Who Was to Blame? (Chekhov)
Short summary
Russia, late 19th century. Pyotr Demyanitch, a Latin teacher, discovered mice had nibbled his grammar book and demanded his cook get a cat. The cook pointed to a young white kitten, which Pyotr insisted must be trained to catch mice.
The kitten, though descended from tigers, spent its time daydreaming of hunting rather than actually doing it. When Pyotr caught a mouse in a trap, he attempted to train the kitten by showing it the mouse and releasing it, expecting the kitten to give chase.
Instead, the terrified kitten fled. Pyotr repeated this cruel training several times, punishing the kitten for its failures until finally giving up in disgust.
A year passed, the thin, frail kitten had turned into a solid and sagacious tomcat... he suddenly heard a rustle... caught sight of a mouse... my hero's hair stood on end, he arched his back, hissed, and trembling all over, took to ignominious flight.
The narrator, Pyotr's nephew, concluded by comparing himself to the cat. Having been taught Latin by his uncle, he now fled in terror whenever encountering classical works, just as the cat fled from mice.
The story suggested that poor educational methods could destroy natural instincts and create lasting trauma, answering the title's question of who was truly to blame for the failures that resulted.
Detailed summary
Division into chapters is editorial.
The discovery of mice and introduction of the kitten
One morning, Pyotr Demyanitch, a collegiate councillor who taught Latin at the high school, discovered that mice had nibbled the corner of his grammar book. He immediately went to the kitchen to complain to his cook, Praskovya, noting that the previous day his top hat had also been damaged by mice.
When Pyotr suggested getting a cat to solve the problem, Praskovya pointed to a corner where a thin white kitten lay curled up asleep beside a broom. Pyotr was skeptical about the kitten's usefulness due to its young age, but insisted it should be trained to catch mice rather than just sleeping.
The kittens daydreams and natural hunting instincts
After Pyotr left the kitchen, the kitten remained awake, lost in thought. Having no real-life experience or accumulated impressions, the kitten's mental processes were purely instinctive, based on inherited conceptions from its tiger ancestors.
The kitten lay awake thinking. Of what? Unacquainted with real life, having no store of accumulated impressions, his mental processes could only be instinctive, and he could but picture life in accordance with the conceptions that he had inherited.
In its daydreams, the kitten imagined something like the Arabian desert with shadows resembling Praskovya, the stove, and the broom. The kitten envisioned a saucer of milk that began to move, and it pounced on this imaginary prey with bloodthirsty sensuality. Similarly, it imagined attacking a piece of meat dropped by Praskovya.
Obviously he was born a mouse catcher, a worthy son of his bloodthirsty ancestors. Fate had destined him to be the terror of cellars, storerooms and cornbins, and had it not been for education... we will not anticipate, however.
Under the influence of these predatory daydreams, the kitten suddenly leaped up and dug its claws into Praskovya's skirt, demonstrating its natural hunting instincts despite its youth and inexperience.
The first mouse capture and failed training attempt
On his way home from the high school, Pyotr Demyanitch purchased a mousetrap for fifteen kopecks. At dinner, he baited the trap with a piece of his rissole and set it under the sofa. That evening, while correcting his pupils' exercises, Pyotr heard a loud snap from the trap.
Upon checking, he found a small mouse caught in the trap. Pleased with his success, Pyotr called for Praskovya to bring the kitten, intending to teach it how to catch mice.
"I'll teach you to eat my grammar!" Having gloated over his victim, Pyotr Demyanitch put the mousetrap on the floor and called: "Praskovya, there's a mouse caught! Bring the kitten here!"
When Praskovya brought the kitten, Pyotr placed it in front of the mousetrap, expecting it to show interest in the mouse. However, the kitten was frightened by the situation and tried to escape. Pyotr forcibly held the kitten by the scruff of its neck and pushed its nose against the trap, insisting that it look at the mouse.
When Pyotr released the mouse from the trap, it immediately darted under the sofa. The kitten, upon being released, fled under the table with its tail in the air, completely failing to chase the mouse as Pyotr had intended.
Continued training failures and punishment
Furious at the kitten's failure to catch the mouse, Pyotr dragged it from under the table and shook it in the air. He smacked the kitten on the ear, scolding it for shirking its duty. The terrified kitten took refuge under the stove and remained there all night.
"Wretched little beast," he muttered, smacking him on the ear. "Take that, take that! Will you shirk it next time? Wr-r-r-etch..." Next day Praskovya heard again the summons. "Praskovya, there is a mouse caught! Bring the kitten here!"
The next day, Pyotr caught another mouse and summoned Praskovya to bring the kitten again. When Praskovya pulled the kitten from under the stove, it was trembling and mewing pitifully. Pyotr insisted on continuing the training, holding the kitten by the ear in front of the trap.
Once more, when the mouse was released, it escaped past the kitten, which immediately fled under the sofa. This pattern repeated with a third and fourth mouse, with the kitten becoming increasingly frightened. After the fourth failure, Pyotr flew into a rage, kicked the kitten, and ordered Praskovya to get rid of it, declaring it useless.
One year later: the cats fear of mice
A year passed, and the once thin, frail kitten had grown into a solid and sagacious tomcat. One day, as the cat was making its way to an amatory meeting, it spotted a mouse running from a water-trough toward a stable.
Despite being a mature cat with natural hunting instincts, its reaction was unexpected. At the sight of the mouse, the cat's hair stood on end, it arched its back and hissed, then took to ignominious flight, completely terrified of the very creature it was naturally meant to hunt.
The narrators personal connection to the story
In the final section, the narrator reveals his personal connection to the story. Like the kitten, he had been taught Latin by his uncle Pyotr Demyanitch.
Alas! sometimes I feel myself in the ludicrous position of the flying cat. Like the kitten, I had in my day the honour of being taught Latin by my uncle... I turn pale, my hair stands up on my head, and, like the cat, I take to ignominious flight.
Now, whenever the narrator encounters classical works, instead of feeling enthusiasm, he recalls the irregular verbs, his uncle's sallow face, and the ablative absolute. These memories cause him to react with fear and avoidance, just as the cat flees at the sight of mice due to its traumatic training experiences.