Introduction to the Short Story. A Gentle Seduction. In "the Lady with the Little Dog", Anton Chekhov takes an issue as charged as

Transcription

1 A Gentle Seduction In "the Lady with the Little Dog", Anton Chekhov takes an issue as charged as adultery and makes it seem prosaic and understandable. He develops the main character, Dmitri Dmitrich Gurov, into a believably human and realistic persona; this plausibility causes the reader to be hypnotized into accepting whatever is happening as rational and acceptable. Chekhov makes us comfortable with the setting, which creates a distinctly easy-going mood. By placing a character in this location that is very approachable and relaxed, he pulls us in further. He then explores that character s inner thoughts and actions, showing us who he is and what motivates him. The combination of all the elements of setting and characterization, presented through a careful narration, has the effect of easing the reader into believing that this is very much like real life, and Dmitri's adulterous actions do not alarm the reader or seem the least unnatural. While Anna is being slowly seduced by Dmitri, the reader is also being seduced into believing there is nothing wrong with that. The setting for "the Lady with the Little Dog" is Yalta, a resort town. This idyllic place sets the reader at ease through the use of a languid, laid-back tone. The setting also seems to set the characters themselves at ease, paving the way for their lazy slide into infidelity. They both came from the busyness of their everyday lives to this place in order to relax. The town seems a perfect place for romance, and it is described in gentle, painterly words: "the water was of a lilac color, so soft and warm, and over it the moon cast a golden strip" (300). The image is very visually evocative and moody, and it presents a reader with a clear and present feeling of relaxation and tranquility. Even after - 1 -

2 Dmitri and Anna meet and begin their relationship there is none of the excitement or frenetic pace that might be expected of an extramarital affair. The days are lazy and time just coasts along at a slow pace. "A week had passed since they became acquainted. It was Sunday. Inside it was stuffy, but outside the dust flew in whirls, hats blew off" (301). The relaxed scenario is infectious in even short passages such as this one. It recalls childhood vacations and fosters a peaceful feeling in the reader. The two lovers are hypnotized by the simpleness and honesty of that place, without noticing that they are being swept up by their passion. The two spend their days traveling around together on mundane adventures, "in Oreanda they sat on a bench not far from the church, looking down on the sea, and were silent" (303). Setting the scene in this way lulls the reader into a sort of somnambulant easiness wherein the story takes on a dreamlike quality. The characters seem to be very much at ease with each other, in much the same way that happily married couples spend their time in each others company. The reader is not encouraged to dwell on the motivations of Dmitri, or the fact that he is having an affair; and this seems evident in the characters' own thoughts as well. It is easy to imagine the two vacationers coming together in such a place, and Dmitri's natural magnetism works along with the setting to make their relationship seem obvious, if not inevitable. Dmitri himself is a naturally charming and approachable man. His pace is unhurried, and he is confident and comfortable. After two weeks in Yalta he "was used to it" (299), and this ease mirrors his experience as an older man who can paternalistically console the nervous young Anna. She is described as exhibiting "all the timorousness and angularity of inexperienced youth" (302). He is attracted to her innocence and naiveté, but he is also occasionally bored with her emotional outbursts

3 He seems to put her at ease, though, and in their very first conversation Anna's demure discomfort and girlish blushing is subdued by Dmitri's radiating calm. After they ate together for the first time they had "a light, bantering conversation... of free, contented people, who do not care where they go or what they talk about" (300). There is no hint of an aggressive seduction taking place. Dmitri is described as having an "attractive and elusive" nature that "disposed women towards him and enticed them" (300). She, in effect, falls into a trap that he has set. As the relationship continues innocently enough, it becomes clear to the reader and to both of the lovers that "there was no escape" (301). A reader might, with some detachment, see that there clearly is a seduction taking place, but it is hard to place the blame entirely on one or the other party. Dmitri is so unhurried one might think him unenthusiastic or uncaring and Anna is simply young and unhappy with her marriage. They simply seem to drift together naturally. It isn't quite enough to leave the story as ambiguous as this, so the narrator provides us with some clues with which we can make sense of this relationship. The narrator focuses more closely on Dmitri and his thoughts and observations, only occasionally entering Anna's viewpoint. The reader learns, by use of one-line internal monologues, some of Dmitri s personal ideas and thoughts, such as his misogynistic leanings: women are "an inferior race!" (299). What are revealed through the monologues are often summaries of his thoughts, which are generally expanded upon through more abstract narrative means. It is through some of his history, as related by the narrator, that we learn why he thinks of women as inferior: bitter past relationships, his ill-fated marriage to a woman who doesn't seem to suit him, and his own repeated adultery have all weakened his respect for women. He later says about Anna, that - 3 -

4 "there's something pathetic in her all the same" (301), as he lies in bed thinking about her beauty and youth after their first encounter. These narrative interjections of his actual, literal thought serve to crystallize his ideas and opinions, leaving little ambiguity in their intention. Beyond these, the narrator reveals Dmitri s innermost philosophical conceptualizations. In several passages we find him traveling into deep thoughts: "Gurov reflected that, essentially, if you thought of it, everything was beautiful in this world, everything except for what we ourselves think and do when we forget the higher goals of being and our human dignity" (303). By showing us this side of him, the narrator dispels any notion that the reader will see him as a simple-minded lecherous beast, despite the numerous references to his previous extramarital sexual conquests. The narration is also conspicuous in what it doesn't tell the reader. The narrator does not reveal any actual sexual contact beyond kissing at any point in the story. It is alluded to, but never named. Anna certainly reacts to their first kiss as though it were something more when she "takes a very serious attitude towards what had happened, as if it were her fall" (302), which seems like an over reaction to a fairly innocuous and impulsive kiss. The reader is led to believe that there is something more happening, but if the act of sex was put into words the reader would be more likely to judge the proceedings unfavorably. This narrative sleight-of-hand further serves to take the readers mind off of what is really happening and encourages them to think about how natural and unassuming the whole process is. The reader of this story is encouraged to develop a sense of sympathy with Dmitri and Anna. We are asked to consider the faithless acts from their viewpoint, where it is presented as something innocent, perhaps even beautiful in its own right. Through the use of setting Chekhov disarms us and lulls us into complacency. Dmitri is a very - 4 -

5 likeable, carefree and straightforward man, which causes us to look at him in a positive light, and not as immoral or perverted. The narrator then shows us his own justifications and thoughts in such a way that we are carried on by his logic to conclude that he really is a good-hearted man, despite his actions. Throughout the reading, these effects are all so subtle and well executed that they are not immediately apparent. We are taken for a ride, and when we get off we grudgingly admit that we understand and identify with the man who is maintaining a running affair with a younger woman. It's a philosophical and moral feat of no small proportions, and in breaking down the presentation of the story we can see how it is achieved. Works Cited Chekhov, Anton. The Lady with the Little Dog. trans.richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. The Story and its Writer.Ed.Ann Charters. Boston, NY: Bedford/St. Martins s,