Agafya (Chekhov)
Short summary
Russian countryside, late 19th century. A narrator often visited Savka, a watchman at kitchen gardens, to fish and enjoy peaceful summer nights. During one May evening, they fished, talked about birds, and relaxed by Savka's shanty.
Savka mentioned that a woman named Agafya, a railway signalman's wife, would visit him that evening. When she arrived, they shared vodka and food. The narrator walked away to give them privacy.
Later, the narrator returned to remind Agafya that her husband's train had arrived. She was torn between leaving and staying with Savka.
Agafya turned round and got up on one knee... For half a minute her whole figure expressed conflict and hesitation... but then some invincible and implacable force seemed to push her whole body, and she sank down beside Savka again.
The narrator fell asleep by the river. At dawn, he saw Agafya crossing the river to return home. In the distance, her husband stood motionless, waiting for her. Savka watched her with pity, remarking that she would be punished and he would be brought before the peasant court. Agafya walked fearfully toward her husband, her fate sealed by her night of passion.
Detailed summary
Division into chapters is editorial.
Savka the watchman and his character
In the district of S—, the narrator often visited Savva Stukatch, known as Savka, who worked as a watchman in the kitchen gardens of Dubovo. The narrator enjoyed these visits not just for the fishing, but for the peaceful strolls, unscheduled meals, conversations with Savka, and the tranquility of summer nights.
Savka was a twenty-five-year-old man, handsome and physically strong, but completely uninterested in work. Though he had his own hut and land in the village, he neither tilled nor sowed it. His elderly mother begged for alms while he lived carelessly. Despite having the capability for labor, Savka preferred contemplation and immobility, only moving for brief, impulsive actions.
His whole figure suggested unruffled serenity, an innate, almost artistic passion for living carelessly, never with his sleeves tucked up. When Savka's young, healthy body had a physical craving for muscular work...
Due to his laziness, Savka was extremely poor. Eventually, the village commune assigned him the role of watchman and scarecrow in the kitchen gardens, a position that perfectly suited his preference for motionless contemplation.
A summer evening at the kitchen gardens
One fine May evening, the narrator was lying on a torn sackcloth cover near Savka's shanty, which emitted a fragrant scent of hay. At his feet lay a wooden fork, and beyond it stood Savka's dog Kutka. The steep bank of a small river was visible nearby, with young willows growing on the nearer bank and the village where Savka lived visible on a distant hillside.
The sunset was fading, with only a pale crimson streak remaining in the sky. A copse with alder trees lay to the right of the kitchen gardens, while an immense plain stretched to the left. Their fishing hooks were already in the river, so they had nothing to do but rest and converse.
The narrator asked Savka why there were no nightingales singing that night. Savka turned toward the copse, pulled out a whistle, and imitated a hen-nightingale's call. A landrail responded from the opposite bank, which amused Savka. The narrator then shared information about landrails and bird migration, which Savka listened to with great interest.
During their conversation, Savka mentioned that he had invited a woman to visit that evening. When the narrator offered to leave to give them privacy, Savka revealed that the expected visitor was Agafya, a signalman's wife from the village. The narrator warned Savka that his affairs with women could lead to trouble, but Savka seemed unconcerned.
Agafyas arrival and Savkas attitude toward women
As darkness fell, Kutka growled, alerting them to someone approaching. Soon, Agafya appeared from the copse, walking timidly toward them. She was surprised to see the narrator there alongside Savka. Pretending she had come on an errand from her husband Yakov, she handed Savka a bundle containing food.
Savka laughed at her excuse, knowing the real reason for her visit. He invited her to join them for supper and offered her vodka, which she hesitantly accepted. The atmosphere grew warmer as they ate the food she had brought – pie and potatoes.
When a nightingale began to sing in the woods, Savka went off to try to catch it with his bare hands, leaving the narrator alone with Agafya. She nervously asked him not to tell anyone about her visit. The narrator reminded her of the risk she was taking, but she insisted that she would return home before her husband arrived from his work on the railway line.
With all his softheartedness and good-nature, Savka despised women. He behaved carelessly, condescendingly with them, and even stooped to scornful laughter of their feelings for himself.
Despite his contemptuous attitude toward women, Savka was irresistibly attractive to the village women. His handsome appearance, combined with his status as an acknowledged failure and his exile to the kitchen gardens, seemed to enhance his appeal. When he returned from his unsuccessful nightingale hunt, he sat down beside Agafya and casually put his arms around her waist.
The narrators solitary walk by the river
Feeling like an intruder, the narrator decided to take a walk. He strolled through the kitchen garden to the river where their fishing lines were set. The river was peaceful in the darkness, and when he checked one of the lines, he found nothing had been caught.
Finding a hollow place on the bank, the narrator sat down and remained there for a long time. He watched the stars grow misty and felt the cool night breeze pass over the earth. In the distance, he heard a man's voice calling for Agafya – it was her husband who had returned home and was searching for her in the village.
At the same time, the sound of unrestrained laughter came from where he had left Savka and Agafya. The woman, in her intoxication with the moment, seemed determined to enjoy a few hours of happiness despite the misery that awaited her. Eventually, the narrator fell asleep by the river.
The missed train and Agafyas fateful decision
Earlier in the evening, Agafya had grown anxious about the time, knowing she needed to return home before her husband. She mentioned that she could hear when the train would arrive, bringing her husband back from his work on the railway line. As time passed, she became increasingly restless.
The poor woman was not mistaken. Before a quarter of an hour had passed a sound was heard in the distance... the train crossed the bridge with a hollow rumble... another minute and all was still.
Despite hearing the train, Agafya remained with Savka, captivated by his presence and the warmth of the night. When the narrator suggested she should leave, she acknowledged it but stayed nonetheless. Overcome by her feelings, she made the fateful decision to remain with Savka rather than return home promptly.
Agafya, intoxicated by the vodka, by Savka's scornful caresses, and by the stifling warmth of the night, was lying on the earth beside him, pressing her face convulsively to his knees.
Morning reveals the consequences of the night
When the narrator woke up the next morning, Savka was sitting beside him, gently shaking his shoulder. The morning light illuminated the river, the copse, and the fields. When the narrator asked if Agafya had gone, Savka pointed toward the ford.
There, Agafya was crossing the river, holding up her skirt, her legs barely moving. Savka remarked that she was now afraid, comparing women to cats for their slyness and to hares for their timidity. He predicted that she would be punished, and that he would be flogged again at the peasant court because of the women.
As Agafya walked across the fields toward the village, her fear became increasingly evident. She moved hesitantly, frequently looking back. In the distance, near the furthest hut, her husband Yakov stood motionless in the road, watching her approach.
Agafya seemed to be shrivelled up by her husband's eyes. At one time she moved in zigzags, then she moved her feet up and down without going forward, bending her knees and stretching out her hands...
The narrator looked at Savka's face and saw it was pale and puckered with a look of fastidious pity. Savka muttered that what was fun for the cat was tears for the mouse. After sitting down briefly, Agafya suddenly jumped up, shook her head, and with newfound courage walked boldly toward her waiting husband, having evidently made up her mind to face the consequences of her night away.