“He
instinctively disliked elaborate and fancy explanations of simple literary
phenomena.”
A
reader proposes an ingenious reading of a Chekhov story, including multiple references
to homosexuality I had never noticed. At the close of several paragraphs, he
writes: “I think that covers it.” Not really. My reader’s explication de texte is thorough, clever and internally consistent
but adds nothing to our enjoyment of Chekhov’s story, which is devoted to the
comedy of people who are unable to communicate with each other. I’m reminded
again that reading is not a minor branch of cryptography, and that one can be
too clever for one’s own good.
Writing
at the top is David Cecil in Max
(1964), his biography of Max Beerbohm. The passage comes late in the book. Born
in 1872, Beerbohm is an old man living in Rapallo, Italy, many decades
removed from the midcentury literary world. Cecil recounts Beerbohm’s meeting
with Edmund Wilson in 1954. Beerbohm had never heard of Wilson. When a friend tells
him that Wilson has been writing about Marx, Vico and Michelet, Beerbohm
replies, “Ah, I see. He is the henchman of the unreadable.” Wilson asks
Beerbohm what he thinks of the theory that “The Turn of the Screw” is a study in
neurosis, that all of the story’s events take place in the governess’ mind.
Beerbohm replies common-sensically that the theory is nonsense, the creation of
“some morbid pedant, prig and fool.” Wilson admits it was his idea, but
Beerbohm stands his ground, and that’s when Cecil interjects the observation at
the top, and continues:
“Moreover,
he had a prejudice against the new psychology in literature or anywhere else.
He felt it a threat to the privacy of spirit on which he set a supreme value.
Nor did he believe in its healing powers.”
Beerbohm
dismisses Freudian voodoo, and says he adored his parents and siblings, which
sets up one of his best lines: “They were a tense and peculiar family, the
Oedipuses, weren’t they?”
No,
Chekhov doesn’t need our help. He is perfectly and inexhaustibly himself.
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