Chekhov Short Story Thread

[Quark]

I am leaving this Saturday

That's good. I don't have to rush things, then. Thanks for staying in the conversation this long. I know it's been kind of slow since everyone has disappeared, but it's a good story and I wanted to discuss it before the thread stopped again.

Let me look over the last section of text and see if there is anything else left to add before we move on to the last part.

[Dark Muse]

I have enjoyed it so far, even if the others all bailed. It is a good story.

[Quark]

I have enjoyed it so far, even if the others all bailed. It is a good story.

Oh, good. I thought you were just humoring me.

Anyway, here's the conclusion of the story:

But now, at last, the visitors have gone; the lights are put out, the master and mistress go to bed.

"Varka, rock the baby!" she hears the last order.

The cricket churrs in the stove; the green patch on the ceiling and the shadows from the trousers and the baby-clothes force themselves on Varka's half-opened eyes again, wink at her and cloud her mind.

"Hush-a-bye, my baby wee," she murmurs, "and I will sing a song to thee."

And the baby screams, and is worn out with screaming. Again Varka sees the muddy high road, the people with wallets, her mother Pelageya, her father Yefim. She understands everything, she recognises everyone, but through her half sleep she cannot understand the force which binds her, hand and foot, weighs upon her, and prevents her from living. She looks round, searches for that force that she may escape from it, but she cannot find it. At last, tired to death, she does her very utmost, strains her eyes, looks up at the flickering green patch, and listening to the screaming, finds the foe who will not let her live.

That foe is the baby.

She laughs. It seems strange to her that she has failed to grasp such a simple thing before. The green patch, the shadows, and the cricket seem to laugh and wonder too.

The hallucination takes possession of Varka. She gets up from her stool, and with a broad smile on her face and wide unblinking eyes, she walks up and down the room. She feels pleased and tickled at the thought that she will be rid directly of the baby that binds her hand and foot. . . . Kill the baby and then sleep, sleep, sleep. . . .

Laughing and winking and shaking her fingers at the green patch, Varka steals up to the cradle and bends over the baby. When she has strangled him, she quickly lies down on the floor, laughs with delight that she can sleep, and in a minute is sleeping as sound as the dead.

Before I comment on the actual text here, I want to point out that nothing has really changed from the beginning of the story. This scene is identical to the one at the beginning. Chekhov even draws attention to that by repeating the exact wordings he used before (I'm assuming this is true in the original Russian). The scenes in between, then, are not really a progression, but explanation of her current state. She could have killed the baby last night just as easily as this night. The only reason we're given the record of her previous night and day is to better explain her psychological state later on. It's important to rehash then what we've learned. First, we know that she's delerious. From what we've seen of her daily routine, it's easy to see why. Second, we know that Varka isn't going to get to sleep if she follows her master's orders. Varka didn't get to sleep last night, so there isn't any reason to believe she will get to sleep this night. Third, we know from her history that she has never really controlled anything in her life. Circumstances have always required her to do things, and she has never made any decision in her life. We can say fairly that she isn't used to making decisions, and so will probably not be able to make a good choice when pushed too far. Lastly, it's become clear that Varka has lost whatever natural affection she might have had for the child or its parents.

All of this we learn during the middle of the story; and, while it doesn't advance the story necessarily, it does build our understanding of Varka's character. Plus, it explains Varka's motives for killing the child.

[Dark Muse]

The cricket churrs in the stove; the green patch on the ceiling and the shadows from the trousers and the baby-clothes force themselves on Varka's half-opened eyes again, wink at her and cloud her mind.

I loved the way in which the end came around back to the begining, I thought that was a nice touch, and as you have mentioned, it does show the routine of her days, and how nothing will ever change for her.

I have noticed several times throughout the story, it mentions the state of her mind, and how her mind is being clouded, or it said something before about how her brain was being affected.

