
Dmitri Petrovitch Silin, a Petersburg civil servant who at thirty gave up his post to take up farming, is the narrator's friend, though the narrator senses Silin is not truly suited to farm life and privately prefers Silin's wife, Marya Sergeyevna, whom he finds himself missing and admiring though not, he insists, loving. Silin, meanwhile, calls the narrator his dearest friend and confides in him with an intensity that makes the narrator uneasy. One July Sunday the narrator and Silin drive to the village of Klushino to buy supper provisions. They are trailed by a ruined, drunken former servant of both men's households known as "Forty Martyrs" (Gavril Syeverov, or Gavryushka), a priest's son who has sunk through clerical school, a monastery, various menial jobs, and four trials, and who now begs Silin for shelter. Waiting by the church for their coachman, the two men sit in the porch as mist rises over the river; Silin muses aloud about why frightening stories are drawn from ghosts rather than life, and confesses to a pervasive terror of ordinary existence — the falsity of daily routine, the incomprehensibility of the peasants' suffering, the fear that governs even a beetle in the grass. Silin agrees to take Forty Martyrs in for three days. Driving home, arm around the narrator's waist, Silin extends his confession: his happy family life is a sham. He courted Marya Sergeyevna for two years and proposed five times before she finally accepted him on the sixth attempt, saying only, "I don't love you, but I will be true to you." He still loves her intensely but cannot fathom whether she loves him, and this uncertainty tortures him. At supper Marya Sergeyevna teases the narrator about missing his friend. Silin, exhausted, retires early to the lodge to rise for a timber sale, leaving the narrator alone with her. In the drawing room and on the verandah, charged small talk turns into mutual admission of attraction; the narrator notices her golden eyebrows and feels the night is fated. Outside, he passes Forty Martyrs settling to sleep on a garden bench, sighing "Wretched, bitter life," which momentarily unsettles the narrator's elation. He returns and embraces Marya Sergeyevna. In the narrator's room she declares she has loved him over a year, weeps, vows eternal love, and begs to be taken away — protestations of seriousness the narrator does not want, having hoped only for a fleeting night. At three in the morning, as she leaves his room, Silin appears in the corridor, having returned for the cap he forgot. He finds it, looks at the narrator's confusion, and says in an altered voice that it must be his fate to understand nothing, adding, "if you understand anything, I congratulate you. It's all darkness before my eyes." He then harnesses his horses himself, hands trembling, glancing back at the house as if in terror, and drives off. The narrator leaves that same morning, with the drunken Forty Martyrs on the coach box shouting that he is "a free man" and "a nobleman in my own right." Tormented by bewilderment over why events unfolded as they did, and infected by Silin's terror, the narrator departs for Petersburg. He states he has not seen Dmitri Petrovitch or Marya Sergeyevna since, but has heard that they are still living together.
By Anton Chekhov · First published 1886 · Genre: Psychological Fiction, Realism, Drama · 5,893 words
Dmitri Petrovitch Silin had taken his degree and entered the government service in Petersburg, but at thirty he gave up his post and went in for agriculture. His farming was fairly successful, and yet it always seemed to me that he was not in his proper place, and that he would do well to go back to Petersburg. When sunburnt, grey with dust, exhausted with toil, he met me near the gates or at the entrance, and then at supper struggled with sleepiness and his wife took him off to bed as though he were a baby; or when, overcoming his sleepiness, he began in his soft, cordial, almost imploring voice, to talk about his really excellent ideas, I saw him not as a farmer nor an agriculturist, but only as a worried and exhausted man, and it was clear to me that he did not really care for farming, but that all he wanted was for the day to be over and "Thank God for it."
Terror is listed on Textopian as a short story by Anton Chekhov, dated 1886 CE.
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Psychological Thriller · Short Story Collection · Russian Literature · Dark Humor · Satire · Social Commentary · Philosophical Themes · Existentialism · Absurdism · Tragicomedy · Morality Play · Critique of Society