Letter · 1889

To N. A. Leikin, 13 August 1889. Sumy.

Н. А. ЛЕЙКИНУ, 13 августа 1889 г. Сумы.

Headnote

Letter to Nikolai Alexandrovich Leikin, 13 August 1889, Sumy.

Chekhov writes from the Lintvaryov estate at Luka, near Sumy (Kharkov province, Ukraine), where the family was summering on the Psyol river. His younger brother Nikolai Chekhov, a talented but dissolute painter, had died of tuberculosis on 17 June 1889 at Luka. This letter is Chekhov’s first substantial report to Leikin since that death and the trip that followed it. Leikin (1841-1906) was a prolific humorist, editor of the Petersburg magazine "Oskolki" ("Fragments"), and Chekhov’s early publisher/mentor in the 1880s; their relationship by 1889 was warm but increasingly business-inflected, with Chekhov having largely moved on to more prestigious outlets (Suvorin’s "Novoye Vremya").

Chekhov reports on the aftermath of his brother Nikolai’s death and funeral, describing his grief and the family’s mourning; a subsequent trip meant for abroad (Vienna) that was diverted to Odessa and then Yalta after money ran short; and impressions of the provincial Russian book trade gathered while traveling, which he judges poorly run and dependent on capital-city booksellers opening branches. He recommends a Yalta publisher-bookseller, Daniil Mikhailovich Gorodetsky, to Leikin as a reliable commission agent for distributing Leikin’s books along the Crimean-Caucasian coast, and specifies terms (40%, 30% for one-ruble books) and a request for 25 copies each of "Pyostrye rasskazy" ("Motley Stories," a Chekhov collection published by Leikin) and of works by Palmin. He raises an open question of mutual accounts between himself and Leikin, asks jokingly for money if he is owed, sends regards, and notes his planned return to Moscow in early September.

SENSITIVITY / TONE FLAGS: The letter is candid and at points crude in Chekhov’s characteristic register — do not soften. Section 4 contains an overtly sexist/objectifying remark about Yalta ("a Tatar-and-ladies’ city,one man to every twenty women," difficulty being economical in such company) that implies womanizing/spending on female company; translate faithfully,. Section 3’s grief over his brother’s death is genuine and should read plainly, not melodramatically. Section 7’s begging-jest ("for the salvation of your soul,I am poor and destitute") is characteristic ironic self-deprecation about money, not literal distress.