I think this is meant as another way to build up sympathy for her, and show that when she does the deed, she really is not completly at fault, becasue she is not really thinking, she does not truly know what she is doing. It is not herself that is acting.

And the baby screams, and is worn out with screaming. Again Varka sees the muddy high road, the people with wallets, her mother Pelageya, her father Yefim. She understands everything, she recognises everyone, but through her half sleep she cannot understand the force which binds her, hand and foot, weighs upon her, and prevents her from living. She looks round, searches for that force that she may escape from it, but she cannot find it. At last, tired to death, she does her very utmost, strains her eyes, looks up at the flickering green patch, and listening to the screaming, finds the foe who will not let her live.

That foe is the baby.

One thing I will critizie about this story, is the fact that it felt to me as if there was not any build up to the moment of her discovering that the baby is her foe. This part felt a bit rushed to me, but perhaps that is just me, but in one scentence it says how she cannot find the foe, and than a couple lines later she says it is the baby. When I was reading this story it felt a bit anti-climatic here.

The hallucination takes possession of Varka. She gets up from her stool, and with a broad smile on her face and wide unblinking eyes, she walks up and down the room. She feels pleased and tickled at the thought that she will be rid directly of the baby that binds her hand and foot. . . . Kill the baby and then sleep, sleep, sleep. . . .

I love this part of the story. I thought this moment was really very chilling.

Laughing and winking and shaking her fingers at the green patch, Varka steals up to the cradle and bends over the baby. When she has strangled him, she quickly lies down on the floor, laughs with delight that she can sleep, and in a minute is sleeping as sound as the dead.

Here we can see how she really is dillusional and and how her mind has finally completly snapped and she is pushed over the edge.

One of the things I like about my book is the last line says:

she sleeps soundly as the dead child

[Quark]

I loved the way in which the end came around back to the begining, I thought that was a nice touch, and as you have mentioned, it does show the routine of her days, and how nothing will ever change for her.

Yes, it's another repetition in the story. The sense of dull sameness is really hammered home by this point.

I have noticed several times throughout the story, it mentions the state of her mind, and how her mind is being clouded, or it said something before about how her brain was being affected.

I think this is meant as another way to build up sympathy for her

Definitely. He mental state has to deteriorate if we're not going to despise her at the end. She kills a baby. One would have to be out of their mind to do that.

One thing I will critizie about this story, is the fact that it felt to me as if there was not any build up to the moment of her discovering that the baby is her foe. This part felt a bit rushed to me

Isn't the whole story build up for this moment? That's why I summarized what we've learned about Varka up to this point. It all comes into play here. All those parts of her personality make her prone to this. I suppose one could argue that there isn't any reason why she should pick the baby instead of anything else, but I didn't think that that was much of a stretch. The baby is quite annoying. It's natural that she would pick it as the source of her problems.

I love this part of the story. I thought this moment was really very chilling.

Chilling is the right word. I was looking for a way to describe the scene, but couldn't get the right word. Chilling fits well. It combines sadness with terror and that's what this scene purveys.

One of the things I like about my book is the last line says:

That is good. I links the death of the child with her sleep. None of the other translations I've read, though, have included a line like that.

[Dark Muse]

Isn't the whole story build up for this moment? That's why I summarized what we've learned about Varka up to this point. It all comes into play here. All those parts of her personality make her prone to this. I suppose one could argue that there isn't any reason why she should pick the baby instead of anything else, but I didn't think that that was much of a stretch. The baby is quite annoying. It's natural that she would pick it as the source of her problems.

Perhaps I worded that wrong, I am not quite sure how to explain it really. Perhaps in a way it just felt like he glossed over this part, though I do not know.

I can understand why indeed she had choose the baby as her target, and well the child was starting to get on my nerves after a while. Though I understand for the sake of building sympathy why the child was cast in such a way, as he did come off as something of a brat constantly crying all the time, though of course the child could not truly be held responseble for this, but the baby was made to be grating upon the nerves and crying children are never pleasent.

