The Grasshopper (Chekhov)
Short summary
Russia, late 19th century. Olga Ivanovna married Osip Dymov, a doctor, though she considered herself part of the artistic elite while he was ordinary. She hosted weekly gatherings for artists, musicians, and writers, while Dymov worked tirelessly at two hospitals.
During a summer art expedition along the Volga, Olga began an affair with the painter Ryabovsky. She became obsessed with him, neglecting her husband and home. When Ryabovsky grew tired of her, she returned to Dymov but continued seeing the artist secretly.
Eventually, Ryabovsky rejected her completely. Meanwhile, Dymov contracted diphtheria from a patient he was treating. As he lay dying, Olga realized too late the true worth of her husband compared to her shallow artistic friends.
Dymov's colleague Korostelev lamented his death, praising his character:
"And his moral force," he went on, "Not a man, but a pure, good, loving soul, and clean as crystal. He served science and died for science. And he worked like an ox night and day—no one spared him..."
As Olga finally understood her husband's greatness and her own shallowness, she tried to speak to him, but it was too late. Dymov had already died.
Detailed summary by chapters
Chapter titles are editorial.
Chapter 1. Olga Ivanovnas marriage to Dymov
All of Olga Ivanovna's friends and acquaintances attended her wedding to Osip Stepanitch Dymov. Throughout the celebration, she explained to her friends why she was marrying such an ordinary man, suggesting there was something special about him that others might not immediately see.
Dymov was a doctor who worked at two hospitals, serving as a ward-surgeon in one and a dissecting demonstrator in the other. His private practice earned him only about five hundred roubles a year. In contrast, Olga and her social circle consisted of artists, actors, musicians, and writers who were all remarkable in some way.
Meanwhile, Olga Ivanovna and her friends and acquaintances were not quite ordinary people. Every one of them was remarkable in some way, and more or less famous; already had made a reputation...
Olga explained to her friends how she and Dymov met. Her father had been on the same hospital staff as Dymov, and when he fell ill, Dymov had watched over him day and night. After her father's death, Dymov continued to visit Olga and eventually proposed to her. She accepted, having fallen deeply in love with him.
Chapter 2. Daily life and artistic circles
Olga Ivanovna was twenty-two, and Dymov was thirty-one. They got along well in their marriage. She decorated their home with artistic flair, hanging sketches on the walls and creating picturesque corners with Japanese parasols and other decorative items. The dining room was styled in a Russian theme with peasant woodcuts and farm implements, while the bedroom was designed to resemble a cavern with dark cloths and a Venetian lantern.
Each day, Olga would rise at eleven, play the piano or paint, then visit her dressmaker. Despite their limited finances, she and her dressmaker created marvelous outfits from inexpensive materials. Afterward, she would visit actresses, artists, or other celebrities, being warmly welcomed everywhere. She was talented in many areas - singing, playing piano, painting, carving, and acting in amateur performances.
She adored celebrated people, was proud of them, dreamed of them every night. She craved for them, and never could satisfy her craving. The old ones departed and were forgotten, new ones came to replace them...
Olga and Dymov dined together between four and five. She was touched by his simplicity and good sense, often hugging and kissing him enthusiastically. However, she lamented that he took no interest in art, though he explained that he had spent his life focused on science and medicine, leaving no time for the arts.
"I don't understand them," he would say mildly. "I have spent all my life in working at natural science and medicine, and I have never had time to take an interest in the arts."
After dinner, Olga would visit friends or attend theaters and concerts, returning after midnight. On Wednesdays, she hosted gatherings where guests engaged in various artistic activities. An actor would recite, a singer would perform, and artists would sketch in Olga's albums. Dymov was rarely present at these gatherings until he appeared at half-past eleven to invite everyone to supper. The guests would eat and drink while continuing their artistic discussions, largely ignoring Dymov.
Their honeymoon was briefly interrupted when Dymov caught erysipelas at the hospital and had to have his hair cut. Later, he cut his fingers during dissections but dismissed Olga's concerns. Despite these incidents, their life continued happily.
Chapter 3. Plans for summer and growing infatuation
Spring approached, promising many delights. Olga and Dymov planned to spend April, May, and June in a summer villa outside town, enjoying walks, sketching, fishing, and nightingales. From July onward, Olga would join an artists' tour on the Volga River. She had already prepared traveling dresses and purchased painting supplies for the journey.
Ryabovsky frequently visited Olga to check her painting progress. When she showed him her work, he would make cryptic comments about clouds "screaming" and foregrounds being "chewed up," which somehow made perfect sense to her.
During Trinity week, Dymov, who hadn't seen his wife for a fortnight, bought sweets and went to visit her at the villa. When he arrived, Olga wasn't home. He found three unknown men in the house, including two dark-haired bearded men and a clean-shaven actor. Soon, Olga returned with Ryabovsky, delighted to see her husband but quickly distracted by plans for a telegraph clerk's wedding the next day.
