“I had a professor once who said that as Chekhov got older he lopped off the eventful beginnings and twist endings of his early works and that quivering middle was the mature short story.”
-David Edelstein, Slate
Here’s to you, David Edelstein. Geez, I love you more than you could know. This sentence (the phrase “quivering middle,” actually), in a movie discussion I’d already posted about, convinced me to some changes in S(J03). Ch-ch-ch-changes? Well, I lopped off the ending, for starters. And there was that schmaltzy, obviously un-quivering scene with the clock radio. Gone. At first I was afraid, I was petrified. But when I heard Chekhov’d done it, well, ain’t no stoppin’ me now. [I have stopped the…cheap trick…of making insipid oldies music references, though. Boston, Chicago, you may proceed.]
So while I must confess to not having read much Chekhov, I have read several articles about Chekhov, and they have alternately inspired/influenced/condemned me. There’s John Bayley’s NY Review of Books. Review. And those previously untranslated short stories in Harper’s, the ones where a friend I’d lost track of turned up in the translated byline. And a few more here and there. Cart, Horse. Horse, Cart, I know, but if I’m going to continue making naturalistic short films, I think I’d better study Chekhov a little more carefully. And I hear he wrote scripts, too. (image: nybooks.com)