„Uncle Vanya“ – „Oh, if all this could be over quickly …”

Even though I tried, this time I cannot keep up with my reading. As I am reading on – having now worked my way through “Three Sisters” and “The Cherry Orchard” and starting again on “Uncle Vanya” - what I have written before just gets cancelled and I start anew. Of course I like this – but “Chekhov” proves almost too complex and dynamic for my taste. Though, right now, it feels again as if I was going deeper …

And it appears that, by making these “moves”, I learned a lot about a fictional world that I hadn’t been aware of – and about the “vortex”. (I am actually looking forward to elaborating on the concepts I have used “instinctively” when I was reading, but there is always so much reading to do that there will probably be a long period of looking forward still …)

“Why is it we have hardly started living before we all become dull, drab, boring, lazy, complacent, useless and miserable?”

definitely was one of these moments where I OBSERVED the vortex grinding to a halt. They are always great moments. It felt as if I had an answer to one of the nagging questions I was dealing with when I was reading, even though it is itself a question. When I am not looking for causality but am getting into the mode of answering “Chekhov” provides, it even appeared like a surprisingly precise answer. I just didn’t really know what the QUESTION was.

However, I remember WHEN the question came up. It came up the moment I began to read Chekhov – when, in the first act of “Uncle Vanya”, Dr. Astrov is talking about the mindless destruction of woods, and the opportunity of doing something about the CLIMATE!!!? - Even though I was thrilled – and shocked! – I think I “put this away” the moment I read it because I couldn’t deal with the timelessness right away but had to figure out the characters first. And, even though I talked with Claudia about this when we met, I never got round to dealing with it. The closest I came to asking the “timeless” question in “Chekov” was – after having identified the parallel state of our worlds as some kind of “atmosphere” of neglect and carelessness: Why does nobody CARE? And to this question the RHETORICAL question from “Three Sisters” provided a shockingly precise answer.

“Why is it we have hardly started living before we all become dull, drab, boring, lazy, complacent, useless and miserable?”

Indeed it is BECAUSE “we” become dull, drab, boring, lazy, complacent, useless and miserable before we even have a chance to know it that we are unable to genuinely care about things like trees and climate change. Besides, the quote appeared to provide an answer to my overall observation (and question) about “Chekhov”: that (or why) - even though rather disruptive things happen on that stage (like people shooting themselves, shooting at others, leaving for good …) - there is never any genuine CHANGE in people’s lives. So, that made me feel as if the carelessness and indifference about the state of the world and the inability to move forward towards happiness were somehow connected. Having struck this connection, it appears instantly trivial, but I found THE WAY Chekhov made me discover it totally exciting.

Reading on, I came upon some kind of explanation about how they might be connected – which is not satisfying AS AN EXPLANATION. However, I felt that it struck the core of the issue more than any explanation could. I found it at the end of the third act of “The Cherry Orchard”, and it comes from Lopakhin who has just been celebrating the greatest triumph of his life. He, the son of a poor peasant, who has been nothing but beaten and mistreated as a child, buying the finest piece of property in the neighbourhood to “develop” it! Immediately after almost dancing with joy, he blurts out in distress:

“Oh, if all this could be over quickly, if our miserable, mixed-up lives could somehow hurry up and CHANGE.”

This was the most “timeless” moment for me reading Chekhov. Taking up the first act of “Uncle Vanya” again, reading closely, I gathered that there isn’t THAT much of a parallel situation ON THE SURFACE as the catchword “climate” suggests. It is just that we tend to separate such issues from their context to create timelessness – something I am trying to avoid, but this time it happened to me as well. What Chekhov was writing about has nothing to do with global warming, of course, but with the protection the woods offer to create a milder, more wholesome climate. In a northern continental climate woods offer protection from rough weather and chill - whereas, in my own world, they alleviate the overheated urban atmosphere in summer. (Which, however, is kind of two ends of the same stick.) “But I love trees!” proved more “sustainable” – as I realized that trees have a lot more impact on my life - and state of mind - than I have been aware of. To my own surprise, I actually stuck with it and KEPT thinking about trees. It helped a lot that a documentary called “Das geheime Leben der Bäume” (= “The Hidden Life of Trees”) had just come to the cinema, and I watched it. And there is a book as well which I am going to read, and I know already that it is something I could have recommended to Richard Armitage for him to understand how his character is FEELING about trees. By the way, it is not the kind of esoteric crap it sounds like. It was written by a forester who has been working with trees all his life, but who also LOVES them. Who has his ear on nature, and has been trying to learn everything about them. (And it immediately answered all the questions I had about raising a forest – by cutting down and planting anew or by letting it grow.)

