Letters of Anton Chekhov to His Family and FriendsChekhov, Anton Pavlovich
General
Letters of Anton Chekhov to His Family and Friends
Chekhov, Anton Pavlovich
Authors, Russian -- 19th century -- Correspondence; Chekhov, Anton Pavlovich, 1860-1904 -- Correspondence
The author of “Ward No. 6” has been moved from Ward No. 16 to Ward No. 14.
There is plenty of room here, two windows, lighting a la Potapenko, three
tables. There is very little haemorrhage. After the evening when Tolstoy
was here (we talked for a long time) at four o’clock in the morning I had
violent haemorrhage again.
Melihovo is a healthy place; it stands exactly on a watershed, on high
ground, so that there is never fever or diphtheria in it. They have
decided, after general consultation, that I am not to go away anywhere but
to go on living at Melihovo. I must only arrange the house somewhat more
comfortably....
MOSCOW,
April 7, 1897.
... You write that my ideal is laziness. No, it is not laziness. I despise
laziness as I despise weakness and lack of mental and moral energy. I was
not talking of laziness but of leisure, and I did not say leisure was an
ideal but only one of the essential conditions of personal happiness.
If the experiments with Koch’s new serum give favourable results, I shall
go of course to Berlin. Feeding is absolutely no use to me. Here for the
last fortnight they have been feeding me zealously, but it’s no use, I have
not gained weight.
I ought to get married. Perhaps a cross wife would cut down the number of
my visitors by at least a half. Yesterday they were coming all day long, it
was simply awful. They came two at a time--and each one begs me not to
speak and at the same time asks me questions....
TO A. I. ERTEL.
MELIHOVO,
April 17, 1897.
DEAR FRIEND ALEXANDR IVANOVITCH,
I am now at home. For a fortnight before Easter I was lying in Ostroumov’s
clinic and was spitting blood. The doctor diagnosed tuberculosis in the
lungs. I feel splendid, nothing aches, nothing is uneasy inside, but the
doctors have forbidden me _vinum_, movement, and conversation, they have
ordered me to eat a great deal, and forbidden me to practise--and I feel as
it were dreary.
I hear nothing about the People’s Theatre. At the congress it was spoken of
apathetically, without interest, and the circle that had undertaken to
write its constitution and set to work have evidently cooled off a little.
It is due to the spring, I suppose. The only one of the circle I saw was
Goltsev, and I had not time to talk to him about the theatre.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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