seems to have had a "strange expression like that of a deaf-mute"; also she is described as a "village peasant". Why do you suppose Chekhov choose to have the two woman be so different?
Quark, I disagree - I think posting the text (even if this is a short short story) is very beneficial and we will end up seeing much more to the story than we previously noticed. Hey, you getting lazy on us, Quark - our fearless leader!???...*moan*...*sigh*
Ok, I think that it is starting to make more sense now. It is hard not to think about the idea of the betrayl, sense that is the main theme of the Bibilical story.
Though much of the focus has been placed upon the story of Peter, and its signifigance, one of my faveorite scenes, that I think was also really imporant to the idea of the connection, was when Ivan was first comitting on the fire before he began telling the story:
Quote:
The gardens were called the widow's becasue they were kept by two widows, mother and daughter. A camp fire was burning brightly with a crackling sound, throwing out light far around on the ploughed earth. The widow Vasilisa, a tall, fat old womnd in a man's coat, was standing by and looking throughtfully into the fire; her daughter Lukerya, a little pock-marked woman with a stupid-looking face, was sitting on the ground, washing a caldron and spoons. Apperantely they had just had supper. There was a sound of men's voices; it was the labourers watering thier horses at the river.
"Here you have winter back again" said the student, going up to the campre fire. "Good evening."
Vasilisa started, but at once recognized him and smiled cordially.
"I did not know you; God bless you," she said.
"You'll be rich"
They talked, Vasilisa, a woman of experince, who had been in service with the gentry first as a wet-nurse, afterwards a children's nurse, expressed herself with refinemnet, and a soft, sedtate smile never left her face, her daughter Lukerya, a village pesant woman, who had been beaten by her husband, simply screwed up her eyes at the student and said nothing, and she had a strange expression like that of a deaf mute.
"At just such a fire the Apolste Peter warmed himsel," said the student, streaching out his hands to the fire. "so he must have been cold then, too. Ah, what a terrible night it must have been, granny! An utterly dimsal long night."
We haven't spoken much of the similarities in setting and ambiance, but there are several. As you explain, Ivan's story and the biblical account both are set in gardens. I'll list a few more to make the comparison clearer. Both scenes are centered around a fireplace; birds (thrushes, cocks) vocalize in the stories; laborers return at the end of the stories; the frigid wind, obviously, is another linking detail. I know that I must be overlooking some others, but that is all that comes to mind right now. If anyone can think of some more feel free to post them. While it's probably enough just to say that there are connections, finding them can be sort of fun. It reminds me of those picture puzzles I used to play when I was six. There would be a drawing and it would ask you to find odd items (scissors, a telescope, etc.), and then you'd see how many you could get. I was horrible at these, of course, and I couldn't get more then two or three, but I still loved them. When I read the end of "The Student," it just reminded me of those puzzles because the conclusion gives you things to look for. Every time I reread, I try to find as many as I can. I'm still horrible at this, though (notice how I could only find three connections).
That's a good point, Janine. The mother would react to the this story because it's about loss, and she has lost her motherhood. Vasilisa watches her daughter leave her and get beaten in the way Peter has to see Christ separated and beaten.
While the characterization of the two women is different, their situation is the identical. Both are impoverished widows tending the same garden. Vasilisa distinguishes herself from the common peasants by her manner which she acquired from the gentility; but, behind her pretentiousness, she's still a peasant. This sets up her reaction to the final part of Ivan's story. When Peter discovers that he is not as strong of Christian as he supposed himself, he weeps. Vasilisa cries because she knows she is not a gentle aristocrat.
Chekhov gave the two women these distinguishing characteristics and reactions so that the story didn't become centered on just one idea in Ivan's story. Like I mentioned earlier, if Chekhov had made both women the victims of betrayal, then "The Student" might be considered "about" betrayal. Instead, Chekhov gives different characters and reactions so that the reader doesn't fixate on something irrelevant.
Well, you're going to be seething with rage for the rest of this story because I'm not going to post text. The story is three pages!
That's an odd choice, actually. Why do like that scene? I found it kind of perfunctory. He had to introduce the widows and get the student to tell his story, so he wrote this scene to fill that purpose. I didn't think it a purpose of its own. I suppose it has its charm. I like the way the widow doesn't recognize him at first and then is surprised to see him. One thing is still don't get about their dialogue, though, is the line "You'll be rich." What does that mean?
One of the reasons I like the scene becasue there is something both very primal as well as universal in the idea of people gathering around the fire and sharing stories and expeinces. I think it is another way that the past and present connect, not just through the emotions and meaning behind the story. I also liked the fact that they were both placed in the garden. The widows are sitting within the gardens, while when Christ told Peter that he would deny him they two were in a garden. Perhaps that helps set up why Ivan choose that story to tell.
I did find the "rich" line to be a bit odd.
I suppose if you read those lines by themselves there is something primal about it. Also, the way the setting and characters are described makes the scene sort of close and intimate. It says, "A campfire was burning brightly with a crackling sound, throwing out light far around on the ploughed earth." The fact that there's nothing but level, fallow ground around them centers our attention on the fire. And, the only lighting is supplied by the flames, so it further draws our attention. The description of the characters also draws us to this point of time and place. The widows have just finished eating and working, so they have nothing to do, but listen to Ivan. The student, meanwhile, doesn't want to go home or think about home, so he's lingering near the village--also with nothing to do. The characters' inactivity and the small field of view each limit our attention to this moment and place. This makes the scene sort of close and intimate. The sparse details and dialogue, I suppose, help create the primitive feel of the scene.