Stories · 1885

Up the Staircase

Вверх по лестнице

Headnote

1 Up the Staircase (“Vverkh po lestnitse” in the original) is a brief comic dialogue-sketch from 1885, belonging to the same vein of newspaper humor as Chekhov’s other very short pieces of the period: a single scene, almost entirely in dialogue, driven by one social mechanism worked out to its punchline.

The mechanism here is deference calibrated in real time to money and connections. The provincial councillor Dolbonosov, finding himself at a grand Petersburg party where he knows no one, condescends out of boredom to a former tutor of his children, a young law-school graduate named Shchepotkin. As Shchepotkin quietly discloses his salary, his second position on a railway board, and finally his marriage into a well-connected family, Dolbonosov’s tone climbs – rung by rung, hence the title – from bored contempt to fawning invitation, without ever registering that his own behavior has changed at all. Chekhov gives Dolbonosov no interiority beyond what escapes in his stammering, broken speech; the comedy is entirely in the mechanical predictability of a status climber recalculating his manners.

The invented surnames are typical of Chekhov’s early comic technique – Dolbonosov suggests something like “blockhead” or “chisel-nose,” Shchepotkin something like “little pinch” or “splinter,” and the fictitious “Ugaro-Debosherskaya Railway” embeds a joke on ugar (carbon-monoxide fumes, or by extension a drunken binge) and debosh (a row, a disorderly scene) – a comic non-existent rail line named, in effect, “Fumes-and-Riot Railway.”

The provincial councillor Dolbonosov, being in Petersburg once on official business, happened by chance upon an evening party at Prince Fingalov’s. At this party he, among other things, to his own great astonishment, ran into the law student Shchepotkin, who some five years before had been a tutor to his children. He knew no one at the party, and out of boredom he went up to Shchepotkin.
Провинциальный советник Долбоносов, будучи однажды по делам службы в Питере, попал случайно на вечер к князю Фингалову. На этом вечере он, между прочим, к великому своему удивлению, встретил студента-юриста Щепоткина, бывшего лет пять тому назад репетитором его детей. Знакомых у него на вечере не было, и он от скуки подошел к Щепоткину.
"You, this... er... how did you come to be here?” he asked, yawning into his fist.
– Вы это... тово... как же сюда попали? – спросил он, зевая в кулак.
"The same way you did...”
– Так же, как и вы...
"That is, I dare say, not quite the same way as I did...” Dolbonosov frowned, looking Shchepotkin over. “Hm... er... how are things with you?”
– То есть, положим, не так, как я... – нахмурился Долбоносов, оглядывая Щепоткина. – Гм... тово... дела ваши как?
"So-so... I finished my course at the university and I serve as a clerk of special commissions under Podokonnikov...”
– Так себе... Кончил курс в университете и служу чиновником особых поручений при Подоконникове...
"Indeed? That’s not bad, for a start... But... er... forgive the indiscreet question, how much does your post pay you?”
– Да? Это на первых порах недурно... Но... ээ... простите за нескромный вопрос, сколько дает вам ваша должность?
"Eight hundred roubles...”
– Восемьсот рублей...
"Pah!.. Not enough for tobacco...” muttered Dolbonosov, falling once again into a condescending, patronizing tone.
– Пф!.. На табак не хватит... – пробормотал Долбоносов, опять впадая в снисходительно-покровительственный тон.
"Of course, that isn’t enough for a comfortable living in Petersburg, but besides that I also serve as secretary on the board of the Ugaro-Debosherskaya Railway... That brings me fifteen hundred...”
– Конечно, для безбедного прожития в Петербурге этого недостаточно, но кроме того ведь я состою секретарем в правлении Угаро-Дебоширской железной дороги... Это дает мне полторы тысячи...
"Ye-e-es, in that case, of course...” Dolbonosov broke in, and something like a radiance spread over his face. “By the way, my dear fellow, how did you come to make the acquaintance of our host?”
– Дааа, в таком случае, конечно... – перебил Долбоносов, причем по лицу его разлилось нечто вроде сияния. – Кстати, милейший мой, каким образом вы познакомились с хозяином этого дома?
"Very simply,” Shchepotkin answered indifferently. “I met him at the home of Secretary of State Lodkin....”
– Очень просто, – равнодушно отвечал Щепоткин. – Я встретился с ним у статс-секретаря Лодкина....
"You... call on Lodkin?” Dolbonosov’s eyes bulged...
– Вы... бываете у Лодкина? – вытаращил глаза Долбоносов...
"Very often... I’m married to his niece...”
– Очень часто... Я женат на его племяннице...
"To his ni-e-ece? Hm... Tell me... You know, I’ve... er... always wished you... I always prophesied a brilliant future for you, my most-esteemed Ivan Petrovich...”
– На пле-мян-ни-це? Гм... Скажите... Я, знаете ли... тово... всегда желал вам... пророчил блестящую будущность, высокоуважаемый Иван Петрович...
"Pyotr Ivanych...”
– Петр Иваныч...
"That is, Pyotr Ivanych... And you know, I’m looking at you just now and I see – there’s something familiar about your face... I recognized you in a single instant... Let me, I think, invite him round to dine with me... Heh-heh... The old fellow won’t refuse me, I daresay! Hotel Europe, No. 33... from one till six...”
– То есть, Петр Иваныч... А я, знаете ли, гляжу сейчас и вижу – что-то лицо знакомое... В одну секунду узнал... Дай, думаю, позову его к себе отобедать... Хе-хе... Старику-то, думаю, небось не откажет! Отель "Европа", N 33... от часу до шести...
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