The main character is so non-judgemental, manifests no bitterness – such graceful acceptance of both the horror she's undergoing and the inevitable eclipse that has to follow. The cats, the 'wild-haired, exotic daughters', the vivid dreams (especially of the Riley boys, circa 1955), all of it vignettes but so central to the story, the story itself kind of ethereal or, as Mary put it so well, "Because they refer to traveling 'somewhere' in a strangely outfitted conveyance, for example a body. Or a self. All alone".
'She needed a haircut more than a mammogram' -- maybe the slightest tinge of regret, of 'why me', in Cheri -– sums up the human condition in general, how things creep up on us unawares and how, mostly if not always, we are invariably too late.
The bit about resting one leg on the floor (nicely juxtaposed to a hangover and to more 'chaste' times), such a banal act but in the context of this story acquiring the significance of a grounding ritual. Finally, the brevity of it is slightly disappointing! As though the door opened a bit, creating a lozenge of light and then quickly shut again.
In Gusev, the contrast of everyday life (recounted so realistically, the granular details in the sick bay and on the deck) and the indifference of the universe (both sea and steamer making no distinction whatsoever of "saints and sinners") is striking. The final scene indeed seems some kind of ascent to heaven, maybe consistent with what the narrator says earlier in the story: "Overhead deep sky, bright stars, peace and stillness,exactly as at home in the village, below darkness and disorder".
Thanks for these touching and powerful stories. I went and bought the Beard book to finish reading Cheri. Some thoughts (these are at a high school level rather than a grad seminar level, as I studied in the sciences):
The effect of time, or maybe 'historical period' is better. We could save Gusev, now (isoniazid and rifampin); perhaps in 100 years we will be able to save Cheri. (Whether the Russian army would have bothered to save Gusev is another question, though presumably they treat TB in their soldiers now.)
Similarly, the racist attitudes Chekhov is trying to satirize would make Gusev a villain rather than a flawed protagonist as he was in Chekhov's era. One wonders what they will make of Cheri in 100 years! I don't see anything negative, but who knows what values people will have in 2120. (She might be judged harshly for all that driving, for instance, once the polar ice caps have melted.)
The different ways gender and social position affect their common journey to the thing that awaits us all (to paraphrase Laird Barron). Gusev's stuck in the military, so he wastes away in a hospital bed, but Cheri gets to say goodbye to everyone and surrounded by her friends. She has more emotional support than Gusev, who's stuck shuffling off this mortal coil next to someone he doesn't even *like*. Even chooses her time of passing, to some degree...
...but not completely, which points up the role of the surrounding society in determining end-of-life. Cheri is constantly aware of her declining supply of oxygen--a little more money and she could have a lot less stress in those final days. Not to mention the whole rigmarole of having to hide what they're doing from most of society. Gusev, of course, is a miserable unit of the Russian military who is no longer useful and can be discarded.
The metaphors of passing into another world in both cases. Gusev metaphorically passes into heaven, Cheri slips through the ice. You could argue that reflects the declining religiosity between one era and the next (Gusev is Russia and Cheri American, but Russia is actually less religious than us now)... nobody (who writes these sort of stories, anyway) really thinks you're going to a better place when you die anymore. Few expect the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveler returns to have any dreams that may come, good or bad.
Thank you for these meaningful observations of “Gusev.” Chekhov’s character descriptions often seem on the edge of some kind of metamorphosis (Anyuta or Ward No. 6). Your summary caught what Chekhov does so well:
"His corpse is thrown into the sea like the object it is, but Chekhov refers to him by name until the point of view switches to that of the fishes, emphasizing his transformation from a human with a social identity to matter that may be eaten; in between, the author gives his character serendipitous dignity, wrapping him in sea foam that looks for a second like lace. Gusev, dispersed in natural beauty, has become beautiful too."
