Terror (Chekhov)
Short summary
Rural Russia, late 19th century. The narrator frequently visited his friend Dmitri Petrovitch Silin's farm. Though Dmitri had left his government post to become a farmer, he seemed ill-suited to rural life and constantly exhausted.
The narrator felt uncomfortable with Dmitri's friendship because he was attracted to Dmitri's wife, Marya Sergeyevna. One Sunday, while shopping in a village, Dmitri confessed his existential fears to the narrator. He revealed that his marriage was miserable – Marya had married him despite not loving him, promising only to remain faithful.
That night, after Dmitri went to sleep in the lodge, the narrator and Marya became intimate. When Dmitri unexpectedly appeared and discovered them, he left in distress. The next morning, the narrator departed.
The terror of Dmitri Petrovitch, the thought of whom I could not get out of my head, infected me. I thought of what had happened and could make nothing of it. I looked at the rooks, and it seemed so strange and terrible that they were flying.
The narrator never saw Dmitri or Marya again but heard they continued living together.
Detailed summary
Division into chapters is editorial.
The narrators relationship with Dmitri and attraction to Marya
The narrator frequently visited his friend Dmitri Petrovitch Silin's farm, staying for several days at a time. Though Dmitri had given up his government post in Petersburg at thirty to pursue agriculture, the narrator observed that farming did not seem to be his true calling. After long days of work, Dmitri appeared exhausted, and his wife would put him to bed like a child. The narrator enjoyed Dmitri's company, his property, and his philosophical conversations, though they sometimes seemed spiritless.
Despite their friendship, the narrator felt uncomfortable when Dmitri referred to their relationship as friendship, preferring more commonplace relations. The true source of this discomfort was the narrator's strong attraction to Dmitri's wife, Marya Sergeyevna. Though not in love with her, he was drawn to her face, eyes, voice, and elegant manner. When they were alone together, the narrator became awkward, aware of his complicated position as her husband's friend.
Philosophical conversations in Klushino village
One July Sunday, the narrator and Dmitri drove to the village of Klushino to buy supplies for supper. After purchasing cheese and sausages, they stopped at a tavern for beer. Their coachman went to get the horses shod, and they agreed to wait for him near the church. As they walked through the village, they were followed by a man known as "Forty Martyrs," a former servant who had been dismissed by both men for drunkenness.
As they sat in the church porch waiting, Dmitri began to share his philosophical thoughts. He questioned why terrifying stories draw from the supernatural rather than from life itself, suggesting that life was equally incomprehensible and frightening as the world beyond the grave. Dmitri confessed that he lived in constant fear, not of ghosts or the afterlife, but of the ordinary routine of existence.
I am afraid of everything. I am not by nature a profound thinker, and I take little interest in such questions as the life beyond the grave, the destiny of humanity... What chiefly frightens me is the common routine of life.
Dmitri elaborated on his existential fears, explaining that he felt trapped in a cycle of falsity and self-deception. He didn't understand people or their motivations, and this incomprehension terrified him. He pointed to Forty Martyrs as an example of a human specimen he could not comprehend. To avoid dwelling on these troubling thoughts, Dmitri worked himself to exhaustion.
I recognize that education and the conditions of life have imprisoned me in a narrow circle of falsity, that my whole life is nothing else than a daily effort to deceive myself and other people, and to avoid noticing it.
When the church bell struck ten, Dmitri suggested they return home. Before leaving, he confided that his seemingly happy family life was actually his greatest misery. He revealed that he had courted Marya for two years before she agreed to marry him, though she admitted she did not love him but promised to remain faithful. Despite his continued passionate love for her, Dmitri believed his wife remained indifferent, creating a painful and confusing relationship that tormented him daily.
My home life, which seems to you so enchanting, is my chief misery and my chief terror. I got married in a strange and stupid way... What she said to me was: 'I don't love you, but I will be true to you...'
A night of betrayal
Upon returning home, they had supper together. Dmitri, needing to rise early the next morning for a timber sale, retired to the lodge rather than his bedroom. The narrator and Marya remained awake, following her Petersburg habit of staying up late. She played the piano for him, and their conversation grew increasingly intimate. When she mentioned that he seemed bored without his friend, the narrator confessed that he visited more than once a week, suggesting his visits were not solely for Dmitri's sake.
They went out to the garden, where the narrator felt certain that something significant would happen between them that night. Standing close together on the verandah, Marya spoke angrily but with eyes full of passionate love. For the first time, the narrator noticed her golden eyebrows, which he found exquisite. The thought of embracing her seemed miraculous to him.
Later, the narrator walked in the garden, where he encountered Forty Martyrs sleeping on a bench. Hearing the man's sighs about his bitter life, the narrator felt momentarily uneasy about his own blissful mood but quickly dismissed these feelings. He returned to the house, determined to seize pleasure from life before it crushed him.
Life, as he thinks, is terrible, so don't stand on ceremony with it, bend it to your will, and until it crushes you, snatch all you can wring from it.
Morning revelations and departure
In the narrator's room, Marya confessed she had loved him for over a year. She vowed eternal love, cried, and begged him to take her away. Though experiencing intense pleasure, the narrator felt something incongruous in her serious passion. He wanted nothing serious from their encounter - no tears, vows, or discussions of the future.
In her love for me there was something incongruous and burdensome, just as in Dmitri Petrovitch's friendship. It was a great, serious passion with tears and vows, and I wanted nothing serious in it.
At three o'clock, Marya left the narrator's room. As she was leaving, Dmitri suddenly appeared in the corridor. She stood aside with evident repulsion, and Dmitri entered the room, claiming he had forgotten his cap. With a strange smile and husky voice, he remarked on his fate to understand nothing, then left. From the window, the narrator saw Dmitri harnessing the horses with trembling hands, looking fearful as he drove away.
Shortly afterward, the narrator also departed. Sitting on the carriage box was a drunken Forty Martyrs, muttering nonsense. The narrator was troubled by thoughts of Dmitri and the events of the night, questioning why things had happened as they did. He never saw Dmitri or Marya again, though he heard they continued to live together.