Somehow, all this came into “Oh, if all this could be over quickly …” not by chance. The hour of Lopakhin’s greatest triumph is also the hour of death for the cherry orchard which gets chopped down as a consequence in the last act. I even understand why this HAS to happen. There is money to be made, which is also the most important kind of energy for making things move FORWARD. And I think that this ANTAGONISM – that cannot be resolved! – is fundamental in Chekhov.

My observation about the historical and economical background having such an impact on people’s lives might have been created because I noticed PARALLEL STRUCTURES from the beginning where the representation of the world “outside” and the domaine of people’s feelings are concerned. The reason why I was drawn into Chekhov’s world in this way is that the “Chekhov vortex” plays almost entirely on an instrument I know so well – but very seldom give up so unrestrictedly to “somebody else” to play on: MY OWN FEELINGS. I noticed this already when I read the first lines of “Uncle Vanya” – so much that it spooked me and I actually closed the book. But of course I wanted to read on – and noticed that I would be fine. I suppose it was the irony that I discovered subconsciously which made me feel safe. Reassured me that I was in no danger of being stuck with this gob of “mixed-up” feelings I didn’t want … And this feature I described as “flightiness”: the experience that feelings can be cancelled. Even though I MUST feel them strongly at the moment, they will go away. This reassurance made it possible that I could open up towards these characters in a way I usually don’t. To leave the ground of analyzing them more than I usually do, and instead treat them like genuine human beings. Even more - that I WANTED to be kind and understanding and perceive them the way I think Chekhov did. To allow that there is this GRAIN of – I wouldn’t say “goodness” because this is already too much of a moral term – but of human quality and genuine feeling in EVERBODY. And, doing this, I learned to use Chekhov’s TECHNIQUES of creating emotional complexity. One of them I noticed explicitly, among others in the bit I quoted from “The Cherry Orchard”, as a parallel to the antagonism in the outside world. Chekhov always makes these extensive stage directions, not just about what has to happen on the stage but also about how people are supposed to be feeling at that  precise moment – and which emotions actors are supposed to express. I tend to read over these, but very soon noticed that I shouldn’t. Reading them, I discovered that people often express CONTRADICTORY feelings. For example, saying rather funny or trivial things while they are crying. And – like people in real live! – they are saying one thing and are doing the opposite. And this opens some kind of gap where I begin to reach out for an explanation.  At the moment he is saying this, Lopakhin is exultant and  distressed AT THE SAME TIME. He is himself an example for the “mixed-up” state he is talking about. And this makes me QUESTION what he is saying. So - even though he should be! - he isn’t EXACTLY an example for the way “we” would want these lives to “hurry up and change”. Not even in his own mind.

  

And this is where I felt this striking parallel with my own historical situation – which is, of course, not one made of given facts but of interpretation. The way Chekhov put this, he expresses MY OWN experience of the antagonism. AT THAT MOMENT, I couldn’t help feeling that we were standing at this parallel “junction” in history - where everything that appeared relatively stable is about to change with lightning speed, whereas we – “mixed-up”, dull, lazy and miserable as we are – are unable to keep up, neither emotionally nor in our actions. If Lopakhin’s wish and vision were ever to come true, we would have to become DIFFERENT people. And how is this ever supposed to happen???

„Uncle Vanya“: No woods in England!

