Man, Chekhov was really dashing off the stories in the mid-1880s. A lot of them are not much worth reading today, but the quality is pretty surprisingly good for such a tidal wave of writing.
“In An Hotel” (as it is spelled/capitalized in my edition) is one of Chekhov’s many sketches from this period that target hypocrisy, in this case a stuffy lady who is offended by the behavior of a guest staying in the same hotel as her and, crucially, her two marriage-age daughters. The lady, Madam Nashatryin, is introduced to us mid-rant: She is complaining noisily to the hotel clerk. “It’s a sink of iniquity!” she exclaims.
The cause of her fury is in the very next room, Staff Captain Kikin. He is noisy, drunken, litigious and uncouth, and apparently a bully who is quick to punch someone when he feels like it. Not only that, he is way behind in his payments to the hotel.
But then Madam Nashatryin learns that Kikin, though he “talks like a cabman,” is a “gentleman born,” according to the helpless hotel clerk. And he’s not married.
Ah! The lady orders her daughters to spruce up and tells the clerk to send the odious Kikin up to her rooms.
Like so many of the stories from this period, “In An Hotel” is a heavy-handed sketch. It’s skillfully executed, so points for that. However, can we dock Chekhov for what may be the worst, least descriptive, and totally irrelevant title yet? Dreadful! I’m sure the translation doesn’t do it any favors but it’s still a dud.
READ THIS? READ THAT!
Many aspects of Russian society in the 1880s bear eerie similarities to life in modern-day America–a widespread dread of violent strangers, the staggering inequality, mutual distrust between urban and rural people.
But in the matters of courtship and marriage, 19th Century Russia and 21st Century America don’t have a lot in common. One story highlighting the strange customs of the day is “A Blunder.”
A Chekhov Circus 