Yelena/Helena Serebryakova Character Analysis

I still love her and am faithful to her, I help with what I can and have given up my property for the education of the children she had by the man she loved. I lost my happiness but kept my pride. And what became of her? Her youth has now gone, by the laws of nature her beauty has faded, the man she loved has passed on… What has she left?

I am now forty-seven. Till last year, like you, I deliberately tried to cloud my eyes with your learned talk, so as not to see real life — and I thought I was doing right. And now if you only knew! At nights I don’t sleep from vexation, from anger that I so foolishly lost the time when I could have had everything that my age now denies me!

I work all my life for learning, and I’m used to my study, the lecture hall, the colleagues I esteem — and then, I end up for no good reason in this tomb, see fools here every day, listen to worthless conversations… I want to live, I like success, I like fame, making a noise, and here it’s like being in exile. To pine every minute for the past, to watch the success of others, to be afraid of death… I can’t! I haven’t the strength! And they won’t even excuse me my age here!

You have here my life and my love; where am I to put them, what am I to do with them? My feelings are going to waste, like a ray of sunshine falling into a chasm, and I myself am going to waste.

She is beautiful, no question about that, but… she just eats, sleeps, walks, enchants us all with her beauty — and that’s all. She has no responsibilities, others work for her… It’s true, isn’t it? And an idle life can’t be a virtuous one.

You’re bored, you can’t find a role for yourself, and boredom and inactivity are infectious. Look: Uncle Vanya does nothing and just follows you round like a shadow, I’ve left my work and come running to you to talk. I’ve got lazy, I can’t do it! Doctor Mikhail Lvovich used to visit us very seldom, once a month, it was difficult to persuade him, but now he drives over here every day, he’s left his woods and his practice. You must be a sorceress.

No, uncertainty is better… There’s still hope…

We have here a decline which is the consequence of an impossible struggle for existence; a degeneration arising from stagnation, ignorance, a total lack of self-awareness, when a frozen, hungry, sick man, in order to preserve the remnants of life, to protect his children, instinctively, unconsciously grasps at anything to relieve his hunger and get warm, and destroys everything around without a thought for tomorrow. Now almost everything is destroyed, but nothing has yet been created to take its place.

I think you are a good, sincere person but there’s also something strange in your whole being. You came here with your husband and everyone who was busily working here and creating something had to drop what they were doing and devote the whole summer to looking after your husband’s gout and you yourself. Both of you — he and you — infected all of us with your idleness… I’m joking of course, but still… it’s strange, and I’m convinced that if you had stayed, the devastation would have been enormous.

…But let an old man include just one observation in his farewell greetings: my friends, one must do a job of work! One must do a job of work!

I still love her and am faithful to her, I help with what I can and have given up my property for the education of the children she had by the man she loved. I lost my happiness but kept my pride. And what became of her? Her youth has now gone, by the laws of nature her beauty has faded, the man she loved has passed on… What has she left?

I am now forty-seven. Till last year, like you, I deliberately tried to cloud my eyes with your learned talk, so as not to see real life — and I thought I was doing right. And now if you only knew! At nights I don’t sleep from vexation, from anger that I so foolishly lost the time when I could have had everything that my age now denies me!

I work all my life for learning, and I’m used to my study, the lecture hall, the colleagues I esteem — and then, I end up for no good reason in this tomb, see fools here every day, listen to worthless conversations… I want to live, I like success, I like fame, making a noise, and here it’s like being in exile. To pine every minute for the past, to watch the success of others, to be afraid of death… I can’t! I haven’t the strength! And they won’t even excuse me my age here!

You have here my life and my love; where am I to put them, what am I to do with them? My feelings are going to waste, like a ray of sunshine falling into a chasm, and I myself am going to waste.

She is beautiful, no question about that, but… she just eats, sleeps, walks, enchants us all with her beauty — and that’s all. She has no responsibilities, others work for her… It’s true, isn’t it? And an idle life can’t be a virtuous one.

You’re bored, you can’t find a role for yourself, and boredom and inactivity are infectious. Look: Uncle Vanya does nothing and just follows you round like a shadow, I’ve left my work and come running to you to talk. I’ve got lazy, I can’t do it! Doctor Mikhail Lvovich used to visit us very seldom, once a month, it was difficult to persuade him, but now he drives over here every day, he’s left his woods and his practice. You must be a sorceress.

No, uncertainty is better… There’s still hope…

We have here a decline which is the consequence of an impossible struggle for existence; a degeneration arising from stagnation, ignorance, a total lack of self-awareness, when a frozen, hungry, sick man, in order to preserve the remnants of life, to protect his children, instinctively, unconsciously grasps at anything to relieve his hunger and get warm, and destroys everything around without a thought for tomorrow. Now almost everything is destroyed, but nothing has yet been created to take its place.

I think you are a good, sincere person but there’s also something strange in your whole being. You came here with your husband and everyone who was busily working here and creating something had to drop what they were doing and devote the whole summer to looking after your husband’s gout and you yourself. Both of you — he and you — infected all of us with your idleness… I’m joking of course, but still… it’s strange, and I’m convinced that if you had stayed, the devastation would have been enormous.

…But let an old man include just one observation in his farewell greetings: my friends, one must do a job of work! One must do a job of work!