“Chekhov” has continued to take over my life to the point that it currently occupies about 80 percent of my brain, whereas all the rest has to make do with 20 percent. Might become a problem, in the long run, but at the moment I love it. And I don’t expect it to last anyway. I presume this “vortex” will spit me out as suddenly and unexpectedly as it has sucked me in. Ideally, AFTER I have been to the theatre …

At the moment it feels like another breakthrough. After having read “Uncle Vanya” (getting deeply moved), “Ivanov” (getting intrigued), “The Seagull” (getting bored), and “Three Sisters” (getting fascinated and pleased), something happened that made me see how these very different reading experiences were linked and what it is that, in my opinion, makes “Chekhov” so special. However, this became unexpectedly difficult to trace.

I think it started with something that appears to be entirely beside the point. When I emailed Claudia about my disappointment with “The Seagull” her answer contained a bit of information that she correctly assumed would interest me. It was about Richard Armitage contacting the Forestry Commission to learn something about woods. As I understood, she found this rather weird, and, for a second, “weird” registered with me. Then I remembered what I know about how he works, and thought: Obviously! There is no way he would play a character without knowing anything about such a vitally important issue in his life. Just a few days later, though, something happened in real life that made me aware that there might be more to this – where CHEKHOV is concerned! – than knowing what you are talking about. I mean – he could have googled all this!

Talking about “weird”! I certainly don’t have to look far from home. After we had talked about “Uncle Vanya” about two weeks ago, I made a mental footnote which I would now translate as:

“I NEED TO THINK ABOUT TREES!”

And then, of course, I never got round to thinking about trees because there was so much of the human stuff to think about. The email finally got me started on trees as it made me remember the exact moment I got sucked into “Chekhov”. It was when I read Dr. Astrov saying – apologetically: “I just love trees!” – How very odd!!!

The fastest way to make me realize that there is something DIFFERENT that I might like is to surprise me. And this sentence certainly did. Although there were many things going on when I read “Uncle Vanya”, I described my basic feeling about it as “deeply moved”. And this was the moment that taught me how to be that. And recognize it as something I WANTED to be – not something I am vaguely ashamed of - as I noticed that this moment related to something that happened some time before I read the play. I don’t remember what the context was, but somehow I came upon the question what I thought to be the most wonderfully inexplicable thing in the world not made by humans. And, to my astonishment, I discovered that it was not something beautiful and complex like a coral reef, or something majestic and inconceivable like a mountain. Not even something infinitely clever like DNA. And - as I think Chekhov would agree! - it is certainly not a human being. No, actually, for me it is a TREE.

Then, just two days after this, something happened in real life that appears even more inconsequential but made me see why this moment had been so important, and how it related to what I had subconsciously understood about “Chekhov”. On the weekend I went to see my mother, and we went out for a walk in the nearby forest. And, unlike me, who mostly walk with my feet on the ground and my head in the clouds – or rather firmly planted in a different world! -  she constantly notices things. In this case, she pointed out the clusters of small saplings to me that grow from the seeds accidentally scattered on the soil and that she used to make her Christmas decoration in front of the house. As half my head was in “Chekhov”, I began to wonder if some of them were meant to be raised into trees to supplant the big trees that get removed by and by, or if a part of the forest would be chopped down eventually and get supplanted by “artificially” raised trees. And, to my astonishment, I realized that I had no clue.

I must say I was a bit pissed off that I had no clue because this is where I grew up, and we even knew the forester in charge of these woods who was a friend of my parents. I just never paid attention to any of this, though, on the other hand, I noticed that I knew a lot about these woods from PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. I noticed that I know what trees grow there, and am able to recognize them in winter, without their leaves. I know what animals live in that forest because I recognize them by their footprints. I even know the names of most varieties of mushrooms, and if they are fit to eat, because we went there to collect them when I was a child. I know which plants are poisonous … and so on.