Olga realized she had nothing suitable to wear to the wedding and begged Dymov to return to their city apartment to fetch her pink dress and flowers. Despite having just arrived and being hungry and tired, Dymov agreed to go back immediately. After he left, the other men ate the food he had brought.
Chapter 4. The affair with Ryabovsky begins
On a moonlit July night, Olga Ivanovna stood on the deck of a Volga steamer with Ryabovsky. He spoke poetically about shadows on the water being dreams and the vanity of life compared to something higher and eternal. Olga listened, thinking about immortality and her future as a great artist, imagining crowds, lights, music, and flowers showered upon her.
She believed that beside her stood a true genius whose future work would be astounding. She admired his handsome appearance and his free, independent life. When she shivered from the cool air, Ryabovsky wrapped her in his cloak and confessed his love for her. He stared at her intensely, making her afraid to meet his gaze.
Ryabovsky declared his mad love and begged her to love him in return, saying he would give up art for her. When Olga mentioned Dymov, Ryabovsky dismissed him as irrelevant compared to their love, the Volga, the moon, and beauty.
"What of Dymov? Why Dymov? What have I to do with Dymov? The Volga, the moon, beauty, my love, ecstasy, and there is no such thing as Dymov.... Ah! I don't know... I don't care about the past..."
Olga's heart raced as she tried to think about her husband, but her past life seemed petty and far away. She covered her face with her hands, thinking about ruin and experiencing everything in life. Looking into Ryabovsky's tear-filled eyes, she embraced and kissed him. Their moment was interrupted by an announcement of their approach to Kineshmo and the arrival of a waiter, to whom Olga, both laughing and crying with happiness, ordered wine.
Chapter 5. Disillusionment on the Volga
On September second, the weather was warm but overcast. A morning mist hung over the Volga, and rain began after nine o'clock with no sign of clearing. During breakfast, Ryabovsky complained that painting was boring and ungrateful, denied having any talent, and impulsively destroyed his best sketch with a knife. He sat glumly at the window, gazing at the dingy, colorless Volga that now seemed stripped of its summer beauty.
Ryabovsky was in a foul mood, thinking he had lost his talent and that everything in the world was relative and stupid. He regretted his involvement with Olga. Meanwhile, she sat behind a screen, imagining her return to city life - her drawing room, bedroom, theater visits, and distinguished friends. She missed Dymov, who faithfully sent her seventy-five roubles each month and even sent an extra hundred when she mentioned lending money to the artists.
Olga was tired of traveling, bored with peasant life, and felt physically unclean from living in huts and wandering from village to village. She wished they could leave immediately, but Ryabovsky had promised the other artists they would stay until September twentieth.
When Ryabovsky complained that he couldn't work on a sunny landscape without the sun, Olga suggested he finish a cloudy sky sketch instead. He snapped at her for presuming to tell him what to do. Her face quivered, and she moved away to cry. Ryabovsky was irritated by her tears, claiming he had a thousand reasons to cry but didn't. Olga accused him of being weary of their love and trying to hide it from the other artists, though she believed they already knew.
Ryabovsky begged her not to worry him, saying that was all he wanted from her. When she demanded he swear he still loved her, he hissed that it was agony and might drive him to throw himself in the Volga or go mad. He stormed out of the hut while Olga lay crying on the bed.
After Ryabovsky left, Olga cried for a long time. She briefly considered poisoning herself so he would find her dead upon his return, but her thoughts soon turned to civilization and city life. When Ryabovsky returned at sunset, he was pale and exhausted. Olga tried to be nice by combing his hair, but he recoiled from her touch with apparent aversion.
Olga suddenly felt insulted and announced she was leaving that day. Ryabovsky didn't object, merely saying they would meet again after the twentieth. She packed cheerfully, excited to return to normal life. Before leaving, she left her paints and brushes with Ryabovsky and encouraged him not to be lazy. He gave her a farewell kiss away from the other artists, and she departed on the steamer.
Chapter 6. Deteriorating relationships
Olga arrived home two and a half days later. Still wearing her hat and waterproof, she rushed into the dining room where Dymov sat sharpening a knife and fork with a grouse on his plate. Seeing his broad, happy smile and joyful eyes, she felt that deceiving him would be as vile as bearing false witness or stealing. She knelt before him, intending to confess everything, but fear and shame prevented her.
By mid-winter, Dymov seemed to suspect his wife's infidelity. He couldn't look her in the face and often invited his colleague Korostelev to dinner to avoid being alone with her. The two doctors would discuss medical cases, seemingly to give Olga opportunities to remain silent rather than lie.
Olga became increasingly reckless in her behavior. Each morning she would wake thinking she no longer cared for Ryabovsky, but by the time she finished her coffee, she would be consumed with thoughts of him. She would visit his studio in an agitated state, finding him usually in good spirits about his painting. Jealous of his work, she would beg him not to abandon her, crying and kissing his hands.