[Quark]

Perhaps I worded that wrong, I am not quite sure how to explain it really. Perhaps in a way it just felt like he glossed over this part, though I do not know.

I read over it again and I think I might see what you mean. There isn't much of her thought-process given. It might help if we saw into her psychology a little more at this critical moment, but instead Chekhov merely gives us her final verdict: "That foe is the baby." Is this what you think he glossed over?

[Dark Muse]

Yes that is what I mean, that was what I was trying to say, we are not given much of a look as how she had gone from not knowing what the cause was, to suddenly her declaration that the child was the foe.

[Quark]

Yes that is what I mean, that was what I was trying to say, we are not given much of a look as how she had gone from not knowing what the cause was, to suddenly her declaration that the child was the foe.

Yet, if Chekhov did let us into her private mental state more the story might lose some of its effect. I think you said it right when you called it "chilling;" and, if we were given a full account of Varka's mind, it might not be so chilling. I have hard time faulting the ending of this story because the ending gets me every time. Even though we can tell something bad is coming, that sentence "That foe is the baby" is still shocking and powerful. Perhaps everyone isn't as affected as I am, but I think the conclusion is excellent (hence why I made it my signature).

[Dark Muse]

Yes you might be right about that. I could loose something if we were given more of an account of Varka's though process, and I did like the story.

[Quark]

I was reading over some of Chekhov's letters today when I ran across one that made me think about Chekhov's endings. In the letter he said that he felt rushed by the time constraint placed on him. He lamented that many of his stories start out with large aims, but have to be cut short in order to be completed by the date set for publication. This led many of them to end in "fireworks," by which he meant a spectacular conclusion (like a character suddenly dying or making some important revelation). We can see this happen in stories like "The Black Monk" or "The Grasshopper." The story moves very gradually at the beginning, but finishes in an explosion of pathos, conflict, and spectacle at the end. Unfortunately, in some cases the "fireworks" don't yield the desired effect. They can seem artificial and forced if not done right. If the story opens up too much--as in the two stories I mentioned before--the sudden ending doesn't seem to match. In "Sleepy," however, I think this is done just right. The ending naturally flows out of the rest of the story, and it doesn't seem like a forced conclusion. I'm not entirely sure how Chekhov writes this one differently, but I just wanted to point out that I though the ending was handled much better here. I suppose it has to with keeping the story more focused than his others, but I'll have to think about it more.

[Dark Muse]

That is a rather interesting bit of information.

[Quark]

One last thing:

I'm sure you're busy packing for Tahoe (and, once again, thanks for sticking in the discussion), but before you take off I want to comment on the chilling feeling in the conclusion. I think it deserves a little further thought. Earlier, I split the chilling sensation into two parts: terror and sadness. The sadness is a result of the tragic plot. Meanwhile, the spectacle creates the terror. Both the fear and sadness are handled quite well, and I want to trace them back to their sources in the story.

The story scares us because of Varka's madness primarily. The murder itself is actually glossed over. One might expect Chekhov to linger on the killing, but instead he nearly omits it. This is the closest Chekhov comes to referring to it:

Varka steals up to the cradle and bends over the baby. When she has strangled him, she quickly lies down on the floor

This omission makes the murder even more terrifying, though. It shows how casually she does it. If we were given a description of the death, it might make the scene more gruesome or pathetic than terrifying. By omitting it, Chekhov puts the focus back on Varka's madness which is the truly scary part of this scene. The madness scares because it's so divorced from reality, and because it's so desperate. Chekhov writes

She understands everything, she recognises everyone, but through her half sleep she cannot understand the force which binds her, hand and foot, weighs upon her, and prevents her from living. She looks round, searches for that force that she may escape from it, but she cannot find it. At last, tired to death, she does her very utmost, strains her eyes, looks up at the flickering green patch, and listening to the screaming, finds the foe who will not let her live.

