Anton went to see Khudekov, the editor of The Petersburg Gazette: Khudekov's wife attracted Anton, but it was Khudekov's sister-in-law who responded. Lidia Avilova, mother of two and writer of children's stories, was infatuated. She had little encouragement - Anton avoided affairs with married women with children - but saw herself as the love of Chekhov's life, encrypted into Chekhov's fiction. Other female company was uncomplicated. Pleshcheev and Shcheglov left Anton free tickets to go out with George Lintvariov to the Prikazchik club:
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MY It Ê (» I 11 I Ê '• ' Ê Ã. E 1» E Ê 'If you're going there for "erotic" purposes, we are superfluous.' With Nastia Suvorina Anton established a joking avuncular relationship.37 Only Grigorovich still hoped to see them married. Anna Suvorina recalled: 'My daughter was interested in anything but famous writers. Anton often told her that he wouldn't mind doing what Grigorovich wanted but on condition "Nastia, your daddy has to give us a dowry: his publishing firm as my property and his monthly magazine…"' On 31 January 1889 the Petersburg premiere of Ivanov took place. It had, even its enemies admitted, great success. Davydov's obesity expressed Ivanov's moral paralysis. Russia's unhappiest actress, Strepe-tova, put her suffering into Sarra. They brought the house down at the end of Act 3. Strepetova could not stop crying. Anton momentarily felt the cast were 'kith and kin'. Modest Tchaikovsky, Bilibin, and Barantsevich were moved. Many proclaimed the play the equal of Griboedov's or Gogol's dramas. Some had doubts: Shcheglov's diary noted 'drafts blowing across the stage, the author's inexperience and the absence of finish.' Suvorin felt that Ivanov's character never develops, that the women characters were sketchy - allegations which Anton repudiated. Lidia Avilova, however, was watching him intently at the party backstage: Anton kept his word and sent me a ticket to Ivanov… How he stood, strained and awkward, as if he was tied down. And in that glimmer of a smile I sensed a morbid tension, such tiredness and anguish that my arms drooped with helplessness. I had no doubt, despite the noisy success, that Anton was dissatisfied and unhappy. Anton fled to Moscow before the second performance on 3 February. The play had only five performances that season, although every house enthused. More sober evaluations came by post. Vladimir Nemirovich-Danchenko, then a playwright, but not yet a director, spoke for posterity on Ivanov: You are die most talented… and I subscribe to this without the slightest feeling of envy, but I shan't consider Ivanov to be among your best work… but to be among the original drafts of beautiful pieces.38 Ivanov brought Anton two new friends. Nemirovich-Danchenko was in ten years to be the interpreter of Chekhov's drama and then a close friend of Anton's wife. The other was Pavel Svobodin, who played
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Ivanov's uncle Shabelsky. Svobodin was bewitched by Anton for the rest of his short life. Svobodin and Anton were two over-worked consumptives, with contradictory streaks of idealism and cynicism. Svobodin believed in Chekhov's genius and, with Suvorin, pushed Anton into finishing his next play, The Wood Demon.
In Moscow Anton tried to help his less fortunate friends Gruzinsky, Ezhov and Barantsevich: he offered to revise their work, he persuaded Suvorin to take them on, but the acolytes felt insecure when they visited the Chekhovs in the winter of 1888-9. Gruzinsky, normally a good-natured man, resented the claims that Kolia, Vania, Masha and Pavel had on Anton. He and Ezhov loathed losing at whist to Vania (a game that Anton refused to learn). They disliked Masha and found Pavel sinister. Gruzinsky's letters to Ezhov snarclass="underline" Ivan Chekhov is a weird character and, as Bilibin says of his older brother Aleksandr, 'a crooked personality'… I don't like Chekhov's father. Yes, certainly he was a tyrant and a wild beast. That sort almost always develop into 'unctuous' types… Maria Chekhova in passing argued that there is nothing more selfish man talent and genius. That was an allusion to her brother who is bursting his guts for them.39 Ezhov saw Anton's parents in a poor light. He recalled Easter 1889: Once Chekhov told his friends at tea: 'Do you know, gentlemen, our cook is getting married. I'd like to take you to the wedding, but I'm afraid the cook's guests will start beating us up.' - 'Antosha,' remarked his mother, 'You should read them your poetry and they won't.' Chekhov… suddenly frowned and said, 'Mother still thinks I write poetry.'40 It was true that Anton's parents may never have read, or listened to, a word of his stories or plays. Ezhov was as envious as he was protective, and he soured his crony Gruzinsky, who complained to Ezhov: Anton Chekhov is strange: he says it's terribly easy to go to Petersburg. His talent gives him perverted ideas about money… He asked me how much Leikin was paying me. [Anton said:] 'Too little, awfully little… I get 70-80, once I got 90 roubles.' And I'm grateful for 40! Anton found celebrities better company. Pleshcheev came to Moscow to celebrate his birthday and Shrovetide: he gorged on pancakes.
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MY ÍÏÎ I III lis' KEEPER Anton summoned his colleague I)r Obolonsky to treat the elderly poet. Suvorin promised to come and watch his Tatiana Repina, which, unlike Ivanov, was still running. He sent a balalaika (with no strings) and some photo-portraits of Chekhov; then came a telegram from Anna Suvorina: 'HUSBAND NOW LEFT FOR Moscow DON'T FORGET MEET HIM CHEER HIM AND AMUSE PROPERLY BUT SAME TIME REMEMBER ME.'41 Suvorin did not stay long. Renewed links encouraged the Dauphin to resume writing to Anton: he kept off Jews but, in the spirit of New Times, praised the Cossack Ashinov for invading the Horn of Africa. Anton, with embarrassment, confessed that he knew two of the invaders.42 The Dauphin also reported that their Tatar neighbour in Feodosia had seen Ivanov: the play had induced a fit of hysterics in a lady in the audience.
Ivanov brought in nearly a thousand roubles: 'A play is a pension,' declared Anton. The Chekhovs made merry. Leikin pricked the bubble and told Chekhov that he had lost money by putting the play on late in the season (State Theatres closed on the first day of Lent), that his play gave actors no breaks for applause. Leikin added every drop of gall he could: he reported Palmin's wild slanders. Anton responded: I haven't seen Palmin once this month. How does he know I am losing blood, ill and afraid of madness? I haven't had any haemorrhage, thank God, since I left Petersburg (only just a little)… I have no reasons to fear sudden insanity for I don't drink vodka for days on end, I don't go in for spiritualism or masturbation, I don't read the poet Palmin. Palmin, when challenged, told Leikin that his information came from Kolia. Leikin's dogs, not his opinions, interested Anton. Leikin had acquired a pair of dachshunds and was so much in love with them that he finally had to promise puppies to Anton.
Friendly with so many of the Lintvariov circle, the Chekhovs were bound to return to Luka that summer. Anton began composing The Wood Demon in his head, to write in its natural setting, the Lintvariov estate and the mills on the Psiol. He spent money: he bought a set of Dostoevsky and read it, apparently for the first time: 'good, but very long and immodest. A lot of pretensions.' For fun Anton then composed his most extraordinary play: a sequel to Suvorin's Tatiana
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Repina. Chekhov shows Suvorin's hero, who drove Repina to suicide, marrying in church: the marriage service is ruined by a mysterious lady in black who takes poison, and 'the rest I leave to the imagination of A. S. Suvorin'. The genius of Chekhov's parody sequel lies in the mingling of casual gossip by minor characters with the text of the liturgy which Chekhov knew so well. Anton sent the play to Suvorin: Suvorin went to his print room and had two copies printed, one for himself and one for Anton.