FOR
some time I have been thinking to write on this subject. They have
given a great deal of reading pleasure and left me with admiration for the way
they write. The rich culture and life has been explained so beautifully. Who
are the writers I have read then?
Leo
Tolstoy. Ivan Turgenev. Fedor Dostoyevsky. Anton Chekhov.
There
isn’t much to say about the great writers that hasn’t already been said. I want
to keep this short. The first three are great novelists and Chekhov is the
great short story writer. They all have a way with words and sheer story
telling power that leaves you speechless. When I read War and Peace, and Anna
Karenna by Tolstoy, I thought, well there’s no point in carrying on as writer. I
actually stopped writing for a few months!
And friends
you will need time for a War and Peace, it’s a long read. You cannot match these
novels. They are all time greats for a reason. But of course you carry on writing
as you realise that you too are writing with your viewpoint on the world. The
joys and pains of writing are addictive. I don’t know if many read Turgenev
now, but his writing is very elegant and I can see how Hemingway was influenced
by his writing style, as I am sure so many others were too.
For me,
Tolstoy is the stand out Novelist. From a personal view however, I didn’t think
his short stories were as good as Chekhov’s. In those days, they didn’t have
computers or laptops, and as I work on my novels and short stories, I can
appreciate the tremendous hard work they must have put in to produce such great
works.
They
must have hand-written so many drafts to reach that perfection of sentence and story-telling.
But then, nothing worthwhile is ever achieved by cutting corners.
These writers introduced Russian life
and thinking in a beautiful manner. You need to put away some special time and I
cannot recommend them highly enough. It is one of life’s pleasures, like riding
an elegant horse or visiting some mountain scenery with a clear blue lake
beyond.
Here is what Maxim Gorky observed when he went to visit Anton Chekov in 1899,
and it’s something I liked. I think I would have liked Chekhov, if I had the
privilege to meet him.
“It seems to me that in the presence of
Anton Chekhov everyone felt an unconscious desire to be simple, more truthful,
more himself and throw of the grand bookish phrases in their anxiety to appear
European. I noticed that whenever he met one of these dressed up individuals,
he felt an overmastering impulse to free them from his ponderous and
superfluous trappings. All his life Chekhov lived the life of the soul and was
always himself. He had a way of making others simple.
Once he
was visited by three extremely dressy ladies, filling his room with the rustle
of silk petticoats and the fragrance of heady perfumes, they seated themselves
pompously opposite their host and feigning an intense interest in politics,
began putting questions to him.
-How do you think the war will end, Anton
Pavlovich?
Anton coughed, paused for thought and replied
in his soft, grave kindly voice:
-No doubt in peace.
-That of course, but who will win? The Greeks
or the Turks?
-It seems to me that the stronger side will
win.
-And which to do you consider the stronger
side? The ladies asked in one voice.
-The side which is better fed and better
educated.
-Isn’t he witty? cried one of the ladies.
-And which do you prefer, the Greeks or the
Turks? asked another.
Anton
Pavlovich looked at her kindly and replied with a courteous smile.
-I like fruit pastilles, do you?
-Oh yes! cried the lady eagerly. –They have
such a delicious taste, said the others.
All
three began an animated conversation about fruit pastilles, showing an
intricate knowledge of the subject, and promised on leaving to send him a box.
They were delighted not to have to pretend an interest in the war, that up until
now they had never given a thought. When they left I said.
-You had a nice talk.
Anton
laughed, -Everyone should speak in his own language.