"She cannot understand" and "She does her very utmost" are the two clauses which stick out. They show just how deluded and desperate Varka is. When the madness takes over she becomes even more deranged:

The hallucination takes possession of Varka. She gets up from her stool, and with a broad smile on her face and wide unblinking eyes, she walks up and down the room.

The crazed, pacing babysitter scares us more than the actual murder. It's Varka who provides the terror of the chilling conclusion.


The sadness of the ending comes from the typical formula for good tragedy: bad things happen to a character who draws our sympathy. In "Sleepy," Varka draws our sympathy through the main themes in the story. The themes of class, repression, mistaken associations, and sleep deprivation are all ones that people can relate to on some level. We know that the poor are treated unfairly or that people mistake one thing for another, so when Varka is treated cruelly for being poor or mistakes one thing for another we feel sympathy for her. Later, when she's driven to insanity, we feel tragic sadness. A bad thing has happened to a sympathetic character.


I could be wrong, but I think the chilling effect comes from the combination of the terror and sadness I described.

[Dark Muse]

The story scares us because of Varka's madness primarily. The murder itself is actually glossed over. One might expect Chekhov to linger on the killing, but instead he nearly omits it.

This omission makes the murder even more terrifying, though. It shows how casually she does it. If we were given a description of the death, it might make the scene more gruesome or pathetic than terrifying. By omitting it, Chekhov puts the focus back on Varka's madness which is the truly scary part of this scene. The madness scares because it's so divorced from reality, and because it's so desperate.

That is a very good point about the murder. I had not previously looked at it that way before, as I mentioned at first I was a bit dissapointed by how it came to be built up to so much just to be glossed over like that, but yes, what you say does make sense. It would have changed the dynmatic of the story. And perhpas in a way it would have also made Varka less sympatheic if it explained the deed in detail.

"She cannot understand" and "She does her very utmost" are the two clauses which stick out. They show just how deluded and desperate Varka is. When the madness takes over she becomes even more deranged:

The hallucination takes possession of Varka. She gets up from her stool, and with a broad smile on her face and wide unblinking eyes, she walks up and down the room.

This is acutally one of the things I liked better about the online text. In my book it replaces "hallucination" with "idea" but I do think hallucination is so much a better word and gives it a much stronger affect.

"The sadness of the ending comes from the typical formula for good tragedy: bad things happen to a character who draws our sympathy. In "Sleepy," Varka draws our sympathy through the main themes in the story. The themes of class, repression, mistaken associations, and sleep deprivation are all ones that people can relate to on some level. We know that the poor are treated unfairly or that people mistake one thing for another, so when Varka is treated cruelly for being poor or mistakes one thing for another we feel sympathy for her. Later, when she's driven to insanity, we feel tragic sadness. A bad thing has happened to a sympathetic character.


I could be wrong, but I think the chilling effect comes from the combination of the terror and sadness I described.

I also wondered if making Varka so young was also meant to aide in drawing sympathy, as at only 13 she cannot be fully exepcted to be completly rational, and to have a full grasp and understanding of her actions. If Varka was older, even under the circumstances one might exepect her to still no better.

But being only 13 and put through what she is, she herself is really but a child and I think this helps make her more identifiable with the reader, as really she is too young to be given such responseablies.

Also I think it is more easy to accept a child being driven to such missassocations than it would be with an adult or someone who was older and had a more mature mind.

[Quark]

This is acutally one of the things I liked better about the online text. In my book it replaces "hallucination" with "idea" but I do think hallucination is so much a better word and gives it a much stronger affect.

I like "hallucination" better, too. It's a much stronger word.

I also wondered if making Varka so young was also meant to aide in drawing sympathy, as at only 13 she cannot be fully exepcted to be completly rational

The age certainly makes her more susceptible to her madness. Sometimes I forget that she's thirteen because Chekhov slips it in at the beginning and then doesn't refer back to it. The age, though, is very important.