If she didn't find Ryabovsky at his studio, she would leave a note threatening suicide if he didn't visit. When he did come, he would say rude things to her, and she would respond in kind. Both felt burdened by their relationship but continued their destructive pattern. After these visits, Ryabovsky would hurry to leave, and Olga would question him about where he was going, suspecting other women.
That man crushes me with his magnanimity... This phrase pleased her so much that when she met the artists who knew of her affair with Ryabovsky she said every time of her husband, with a vigorous movement of her arm...
The couple's life continued as before, with Wednesday gatherings where artists sketched, musicians played, and actors recited. At half-past eleven, Dymov would invite everyone to supper. However, unlike the previous year, he no longer slept when Olga returned late but worked in his study until three in the morning, rising at eight.
Chapter 7. Dymovs illness
One evening, as Olga prepared for the theater, Dymov entered her bedroom wearing a dress coat and white tie. With a radiant face, he announced that he had just defended his thesis and might be offered a Readership in General Pathology. Olga, not understanding what this meant and worried about being late for the theater, said nothing. Dymov sat for two more minutes and left with a guilty smile.
Later, Olga experienced a very troubled day. Dymov had a severe headache, skipped breakfast, and spent the day lying on his sofa instead of going to the hospital. Olga visited Ryabovsky to show him a still-life sketch and ask why he hadn't visited the previous evening. As she entered his studio without knocking, she glimpsed a woman hiding behind a large picture - the same place where Olga herself had often hidden.
Ryabovsky appeared embarrassed but extended his hands in greeting. Olga's eyes filled with tears; she felt ashamed and bitter but couldn't speak in front of her rival. She timidly showed him her sketch, and he took it into another room. After the woman left, Olga wanted to scream and hit Ryabovsky but felt crushed by shame, seeing herself as insignificant.
Ryabovsky spoke languidly about her work, suggesting she should give up painting for music since she wasn't a true artist. To avoid confrontation, Olga fled before he returned. She felt freed from Ryabovsky, painting, and her shame. She visited her dressmaker and other acquaintances, thinking about writing Ryabovsky a cold letter and starting a new life with Dymov in the Crimea.
Upon returning home that evening, she began writing to Ryabovsky, criticizing his repetitive work and suggesting he owed his success to her influence. She was interrupted by Dymov calling from his study, saying he had caught diphtheria at the hospital and asking her to send for Korostelev. Horrified by the danger, Olga wrote an imploring letter to Korostelev at two in the morning.
Chapter 8. Dymovs sacrifice and death
The next morning, Olga encountered a black-bearded doctor in the entry. Korostelev stood near the study door and refused to let her in, explaining that diphtheria was contagious and Dymov was delirious anyway. He revealed that Dymov had contracted the disease by sucking mucus through a pipette from a boy with diphtheria - a foolish risk taken out of dedication to his work.
Several doctors arrived to take turns watching over their colleague. Korostelev remained constantly, wandering through the rooms like an uneasy spirit. The apartment became dismal and still. Olga sat in her bedroom, feeling that God was punishing her for deceiving her husband. She thought about how Dymov, that silent, uncomprehended creature, had been suffering without complaint.
She no longer thought about moonlit evenings on the Volga or their poetic life but only about how she had sullied herself with something filthy that could never be washed off. She prayed that if Dymov recovered, she would love him faithfully. The doctors came and went, paying no attention to the disorder in the apartment or to Olga's disheveled appearance.
Korostelev informed her that Dymov had diphtheria of the nasal cavity and his heart wasn't working properly. When Olga asked about consulting Dr. Shrek, Korostelev dismissed the suggestion, saying Shrek would be of no use. Time dragged on painfully. Olga dozed on her unmade bed, having strange dreams about iron filling the apartment.
Around three in the morning, Korostelev came to tell her that Dymov was dying. He sobbed, lamenting the loss to science, calling Dymov a great, extraordinary man with tremendous gifts and potential. He grew increasingly angry, tearing at the sheet and condemning how Dymov had sacrificed himself while others hadn't spared him.
The walls, the ceiling, the lamp, and the carpet on the floor, seemed to be winking at her sarcastically, as though they would say, "You were blind! you were blind!"
Suddenly understanding that Dymov was truly extraordinary compared to everyone else she knew, Olga rushed to his study. He lay motionless on the sofa, covered to the waist with a quilt, his face terribly thin and grayish-yellow. Only from his forehead, eyebrows, and familiar smile could he be recognized. Olga felt his chest, which was still warm, but his forehead and hands were cold, and his half-open eyes stared at the quilt, not at her.
She wanted to explain to him that it had been a mistake, that all was not lost, that life might still be beautiful and happy, that he was an extraordinary, rare, great man, and that she would all her life worship him...
She called his name repeatedly, patting his shoulder, unable to believe he would never wake again. In the drawing room, Korostelev was instructing the housemaid to find the church beadle to arrange for washing and laying out the body.