The First-Class Passenger (Chekhov)
Short summary
A train journey in Russia, late 19th century. After dining and drinking at a station, a first-class passenger begins a conversation with his vis-à-vis about fame and recognition.
Krikunov laments that despite his impressive accomplishments as an engineer, chemist, and author of scientific treatises, he remains unknown to the public. He recounts several instances where his achievements were overlooked while trivial celebrities received attention. In one case, at the opening of a bridge he designed, the crowd ignored him but became excited about a mediocre actress. In another, his prize-winning work received minimal newspaper coverage while his mistress, the same actress, was extensively featured.
Yes, and side by side with these people I can quote you hundreds of all sorts of singers, acrobats, buffoons, whose names are known to every baby. Yes!
During Krikunov's passionate speech, a notorious cardsharper enters the carriage and is immediately recognized by another passenger, further proving his point about society's misplaced recognition. The vis-à-vis then timidly asks if Krikunov knows the name Pushkov.
When Krikunov admits he doesn't recognize the name, Pushkov reveals it is his own. Despite being a professor for thirty-five years and a member of the Academy of Sciences with published works, he too remains unknown. The two men look at each other and burst into laughter at their shared obscurity.
Detailed summary
Division into chapters is editorial.
Introduction of the first-class passenger and his conversational habits
After dining at a railway station and drinking a bit too much, a first-class passenger stretched out on the velvet-covered seat of his compartment and dozed off briefly. Upon waking, he looked at his vis-à-vis with oily eyes and initiated a conversation, explaining that while his father enjoyed having his heels tickled by peasant women after dinner, he himself preferred to have his tongue and brain stimulated through conversation. The passenger asked if his fellow traveler would indulge him in a chat, to which the vis-à-vis gladly agreed.
Discussion about the meaning of fame and celebrity
The passenger mentioned two young men he had observed near the refreshment bar, one congratulating the other on becoming a celebrity. This observation prompted him to ponder the meaning of fame and celebrity, noting that while Pushkin had called fame a bright patch on a ragged garment, no one had yet provided a clear, logical definition of the word.
I must tell you, sir, that when I was younger I strove after celebrity with every fiber of my being. To be popular was my craze, so to speak. For the sake of it I studied, worked, sat up at night, neglected my meals.
The passenger then detailed his qualifications: he had built numerous bridges across Russia, authored scientific treatises, and made chemical discoveries that appeared in foreign manuals. Despite these achievements and rising to the rank of actual civil councilor with an unblemished record, he remained unknown. To prove his point, he asked his vis-à-vis if he had ever heard the name Krikunov. When the vis-à-vis admitted he had not, the passenger took it as confirmation that he had failed to achieve fame despite his accomplishments.
The bridge opening and the unrecognized engineer
To illustrate his point about the unfairness of fame, the passenger recounted an experience from when he built a bridge in the town of K. During his time there, he had an affair with a singer, whom he described as an ordinary, empty-headed, ill-tempered, and foolish woman who falsely called herself an actress despite having no talent. Her performances consisted mainly of kicking up her legs and appearing in male attire.
At the public ceremony celebrating the opening of his newly constructed bridge, the passenger was filled with excitement and anticipation of recognition. However, the crowd paid no attention to him or who had built the bridge. Instead, they became animated when his singer mistress arrived with her entourage. The crowd whispered about her, calling her charming and bewitching, while the passenger was only noticed as "her lover" by some local amateur actors.
Except the official personages, no one took the slightest notice of me. They stood in a crowd on the riverbank, gazed like sheep at the bridge, and did not concern themselves to know who had built it.
The competition in Petersburg and the medias focus on the actress
The next day, the passenger eagerly checked the local newspaper for mention of himself and his bridge. While the dedication ceremony was described in detail, he received only a passing reference as "an engineer called so-and-so," buried in small type. Meanwhile, the article lavished attention on his "talented actress" mistress, describing her beauty and creating a sensation with her arrival.
Seeking recognition in the intellectual centers, the passenger traveled to Petersburg with his singer mistress to attend the announcement of a competition in which he had entered his work. His entry won first prize, and the next day he bought several newspapers to read about his triumph. However, while his mistress received prominent coverage as "the well-known provincial actress," his achievement was mentioned only briefly in small type, with his name misspelled as "Kirkutlov" instead of Krikunov.
The engineers work in Moscow and the publics fascination with the runner
Some years later, the passenger was invited to Moscow by the mayor to undertake a significant project the city had needed for over a century. During his stay, he also delivered five public lectures for charity. Despite these contributions, not a single Moscow newspaper mentioned him or his work, focusing instead on trivial matters like fires, operettas, and drunken shopkeepers.
To test public awareness, the passenger boarded a tram and loudly asked his fellow passengers if they knew about the engineer brought in for the town project or about the lectures being given at the museum. No one responded. However, when a famous runner named King appeared outside, the entire tram erupted in excitement, with passengers rushing to the windows to catch a glimpse of him.
The cardsharpers recognition and the ironic revelation of identities
The passenger grew increasingly agitated as he continued his tirade about the public's ignorance of genuine talent. He lamented that while Russian navigators, scientists, artists, and literary figures remained unknown, singers, acrobats, and buffoons were celebrated by everyone, even children.
At that moment, a forbidding-looking man in an Inverness coat, top-hat, and blue spectacles entered the carriage, looked around, and continued on. A timid whisper from the corner of the compartment identified him as N. N., the famous Tula cardsharper involved in a bank scandal.
The first-class passenger laughed bitterly at the irony that people recognized a cardsharper but not distinguished cultural figures. After a moment of silence, the vis-à-vis timidly asked if the passenger knew the name Pushkov. When the passenger admitted he did not, the vis-à-vis revealed that was his own name, and that he had been a university professor for thirty-five years and a member of the Academy of Sciences with multiple published works. The two men looked at each other and burst into laughter at their shared obscurity.
"That is my name,…" said the vis-à-vis, overcome with embarrassment. "Then you don't know it? And yet I have been a professor at one of the Russian universities for thirty-five years,… a member of the Academy of Sciences..."