Letter · 1891

To A. S. Suvorin, 20 October 1891. Moscow.

А. С. СУВОРИНУ, 20 октября 1891 г. Москва.

Headnote

a letter dated 20 October 1891, from Moscow, to Aleksey Sergeyevich Suvorin, publisher/editor of "Novoye Vremya," written the day after Chekhov read a "little letter" (a short feuilleton) of Suvorin’s on the 1891 famine-relief controversy, and touching money, travel plans, and a request on behalf of a young writer.

Chekhov opens by praising Suvorin’s recent published piece as warm, beautiful, and true in every thought, and extends its argument with an angry aside on the hypocrisy of the well-fed moralizing at the hungry – comparing it to lecturing a man sick with typhus, and noting sardonically that the state, government ministers, the nobility, bishops, and the Imperial Guard are all far deeper in debt than any peasant scolded over fifteen rubles of tax arrears. He then lays out his immediate itinerary: finishing off a long, tedious commissioned story for an unnamed "Collection," then travelling down the Volga and overland into the province governed by General Baranov (part of his ongoing famine-relief fieldwork), then on to see Suvorin; he declines to visit Suvorin’s Zaraysk estate, saying he cannot judge land properly under snow and bare trees. He confirms receipt of a further 400 rubles against earnings from "The Duel," tallies the running total against the roughly 1400 he reckons is owed him, and notes the rest will go to clearing his debts by spring, after which he means to draw fresh advances from every editorial office and "run off to Java." He comments on a reply from Viskovatov printed in "Novosti," calling it snide and questioning Viskovatov’s command of Russian while affirming that Suvorin’s own feuilleton read as unmistakably pointed. A short, weary passage follows on the dullness of his enforced idleness in Moscow – wanting patients and a hospital as a doctor, or the thick of public/political life as a writer, rather than confinement at his flat on Malaya Dmitrovka with his pet mongoose. He closes with a joking appeal that Suvorin, while fishing on his Zaraysk estate, arrange to publish "the English humorist Bernard," sends greetings to Suvorin’s family, and signs off. A postscript-like final section reports that N. M. Yezhov has sent Suvorin a story, "Petty Natures," and asks whether it is acceptable.

