I would love to see a production of this, or any of the Chekhov I‘ve seen. I feel like it‘s probably a lot better onstage.
I would love to see a production of this, or any of the Chekhov I‘ve seen. I feel like it‘s probably a lot better onstage.
Completed 2 plays out of here for #bookspin/double spin this month.
- Uncle Vanya by Anton P. Chekhov (tagged)
- Blood Wedding by Federico Garcia Lorca
@TheAromaofBooks
Just did a Zoom reading of Uncle Vanya with a group from the Combined Actors of Cambridge! It was super fun, it‘s so much better to hear a play read aloud, and I‘m very glad the time difference (and internet) still allowed me to participate from here in Canada (though Chekov is perhaps better read in the evening than at noon!) 😄❤️🎭
With its themes of wasted lives and impossible love, Uncle Vanya takes place in the bucolic farmland of Russia on a country estate.
#bucolic
#beautifulwords
@Alwaysbeenaloverofbooks @OriginalCyn620
#Littens are over here talking about #shortestclassicyouread and I've just posted the longest classic I (so far) failed to finish to my #Instagram 🤣 The shortest classic I read is Uncle Vanya at 49 pages. Though technically a play! The next shortest was The Yellow Wallpaper at 64.
Russian forests crash down under the axe, trees are dying, the habitations of animals and birds are laid waste, rivers grow shallow and dry up, marvelous landscapes are disappearing forever.... Man is endowed with creativity in order to multiply that which has been given him; he has not created, but destroyed. There are fewer forests, rivers are drying up, wildlife has become extinct, the climate is ruined, and the earth is becoming ever poorer...
A woman can only become a man‘s friend in three stages: first, she‘s an agreeable acquaintance, then a mistress, and only after that a friend.
The world perishes not from bandits and fires, but from hatred, hostility, and all these petty squabbles.
Everything should be first-rate in a person, his face, clothes, soul and thoughts.
There is no greater sorrow than to know another's secret when you cannot help them.
This man, who for 25 years has been reading and writing about art, and in all that time has never understood anything about art, has for 25 years been hashing over other people's ideas about realism, naturalism and all that nonsense; for 25 years he‘s been reading and writing about what intelligent people already know and about what stupid people don't want to know-which means that for 25 years he's been taking nothing and making nothing out of it
...when one has no real life, one lives by mirages. It's still better than nothing.