Chekhov was terrible at writing titles. The worst. And with this story, he really outdid himself.
“Hmmm,” the august short story writer mused. “What am I to call this story? Oh, I know, I’ll call it ‘A Mystery.’ Done and done!”
The plot: Civil Councillor Navagin must unravel a mystery: Who is the unknown “Fedyukov” who has signed his guestbook each year for 13 years???
The discerning reader may have another, related question, as well: Who cares???
For those who wish to read this story, rest assured the mystery is solved.
A trifle, and not a very good one.
READ THIS? READ THAT!
This story hinges on social and religious customs of 19th Century Russia–the signing of a guest book, ritualized visits on Easter Sunday–and the surprise ending depends on an understanding of Russia’s rigid class system, which extended across occupations in the military, government, religious and other fields. In other words, in its day, this tale might have been at least a tad more interesting. I have to assume that part of the surprise of the story is based on the inherent snobbery of Navagin (and the reading public’s snobbery,, too). For another, better (but still not particularly good) tale about a snob, you could try “At a Country House.”
A Chekhov Circus 