There can be no question of where Chekhov's sympathies lay in the Kishinev pogrom which appalled the Western world. When the eminent Jewish author Sholem Alcichcm asked him to contribute a new story or one of his old tales in translation to a collection to be published in Warsaw to aid the victims, he promptly replied that he would write one if his health permitted. As for using his published stories, "they are at your entire disposal, and Yiddish translations of them published in your collection for the benefit of the Kishinev Jewish victims would afford me heartfelt pleasure."[16] (June 19, 1903.)
During this unusual summer spurt of energy Chekhov also worked
This open letter appeared in Liberation, June 2, 1903. Though the piece circulated illegally in lithograph copies in Russia, it could be printed only abroad at that time.
on the sccond set of proofs of The Betrothed, and he may have done some correcting on an additional eleventh and final volume of the Marx edition which contained his most recent stories. For in his letter to Suvorin on June 29 he pointed out that this volume would soon appear and would contain some tales which his friend had probably never read. When Marx had bought his writings, Chekhov now confessed to Suvorin — with perhaps a twinge of regret over the sum he had received — the publisher had imagined that they would print up to only three or four volumes!
Perhaps influenced by the belief that he would hereafter be living near Moscow for a good part of the year, Chekhov, who had always refused formal editorial connections with magazines, now accepted Golt- sev's invitation to take charge of the literary department of Russian Thought. Financial considerations no doubt had a bearing on his decision, but it was a surprising one in the light of his wretched health. This move, however, seemed a part of his desire for a radical change in his life after Dr. Ostroumov's diagnosis. Though he did not plan to assume his new duties immediately, Chekhov read some manuscripts of stories for Russian Thought that summer. And he zealously pursued an idea suggested by the Tolstoyan Sergeenko: that he begin his editorship with a grand flourish by bringing to the magazine the manuscript of Tolstoy's remarkable tale Hadji Murad — а possibility which he lost through no fault of his own.5
Though Olga seems to have enjoyed the luxury of Mariya Yakunchi- kova's estate, living there soon palled on Chekhov. Rather unenthusiastically he wrote to Masha about his hostess, saying she was neither a bad nor a stupid woman. Several months later, provoked by Olga's weakness for this kind of society, he frankly declared to her: "For some reason I keep thinking of every day of life at Yakunchikova's. It would be difficult to find again such a hideously idle, absurd, and tasteless existence as that in her white house. The people lived exclusively for the pleasure of seeing General Gadon0 or of going out with the deputy minister, Prince Obolensky. And how can Vishnevsky, who reveres these people as though they were gods, fail to understand it? There were only two good persons worthy of respect in the place,
6 Tolstoy decided not to publish Hadji Murad during his lifetime bccause of the controversy with his wife over the sale of his works.
6 Actually, Colonel V. S. Gadon, adjutant of the Governor-General of Moscow.
Natalya Yakovlevna7 and Maxim.8 The others were . . . Well, let us drop the subject." (October 21,1903.)
It is not surprising, then, that shortly after he arrived at the estate, Chekhov informed Masha that he expected to return to Yalta in August. In fact, he had come to a decision, which probably did not entirely square with Dr. Ostroumov's orders, to spend the winter months, November, December, and January, and then May, June, July, and August in or near Moscow, and the rest of the time at Yalta. A series of letters from Masha, ecstatic about the wonderful weather at Yalta, neither hot nor dry and with frequent showers which turned the garden there into a paradise of bloom, convinced him that he was wasting his time at Yakunchikova's. Never had he heard of Yalta's weather being so attractive in the summer, he wrote Masha, whose poetic bulletins were no doubt also inspired by the desire to see her brother. And they were successful, for he and Olga left for Yalta at the beginning of July instead of in August.
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Masha had not exaggerated. The frequent gentle rains had neutralized the customary summer heat and dust of Yalta, and all growing things flourished. Chekhov found the garden a riot of color and the interior of the house freshly redecorated by his industrious sister. Olga took advantage of the Gurzuf bungalow to rest, swim, and stroll on the beach. She grew plumper and healthier, Chekhov observed approvingly, showing no traces of her recent illness. And as usual she fussed over him, over his clothes and diet, even assisting in the daily sponge bath which she decreed. But again Olga fell afoul of the jealous guardianship which his mother and sister exercised over these details of his existence. Shortly after she left, Olga wrote him: "Why is it that when I'm there it is always difficult? Why do you torment me and never do anything? . . . But as soon as I go away, or as soon as you leave me, then remedies are prescribed and you begin feeding up, and Masha can do anything for you."
The family was not much disturbed by visitors while Olga was at Yalta. On August 14 Chekhov wrote to his medical school comrade, D. T. Saveliev, whom he had regretted not seeing when he was nearby at Naro-Fominsk, that another of their classmates, "Makar" Zembula-
Natalya Yakovlevna Davydova, an artist.
A worker on the estate.
tov, had called on him at Yalta. He has grown horribly fat, said Chekhov, but Korobov, the fourth of the group of roommates of those old student days, has grown gray. "In short," he remarked, "little by little all of us subside into a state of venerableness." Chekhov also made the acquaintance that summer of N. G. Garin-Mikhailovsky, a railway engineer by profession but also a minor fiction writer of some charm and popularity. He was then engaged in surveying the possibilities of a Crimean railroad, and assisting him was Olga's amiable brother, Konstantin Knipper, who frequently visited the Chckhovs.
Garin-Mikhailovsky introduced the artist N. Z. Panov, who did a black-and-whitc portrait study of Chekhov. In the course of the sittings they discusscd Levitan and the eminent scientist Ilya Mechnikov, whose theories on the problems of old age much interested Chekhov. When the artist brought up the subjcct of Mechnikov's belief in the possibilities of prolonging human life, Chekhov sharply answered: "It is unnecessary! Wc need another kind of Mcchnikov who could make ordinary life healthy and beautiful. And I think that this will come about."
The news that Chekhov intended to acccpt the editorship of the literary scction of Russian Thought had already been publicized, for no sooner did he arrive at Yalta than manuscripts began to pour in. Goltsev also started to turn over to him now the magazine's current file in belles lettres. Chekhov needed all that strange fund of energy he had summoned up — a last miraculous expenditure of vital forces at the end of the racc — to copc with this task. Yet he tacklcd it uncomplainingly, although he had been under the impression that his new duties would not really begin until the start of the next year. Successive batchcs of manuscript were returned to Goltsev with his selections and editorial annotations. Even Alexander, always on the lookout for a sure literary market, tried to make use of his brother's new connection, but Chekhov deftly put him off by replying that the remuneration of Russian Thought was unworthy of him. It was unworthy of Chekhov also, for when Goltsev, in the fall, offered him two hundred roubles for all the editorial labor he had expended up to that point, Chekhov ironically replied that it was not worth a rouble and promised to get in touch with him about the matter when he was next in Moscow.