Loved Gusev, will read Cheri when I can get a copy of the whole thing. Chekhov himself died of consumption in his 40's and also endured a long voyage home from the Russian far east after difficult service on a prison island . He was also a medical doctor. His description of death feels real and Gusev's mental journey is vivid yet unadorned by a frisson of mysticism like you might experience in a Herzog movie. But a movie-like it is- very cinematic all the way though, especially at the end you so love, Mary G! I thought the translation missed the light toss-off of ironic Russian humor in a few places. The seamless segue into G's death was beautifully non-melodramatic. Chekhov's dramas, written toward the end of his life, were brilliant, true-to life subversions of dramatic expectations. Thanks Mary!
Thanks so much for the intro to Ms Beard, the Iowa piece is brilliant, Cheri also. Great look at the comparison w/Chekhov. So glad I subscribed to your whatever-this-is, have always been amazed by your stories.
Sep 3, 2022·edited Sep 3, 2022Liked by Mary Gaitskill
Terrific essay, especially about the lit. mag. where Jo Ann Beard's "Cheri Tremble" essay/story appeared. I gave you, Mary, a callout here: https://marytabor.substack.com/p/literary-magazines-why-bother-lagniappe and hope you will take a look and let me know what you think. Long time reader of your work and true fan here. xo Mary Tabor
Sep 2, 2022·edited Sep 2, 2022Liked by Mary Gaitskill
thanks so much for these two brilliant stories. i. am a big chekhov fan more the plays but also love his stories. also his life and his letters. never read this one though. i appreciate the way you set it up but glad i read story before second part of its article. such a wacky mix of life and dreams and death both within and outside his head. and thet ending! i am still reeling from the second one. unbearable pain and loss amidst the daily grind and half life. and the overlap of slow and lightning death.
I will never forget the second one. thanks again. john sweeney
"I’ve never read a more fully realized end to a story. It makes room for everything." That is pretty powerful in itself. Have never read Gusev or even much by Chekov. This is motivation to do so. Thanks, Mary!
'Cheri' is so unsentimental yet so moving.
The main character is so non-judgemental, manifests no bitterness – such graceful acceptance of both the horror she's undergoing and the inevitable eclipse that has to follow. The cats, the 'wild-haired, exotic daughters', the vivid dreams (especially of the Riley boys, circa 1955), all of it vignettes but so central to the story, the story itself kind of ethereal or, as Mary put it so well, "Because they refer to traveling 'somewhere' in a strangely outfitted conveyance, for example a body. Or a self. All alone".
'She needed a haircut more than a mammogram' -- maybe the slightest tinge of regret, of 'why me', in Cheri -– sums up the human condition in general, how things creep up on us unawares and how, mostly if not always, we are invariably too late.
The bit about resting one leg on the floor (nicely juxtaposed to a hangover and to more 'chaste' times), such a banal act but in the context of this story acquiring the significance of a grounding ritual. Finally, the brevity of it is slightly disappointing! As though the door opened a bit, creating a lozenge of light and then quickly shut again.
In Gusev, the contrast of everyday life (recounted so realistically, the granular details in the sick bay and on the deck) and the indifference of the universe (both sea and steamer making no distinction whatsoever of "saints and sinners") is striking. The final scene indeed seems some kind of ascent to heaven, maybe consistent with what the narrator says earlier in the story: "Overhead deep sky, bright stars, peace and stillness,exactly as at home in the village, below darkness and disorder".
Both are stories to cheri-sh.
Thanks for these touching and powerful stories. I went and bought the Beard book to finish reading Cheri. Some thoughts (these are at a high school level rather than a grad seminar level, as I studied in the sciences):
The effect of time, or maybe 'historical period' is better. We could save Gusev, now (isoniazid and rifampin); perhaps in 100 years we will be able to save Cheri. (Whether the Russian army would have bothered to save Gusev is another question, though presumably they treat TB in their soldiers now.)
Similarly, the racist attitudes Chekhov is trying to satirize would make Gusev a villain rather than a flawed protagonist as he was in Chekhov's era. One wonders what they will make of Cheri in 100 years! I don't see anything negative, but who knows what values people will have in 2120. (She might be judged harshly for all that driving, for instance, once the polar ice caps have melted.)
