Letter · 1889

To V. A. Tikhonov, 13 September 1889. Moscow.

В. А. ТИХОНОВУ, 13 сентября 1889 г. Москва.

Headnote

Date and addressee. 13 September 1889, written from Moscow to the playwright and journalist Vladimir Alekseevich Tikhonov (1857–1914), a minor contemporary dramatist and a friend/correspondent of Chekhov’s in this period. Short, breezy, occasional note — Chekhov has just returned to Moscow (probably from Sumy/the south, where he summered) and is catching up with Tikhonov.

A brisk, jocular note. Chekhov announces his return ("I am here!!"), teases Tikhonov by nicknaming him the "Russian Sardou" (i.e. compares him, half-mockingly, to the prolific French boulevard playwright Victorien Sardou) and says he looks forward to seeing him and his new play "Rays and Clouds" (Луч и тучи / "Луч и тучи" - rendered here as "Rays and Clouds"), which he has heard about from the theater manager Korsh. He reports no real news, describes life as an unchanged mix of good and bad ("a thick blend of optimism and pessimism"), mentions that Tikhonov’s play "Without Yoke and Flatiron" (Без коромысла и утюга) is still running at Korsh’s theater and that he intends to go see it, brushes off small talk about the weather, and then turns to his own work: he has just finished a long story that he calls heavy, clumsy, and cumbersome — not long in page count but demanding in execution — and says he is trying out a new thematic motif. He closes with a short "I await word from you, keep well" and signs off.

13 September 1889. Moscow.
13 сентября 1889 г. Москва.
13 Sept.
13 сент.
Greetings, Russian Sardou! I answer the call: I am here!! Very glad that you are alive and well and that I shall soon have the pleasure of beholding you and "Rays and Clouds," which I have heard about from Korsh. There is absolutely nothing new. Everything is old, and everything is, as before, splendid, fine, and rotten (a thick blend of optimism and pessimism).
Здравствуйте, российский Сарду! Откликаюсь: я здесь!! Очень рад, что Вы живы, здравы и что скоро я буду иметь удовольствие лицезреть Вас и "Лучи и тучи", о которых слышал от Корша. Нового нет ни бельмеса. Всё старо, и всё по-прежнему превосходно, благополучно и гадко (густая помесь оптимизма с пессимизмом).
Korsh said your "Without Yoke and Flatiron" will still be running at his theater; I’ll go have a look, since I haven’t seen it yet. What else shall I write you? About the weather? Nothing to report there — it’s fine.
Корш говорил, что Ваше "Без коромысла и утюга" будет еще идти у него; пойду поглядеть, так как еще не видел. Что еще написать Вам? Про погоду? Ничего, хороша.
I have finished a long story. A heavy-weight piece, enough to kill a man with. Heavy not in the number of pages, but in quality. Something clumsy and cumbersome. I’m touching on a new motif.
Кончил длинную повесть. Вещь тяжеловесная, так что человека убить можно. Тяжеловесна не количеством листов, а качеством. Нечто неуклюжее и громоздкое. Мотив затрагиваю новый.
I await word from you. Keep well.
Жду. Будьте здоровеньки.
Yours, A. Chekhov.

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To V. A. Tikhonov, 13 September 1889. Moscow.

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