When I came to England for the first time I don’t think I even NOTICED the absence of woods. Where I grew up woodlands are part of the landscape, though not THE landscape – as in big parts of Scandinavia, or, I suppose, Russia. In England I always notice the hedges because they got vastly eliminated in Bavaria in the course of reallocation. This happened when I was a little child, so I never got to know the landscape as it had been before. Compared to England it appeared barren – but the thought never struck me that they need the hedges because, without them, there wouldn’t be ANYTHING. No trees, no birds, no wild beasts. (Maybe that’s why there are so many birdwatchers in Britain. Without woodland there remains so little else …?) The first time I really NOTICED this was when we visited an archaeological site of a village deserted since the 15^th century, and when I learned that the woods had largely been chopped down in the late Middle Ages to make room for sheep farming. Tweed was the trade to make money with, and people who had farmed rented lands were no longer needed because sheep farming is extensive. So, who couldn’t become a sheep farmer had to rent a loom and become a weaver – until cotton became more profitable. The next big change that turned England into an industrialized country. Much more so than where I lived and where rural structures continued, basically - or Russia, where, I suppose, wood is still a major economic factor. Even increasingly so, because of climate change and renewable energy. “We” tend to think that, in our age, there is just Amazon and Google, and megacities, and airports everywhere – but most of the SPACE is still occupied by some kind of rural structure. The “timeless” moment for me, of course, that I already mentioned, was the bit when Dr. Astrov points out the maps and the change to Helen. If we DON’T CARE trees just get chopped down, and with them not just people’s livelihood but also the STRUCTURE of the landscape and the structure of people’s lives disappears. And WE CANNOT CARE ABOUT WHAT WE DON’T KNOW. As I realized: You can grow up in England without any PERSONAL experience about woods. Woods or forest industry – one could google that for hours on end without UNDERSTANDING anything about it. So, I assume, Richard Armitage hoped to get in touch with somebody for whom forests are a PERSONAL thing.

What I noticed quite early on reading “Uncle Vanya” about Chekhov’s REALISM: Even though the landscape and the environment and historical setup seldom come into what is happening on the stage, it isn’t just background. It is a STRUCTURAL part of who these people are. And I suppose this kind of realism is a common experience for these actors I like so much - who always need to know where their characters wake up in the morning, and what their dreams were, what they will have for breakfast and so on … Of course they are trying to do this with EVERY character they are playing. I think I really understood this when I began to follow Christopher Eccleston who - every time he plays somebody – comes out as this completely different human being. He made me finally understand what I find so fascinating about this, and made me notice this quality in other actors more than I did before – as right now in Richard Armitage, watching his former work in a row and having heard some of his audiobooks. These actors just wouldn’t stop until they had found out about what is in these people’s lives – or had added it themselves. But Chekhov is himself “specially special” where realism is concerned. I learned this by the way he made me react to these people JUST READING the plays. I think it is because he works under the assumption that there is always MORE to people, and to live, than meets the eye. And contrives how to show us that there is more. That is why I became intrigued reading “Ivanov”: It appears that this is where he discovered his “calling” - or probably just went so much deeper with it than he did in his former work. I don’t know his former work, but the impression that I get from Wikipedia is that he was very interested in the peculiarities and weirdness of people, and that a lot of it is rather funny and farcical. In “Ivanov”, more than in his other plays, there are these people who are rather mean, or peculiar, or annoying – like some kind of “background noise” of life. But in his main protagonist he appears to investigate his special brand of tragic irony. Ivanov is in deep shit because he married a woman for love who would have brought him money, but her parents cast her off because of the marriage. A few years later he doesn’t love her anymore, she is gravely ill, and he is broke. Luckily for him, his wife finally dies, and he would be able to marry the daughter of a wealthy neighbour whom he has fallen in love with some time before. At least this is how EVERYBODY ELSE sees it: That he made his wife unhappy and caused her premature death to be finally able to marry an heiress. But his wife would have died of her tuberculosis anyway, sooner or later, the new marriage would have been the end of all his difficulties, and everybody would have been the better for it. Everybody EXCEPT Ivanov who somehow doesn’t WANT to be this person – not just doesn’t want to be seen as this person by others. Being this person causes a MORAL dilemma that will be the end of him – though, in our age, he would probably be diagnosed with clinical  depression. I even noticed the word “depression” being used in the play, but I don’t think that it was seen as a clinical illness at the time. I think Chekhov sees it as a moral “illness” – and people can die of something like this because there is always so much more to their lives than meets the eye. So much more than they understand and can handle. I couldn’t know this, but I believe that I wouldn’t have bothered to take Ivanov seriously and FEEL for him if I hadn’t read “Uncle Vanya” before and got into the vein of being KIND AND UNDERSTANDING. Using the attitude I learned there, I got the impression that he is absolutely right to feel that he has DONE nothing wrong. Nonetheless, the whole situation is so morally wrong that he cannot find a way out.

