CHEKOV IN ENGLISH

Evening Post, Volume CXIII, Issue 48, 26 February 1927, Page 21

CHEKOV IN ENGLISH

"Tho ■ Shooting Party." By Anton Chekhov. Translated by A. ,E. Chamot.) . London: Stanley Paul ■ and Co.

"The Shooting Party" would have been'better left untranslated. It is a pity that translators cannot abide by an author's expressed wish and trust to his own selection of his own works. "The' Shooting Party," which is a youthful effort, was not included in Chekhov's personal collection, and can be of interest only to students of his gradual development. That this novel is youthful and unripo is only too appar.ent; that it is loose in construction and lumbering in action is still more apparent. The theme, and occasionally .its treatment, is, however, "big" in every sense of the word. Chekhov, even a painfully youthful Chekhov, could give us nothing suggestive of trifling. "The Shooting Party" possesses few of the recognised Chekhovian characteristics and wholly lacks the tensely episodic nature of the later works. The novel, nevertheless, pulsates with that secret, heavy-laden atmosphere of pending doom and the futility of all things. . It is only the truly finished artist who knows just hbw much to say, and how much to leave unsaid.; The novice cannot resist the temptation of elaboration, and of explaining himself. Consequently the abrupt play of insinuation and of pregnant circumstance which are the very vitals of the genius Chekhov are markedly absent from this youthful erudition; while the "mystery," if mystery it is intended to be, iB of the feeblest manufacture. The characters nevertheless are cunningly interwoven into a typical Chekhovian web of fateful circumstance.

Lecoq, a frank, handsome, cunning young magistrate, a drunken Count, w,hom he can twist Tound his little finger, the beautiful Olenka with her "innocent, childish, naive, kind little face and loving eyes," whose capacity_ for crueltyv.and.' shrewishness is unlimited, and poof, sinned-ag'aifist TJ,rbcnin,'"-the old man who f.alls in love with the young girl"—all these play their allotted parts with surprising subtlety. Olerika, from a spirit of vapid vanity, consents to marry TJrbenin. On the day. of her marriage she gives herself to Lceoq, and- after driving the wretched TJrbenin to drink, takes up residence with the dissipated Count. Lecoq, who surprisingly enough really loves the girl, is nauseated to the depths of his being at her vanity, selfishness, and worldliness. The climax then reaches its height when Olenka is murdered in the forest. All evidence points to the hapless TJrberiiri's* guilt, and the wretched man is dispatched to Siberia. It is quite evident, however, • that TJrbenin is not guilty. Who is? It certainly does not require the brains of a sleuth to unravel the "mystery." All of which seems'inexcusably trivial. Here is the eternal Triangle served up with -sundry elaborations. It is surprising, however, with what freshness the work is handled. The issues appear to be big, the figures (become mere puppets, and one remains conscious only pf the murky background of brooding philosophy and Russian cynicism.—K.S. V ■