Monday, August 13th, 2012
Selected short stories -1882-1887- translated by Constance Garnett
201 Stories by Anton Chekhov
About Anton Chekhov: One of Russia's greatest writers, Chekhov began his career writing jokes and anecdotes for popular magazines to support himself while he studied to become a doctor. Between 1888 and his death he single-handedly revolutionized both the drama and the short story. Near the end of his life he married an actress, Olga Knipper. He died from tuberculosis in 1904, age 44.
About this project: Constance Garnett translated and published 13 volumes of Chekhov stories in the years 1916-1922. Unfortunately, the order of the stories is almost random, and in the last volume Mrs. Garnett stated: 'I regret that it is impossible to obtain the necessary information for a chronological list of all Tchehov's works.' This site presents all 201 stories in the order of their publication in Russia.
http://www.eldritchpress.org/ac/jr/
'Reading Chekhov was just like the angels singing to me.' -- Eudora Welty, 1977
002 -
Joy
006 - The Death of a Government Clerk
010 - Fat and Thin
018 - A Chameleon
030 - The Huntsman
031 - A Malefactor
038 - Sorrow
044 - Children
045 - Misery
058 - Easter Eve
088 - Dreams
095 - Vanka
121 - Happiness
143 - Boys
144 - Kashtanka
JOY
by Anton Chekhov
IT was twelve o'clock at night.
Mitya Kuldarov, with excited face and ruffled hair, flew into his parents' flat, and hurriedly ran through all the rooms. His parents had already gone to bed. His sister was in bed, finishing the last page of a novel. His schoolboy brothers were asleep.
'Where have you come from?' cried his parents in amazement. 'What is the matter with you?
'Oh, don't ask! I never expected it; no, I never expected it! It's . . . it's positively incredible!'
Mitya laughed and sank into an armchair, so overcome by happiness that he could not stand on his legs.
'It's incredible! You can't imagine! Look!'
His sister jumped out of bed and, throwing a quilt round her, went in to her brother. The schoolboys woke up.
'What's the matter? You don't look like yourself!'
'It's because I am so delighted, Mamma! Do you know, now all Russia knows of me! All Russia! Till now only you knew that there was a registration clerk called Dmitry Kuldarov, and now all Russia knows it! Mamma! Oh, Lord!'
Mitya jumped up, ran up and down all the rooms, and then sat down again.
'Why, what has happened? Tell us sensibly!'
'You live like wild beasts, you don't read the newspapers and take no notice of what's published, and there's so much that is interesting in the papers. If anything happens it's all known at once, nothing is hidden! How happy I am! Oh, Lord! You know it's only celebrated people whose names are published in the papers, and now they have gone and published mine!'
'What do you mean? Where?'
The papa turned pale. The mamma glanced at the holy image and crossed herself. The schoolboys jumped out of bed and, just as they were, in short nightshirts, went up to their brother.
'Yes! My name has been published! Now all Russia knows of me! Keep the paper, mamma, in memory of it! We will read it sometimes! Look!'
Mitya pulled out of his pocket a copy of the paper, gave it to his father, and pointed with his finger to a passage marked with blue pencil.
'Read it!'
The father put on his spectacles.
'Do read it!'
The mamma glanced at the holy image and crossed herself. The papa cleared his throat and began to read: 'At eleven o'clock on the evening of the 29th of December, a registration clerk of the name of Dmitry Kuldarov . . .'
'You see, you see! Go on!'
'. . . a registration clerk of the name of Dmitry Kuldarov, coming from the beershop in Kozihin's buildings in Little Bronnaia in an intoxicated condition. . .'
'That's me and Semyon Petrovitch. . . . It's all described exactly! Go on! Listen!'
'. . . intoxicated condition, slipped and fell under a horse belonging to a sledge-driver, a peasant of the village of Durikino in the Yuhnovsky district, called Ivan Drotov. The frightened horse, stepping over Kuldarov and drawing the sledge over him, together with a Moscow merchant of the second guild called Stepan Lukov, who was in it, dashed along the street and was caught by some house-porters. Kuldarov, at first in an unconscious condition, was taken to the police station and there examined by the doctor. The blow he had received on the back of his head. . .'
