He saw a winter bleak and bereft of hope." Words that inspired me so long ago to want to read Chekhov. I started reading Chekhov a couple nights ago, to acquaint myself with him before the play, his style and voice have gotten in to me. (As with everything I read.) Short stories, works that are perhaps his earliest. The metaphors are clear and easily read, his voice some how loud and boisterous yet cynical. Ended or periodically punctuated by a profound comment. I read a couple of them to Jeff last night. I think that added to the experience for me, enabled the story to penetrate deeper because I was actually more attentive to the words, to read the emotion or intention in each sentence. He is a critic of human nature and so far the stories have been about a single man judged by others whose own character flaws are being exposed in the process but they do not recognize their own sins, only the one mans. Quite a big painting can be made in a few pages of words.
I liked being read to as a child. I find I like doing it myself, now.
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