The Bishop and Other StoriesChekhov, Anton Pavlovich
General
The Bishop and Other Stories
Chekhov, Anton Pavlovich
Chekhov, Anton Pavlovich, 1860-1904 -- Translations into English; Russia -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"There's great difficulty!" Ieronim wagged his head. "You can do
nothing by wisdom and holiness if God has not given you the gift.
The monks who don't understand argue that you only need to know the
life of the saint for whom you are writing the hymn, and to make
it harmonize with the other hymns of praise. But that's a mistake,
sir. Of course, anyone who writes canticles must know the life of
the saint to perfection, to the least trivial detail. To be sure,
one must make them harmonize with the other canticles and know where
to begin and what to write about. To give you an instance, the first
response begins everywhere with 'the chosen' or 'the elect.' . . .
The first line must always begin with the 'angel.' In the canticle
of praise to Jesus the Most Sweet, if you are interested in the
subject, it begins like this: 'Of angels Creator and Lord of all
powers!' In the canticle to the Holy Mother of God: 'Of angels the
foremost sent down from on high,' to Nikolay, the Wonder-worker--
'An angel in semblance, though in substance a man,' and so on.
Everywhere you begin with the angel. Of course, it would be impossible
without making them harmonize, but the lives of the saints and
conformity with the others is not what matters; what matters is the
beauty and sweetness of it. Everything must be harmonious, brief
and complete. There must be in every line softness, graciousness
and tenderness; not one word should be harsh or rough or unsuitable.
It must be written so that the worshipper may rejoice at heart and
weep, while his mind is stirred and he is thrown into a tremor. In
the canticle to the Holy Mother are the words: 'Rejoice, O Thou too
high for human thought to reach! Rejoice, O Thou too deep for angels'
eyes to fathom!' In another place in the same canticle: 'Rejoice,
O tree that bearest the fair fruit of light that is the food of the
faithful! Rejoice, O tree of gracious spreading shade, under which
there is shelter for multitudes!'"
Ieronim hid his face in his hands, as though frightened at something
or overcome with shame, and shook his head.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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