In Chekov's short story, "The Darling," protagonist, Olenka, is attracted to a manager of an open-air theater in Russia. The manager's name is Kukin, and he becomes her first of 3 husbands. Kukin is full of spite and rancor and some might conclude is not in her best interests--particularly because Olenka's demeanor is apparently so opposite.
Neither readers nor the character herself ever know much of what she is like beyond surface. All we know is that her problems keep on keeping on. And in there is the focus of Chekov's vision.
"Well, rain away," Kukin says of the bad weather threatening his theater. "Flood the garden, drown me! Damn my luck in this world and the next! Let the artists have me up! Send me to prison! -- to Siberia! --the scaffold! " And then he says the same thing again the next day and the next.
Nonetheless, Olenka gets attracted to him. They marry. According to Chekov, Kukin "aroused deep and genuine affection in her." Her response: she "becomes him," ignoring the fact that even on the surface her personality is on the other end of the continuum from his.
In Chekov's world, emotions are real, to be sure, but he likes reminding us they may not lead to "real" relationships. In Chekov's world affection can be "genuine," but not necessarily good for you.
Olenka "wanted a love that would absorb her whole being, her whole soul, [love] that would give her ideas and an object in life and would warm her blood." Well, it happened. She was absorbed.
Thematically, Chekov's presentation of this kind of "absorption" is akin to being absorbed in quicksand. And for this she Olenka is willing to pay the price of losing her self so completely that she would be left with really no trace of it.
Like Raymond Carver's un-named father character (who is also treated as "selfless," in a negative sense) in the short story, "The Father," which we referred to in the first post of this series, Olenka becomes dysfunctionally "self-less." And like Carver's other previously characters characters in "Neighbors," Olenka is also only too willing to become anyone else other than to be herself. In fact, she, as do Carver's characters, "prefers" being someone else.
This all brings to mind a question the poet Robert Bly posed in a poem years ago: Can one thin his or her deepest character and potential down so much that there is nothing left?
Carver seems to say, yes. Ditto for Chekov. This "condition" within these characters brings on all kinds of problems which influence their overall happiness. By comparison, and as we discussed in the previous post, in Steinbeck country there may be something worse: a partial self-awareness, such as Elisa and Henry demonstrate, with the inability (due to multiple reasons, internal and external) to bridge that with their life-goals.
As long as Chekov's Olenka, and these other characters, are busy being someone else, they don't have to spend any time figuring out who they are, what they want, where they want to be-or even bother having, as Chekov puts it, "a genuine opinion about anything." Being someone else, in these stories, has perks, however: It does alleviate boredom, even bring forth a certain type of love, and it keeps one from the work of bridging dreams to reality. What we as readers are focused on, however, is on the cost of such behavior.
We have been exploring , throughout this "mid-life" series, John Gardner's notion that fiction offers a "test laboratory "in which you can rigorously test life--to see what works, what doesn't, and see how to use this "fictional" information to write your own prescription to a better you.
Carver's and Chekov's fictional labs both suggest that the cost of losing self-awareness is too high.
These fictions help us discover some of the fixes:
1. Learn to spend a lot of time discovering your own dreams
2. Identify your own core values
3. Figure out ways to pursue your dreams with people of like core values
We see that chasing after shallow symbols of achievement--trophies--in the end, doesn't do much in terms of life-satisfaction or have any real staying power. We see that 10, 20, even 30 years of this kind of activity can be dangerous. The literary message: Don't lose connection with your self or your dreams.
Stories can help you achieve greater introspection so that when opportunity presents itself in real life, you can better coordinate thoughts, feelings, and actions so that they lead toward goals that are closer to your true spirit.
In conclusion to this series, I encourage you to create your own fiction laboratory and library. You can even try your own hand at story telling. Here's is a creative writing activity to get you started.
Exercise: Write a story based on this: Visualize a man or woman (a fictional you) who is at a place in life (job, relationship, financial, etc.) where the window for a major life-transformation is about to present itself.
Before you write, stop and let your imagination wander. Let your thoughts float across your mind like reflections on a crystal clear and calm lake on a beautiful day. Don't try to stick to any of them. Think about what you might like to change in your life in the near future. Let a myriad of possibilities float by. Just sit back and view them like a mind-movie, with interest. Repeat this several times, not necessarily in the same sitting.
Now, consider your daily events. Introduce into your visualization another character. This character-a fictional character--has already achieved something you are seeking. Outwardly he or she looks different from you, yet internally values most of the same things as you. Imagine bumping into this "fictional" character in a daily scenario familiar to you.
Now start writing all this down!
Let your characters meet and interact naturally. Bring in a dialogue. Your characters may experience a little turbulence here and there, because outwardly they seem different. Let this bubble up through their dialogue and thoughts and in other ways. The conflict is what will make their coming together fun to watch as they mess up and recuperate--or not--and go on.
Keep writing. See what occurs as things go their course.
Enjoy.
Image: Simon Howden
