NOTE-BOOK OF ANTON CHEKHOV
Translated by S. S. KOTELIANSKY and LEONARD WOOLF
1921
This volume consists of notes, themes, and sketches for works which Anton Chekhov intended to write, and are characteristic of the methods of his artistic production. Among his papers was found a series of sheets in a special cover with the inscription: 'Themes, thoughts, notes, and fragments.' Madame L.O. Knipper-Chekhov, Chekhov's wife, also possesses his note-book, in which he entered separate themes for his future work, quotations which he liked, etc. If he used any material, he used to strike it out in the note-book. The significance which Chekhov attributed to this material may be judged from the fact that he recopied most of it into a special copy book.
ANTON CHEKHOV'S NOTE-BOOKS
(1892-1904)
Mankind has conceived history as a series of battles; hitherto it has considered fighting as the main thing in life.
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Solomon made a great mistake when he asked for wisdom.[1]
[Footnote 1: Among Chekhov's papers the following monologue was found, written in his own hand:
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Ordinary hypocrites pretend to be doves; political and literary hypocrites pretend to be eagles. But don't be disconcerted by their aquiline appearance. They are not eagles, but rats or dogs.
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Those who are more stupid and more dirty than we are called the people. The administration classifies the population into taxpayers and non-taxpayers. But neither classification will do; we are all the people and all the best we are doing is the people's work.
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If the Prince of Monaco has a roulette table, surely convicts may play at cards.
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Iv. (Chekhov's brother Ivan) could philosophize about love, but he could not love.
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Why did Hamlet trouble about ghosts after death, when life itself is haunted by ghosts so much more terrible?
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A bedroom. The light of the moon shines so brightly through the window that even the buttons on his night shirt are visible.
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A nice man would feel ashamed even before a dog….
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A certain Councillor of State, looking at a beautiful landscape, said:
'What a marvelous function of nature!' From the note-book of an old
dog: 'People don't eat slops and bones which the cooks throw away.
Fools!'
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He had nothing in his soul except recollections of his schooldays.
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The French say: 'Laid comme un chenille'—as ugly as a caterpillar.
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People are bachelors or old maids because they rouse no interest, not even a physical one.
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The children growing up talked at meals about religion and laughed at fasts, monks, etc. The old mother at first lost her temper, then, evidently getting used to it, only smiled, but at last she told the children that they had convinced her, that she is now of their opinion. The children felt awkward and could not imagine what their old mother would do without her religion.
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There is no national science, just as there is no national multiplication table; what is national is no longer science.
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The dog walked in the street and was ashamed of its crooked legs.
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The difference between man and woman: a woman, as she grows old gives herself up more and more to female affairs; a man, as he grows old, withdraws himself more and more from female affairs.
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That sudden and ill-timed love-affair may be compared to this: you take boys somewhere for a walk; the walk is jolly and interesting—and suddenly one of them gorges himself with oil paint.
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The character in the play says to every one: 'You've got worms.' He cures his daughter of the worms, and she turns yellow.
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