Chekhov Shorts: Frost

Title: Frost
Date Read: 11th June 2013
Briefly: The town has organised a fete to coincide with the Feast of Epiphany. And while it may be 31 degrees below zero, the townsfolk are determined that it will still go ahead.
Afterthoughts: While the summary makes it sound rather inviting, Frost turns out to be rather a mediocre tale. It has its highlights – like when the chatterbox mayor of the town (Eremeyev) is relating tales of personal hardship caused by cold weather – but it ends up being a bit floppy and lifeless. Worth reading, as any Chekhov tale is, but there are much better wintery tales out there (try Misery for example, or to a lesser degree, Sorrow).
Notable Quote: “…I’ve a fur coat now, and at home I have a stove and rums and punches of all sorts. The frost means nothing to me now; I take no notice of it, I don’t care to know of it, but how it used to be in old days, Holy Mother! It’s dreadful to recall it! My memory is failing me with years and I have forgotten everything; my enemies, and my sins and troubles of all sorts — I forget them all, but the frost — ough! How I remember it!”

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

*Story read as part of my Checkin’ Off The Chekhov Shorts reading challenge.

About Rob

Rob, a self-confessed bibliophile, is without any hope of rehabilitation. He gets unnaturally excited over anything book-shaped, and if book sniffing were a crime then he would have been locked up years ago (which wouldn't bother him in the slightest provided his cell was lined with books).