Personal Recollections of Anton Pavlovitch Chekhov

I BELIEVE that every man when in the presence of Anton Pavlovitch felt the desire of being simpler, truer, more like his natural self, and I observed many times how people threw off the gaudy attire of bookish phrases and all the other cheap finery of high-sounding, bombastic words in which our Russian loves to adorn himself, like the savage in his fish-teeth and shells and feathers, in the foolish desire of aping the Europeans. Anton Pavlovitch heartily disliked fish-teeth and cocks’ feathers. In fact, everything striking, gaudy and foreign donned by some one to “give himself additional importance” irritated and threw him into confusion. And I have noticed that every time he met an overdressed, bombastic person he felt inclined to free him from his burdensome and unnecessary tinsel trappings, which distorted the natural face and living soul of his interlocutor. All his life Anton Pavlovitch lived on the wealth of his soul; he was always his natural self and kept himself internally free, not taking into consideration what others may have expected of him or others of less delicacy demanded for a moment. He disliked conversations on “high” themes—the sort of conversations with which our dear Russian generally loves to amuse himself, forgetting that it is ridiculous to speak of costly clothing which we are to have in the future when at present we are lacking even a decent pair of trousers.