Ah, Chekhov....A rarity among great writers: a great person. (And so handsome, too -- <sigh> -- before his tuberculosis withered him up.) Even his fellow-writers (normally a quarrelsome and competitive bunch) recognized it.
This, from Gorky's reminiscences of Chekhov:
I believe that every man when in the presence of Anton Pavlovitch felt the desire of being simpler, truer, more like his natural self....... Himself beautiful and simple, he loved simplicity, reality and sincerity, and he had a special way of making those with whom he came in contact simpler and better.
Even Tolstoy, that old egoist, was affected (again from Gorky):
He [Tolstoy] loved Chekhov and when he looked at him his eyes were tender and seemed almost to stroke Anton Pavlovich's face. Once, when Anton Pavlovich was walking on the lawn with Alexandra Lvovna, Tolstoy, who at the time was still ill and was sitting in a chair on the terrace, seemed to stretch towards them, saying in a whisper: "Ah, what a beautiful, magnificent man: modest and quiet like a girl...... He's simply wonderful."
I have to confess that I too was once in love with Chekhov, even though he was long dead...:-)
Joan
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