“Ivanov” was the first play of this kind – and I think it can be rather challenging for our moral setup, even in the 21^st century. In “Uncle Vanya” Chekhov extended this moral complexity, potentially giving it to all of his five main protagonists. At least I tried to read it like this, and it worked – though it took an effort. I am glad that I wrote about this because I set down my reluctance and reservations. But I also noticed how Chekhov made me LIKE to do this.

Naturally, I expected “The Seagull” to be similar and was totally disappointed. Of course it was MY READING that made it so dissatisfactory, but I just couldn’t get “inside” any of these people. I felt that there were only stupid, commonplace lives that don’t interest me, nothing that I didn’t know already, nothing to surprise me … At the same time I noticed that, especially compared with “Uncle Vanya”, a lot of things HAPPEN in this play. People are DOING things – like moving on and becoming an actress, or having an affair … but these are just the kind of stories I have read so many times and that always end in the same way. Even though they are supposed to be these forward, artistic people, the characters appear dull because there is nothing to them I don’t already know. And I feel that Chekhov doesn’t GIVE me anything about them to get deeper – like something that feels different on the inside than it feels on the outside (as in “Ivanov”), or somebody saying beautifully inconsequential things like “I just love trees!” In my opinion, he is at his best when he so efficiently BREAKS THE SURFACE that we can get a view INSIDE.

Reading “Three Sisters”, I was relieved that this experience was not repeated. And I was so pleased that, as soon as I started reading, I distinctly remembered the great experience I had with the play seeing it at Schiller-Theater Berlin approximately thirty years ago. It was one of these shows where I understood why theatre is like nothing else in the world – an experience that couldn’t be replaced by anything else. I had almost forgotten this – and now I am discovering it again, with new eyes! Reading the play now, I understood that it hadn’t just been great acting and directing but also Chekhov’s great text that had brought this on. For one thing, he goes further with moral complexity, widening his scheme to even more people. And then, even though on the outside there are a lot of things happening – like a fire that burns down part of the city, or the militia leaving the city in the last act, even one of the characters killing himself, I think, but I keep forgetting this in “Chekov” because it appears so inconsequential … Despite all these things happening, the world appears totally static. I think this is because Chekhov is investigating another dimension of life and time more than he did before: the MOMENT. Whatever happens, whatever we see on the stage, is just a “snapshot”: People rushing in for no reason, leaving for no reason, just sitting and reading while other people are talking, groups of people talking AT THE SAME TIME … This last bit was what I remember most about the production, as an entirely new experience. And I remember that I thought: When this is possible on the stage, somebody must have done it right! I mean, it was all perfectly transparent, even though people were talking at the same time. I think this was when I understood about theatre and timing. That timing is almost everything – besides good acting, of course. It might be because of this production that I always resent it in Shakespeare when people are just standing there, waiting until it is their time to speak. And I hate it when somebody answers before what the other person said could have registered with him. I always appreciate actors trying to be “reactive” when they are just listening to others or observing what is going on. But I understand as well that it is seldom possible in "Shakespeare" to do different things at the same time because it is important WHAT is happening. In “Chekhov” a lot of things happen at the same time that are not important at all. Instead it is the FACT that they are happening which is important. I was so pleased to remember this experience so distinctly, and to be able to use it for reading the play as I did. As this fascinating AESTHETICAL experience. Even though it is the most recent play I read, I hardly recall anything about the content, but, once in a while, people happen to say something vitally important. Like:

“Why is it we have hardly started living before we all become dull, drab, boring, lazy, complacent, useless and miserable?”

