Chekhov loved skewering hypocrites, dolts, bullies, and malingerers. But in this particular story he takes aim at a slightly different demographic: people, as a whole.
In a small town, two friends are taking a walk on a hot day. One looks up to the sky, wondering where a flock of starlings has alit. The men look around and their gaze falls on the local priest’s home. That captures the attention of some passing women, who wonder what they are looking at. This in turn catches someone else’s attention, and so on and so forth, at which point the crowd turns panicky, assuming there must be a fire. The police and fire marshals join in the fuss, and the whole town is in an uproar, although no one really quite knows why. The only thing that calms this savage beast (the crowd) is the sound of music playing in the local tavern, and everyone shuffles away.
So, the story tells us, people are not much different from a flock of starlings.
So there!
I suppose this tale is really just a light read meant to amuse. It was published in mid-1884, when Chekhov was churning out a stream of jokey little entertainments. But the panic of the crowd–and the dopey way they are pacified, like so many cows–strikes me as uncharacteristically sour on Chekhov’s part. In particular, it seems like a takedown of small-town folk.
And I wondered if there might have been something going on in Chekhov’s life in the moment that might have spurred such unusual negativity.
But no, at that point, Chekhov’s life seemed pretty sweet. For one thing, he had a decent amount of money in his wallet, possibly for the first time ever, having finished his medical exams and having begun work as a doctor. (Plus he had just pocketed a decent number of rubles by self-publishing his first collection of short stories, “Tales of Melpomene” earlier that year.) He was living in a leafy monastery town an hour or two outside of Moscow, where the fishing and mushroom hunting was good. He was out from under the roof of his parents. What could be wrong?
Well, he was only 24, still young enough to be prone to snobbery, which is what this story expresses to me: Watch me make fun of the hicks, ma!
I will say that “Minds in Ferment” brings to mind a scene from one of my favorite movies, “Men in Black.” Here’s Agent K, explaining to a new recruit why the agency’s work can’t be revealed to the public:
“A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals–and you know it.”
READ THIS? READ THAT!
I suppose it wouldn’t be kosher to tell you to go watch “Men in Black,” right? If not that, why not have a look at a much better, much more roundedj portrayal of small town life in the wonderful story, “The Privy Councillor.”
A Chekhov Circus 