The Bishop (Chekhov)
Short summary
Russia, early 20th century. On the eve of Palm Sunday, Bishop Pyotr conducted a service at the Old Petrovsky Convent. Feeling unwell, he thought he saw his mother in the crowd, whom he hadn't seen for nine years.
The next day, he discovered his mother had indeed arrived with his niece Katya. During their visit, he noticed his mother seemed uncomfortable around him, treating him more as a bishop than as her son. This saddened him, as did his growing illness and the tedium of his administrative duties.
As Holy Week progressed, Bishop Pyotr's health deteriorated. He struggled with fever and exhaustion while performing his duties. He confided in Father Sisoy that he felt he should have been a simple village priest rather than a bishop, as his position oppressed him.
By Thursday, the bishop was diagnosed with typhoid. As he lay dying, his thoughts drifted to freedom from his burdensome position.
He imagined he was a simple ordinary man, walking quickly, cheerfully through the fields, tapping with his stick, while above him was the open sky bathed in sunshine, and that he was free now as a bird.
Bishop Pyotr died on Easter Saturday. A month later, a new bishop was appointed, and Pyotr was completely forgotten, remembered only by his elderly mother.
Detailed summary by sections
Section titles are editorial.
Section 1. Palm Sunday: The bishop experiences strange visions
On the eve of Palm Sunday, Bishop Pyotr was celebrating the evening service at the Old Petrovsky Convent. Having been unwell for three days, he found the service particularly taxing. The church was dim and misty, with the crowd appearing endless. As he distributed palm branches, all faces seemed alike to him in the twilight.
During the service, Bishop Pyotr suddenly had a vision of his mother, whom he had not seen for nine years, approaching him. She took a palm branch and walked away with a kind smile. This vision moved him to tears, and soon the entire church was filled with soft weeping. After the service ended, the bishop rode home through the moonlit garden, past white walls and crosses, feeling a strange peace.
And for some reason tears flowed down his face. There was peace in his heart, everything was well, yet he kept gazing fixedly towards the left choir, where the prayers were being read, and wept.
Upon arriving at the Pankratievsky Monastery where he lived, the bishop was informed by a lay brother that his mother had indeed arrived and would visit him the next day. She had brought her granddaughter and was staying at Ovsyannikov's inn. The bishop was overjoyed at this news but disappointed that it was too late to see her that night.
Section 2. The bishop reunites with his mother and recalls his childhood
The next day, Palm Sunday, Bishop Pyotr conducted the service in the cathedral, visited the diocesan bishop, and called on a sick elderly widow. Between one and two o'clock, he welcomed his mother and his niece Katya for dinner. Sunlight streamed through the windows as they ate, with the sounds of birds coming from the garden.
His mother remarked that it had been nine years since they had last met, and she had cried during yesterday's service upon seeing him. She spoke of his sister Varenka, who now had four children and was left in poverty after her husband Father Ivan's death. The bishop noticed his mother seemed constrained and formal with him, unsure whether to address him familiarly or formally.
His mood suddenly changed. He looked at his mother and could not understand how she had come by that respectfulness, that timid expression of face: what was it for? And he did not recognize her.
After dinner, two wealthy landowner ladies visited, sitting in silence with rigid expressions. Later, the archimandrite came to discuss business. By evening, the bishop felt unwell, with a headache and fatigue. He went to bed early, but could hear his mother chatting freely with Father Sisoy in the next room, which saddened him further.
Section 3. The bishop reflects on his duties and the triviality of church matters
The diocesan bishop had been bedridden for over a month with rheumatism or gout. Bishop Pyotr visited him almost daily and handled the petitioners who came seeking help. He grew increasingly frustrated with the triviality of their requests and the ignorance they displayed.
The administrative burden was overwhelming, with tens of thousands of documents to process. Bishop Pyotr felt he had lost touch with Russian life during his time abroad. The only peace he found was in church. He was troubled by the excessive reverence people showed him, as everyone seemed timid and guilty in his presence.
"I ought not to be a bishop," said the bishop softly. "I ought to have been a village priest, a deacon... or simply a monk... All this oppresses me... oppresses me."
Section 4. The bishop falls ill and dies during Easter
On Tuesday, after receiving petitioners at the diocesan bishop's house, Bishop Pyotr returned home agitated and unwell. Despite his condition, he had to receive a merchant named Erakin who had come about an important matter. Later, a Mother Superior from a distant convent visited, and then he had to attend vespers.
During the service, despite his physical discomfort, the bishop felt a sense of peace and confidence. As he read the first gospel, he thought about how the people around him seemed the same as those from his childhood and youth. He reflected on his family's long tradition of service to the Church and felt vigorous and happy in the familiar ritual.
He had faith and yet everything was not clear, something was lacking still. He did not want to die; and he still felt that he had missed what was most important, something of which he had dimly dreamed.
By the eighth gospel, however, his voice had weakened, his head ached intensely, and his legs were numb. When he returned home, he went straight to bed without saying his prayers. Father Sisoy came to rub him with spirit and vinegar, mentioning that he planned to leave the monastery the next day. The bishop confided that he felt he should have been a simple priest or monk rather than a bishop.
On Thursday morning, the bishop began hemorrhaging. The monastery doctor examined him and diagnosed typhoid fever. The bishop grew rapidly thinner and weaker, feeling that everything that had been important was now retreating far away.
And it seemed to him that he was thinner, weaker, more insignificant than anyone, that everything that had been had retreated far, far away and would never go on again or be repeated.
His mother came to his bedside and was frightened by his appearance. She forgot he was a bishop and kissed him as if he were her child. The bishop imagined himself as an ordinary man walking freely through fields under an open sky.
And to her, too, it seemed that he was thinner, weaker, and more insignificant than anyone, and now she forgot that he was a bishop, and kissed him as though he were a child very near and very dear to her.
Three doctors came to consult but could do nothing. Early on Saturday morning, the bishop died. The next day was Easter Sunday, filled with joyful church bells and celebrations throughout the town. A month later, a new suffragan bishop was appointed, and Bishop Pyotr was completely forgotten.
Only his elderly mother, now living with her son-in-law in a remote town, occasionally mentioned to other women that she once had a son who was a bishop, though she spoke timidly, afraid they might not believe her.