Letter · 1879

To M. P. Chekhov, 1879. Taganrog.

M. П. Чехову, Апрель, не ранее 5, 1879 г. Таганрог.

Headnote

Written in April 1879 from Taganrog, this letter is addressed to Chekhov’s younger brother Mikhail Pavlovich ("Misha"), then thirteen and still living in Moscow with the rest of the family while the nineteen-year-old Anton finished his last year of school in Taganrog, tutoring the young ward Georgy to support himself. Mikhail Pavlovich would go on to become his brother’s most devoted archivist and biographer; here he is still a boy whose letters Anton reads and corrects with the mixture of teasing and real seriousness that marks his whole correspondence with his younger siblings.

The letter is best known for its central paragraph, in which Chekhov answers his brother’s self-deprecating description of himself as an "insignificant and unnoticeable little brother" with a sharp distinction between two things easily confused: humbling oneself, which one may do before God, before beauty, before nature – and abasing one’s own dignity before other people, which one must never do. The formulation is plainer and more compressed here than in the far more famous 1886 letter to Nikolai that develops the idea of what a "cultured person" is, but the core conviction is the same one Chekhov held for the rest of his life: self-respect among people is a moral obligation, not a vanity.

Around that center the letter has the loose, itemizing shape typical of Chekhov’s early letters home: a report on Georgy’s schoolboy games and parcels, a running joke about a hawfinch that got away, and a stack of reading recommendations – Cervantes’s Don Quixote, Turgenev’s essay pairing Don Quixote and Hamlet, Goncharov’s travel narrative The Frigate Pallada – that show the reading already shaping the future writer. It closes on a practical, faintly comic note: arrangements for a paying boarder Anton will bring to Moscow, and a dry aside about how little 20 roubles covers against a Moscow landlady’s housekeeping and the school’s own stinginess toward its boarders.

Апрель, не ранее 5, 1879 г. Таганрог.
Your letter reached me right in the thick of the most hideous boredom, yawning at the gate, so you can judge how welcome it was, huge as it was. Your hand is good, and in the whole letter I didn’t find a single grammatical mistake. One thing I don’t like: why do you dignify your own person with "insignificant and unnoticeable little brother"? Are you conscious of your own insignificance? Not every Misha, brother, needs to be the same. Be conscious of your insignificance – but you know where? Before God, if you like, before intellect, beauty, nature – but not before people. Among people one must be conscious of one’s own dignity. You’re not a swindler, are you, but an honest man? Well then, respect the honest fellow in yourself, and know that an honest fellow is no insignificance. Don’t confuse "humbling yourself" with "being conscious of your own insignificance." Georgy has grown. He’s a good boy. I often play knucklebones with him. He got the parcels you sent. You do well to read books. Get into the habit of reading. In time you’ll come to value that habit. Did Madame Beecher Stowe wring tears from your eyes? I read her once myself, and read her again half a year ago for scholarly purposes, and after reading felt the unpleasant sensation mortals feel after overeating raisins or currants. The hawfinch I promised you has run off, and I have very little idea where it’s gotten to. I’ll manage to bring you something else. Read the following books: "Don Quixote" (the complete one, in 7 or 8 parts). A fine thing. A work of Cervantes, whom they put on almost the same shelf as Shakespeare. I advise the brothers to read, if they haven’t already, Turgenev’s "Don Quixote and Hamlet." You, brother, won’t understand it. If you want to read a travel account that isn’t dull, read Goncharov’s "The Frigate Pallada" and so on. Give Masha a special bow from me through you. Don’t grieve that I’ll be coming late. Time runs by briskly, however much you complain of boredom. I’ll be bringing a boarder with me, who will pay 20 roubles a month and be under our own management. I’m going to haggle with his mama about it. Say your prayers!! However much you pray, she’ll give 20 roubles. Though even 20 roubles is little, if you take into account Moscow’s high prices and mama’s character – feeding a lodger the way one ought to. Our teachers take 350 roubles, and feed the poor boys, like dogs, on gravy from the roast.
Письмо твое я получил как раз в самый разгар ужаснейшей скуки, зевая у ворот, а потому ты можешь судить, как оно, огромнейшее, пришлось весьма кстати. Почерк у тебя хорош, и во всем письме я не нашел у тебя ни единой грамматической ошибки. Не нравится мне одно: зачем ты величаешь особу свою "ничтожным и незаметным братишкой". Ничтожество свое сознаешь? Не всем, брат, Мишам надо быть одинаковыми. Ничтожество свое сознавай, знаешь где? Перед богом, пожалуй, пред умом, красотой, природой, но не пред людьми. Среди людей нужно сознавать свое достоинство. Ведь ты не мошенник, честный человек? Ну и уважай в себе честного малого и знай, что честный малый не ничтожность. Не смешивай "смиряться" с "сознавать свое ничтожество". Георгий вырос. Мальчик он добрый. Я с ним часто играю в бабки. Посылки твои он получил. Хорошо делаешь, если читаешь книги. Привыкай читать. Со временем ты эту привычку оценишь. Мадам Бичер-Стоу выжала из глаз твоих слезы? Я ее когда-то читал, прочел и полгода тому назад с научной целью и почувствовал после чтения неприятное ощущение, которое чувствуют смертные, наевшись не в меру изюму или коринки. Дубонос, тебе обещанный, сбежал, и место его пребывания мне весьма мало известно. Умудрюсь привезти тебе что-нибудь другое. Прочти ты следующие книги: "Дон-Кихот" (полный, в 7 или 8 частей). Хорошая вещь. Сочинение Сервантеса, которого ставят чуть ли не на одну доску с Шекспиром. Советую братьям прочесть, если они еще не читали, "Дон-Кихот и Гамлет" Тургенева. Ты, брате, не поймешь. Если желаешь прочесть нескучное путешествие, прочти "Фрегат Паллада" Гончарова и т. д. Маше через тебя посылаю особенный поклон. О том, что приеду поздно, не горюйте. Время бежит живо, как ни хвастай скукой. Я привезу с собой пансионера, который будет платить 20 руб. в месяц и находиться под нашим собственным ведением. Еду к его маменьке торговаться. Молитесь!! Как ни молитесь, а 20 руб. даст. Впрочем, и 20 руб. мало, если принять в соображение московскую дороговизну и мамашин характер – кормить жильца по-божески. Наши учителя берут по 350 р., а кормят бедных мальчишек, как собак, юшкой от жаркого.

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