13 August 1889. Sumy.
13 августа 1889 г. Сумы.
13 Aug. Sumy.
13 авг. Сумы.
Returning from distant wanderings, my most kind Nikolai Alexandrovich, I found your letter waiting for me. Thank you for remembering me. Here is my curriculum vitae life’s account (Latin). for you. Nikolai’s last days, his sufferings and his funeral, made a crushing impression on me and on the whole family. My spirits were so foul that I grew sick of the summer, the dacha, and the Psyol alike. My only diversion was the letters of kind people who, learning from the newspapers of Nikolai’s death, hastened to offer their sympathy to my person. Of course letters are an empty thing, but when you read them you do not feel yourself alone, and the feeling of loneliness is the vilest and most tiresome feeling there is.
Из дальних странствий возвратясь, добрейший Николай Александрович, я нашел у себя Ваше письмо. Спасибо за память. Вот Вам мое curriculum vilae жизнеописание (лат.).. Последние дни Николая, его страдания и похороны произвели на меня и на всю семью удручающее впечатление. На душе было так скверно, что опротивели и лето, и дача, и Псел. Единственным развлечением были только письма добрых людей, которые, узнав из газет о смерти Николая, поспешили посочувствовать моей особе. Конечно, письма пустое дело, но когда читаешь их, то не чувствуешь себя одиноким, а чувство одиночества самое паршивое и нудное чувство.
After the funeral I took the whole family to Akhtyrka, then lived with them at home for a week, gave them time to grow accustomed, and left for abroad. On the way to Vienna, from the station at Zhmerinka, I turned aside a little and went to Odessa; there I stayed ten or twelve days, bathing in the sea and stewing in my own juice, that is to say, in my own sweat. In Odessa, thanks to certain circumstances, no small amount of money was spent; I had to abandon all thought of going abroad and confine myself to a single trip to Yalta. In that Tatar-and-ladies’ city I spent about three weeks, giving myself over to idleness and sweet indolence. Everything went up in smoke, and only enough was left for the journey home. In a land where there is much good wine and excellent horses, where there is one man to every twenty women, it is hard to be economical. At last I am home, with 40 rubles.
После похорон возил я всю семью в Ахтырку, потом неделю пожил с нею дома, дал ей время попривыкнуть и уехал за границу. На пути к Вене со станции Жмеринка я взял несколько в сторону и поехал в Одессу; здесь прожил я 10–12 дней, купаясь в море и варясь в собственном соку, сиречь в поте. В Одессе, благодаря кое-каким обстоятельствам, было прожито денег немало; пришлось насчет заграницы отложить всякое попечение и ограничиться одной только поездкой в Ялту. В сем татарско-дамском граде прожил я недели три, предаваясь кейфу и сладостной лени. Всё пущено в трубу, осталось только на обратный путь. В стране, где много хорошего вина и отличных коней, где на 20 женщин приходится один мужчина, трудно быть экономным. Наконец я дома, с 40 рублями.
Travelling about the provinces, I looked closely into the book trade. I find that it is set up abominably. The trade is beggarly. Half the booksellers are either tightfisted or outright swindlers, the buyer is uncultivated, easily deceived, and openly prefers quantity to quality in books. Until the capital’s booksellers open branches in the provincial towns, the business will not advance a single step. There is no counting on the locals.
Разъезжая по провинции, я приглядывался к книжному делу. Нахожу, что поставлено оно отвратительно. Торговля нищенская. Половина книгопродавцев кулаки или прямо-таки жулики, покупатель невоспитанный, легко поддающийся обману, откровенно предпочитающий в книгах количество качеству. Пока столичные книгопродавцы не пооткрывают в городах своих отделений, до тех пор дело не подвинется ни на один шаг вперед. На туземцев рассчитывать нельзя.
Among the locals I met only one reliable and thoroughly decent publisher-bookseller, whom I recommend to your attention. His address: "Yalta, Daniil Mikhailovich Gorodetsky." He keeps a printing house, publishes all manner of Crimean trifles, edits the Yalta sheet, sells books, and this summer is opening branches all along the Crimean-Caucasian coast, starting from Odessa and ending at Batum. He is, I repeat, a decent man, educated and not stupid. A little inexperienced, but that is a remediable fault. He takes editions only on commission, with monthly settlement or as you wish. He asked that you send him 25 copies of each of your editions. If you send them you will lose nothing. I vouch for him entirely, and should his business not go well, I will, next July, passing through Yalta, collect all the books from him. His terms: 40 percent, and for one-ruble books 30 percent. Send him 25 copies of "Motley Stories" and the same number of Palmin. I will write to Barantsevich separately. If you like, I will settle accounts with him myself. In any case, write to me and I will inform him.
Из туземцев я встретил только одного благонадежного и вполне порядочного издателя-книгопродавца, которого рекомендую Вашему вниманию. Его адрес: "Ялта, Даниил Михайлович Городецкий". Он содержит типографию, издает всякую крымскую дрянь, редактирует ялтинский листок, продает книги и этим летом открывает отделения по всему Крымско-Кавказскому побережью, начиная с Одессы и кончая Батумом. Он, повторяю, порядочный человек, образованный и неглупый. Немного неопытен, но это недостаток поправимый. Издания берет он только на комиссию, расчет ежемесячный или по желанию. Он просил Вас выслать ему по 25 экз. всех Ваших изданий. Если вышлете, то ничего не проиграете. Я за него вполне ручаюсь, и в случае, если его дело не пойдет, я в будущем июле, проездом через Ялту, заберу у него все книги. Его условия: 40%, а для рублевых книг 30%. Пошлите ему 25 экз. "Пестрых рассказов" и столько же Пальмина. Баранцевичу я буду писать особо. Если хотите, я сам буду считаться с ним. Во всяком случае, напишите мне, я уведомлю его.
Speaking of "Motley Stories"... do I owe you, or do you owe me? If the latter, might you not send me some small sum for the salvation of your soul? I am poor and destitute. If the former, then so much the better for you, so be it.
Кстати о "Пестрых рассказах"... Я должен Вам или Вы мне? Если второе, то не пришлете ли мне за спасение души малую толику? Я нищ и убог. Если первое, то Ваше счастье, так тому и быть.
My regards to all your household. Be well and prosperous. I am going to Moscow on the 2nd or 3rd of September.
Всем Вашим поклон. Будьте здоровы и благополучны. В Москву еду 2–3 сент.
Yours, A. Chekhov.
Write to me.
Пишите.

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