Chekhov specialized in skewering hypocrisy, pretention and cant. Sometimes, though, the target seems so broad that it doesn’t exactly take a marksman to hit it.
“The Princess” is a kind of morality tale — the story of a princess whose good works are merely egotism and who falsely imagines herself as a blessing, a ray of light for others to enjoy.
One day, a stranger—a doctor indirectly employed by her– explains to the princess in withering detail the ways she, in actuality, mistreats the ones she imagines helping.
And that’s that: The doctor later recants for reasons that are not explained, presumably for fear of losing his job. And the princess, after one unquiet night of self examination, reverts to blissful unawareness in the morning.
And that’s the story. Meh.
READ THIS? READ THAT!
For another story of a woman who thinks herself rather fine, you might try “Mari D’elle,” a broad satire of a famous opera singer whose husband cloddishly attempts to use her fame to raise money for dopey business schemes.
A Chekhov Circus 