The Man with the Dog: Writing Tips From Anton Chekhov

Because we're super-committed to keeping our marriage super-spicy, my husband and I recently did something super-radical: We got off the couch, we put on clothing that did not contain elastic, and we trotted our date-ready selves off to the theater to take in Christopher Durang's ode to Chekhov, Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike. I don't say this often, but it really was worth leaving the house for. The first act was big and loud and riotously funny, woven with references that made you feel good about yourself for catching. The second act grounded the play, ending in a quiet burst of compassion.

All this Chekhovian love prompted me to give some of his short stories a re-read. I started with The Lady with the Dog, which Tennessee Williams referred to as "one of the greatest short stories ever written." I don't disagree, although Chekhov could have described the dog more, or given the dog a name, or maybe written it from the dog's perspective. (I don't say this out of simple dog motherhood. Chekhov was actually a devoted dachshund owner, too, so he had an obligation.) Four-legged representation aside, the economy in this story is dazzling. Here are some takeaways.


1. Show Character Through Action
Here's what Chekhov tells us about his protagonist's relationship to his wife, and to women in general:  "He had begun being unfaithful to her long ago -- had been unfaithful to her often, and, probably on that account, almost always spoke ill of women, and when they were talked about in his presence, used to call them "the lower race."" Oh, so he's that guy. Got it. A lesser writer would have told us that the protagonist feels that women are the lower race. Chekhov shows us this through something the character often says. It's just the facts, inferior human being Ma'am, with a teeny bit of psychoanalysis thrown in through his use of the word "probably."

2. Setting: A Little Dab'll Do Ya
The protagonist and his newest conquest of the lower race have just met. They're flirting furiously for two married people. Now they're taking a walk in Yalta. "They walked and talked of the strange light on the sea: the water was of a soft warm lilac hue, and there was a golden streak from the moon upon it. They talked of how sultry it was after a hot day." In just two sentences, Chekhov gives us two colors (violet, gold), temperature (sultry, natch!) and a time of day (moon, after a hot day.) We have a lovely and efficient picture with a bit of foreshadowing. He continues to describe the weather throughout the story, mirroring the mood of the protagonist, but he doesn't succumb to painting the cherry tree blossom by blossom. When the affair is new and tantalizing, the characters are consumed with escaping the summer heat. When the affair gets more complicated, the snow falls in Moscow.

3. Be Objective
I have a good writer friend who often says that the most unattractive novel is one where the protagonist pities himself. Chekhov deals in broken people, but he's objective about it. By describing his characters' actions and behaviors, he leaves us room to feel sorry for them. (This is a much better tactic than begging for sympathy, and I'm betting that his dachshunds were all way better behaved than mine is.) Here's the protagonist in thick of his affair: "He went up to her and took her by the shoulders to say something affectionate and cheering, and at that moment he saw himself in the looking-glass. His hair was already beginning to turn grey. And it seemed strange to him that he had grown so much older, so much plainer during the last few years. The shoulders on which his hands rested were warm and quivering. He felt compassion for this life, still so warm and lovely, but probably already not far from beginning to fade and wither like his own." 
Poor misogynist cad. Poor sidedish. It's all so fleeting and futile, this life. Why do we do anything, really?

Exercise
Grab a page of something you've been working on. We'll keep with the misogynist theme here:

Example: Christian Gray felt his heart swell with love as he watched The Inner Goddess walk up the stairs. Her silver shoes sparkled daintily with each step, her shimming curtain of flaxen hair waving in the wind. He knew that he would never be with her, pathetic sot that he was. He was so broken and hollow, and felt that he would never love again. 

Remove all of the adverbs and adjectives. Remove descriptions of feelings. What are you left with?

Christian Gray watched as the Inner Goddess walked up the stairs. She was with someone else. 

What portions of your piece can you make more active? What descriptive words do you want to add back in?

Christian Gray watched as the Inner Goddess walked up the stairs, bright tangled hair waving behind her. His throat tightened as he played over the fact that she used to call him, and he used to not answer. Instead, he'd simply turn up the volume and let his days and nights dissolve into Skyrim. 

Alternative Exercise:
Adopt a dachshund.