Thank heavens for Chekhov! Master of the mundane, the boring monotony of daily life, the meaningless passage of time, he actually makes the random chaos, the pointless repetitions of day-to-day survival seem somehow rather beautiful. Or at least he helps us to realise that we’re all enduring the same feelings that life is useless and trivial and dull, so why worry. Just get on with it.
Radios Three and Four have been giving us a feast of the Russian writer (born 150 years ago), with plays, features, monologues. It’s been the perfect antidote to this drabbest of all Januarys, now that the snow has gone leaving behind layers of grimy grit through which a few timid bulbs are struggling to peep. Chekhov’s plays and especially his short stories allow us to see that life’s meaning is to be found in the small things, not the big questions. It’s through the slow accretion of what at first seem trivial details that a person’s true character is revealed, that the latent meaning behind the play or story comes into sharply defined focus.
An intriguing Between the Ears, Saturday, on Radio Three (produced by John Goudie), takes us deep into the mystery of Chekhov’s dramatic magic. You may remember the strange, eerie, disturbing noise that suddenly galvanises the desultory conversation in the middle of The Cherry Orchard. Chekhov’s stage instruction is quite precise. It’s a sultry summer’s evening and the family are all sitting on the verandah deep in thought, silent apart from the low muttering of one of the servants from inside the house. ‘Suddenly a distant sound is heard. It seems to come from the sky and is the sound of a breaking string, dying away slowly and sadly.
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