The different ways gender and social position affect their common journey to the thing that awaits us all (to paraphrase Laird Barron). Gusev's stuck in the military, so he wastes away in a hospital bed, but Cheri gets to say goodbye to everyone and surrounded by her friends. She has more emotional support than Gusev, who's stuck shuffling off this mortal coil next to someone he doesn't even *like*. Even chooses her time of passing, to some degree...
...but not completely, which points up the role of the surrounding society in determining end-of-life. Cheri is constantly aware of her declining supply of oxygen--a little more money and she could have a lot less stress in those final days. Not to mention the whole rigmarole of having to hide what they're doing from most of society. Gusev, of course, is a miserable unit of the Russian military who is no longer useful and can be discarded.
The metaphors of passing into another world in both cases. Gusev metaphorically passes into heaven, Cheri slips through the ice. You could argue that reflects the declining religiosity between one era and the next (Gusev is Russia and Cheri American, but Russia is actually less religious than us now)... nobody (who writes these sort of stories, anyway) really thinks you're going to a better place when you die anymore. Few expect the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveler returns to have any dreams that may come, good or bad.
Thank you for these meaningful observations of “Gusev.” Chekhov’s character descriptions often seem on the edge of some kind of metamorphosis (Anyuta or Ward No. 6). Your summary caught what Chekhov does so well:
"His corpse is thrown into the sea like the object it is, but Chekhov refers to him by name until the point of view switches to that of the fishes, emphasizing his transformation from a human with a social identity to matter that may be eaten; in between, the author gives his character serendipitous dignity, wrapping him in sea foam that looks for a second like lace. Gusev, dispersed in natural beauty, has become beautiful too."
thanks Mary. Lovely to read JoAnn next to Chekov! reading your analyses is like being in a really great comp lit class at berkeley 50 years ago.
Loved Gusev, will read Cheri when I can get a copy of the whole thing. Chekhov himself died of consumption in his 40's and also endured a long voyage home from the Russian far east after difficult service on a prison island . He was also a medical doctor. His description of death feels real and Gusev's mental journey is vivid yet unadorned by a frisson of mysticism like you might experience in a Herzog movie. But a movie-like it is- very cinematic all the way though, especially at the end you so love, Mary G! I thought the translation missed the light toss-off of ironic Russian humor in a few places. The seamless segue into G's death was beautifully non-melodramatic. Chekhov's dramas, written toward the end of his life, were brilliant, true-to life subversions of dramatic expectations. Thanks Mary!
Thanks so much for the intro to Ms Beard, the Iowa piece is brilliant, Cheri also. Great look at the comparison w/Chekhov. So glad I subscribed to your whatever-this-is, have always been amazed by your stories.
Thank you--I love the connections you make here, and I haven't thought about East River Pipe and that song in a while. I love it.
Terrific essay, especially about the lit. mag. where Jo Ann Beard's "Cheri Tremble" essay/story appeared. I gave you, Mary, a callout here: https://marytabor.substack.com/p/literary-magazines-why-bother-lagniappe and hope you will take a look and let me know what you think. Long time reader of your work and true fan here. xo Mary Tabor
thanks so much for these two brilliant stories. i. am a big chekhov fan more the plays but also love his stories. also his life and his letters. never read this one though. i appreciate the way you set it up but glad i read story before second part of its article. such a wacky mix of life and dreams and death both within and outside his head. and thet ending! i am still reeling from the second one. unbearable pain and loss amidst the daily grind and half life. and the overlap of slow and lightning death.
I will never forget the second one. thanks again. john sweeney
Great great great great great great great.
I said this aloud on reading the last line. Beautiful piece! Thank you.
Amazing reviews, full of wonder and yet an edge...sunlight fractured over iron gunnels.
hi Mary, Ive never read any of your work but these 2 story recommends, but just started your audiobook of Bad Behavior.
"I’ve never read a more fully realized end to a story. It makes room for everything." That is pretty powerful in itself. Have never read Gusev or even much by Chekov. This is motivation to do so. Thanks, Mary!