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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Love to Russia is really love to the old mother-pig," said Suvorin. "But no matter, you get used to it." The German, however, never gets used to it. That is why in the old days the farms of the German colonist in Russia used to be neat patches of an entirely orderly pattern, looking like islands in the wild waste of Slav disorder.
After about a month in Moscow, Chekhov went to Petersburg to see Suvorin. The majority of his Petersburg friends and admirers met him with feelings of envy and ill-will. People gave dinners in his honour and praised him to the skies, but at the same time they were ready to "tear him to pieces." Even in Moscow such people did not give him a moment for work or rest.
He was revolted by the ceremonious dinners with which he was welcomed as an author, while the whole province was suffering from famine. Moreover travelling with Suvorin tied him down and hindered his independent action. Chekhov longed for intense personal activity such as he displayed later in his campaign against the cholera.
The first impulse to self-criticism was given me by a very kind and, to the best of my belief, sincere letter from Suvorin. I began to think of writing something decent, but I still had no faith in my being any good as a writer. And then, unexpected and undreamed of, came your letter.
Here you would like me to lose one hundred and fifteen roubles and be put to shame by the editor; others, your father among them, are delighted with the story. Some send insulting letters to Suvorin, pouring abuse on the paper and on me, etc. Who, then, is right? Who is the true judge? Allah forgive you if you were sincere when you wrote those words!
This charming Monte Carlo is extremely like a fine ... den of thieves. The suicide of losers is quite a regular thing. Suvorin fils lost 300 francs. We shall soon see each other. I am weary of wandering over the face of the earth. One must draw the line. My heels are sore as it is. NICE, Monday in Holy Week, April, 1891. We are staying in Nice, on the sea-front.
Chekhov organized a scheme for buying up the horses and feeding them till the spring at the expense of a relief fund, and then, as soon as field labour was possible, distributing them among the peasants who were without horses. After visiting the province of Nizhni-Novogorod, Chekhov went with Suvorin to Voronezh. But this expedition was not a successful one.
Today he was mendaciously telling a lady that he had a book published by Suvorin; I, of course, put on an expression of awe. My money is all safe, except what I have eaten. They won't feed me for nothing, the scoundrels. I am neither gay nor bored, but there is a sort of numbness in my soul. I like to sit without moving or speaking. To-day, for instance, I have scarcely uttered five words.
There are no poplars. The Kuvshinnikov General was lying. I have seen no nightingales. There are magpies and cuckoos. I received a telegram of eighty words from Suvorin to-day. Excuse this letter's being like a hotch-potch. It's incoherent, but I can't help it. Sitting in an hotel room one can't write better. Excuse its being long, It's not my fault.
It's dull, in fact. I went to-day to a dog-show; I went there with Suvorin, who at the moment I am writing these lines is standing by the table and asking me to write and tell you that I have been to the dog-show with the famous dog Suvorin.... January, later. I am alive and well, I have no palpitations, I've no money either, and everything is going well.
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