Ummm? (😕😖😢) I am sure, usually, I don’t perceive my life QUITE like this. But, reading Chekhov for three weeks, I instantly subscribed to it!

“Uncle Vanya” - the benefit of the doubt

“Experience Anton Chekhov’s masterpiece in a stunning, new light filled with dark humour and hidden passions.”

The announcement on “London Theatre News”(letter) certainly sounds enticing, but reading the play felt very different – though I spotted the humour, I think, the desperate irony of it all. I like it especially because it makes me aware that I STILL don’t know what irony can be. How many facets it has, and in what rotten places it can be found.  As I wrote, I expect this to become much clearer seeing it on the stage – (in case this will actually happen, of course. At the moment, I am less optimistic than I was when I started reading. But I guess that’s Chekhov “taking over” – definitely enhances the feeling that nothing I want that much is ever going to happen.)

I wasn’t exactly reading “Uncle Vanya” these last few days – this time of the year where there are so many holidays that I barely noticed I was working. But I continued reading Chekhov, and this meant to stay in touch with the play, continually “uploading” what I have already read.  I read the Wikipedia on Chekhov, or poured over it, to find some indication for my intuition about Dr. Astrov being (partially) a self-portrait of the author. (And found it.) I read part of the introduction of my Oxford paperback edition of the plays (which contains “Ivanov”, “The Seagull”, “Uncle Vanya”, “Three Sisters”, and “The Cherry Orchard” – in the order the plays were originally produced on the stage, and probably the order in which they were written). And, so far, I read “Ivanov” and the first act of “The Seagull”. Besides, I had a very constructive talk with Claudia at the Victorian Teahouse about “Uncle Vanya” as she has been reading the play at the same time. And I’ll jot down what happened to me doing all this because this turned out unexpectedly interesting so far.  

At the moment, it even feels as if I had turned a page on reading – and on “realism”. Which is great, and scary because turning a page always means leaving something behind. (This might be the ad hoc reason for watching all the “old” stuff by Richard Armitage “on the side” – because I feel that this might be the last time I’ll want to do it.) Reading so much Shakespeare for the last … WHAT!!! FIVE years now certainly was this unbelievable experience, but it meant getting used to it as well. At the beginning I noticed it as a completely new environment to read and live in. (Fictional worlds: the main point of them is that they are somewhere to STAY – outside the real world! I don’t really stay in all the text environments that I explore. Actually, in very few of them – as I just noticed watching a lot of old stuff on DVD to file it - and STAYING THERE might be the activity that turns them into fictional WORLDS.) Now I don’t notice the environment anymore, being so used to it. But I know that I got into it so deep and stayed so long because I LIKED it, and this is the main difference. I didn’t understand why I liked it so much better than anything else I have ever read, but I certainly noticed that it is an environment that allows me to get into NEW things. An environment that SET ME FREE. With Chekhov, it is the other way round. I so distinctly remember reading the first few lines of “Uncle Vanya”, uploading my old acquaintance with Chekhov and thinking: No, that’s definitely over! NO WAY I’ll go there EVER again.

And then I DID … Well, in a way, I had to because it was “on”. Because we got tickets for this play I would have been looking forward to no matter what – and this unique opportunity of exchanging my thoughts with someone else. No doubt that, without these enticements, I would never have taken up Chekhov again! Somebody had to throw the bait – and “they” definitely knew what to throw me – but then “Chekhov” took over … Right now, I am just amazed how unexpected this turned out and am trying not to pretend that I know anything about it. But there is no doubt that there is a most substantial fictional world in the making. I can FEEL the difference, compared with the other – rather more attractive! - fictional opportunities that would be available to me at the moment. This is the “ultimate stage” of realism that I reach very seldom. That a fictional world becomes so “real” – necessary, unavoidable? – that I couldn’t get away once I committed to it. This might even be the most liberating experience about “Shakespeare”: that it always gets me into something else. Chekhov just gets me right in there – into the cage! No wonder I began looking for a way out as soon as I got caught. (And, this time, I would really want to know what it feels like to actually BE in one of these cages, playing one of these characters!)

