Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    An Artist's Story: Short Story
    An Artist's Story: Short Story
    An Artist's Story: Short Story
    Ebook32 pages36 minutes

    An Artist's Story: Short Story

    By Anton Chekhov

    5/5

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    An idle artist meets a woman and her two daughters while traveling the Russian countryside. The eldest daughter, Lida, is strong-minded and purposeful, intent on her mission to better the lives of the local peasants. Unlike her elder sister, the younger daughter, Genya, is sweet and simple. But when the artist begins falling in love with Genya, he finds himself perpetually drawn into political arguments with her sister that threaten his happiness.

    HarperPerennial Classics brings great works of literature to life in digital format, upholding the highest standards in ebook production and celebrating reading in all its forms. Look for more titles in the HarperPerennial Classics collection to build your digital library.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateJul 21, 2015
    ISBN9781443447980
    An Artist's Story: Short Story
    Author

    Anton Chekhov

    Anton Chekhov was born in Taganrog, in southern Russia, and in his youth paid for his own education and supported his entire family by writing short, satirical sketches of Russian life. Though he eventually became a physician and once considered medicine his principal career, he continued to gain popularity and praise as a writer for various Russian newspapers, eventually authoring more literary work and ultimately his most well-known plays, including Ivanov, The Seagull, and Uncle Vanya. He died of tuberculosis in 1904, and is regarded as one of the best short story writers in history, influencing such authors as Ernest Hemingway, Vladimir Nabokov, and Raymond Carver.

    Read more from Anton Chekhov

    Related to An Artist's Story

    Related ebooks

    Classics For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    Related categories

    Reviews for An Artist's Story

    5/5

    1 rating0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      An Artist's Story - Anton Chekhov

      ebook_cover_placeholder.jpg

      An Artist's Story

      Short Story

      Anton Chekhov

      logo.jpg

      CONTENTS

      An Artist’s Story

      About the Author

      About the Series

      Copyright

      About the Publisher

      An Artist’s Story

      I

      It was six or seven years ago when I was living in one of the districts of the province of T——, on the estate of a young landowner called Byelokurov, who used to get up very early, wear a peasant tunic, drink beer in the evenings, and continually complain to me that he never met with sympathy from any one. He lived in the lodge in the garden, and I in the old seigniorial house, in a big room with columns, where there was no furniture except a wide sofa on which I used to sleep, and a table on which I used to lay out patience. There was always, even in still weather, a droning noise in the old Amos stoves, and in thunderstorms the whole house shook and seemed to be cracking into pieces; and it was rather terrifying, especially at night, when all the ten big windows were suddenly lit up by lightning.

      Condemned by destiny to perpetual idleness, I did absolutely nothing. For hours together I gazed out of window at the sky, at the birds, at the avenue, read everything that was brought me by post, slept. Sometimes I went out of the house and wandered about till late in the evening.

      One day as I was returning home, I accidentally strayed into a place I did not know. The sun was already sinking, and the shades of evening lay across the flowering rye. Two rows of old, closely planted, very tall fir trees stood like two dense walls forming a picturesque, gloomy avenue. I easily climbed over the fence and walked along the avenue, slipping over the fir-needles which lay two inches deep on the ground. It was still and dark, and only here and there on the high treetops the vivid golden light quivered and made rainbows in the spiders’ webs. There was a strong, almost stifling smell of resin. Then I turned into a long avenue of limes. Here, too, all was desolation and age; last year’s

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1