Cover of A Tragedian In Spite Of Himself

A Tragedian In Spite Of Himself

Auhtor: Anton Chekov

Language: english

Genres:

classic
Downloads: 414
eBook size: 8Kb

Review by A. Dent, January 2005


Rating: (***)
Copyright: Public Domain in the U.S.
Please check the copyright status in your country.

Summary of the Book 'A Tragedian In Spite Of Himself':

Anton Pavlovich Chekhov (29 January 1860 ? 15 July 1904) was a Russian short-story writer playwright and physician considered to be one of the greatest short-story writers in the history of world literature. His career as a dramatist produced four classics and his best short stories are held in high esteem by writers and critics. Chekhov practised as a doctor throughout most of his literary career: Medicine is my lawful wife he once said and literature is my mistress. Chekhov renounced the theatre after the disastrous reception of The Seagull in 1896 but the play was revived to acclaim in 1898 by Constantin Stanislavskis Moscow Art Theatre which subsequently also produced Uncle Vanya and premiered Chekhov?s last two plays Three Sisters and The Cherry Orchard. These four works present a challenge to the acting ensemble as well as to audiences because in place of conventional action Chekhov offers a theatre of mood and a submerged life in the text. Chekhov had at first written stories only for financial gain but as his artistic ambition grew he made formal innovations which have influenced the evolution of the modern short story. His originality consists in an early use of the stream-of-consciousness technique later adopted by James Joyce and other modernists combined with a disavowal of the moral finality of traditional story structure. He made no apologies for the difficulties this posed to readers insisting that the role of an artist was to ask questions not to answer them.

Excerpts from the Book 'A Tragedian In Spite Of Himself':


... {font-size:10 font-weight: bold font-family:courier text-align:center} h3 {page-break-before: alwaysborder-style: dottedfont-size:16 ...
... flat A TRAGEDIAN IN SPITE OF HIMSELF MURASHKIN'S study. Comfortable furniture. MURASHKIN is seated at his desk. ...
... I must have it. . . . Oh, little fathers! . . . give me some water . . . water quickly! . . . I must have it . . . I've got to ...
... martyr. I am a beast of burden, a nigger, a slave, a rascal who keeps on waiting here for something to happen instead of starting off for ...
... your neighbours hear it's all the same to me! If you don't give me a revolver somebody else will, and there will be an end of ...
... dickens of a chaos. The Secretary is on leave, Khrapov has gone to get married, and the smaller fry is mostly in the country, making ...
... then a reference back, another correction, another reference back it's all as monotonous as the waves of the sea. One's eyes, ...
... a bit of limp flesh, and you've got to run round and do errands. Where we live a pleasant custom has grown up: when a man goes ...
... copecks' worth twenty bottles of beer vinegar and corsets for Mlle. Shanceau at No. 82. . . . Ouf! And to bring home Misha's winter ...
... from the chemist's to the modiste's, from the modiste's to the pork butcher's, and then back again to the chemist's. In one ...
... lamp-globe or the carbolic acid with the tea? How are you to make a combination of beer-bottles and this bicycle? It's the labours of ...
... you put out, but what can I do? I just stand and blink my eyes like a whacked donkey. Now listen to this. I get home. You think ...
... fear of the interference of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. So you go and blink at A Family Scandal or ...
... quadrilles yourself. You get back from the theatre or the dance after midnight, when you are no longer a man but a useless, limp ...
... after. You smoke, and go for them, and cover yourself from head to foot, but it is no good! At last you have to sacrifice yourself and ...
... . . . Well, not having slept, you get up at six o'clock in the morning and off you go to the station. You run so as not to be ...
... to let a knife into somebody or hit him over the head with a chair. That's what life in a summer villa leads to! And nobody has any ...
... Finberg, who lives there? TOLKACHOV. I know her. We are even acquainted. MURASHKIN. How perfectly splendid! ...
... My dear fellow, wouldn't you do one little thing for me? Be a friend! Promise me now. TOLKACHOV. What's that? MURASHKIN. ...
... want blood! Blood! Blood! MURASHKIN. You've gone mad! TOLKACHOV. [Treading on his feet] I want blood! Blood! MURASHKIN. ...