One of the first things I noticed was that I knew the world so well already, almost immediately followed by the realization that I hadn’t really understood anything about it. And I obviously decided to allow myself a lot of time for this. Easing into it appears appropriate here, not jumping to conclusion as I did in my last post!

And this will mean patiently going back to the characters, as long as I am reading this. Which is also the most fascinating part of it, anticipating that I will see them on the stage. And there they will turn out very different, I am certain – as they should! But in this case I won’t get anything out of pretending that we weren’t already acquainted. One thing that I noticed talking with Claudia was that I had been unclear about what I meant when I described Dr. Astrov’s behaviour as “monstrous”. I certainly didn’t mean his behaviour towards Sonya! He has no idea that she loves him until Helen approaches him on her behalf, and then his reaction - one of the most brutal moments of the play: “No” as the only comment on the big revelation! – is just about the truth of the matter. As bad as this might be, in the long run, the bare truth is always the best remedy. And of course it is right that he intends to stay away indefinitely after this, to spare her the pain. Considering his past behaviour, I doubt that he will actually follow through with this, but there is no reason to doubt his good intentions.

No, when I wrote “monstrous”, I meant his behaviour towards Helen. And I even had a bad conscience about being judgmental - as I apparently noticed that KIND AND UNDERSTANDING is a much better attitude for Chekhov. It’s all getting bad enough “on its own”. And, exploring this, I just noticed something even more astonishing. The best way of actually GETTING MYSELF OUT of this world is being judgmental – and, with somebody like Helen, it shouldn’t be that difficult. But obviously I HAD to follow Chekhov – who definitely had been throwing me a bait with Dr. Astrov being so accomplished and genuinely attractive AND self-conscious at the same time, which must be my ideal of what a human being should be like! Nonetheless somebody who feels real – not a “paper character”! Reading this as I did – feeling so “understood” -  I was inclined to do what Chekhov “wanted” = following him and be kind and understanding even towards people I would have despised or loathed as the reader I was thirty years ago. I first noticed this about Vanya – and it certainly helped that I was so looking forward to seeing Toby Jones play him. So, I made a GENUINE EFFORT to understand him – and it wasn’t that hard!

I didn’t really try with the other characters before we met at the Victorian House. I purposefully shoved Sonya and Professor Serebryakov to one side, assigning them a category. Which is what we do with people we judge to be unimportant or which we don’t like. Actually, I am looking forward to Ciáran Hinds playing the desperately unhappy Professor very much, and am sure he will do this a hundred and thirty percent RIGHT, as he always does. And I was taking the character seriously as he has a valid reason for being so unhappy. But that can wait until I will see it – or won’t? - he isn’t actually THAT important.

Where Sonya is concerned, it is so obvious that I shouldn’t have to mention it: She is just LIKE ME – or rather as I wanted to see me when I was young. And I give her that: she certainly IS admirable – so, trying to be that person wasn’t ENTIRELY a waste of time! 😉 Even better: She actually found the man she could love for a GOOD reason AND is mature enough to accept his darker side as a correlative of his good qualities – so, should even be capable of developing a GENUINE love for him. The difference between us is obviously that this man is actually there, in her life, and won’t have her – and this is where I’ll never go. And not just for the good reason that – as part of the audience! – actually being in one of these cages would instantly take all the fun out of it.

   

Unlike with these two people whom I felt I already knew so well, I was fascinated with Helen. I think because she is so “empty” in a way that she COULD be almost anything. And because there is this gulf between her being such an apparent “nonentity” and having such an impact on other people. Obviously she is beautiful – but I always think that people should be able get over this. (Well, there is a lot of evidence against it – and maybe I just cannot appreciate what it feels like to be bored stiff inside …) Anyway, I came to think that there must be something more to her - and I noticed this when I tried to make a case for her arguing with Claudia. Not very successfully because there isn’t really much of a case to make. And I probably should trust Dr. Astrov: Being so perceptive about himself, he should be a good JUDGE of other people. So, was this just me trying to be KIND AND UNDERSTANDING???

