Information had come to Chekhov that Moscow military authorities,
1 Only recently has the original "Yalta manuscript" of The Three Sisters been discovered in Russia. A comparison between this version and the printed edition that appeared in Chekhov's lifetime reveals the extensive revisions he made in the drama. The play was first printed in the February issue of Russian Thought, 1901, without his being able to correct the proof, and next in Volume VII of the collected edition of his works, 1902. For a study of the changes, see A. R. Vladimir- skaya, "Dve rannie redaktsii pesy Tri Sestry," in Literaturnoe Nasledstvo ("Two Early Versions of The Three Sisters," in Literary Heritage), Moscow, i960, LXVIII, i-86.
hearing that he had written a play about army officers, were fearful that he intended to satirize them. Actually, he had specifically instructed Stanislavsky that the officers must be played realistically and not as the typical stage caricatures of the time, for he regarded them as enlightened bearers of culture in the provincial town that was the setting of The Three Sisters. And he had insisted that his friend, Colonel Viktor Petrov, should attend rehearsals and check on all aspects of military dress and deportment. The colonel, it appears, took his assignment too literally, for he objected, in a letter to Chekhov, that to permit the married officer Vershinin to seduce another man's wife was an act of immorality outside the military code.
In nearly every letter to Olga now, Chekhov begged for news about the progress of rehearsals. He had given her many more words in his revision of her role, he chided, begrudged her nothing, so why did she not report to him? His play would be a failure, he gloomily confided to her, and now he wondered why he had ever written it. This mood of uncertainty was partly a reflection of his mounting discontent with Nice after he had been there only a few weeks. Exquisite summer weather, yes. Flowers, ladies, bicycles — but it was only an oleograph. And he knew more people at Nice than at Yalta; it was impossible to hide from them. He even deplored the amount of Russian money wasted at Monte Carlo, some of it his own. Only her "dear," "clever," and "poetic" letters sustained him. You need a husband, he told her, a spouse with side-whiskers and a cockade. And what am I? he asked dolefully, and answered: No great shakes. "However that may be, I kiss you affectionately, hug you furiously, and once more thank you for your letter, and bless you, my joy. Write to me, write. I beg you!!" (January 2, igoi.)
In the meantime, his sister, who had been spending the Christmas vacation at Yalta with her mother, wrote: "Without you, the Yalta house is empty and boring. If you would only come home for Easter, it would be wonderful! The sun pours into your study and makes it cozy and cheerful. I'm very sad at leaving! I kiss you affectionately." She could see little point in his being away from the Yalta house, which she had grown-to love, at that time of the year. Back in Moscow she heard from him after a lapse of some time, and on January 22 she replied in a hurt tone: "I imagined that you had been ill but I was afraid to send you a telegram. Knipper has done this and I'm satisfied." The implication was that Olga, unlike his sister, did not have to worry over his annoyance at being asked about the state of his health. Masha suspected or was aware that her brother and Olga were now lovers and she was concerned; both she and her mother had observed their conduct together that previous summer with some disapproval.
Since he had anxiously asked Masha for a report on the rehearsals of his play, she hastened to reply on January 28: "The first dress rehearsal of The Three Sisters took place yesterday. I sat in the theater and wept, especially during the third act. They staged and acted it splendidly." She continued with criticism of several of the actors, told of her difficulty in persuading Olga to dispense with a red wig which made her head too large, but she assured him that the play would enjoy a big succcss.
However, Chekhov did not receive this letter until after the premiere of The Three Sisters, which took place on January 31. In fact, he was unaware that the play had been performed. Unable to stand Nice any longer, he had set out for Pisa on January 26 — he wanted to see the Sahara, and his original intention was to go to Algeria, but Kovalevsky and the Villefranche zoologist A. A. Korotnev, who went along, persuaded him to give up the sea voyage because of a bad storm. His change of plans temporarily broke his connections with Moscow, and telegrams about the success of The Three Sisters from Olga and Nemirovich-Danchenko went astray.
It was just as well, for his informants stretched a point in their praise, perhaps out of consideration for Chekhov's health. As Stanislavsky asserted later, The Three Sisters had only a middling success on its first performance. Nemirovich-Danchenko and Gorky at once singled it out as the profoundest and most effective of Chekhov's plays, but it took the general public and the critics several years to recognize this fact. No doubt a subjective note is heard in the "to Moscow, to Moscow" theme of the three sisters, reflecting Chekhov's own yearning to leave his "warm Siberia" of Yalta for the life and love that Moscow represented. And one suspects that he created the character of Masha with the acting abilities of Olga Knipper very much in mind. Masha, with her earthy, blunt, yet sensitive nature, stands in striking contrast to her duty-loving sister Olga and to Irina with her passion for work. Certainly Masha is one of Chekhov's finest stage creations.
The subtle interaction of symbol and reality creates an atmosphere of unusual psychological density in The Three Sisters and contributes to the difficulty of understanding the play. And the inner action, so characteristic of Chekhov's last four plays, is made more meaningful through the medium of the seemingly disconnected dialogue. For beneath the surface features of the dull, commonplace existence of the people of this provincial town Chekhov reveals the ultimate values of life which stir and yet so often evade these characters. Tuzenbach, in his love for Irina, ironically identifies himself with her doctrine of work. In a kind of revolutionary fervor he declares that something formidable will soon sweep the world clean of laziness, indifference, and prejudice against work. Vershinin, in love with Masha, associates himself with what he imagines is her mission to spread culture in her backward town, and he eloquently dreams of the beautiful and glorious life two or three hundred years hence when society will be led by cultured people. But the down-to-earth Masha sums it all up in a Che- khovian sense: "Life is all right if you don't waste it!"
However, the illusion of happiness is perhaps the main theme of the play. In the end the three sisters fail to make their way to the imaginary paradise of Moscow. Irina's hopes are dashed by the death of her lover Tuzenbach in a duel, and Masha's lover Vershinin marches off with his wife and children to a new military assignment. As in the conclusion of Uncle Vanya, however, Chekhov distills from frustration and failure a renewed faith in life and its purpose. Though this ending may be interpreted as another illusion of happiness, given the natures and values of the three gallant sisters, one suspects that this was not Chekhov's intention. As the band plays and the troops march off, Masha declares that she and her sisters must start their life anew; they must live. Irina agrees and adds that she will dedicate herself to work in service to those who need her. Olga embraces them both in affirmation: "Oh, my dear sisters, our life is not yet at an end. Let us live! The music plays so gaily and joyfully, and it seems that in a little while we shall know why we live and why we suffer. If only we knew! If only we knew!"