Enemies (Chekhov)
Short summary
A dark September evening in Russia. Dr. Kirilov's six-year-old son had just died of diphtheria when the doorbell rang.
A man named Abogin arrived, desperately begging the doctor to come treat his wife who had fallen gravely ill, possibly from aneurism. Kirilov initially refused, explaining his son had just died, but Abogin's desperate pleas eventually persuaded him.
After a long carriage ride, they arrived at Abogin's luxurious home. When Abogin went to check on his wife, he discovered she had not been ill at all but had used the medical emergency as a ruse to run away with her lover, Paptchinsky. Abogin returned to the doctor, devastated by his wife's betrayal.
The two men, both suffering from different sorrows, began hurling insults at each other. Their mutual pain led to a bitter confrontation rather than understanding.
"The unhappy are egoistic, spiteful, unjust, cruel, and less capable of understanding each other than fools. Unhappiness does not bring people together but draws them apart, and even where one would fancy people should be united..."
Kirilov returned home with contempt for Abogin and his wealthy lifestyle. This unjust conviction about Abogin and his social class would remain with the doctor for the rest of his life.
Detailed summary
Division into chapters is editorial.
A doctors grief interrupted by an urgent call
On a dark September evening, the six-year-old son of district doctor Kirilov died of diphtheria. As his wife knelt by their dead child's bedside, overcome with despair, the doorbell rang sharply. All the servants had been sent away because of the infection, so Kirilov himself went to answer the door, disheveled and with his face still wet with tears.
In the dark entryway stood a man with a pale face and white scarf who urgently asked for the doctor. When Kirilov identified himself, the visitor expressed relief at finding him home. The man introduced himself as Abogin, saying they had previously met at Gnutchev's in the summer. He desperately begged the doctor to come with him immediately, as his wife had fallen dangerously ill.
Between nine and ten on a dark September evening the only son of the district doctor, Kirilov, a child of six, called Andrey, died of diphtheria. Just as the doctor's wife sank on her knees by the dead child's bedside...
Abogin spoke rapidly in a shaking voice, explaining that his wife had suddenly clutched her heart and collapsed during tea with a visitor named Paptchinsky. He feared it might be aneurism, as her father had died from the same condition. Kirilov listened without responding, as if he didn't understand. When Abogin reached for his hand again, the doctor finally spoke, dragging out each word: "Excuse me, I cannot come... my son died... five minutes ago!"
A reluctant journey through the night
Abogin was shocked by the terrible timing of his arrival. He hesitated at the door, torn between leaving and continuing to plead with the doctor. Desperately, he begged Kirilov to reconsider, explaining there was no other doctor in the area and emphasizing that he wasn't asking for himself but for his dying wife. Kirilov turned away, moving mechanically through his house like a man in a daze, seemingly unaware of the visitor's presence.
The doctor wandered into the bedroom where a profound silence reigned. His son lay on the bed with open eyes that seemed to grow darker, while his wife knelt beside him, her head buried in the bedclothes, completely still in her grief. The doctor stood by his wife with his hands in his pockets, his face showing indifference though the drops on his beard revealed he had been crying. In this scene of sorrow, there was a subtle beauty that transcended the horror of death.
That repellent horror which is thought of when we speak of death was absent from the room. In the numbness of everything, in the mother's attitude, in the indifference on the doctor's face there was something that attracted and touched the heart...
When Kirilov returned to the passage, he found Abogin still waiting. Despite his initial refusal, the doctor was eventually persuaded by Abogin's sincere desperation. With reluctance, he agreed to go, quickly changing into his long frock-coat. They departed together in Abogin's carriage, with instructions to the coachman to drive as fast as possible.
Discovery of deception at Abogins house
The carriage journey took them through darkness, past shadowy trees and a pond reflecting sullen light. Both men remained silent for most of the ride. Once, when crossing a river, Kirilov suddenly asked to be released from the journey so he could send his assistant to his wife, but Abogin did not respond, and they continued on. The landscape around them seemed to mirror their inner states - hopeless and filled with pain.
In all nature there seemed to be a feeling of hopelessness and pain. The earth, like a ruined woman sitting alone in a dark room and trying not to think of the past, was brooding over memories of spring and summer...
Upon arriving at Abogin's elegant house, they found it strangely quiet despite the lighted windows. Abogin grew increasingly anxious as they entered, noting the absence of any commotion that would suggest a medical emergency. The doctor observed the luxurious interior as Abogin left him in a snug drawing room to check on his wife and prepare her for the doctor's visit.
After waiting five minutes, Kirilov looked up to see Abogin returning - but his appearance had transformed dramatically. His face was contorted with horror and agonizing pain. In a voice trembling with emotion, Abogin cried out that his wife had deceived him. She had feigned illness only to run away with Paptchinsky, the man who had been visiting them for tea. Abogin was devastated, shaking his fists and pacing the room in disbelief at this betrayal.
"She has deceived me," he cried, with a strong emphasis on the second syllable of the verb. "Deceived me, gone away. She fell ill and sent me for the doctor only to run away with that clown Paptchinsky! My God!"
Bitter confrontation between two unhappy men
As Abogin continued lamenting his betrayal, Dr. Kirilov's face gradually transformed from indifference to bitter resentment. The doctor suddenly erupted in anger, demanding to know why he had been brought to witness this "vulgar farce." He reminded Abogin that his child was dead, his wife was alone in her grief, and he himself had not slept for three nights. To be dragged away from his profound sorrow only to become an unwilling participant in a domestic drama filled him with indignation.
"My child is dead, my wife is in grief alone in the whole house.... I myself can scarcely stand up, I have not slept for three nights.... And here I am forced to play a part in some vulgar farce, to play the part of a stage property!"
Abogin defended himself, insisting that he too was suffering intensely. When he appealed to the doctor's humanity, Kirilov responded bitterly that humanity "cuts both ways" - in the name of humanity, he should have been left alone with his grief. The confrontation escalated as both men, blinded by their personal pain, hurled increasingly harsh and unjust accusations at each other.
"Humanity—that cuts both ways," Kirilov said irritably. "In the name of humanity I beg you not to take me. And how queer it is, really! I can hardly stand and you talk to me about humanity! I am fit for nothing just now..."
The doctor condemned Abogin as a pampered, wealthy man who treated working people as menials, while Abogin protested that such accusations were ungenerous given his genuine distress. When Abogin attempted to pay the doctor for his visit, Kirilov furiously swept the money from the table, declaring that an insult could not be paid for in money. Their exchange revealed how suffering had made them both egotistical and cruel, incapable of understanding each other's pain.
Abogin eventually rang for his footman and ordered his carriage to be prepared for the doctor's return journey. In his anger, he also declared that he would dismiss all his servants by the next day. The two men waited in hostile silence for the carriage to arrive.
The lingering poison of resentment
As the doctor departed in the victoria provided by Abogin, he maintained his look of contempt. The night had grown darker, with the red half-moon sinking behind the hill. Shortly after, he saw Abogin's carriage with red lamps driving along the road - Abogin heading off to protest and "do absurd things" in response to his wife's betrayal.
Throughout the journey home, the doctor thought not of his wife or dead son, but of Abogin and the people in his household. His thoughts were unjust and cruelly judgmental of these wealthy people who lived among sweet perfumes in rosy, subdued light. A firm conviction about such people took shape in his mind - a conviction that, though unworthy of the human heart, would remain with him until his death.
"Time will pass and Kirilov's sorrow will pass, but that conviction, unjust and unworthy of the human heart, will not pass, but will remain in the doctor's mind to the grave."