What kind of man would bargain with a midwife while his wife is in labor? “A Peculiar Man,” per the title of this story.
“A Peculiar Man” is chilling and grim. The man of the title, Kiryakov, a mid- to senior level government bureaucrat, barges into a midwife’s home demanding haste, as his wife is about to give birth. But beforehand, he insists on settling on a price for her services.
The bargaining process is protracted and unpleasant.
The midwife is a self-possessed and apparently kind person – but proud, too. When Kiryakov sets a price of two roubles, she declines, and says, mildly, that she is willing to provide her services for free, if it comes to that, but she is not willing to work for just two roubles.
Ultimately, Kiryakov agrees to a slightly higher price, and the child is delivered. After the birth, he grouses about the costs of clothing and feeding a baby, and sternly lectures his other child, a little boy, about the expense of food.
There is much about this story that is interesting from a historical/sociological perspective: The fact that a midwife would be summoned only at the moment of birth strikes the modern reader as odd indeed. Also, an interesting factoid: Apparently midwives were not allowed to turn down prospective clients.
This story, so brief, packs a pretty big wallop. I suppose the portrait of Kiryakov could be called simplistic or heavy-handed, but I actually think it’s a fairly realistic portrayal of a pompous, entitled (literally, as he is of the “collegiate assessor” rank) skinflint.
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An interesting aspect of this story is its respectful portrayal of a woman in a medically related profession. Chekhov studied obstetrics and gynecology but, at least based on this story, did not seem to view childbirth as solely the province of doctors like himself. It’s not what I would have expected.
According to a brief essay on the website Russia Beyond, professional midwifery programs were established in Moscow and St. Petersburg in the 18th century, and “by the end of the 19th century, midwife was an official position in Russian towns – and professional midwives were formally subordinate to the local police administration.”
In any case, this is one of a fair number of Chekhov stories that focus on working women. There are portraits of teachers (“The Schoolmistress”), factory owners (“A Woman’s Kingdom”), singers (“Mari D’elle“), servants (“Sleepy,” and others), and a homeopathist (“Malingerers.”) That last tale, “Malingerers,” makes for an interesting contrast to this one because of Chekhov’s disdain for homeopathy, as opposed to his respect for the work of the midwife in “A Peculiar Man.”


