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Black Monk and Other Stories [Paperback]

Anton Pavlovich Chekhov (Author)
5.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (1 customer review)


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Paperback $8.55  
Paperback, June 1989 --  
Preloaded Digital Audio Player $39.99  
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Book Description

June 1989
This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text, images, or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1915. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... WARD No. 6 i AT the side of the hospital yard stands a large wing, nearly surrounded by a forest of burdocks, nettles, and wild hemp. The roof is red, the chimney is on the point of tumbling, the steps are rotten and overgrown with grass, and of the plaster only traces remain. The front gazes at the hospital, the back looks into the fields, from which it is separated only by a grey, spiked fence. The spikes with their sharp points sticking upwards, the fence, the wing itself, have that melancholy, God-forsaken air which is seen only in hospitals and prisons. If you are not afraid of being stung by nettles, come along the narrow path, and see what is going on inside. Open the hall-door and enter the hall. Here, against the walls and around the stove, are heaped whole mountains of rubbish. Mattresses, old tattered dressing-gowns, trousers, blue-striped shirts, worn-out footgear, all good-for-nothing, lie in tangled and crushed heaps, rot, and exhale a suffocating smell. On the top of this rubbish heap, pipe eternally in mouth, lies the watchman Nikita, an old soldier. His face is coarse and drink-sodden, his hanging eye-brows give him the appearance of a sheep-dog, he is small and sinewy, but his carriage is impressive and his fists are strong. He belongs to that class of simple, expeditious, positive, and dull persons, who above all things in the world worship order, and find in this a justification of their existence. He beats his charges in the face, in the chest, in the back, in short, wherever his fists chance to strike; and he is convinced that without this beating there would be no order in the universe. After you pass through Nikita's hall, you enter the large, roomy dormitory which takes up the rest of the wing. In this room the walls are painted...
--This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.

Editorial Reviews

Review

The clear, compelling narratives are master-pieces of literature. -- Booklist

What’s within is pure gold. -- Library Journal --This text refers to the Audio CD edition.

Language Notes

Text: English, Russian (translation) --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

Product Details

  • Paperback: 1 pages
  • Publisher: Hippocrene Books (June 1989)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0870527711
  • ISBN-13: 978-0870527715
  • Average Customer Review: 5.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (1 customer review)
  • Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #6,509,542 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars Chekhov's Dreamy X-File, May 23, 2003
By 
This review is from: Black Monk and Other Stories (Paperback)
Chekhov's a master.

Even here, the shortest of stories, is as powerful as his most popular plays. And while the story shares similar themes and environs; the lonely country estate, a beautiful orchard, family angst, malaise, boredom, nature, madness, creativity and the interesting-and invigorating-visitor who comes to stay, there's even more here.

Call it the supernatural, insomnia-induced hallucination or the madness & joy of creative genius, Chekhov stumbled onto something new here. A column of smoke, a dark tornado, a monk robed in black. Our protagonist, Andrey Kovrin, tells Tanya Pesotskaya, the estate-owner's daughter, about the black monk, imparting him as a legend, a story "not distinguished for its clarity." Andrey soon thereafter meets the monk, who comes first as a force of nature, later preceded by violins and singing. As deep as Andrey's conversations with the monk later come to be, the surrounding tale of Andrey and the estate-owner's daughter is classic Chekhov and stands on its own, x-file or no x-file.

I loved this story. Hope you like it too.

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