Maybe the most interesting thing about all this is the way I REACT to these characters. From the beginning – and this may be the ultimate stage of realism! – I reacted to them not as if they were characters in a play but as if they were PEOPLE. Which means real beings that go BEYOND that stage and that text. And I suppose THIS is Chekhov’s major achievement: that he can get “us” to do this. It is how this singular human COMPLEXITY is created. I might be right about them or wrong – and, like in real life, I’ll never know! But, for some reason, I became inclined to treat them with kindness.

There are only two people in this play – out of five! – who  are – or might be? - in need of kindness: Vanya and Helen. Dr. Astrov is not. He lacks nothing but what he cannot find in himself, and what is nowhere else to be found. And I know myself well enough to know that Sonya will always cope. What she would need to be happy is somebody to love, not somebody who loves her. (I might be wrong there, but I will never know, unless she “turns” me on the stage …) Professor Serebryakov is plagued with illness and resentment but too self-centered to RESPOND to kindness. He just drains Helen, whereas she cannot get anything out of their relationship anymore. Not even a sense of purpose. (Might be wrong there as well!)

Vanya has genuine human qualities, established beyond doubt by his past actions and unacknowledged loyalty for Serebryakov. What actually is ATTRACTIVE  and moving about him is what I’d call a “purity of feeling”. And I think that Dr. Astrov recognizes this and responds to him as a kindred spirit – the only other man in his environment with genuine human content! Therefore he feels compassion for him and treats him with kindness as a friend. Same for Sonya – on whom he probably never wasted a conscious thought, but whom he likes and genuinely respects nonetheless because of her good qualities. I suppose, all her live she has been nothing but useful, and this is what he can appreciate in himself as well. Out of genuine respect for her feelings, he is even prepared to make a sacrifice. 

It is because of this humanity that his behaviour towards Helen struck me as monstrous. He even feels contempt for her and sees her as a nonentity – and this is probably the REASON that he proposes to have sex with her. (Of course he WANTED to have sex with her for a long time, but he would have taken it up in a different way – or not at all - if he really cared for her.) I am very curious about how this will turn out on the stage because I realized that I came to JUDGE his behaviour so harshly following Chekhovs “lead” on kindness and understanding and the benefit of the doubt. As I have no clue about Helen at all, I should have followed Dr. Astrov’s judgement about her as established above. Instead I followed Chekov. Unlike for his “alter ego” in the play, for him there are few people – or none – whom he wouldn’t want to give the benefit of the doubt. (This is even the most important thing that I think happened in the big gap between “Ivanov” and “The Seagull”. He became less and less interested in judging people instead of understanding them.)

So, I gave Helen the benefit of the doubt and assumed that she might deserve kindness. She might in fact be a “nonentity” – the incurable human disease in “Chekhov” – but she certainly doesn’t WANT to be. And she might FEEL and resent to be treated as one … Though this MIGHT not be the case at all! This is what I am so looking forward to see on the stage – because I expect to see the SUBTEXT other people are creating, by directing it and by acting. And, as I already established about irony, there is a big amount of subtext. Countless opportunities of bringing this play to life. And there is, without doubt, a big subtext about sex. NOT JUST what “we“ supply, being born in the twentieth century, but what actually HAS to be there. It might very well be that Helen is past any consideration for kindness. She will certainly have to be shocked – but the shock might not be (entirely) unpleasant …? Maybe, given a little more time, she might have come to the conclusion that a healthy shag would be exactly what the doctor prescribed.

“Dark humour and hidden passions” – feels about right, now I came to think that this is what I began to add myself! And, to rub this in: The subtext must not be added just because “we” feel that it should be there but because of what is actually MISSING. The hidden being so much bigger and heavier than what is revealed on the surface: I think this might be the “aesthetical” pull that drew me into “Chekhov” so fast that I became dizzy. 

So, I was definitely right from the beginning: It became more and more crucial where I MYSELF am in this play. Where I don’t want to be and where I choose to be, and what attitude I take towards these people. And I cannot help feeling that making me a part of what happens in this way is the biggest portion of “aesthetical” respect that I have been issued in a long time.