Swan Song , livre ebook

Pub One Info - Pavlovich Chekhov Anton

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

13 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

pubOne.info present you this new edition. THE last years of the nineteenth century were for Russia tinged with doubt and gloom. The high-tide of vitality that had risen during the Turkish war ebbed in the early eighties, leaving behind it a dead level of apathy which lasted until life was again quickened by the high interests of the Revolution. During these grey years the lonely country and stagnant provincial towns of Russia buried a peasantry which was enslaved by want and toil, and an educated upper class which was enslaved by idleness and tedium. Most of the "Intellectuals, " with no outlet for their energies, were content to forget their ennui in vodka and card-playing; only the more idealistic gasped for air in the stifling atmosphere, crying out in despair against life as they saw it, and looking forward with a pathetic hope to happiness for humanity in "two or three hundred years. " It is the inevitable tragedy of their existence, and the pitiful humour of their surroundings, that are portrayed with such insight and sympathy by Anton Tchekoff who is, perhaps, of modern writers, the dearest to the Russian people

Informations

Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	06 novembre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819934592
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0050€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

SWAN SONG
by Anton Checkov
Translated From The Russian, With AnIntroduction By Marian Fell
INTRODUCTION
ANTON TCHEKOFF
THE last years of the nineteenth century were forRussia tinged with doubt and gloom. The high-tide of vitality thathad risen during the Turkish war ebbed in the early eighties,leaving behind it a dead level of apathy which lasted until lifewas again quickened by the high interests of the Revolution. Duringthese grey years the lonely country and stagnant provincial townsof Russia buried a peasantry which was enslaved by want and toil,and an educated upper class which was enslaved by idleness andtedium. Most of the “Intellectuals, ” with no outlet for theirenergies, were content to forget their ennui in vodka andcard-playing; only the more idealistic gasped for air in thestifling atmosphere, crying out in despair against life as they sawit, and looking forward with a pathetic hope to happiness forhumanity in “two or three hundred years. ” It is the inevitabletragedy of their existence, and the pitiful humour of theirsurroundings, that are portrayed with such insight and sympathy byAnton Tchekoff who is, perhaps, of modern writers, the dearest tothe Russian people.
Anton Tchekoff was born in the old Black Sea port ofTaganrog on January 17, 1860. His grandfather had been a serf; hisfather married a merchant's daughter and settled in Taganrog,where, during Anton's boyhood, he carried on a small andunsuccessful trade in provisions. The young Tchekoff was soonimpressed into the services of the large, poverty-stricken family,and he spoke regretfully in after years of his hard-workedchildhood. But he was obedient and good-natured, and workedcheerfully in his father's shop, closely observing the idlers thatassembled there, and gathering the drollest stories, which he wouldafterward whisper in class to his laughing schoolfellows. Many werethe punishments which he incurred by this habit, which wasincorrigible.
His grandfather had now become manager of an estatenear Taganrog, in the wild steppe country of the Don Cossacks, andhere the boy spent his summers, fishing in the river, and rovingabout the countryside as brown as a gipsy, sowing the seeds of thatlove for nature which he retained all his life. His evenings heliked best to spend in the kitchen of the master's house among thework people and peasants who gathered there, taking part in theirgames, and setting them all laughing by his witty and tellingobservations.
When Tchekoff was about fourteen, his father movedthe family to Moscow, leaving Anton in Taganrog, and now, relievedof work in the shop, his progress at school became remarkable. Atseventeen he wrote a long tragedy, which was afterward destroyed,and he already showed flashes of the wit that was soon to blazeinto genius.
He graduated from the high school at Taganrog withevery honour, entered the University of Moscow as a student ofmedicine, and threw himself headlong into a double life of studentand author, in the attempt to help his struggling family.
His first story appeared in a Moscow paper in 1880,and after some difficulty he secured a position connected withseveral of the smaller periodicals, for which, during his studentyears, he poured forth a succession of short stories and sketchesof Russian life with incredible rapidity. He wrote, he tells us,during every spare minute, in crowded rooms where there was “nolight and less air, ” and never spent more than a day on any onestory. He also wrote at this time a very stirring blood-and-thunderplay which was suppressed by the censor, and the fate of which isnot known.