20 October 1891. Moscow.
20 октября 1891 г. Москва.
19 Oct.
19 окт.
What a splendid "little letter" you have brought out. Warmly and beautifully written, and every thought in it is true. To speak now of laziness, drunkenness, and the like is as strange and tactless as teaching a man sense while he is vomiting or lying in typhus fever. Satiety, like every kind of power, always carries within it a certain share of insolence, and that share is expressed above all in this, that the well-fed man teaches the hungry one. If, in a time of serious grief, consolation itself is repugnant, then how must moralizing act, and how stupid and insulting that moralizing must seem. By their reckoning, whoever is fifteen rubles behind on his taxes is already a good-for- nothing, and he must not so much as drink – yet let them reckon up how much is owed in arrears by the states, by the prime ministers, how much all the marshals of the nobility and the bishops, taken together, owe. What the Guards owe! Only the tailors know that.
Какое великолепное вышло у Вас "маленькое письмо". Горячо и красиво написано, и мысли все до одной верны. Говорить теперь о лености, пьянстве и т. п. так же странно и нетактично, как учить человека уму-разуму в то время, когда его рвет или когда он в тифе. Сытость, как и всякая сила, всегда содержит в себе некоторую долю наглости, и эта доля выражается прежде всего, в том, что сытый учит голодного. Если во время серьезного горя бывает противно утешение, то как должна действовать мораль и какою глупою, оскорбительною должна казаться эта мораль. По-ихнему, на ком 15 рублей недоимки, тот уж и пустельга, тому и пить нельзя, а сосчитали бы они, сколько недоимки на государствах, на первых министрах, сколько должны все предводители дворянства и архиереи, взятые вместе. Что должна гвардия! Про это только портные знают.
Well now, my itinerary is as follows. First of all I shall get the story for the "Collection" off my neck. It is a long story, some two printer’s sheets, of the tedious and difficult-to-execute kind, without beginning and without end – I shall get it off my neck, and to the devil with it. Then I shall go to General Baranov’s province; I shall have to sail down the Volga and travel by horse. Then I shall come to you. But I have no wish to go to Zaraysk. I do not know how to look at an estate in winter. What lies under snow, or is ringed about by bare trees, that I stubbornly and prejudicially fail to understand.
Ну-с, маршрут мой таков. Прежде всего свалю с шеи рассказ для "Сборника". Рассказ большой, листа в два, из породы скучных и трудных в исполнении, без начала и без конца, свалю его – и шут с ним. Затем поеду в губернию генерала Баранова; придется плыть по Волге и ехать на конях. Затем приеду к Вам. А в Зарайск не хочется. Я не умею зимой смотреть именья. Что под снегом или окружено голыми деревьями, того я упрямо и предубежденно не понимаю.
You have ordered 400 sent to me? Vivat dominus Suvorin! Long live Mr. Suvorin! (Latin.) That means I have already received from your firm, on account of "The Duel," 400+100+400. In all, as I have reckoned, about 1400 is due me for "The Duel." That means 500 will go toward paying off my debt. Well, thank God for that much. By spring I must pay off the whole debt, or else I shall wither away, for in the spring I mean again to take an advance from every editorial office. I shall take it and run off to Java.
Вы приказали выслать мне 400? Vivat dominus Suvorin! Да здравствует господин Суворин! (лат.) Значит, в счет "Дуэли" я получил уже от Вашей фирмы 400+100+400. Всего за "Дуэль" приходится, как я считал, около 1400. Значит, 500 пойдет в уплату долга. Ну и то слава богу. К весне мне необходимо уплатить весь долг, иначе я зачахну, ибо весной я опять хочу аванс взять во всех редакциях. Возьму и бегу в Яву.
In Viskovatov’s reply, printed in "Novosti," there is something snide (calling you a feuilletonist, and so forth); the man himself, it would seem, is no more admirable than his knowledge of the Russian language, but surely he did not falsify it? And the tone of your feuilleton makes music that is quite intelligible to everyone. Well, trouble has come even to the professors.
В ответе Висковатова, напечатанном в "Новостях", есть что-то ёрническое (величание Вас фельетонистом и пр.), человек он, по-видимому, такой же не ахтительный, как и его знание русского языка, но неужели он подделал? А тон Вашего фельетона делает музыку, очень понятную для всякого. Ну, пришла беда и на профессоров.
Ah, my dear friends, how dull it is! If I am a doctor, then I need patients and a hospital; if I am a man of letters, then I need to live among the people, and not on Malaya Dmitrovka with a mongoose. One needs at least a scrap of social and political life, even the smallest scrap, and this life within four walls, without nature, without people, without a homeland, without health and without appetite – that is not life, but some sort of something-or-other and nothing more.
Ах, подруженьки, как скучно! Если я врач, то мне нужны больные и больница; если я литератор, то мне нужно жить среди народа, а не на Малой Дмитровке с мангусом. Нужен хоть кусочек общественной и политической жизни, хоть маленький кусочек, а эта жизнь в четырех стенах без природы, без людей, без отечества, без здоровья и аппетита – это не жизнь, а какой-то и больше ничего.
For the sake of all the ruffe and pike you will catch on your Zaraysk estate, I beg you, publish the English humorist Bernard. Send it to be set in type.
Ради всех ершей и щук, крых Вы поймаете в своем зарайском имении, прошу Вас, издайте английского юмориста Бернарда. Отдайте в набор.
I bow low to your family. Be well a thousand years.
Кланяюсь Вашим низко. Будьте здоровы тысячу лет.
Yours, A. Chekhov.
N. M. Yezhov has sent you the story "Petty Natures." He asks: will it do?
H. M. Ежов послал Вам рассказ "Мелкие натуры". Спрашивает: годится ли?

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To A. S. Suvorin, 20 October 1891. Moscow.

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