Ivanov Read online

  Ivanov

  Anton Chekhov, Russian dramatist and short-story writer, was born in 1860, the son of a grocer and the grandson of a serf. After graduating in medicine from Moscow University in 1884, he began to make his name in the theatre with the one-act comedies The Bear, The Proposal and The Wedding. His earliest full-length plays, Ivanov (1887) and The Wood Demon (1889), were not successful, and The Seagull, produced in 1896, was a failure until a triumphant revival by the Moscow Art Theatre in 1898. This was followed by Uncle Vanya (1899), Three Sisters (1901) and The Cherry Orchard (1904), shortly after the production of which Chekhov died. The first English translations of his plays were performed within five years of his death.

  Tom Stoppard has made English versions of The Seagull (1997) and The Cherry Orchard (2009). His other translations and adaptations include The House of Bernarda Alba (Lorca), Undiscovered Country and Dalliance (Schnitzler), On the Razzle (Nestroy), Rough Crossing (Molnár), Largo Desolato (Havel), Heroes (Sibleyras) and Henry IV (Pirandello).

  Plays

  Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead *

  Enter a Free Man * · The Real Inspector Hound *

  After Magritte * · Jumpers * · Travesties *

  Dirty Linen and New-Found-Land *

  Every Good Boy Deserves Favour *

  Night and Day · Dogg’s Hamlet, Cahoot’s Macbeth *

  Undiscovered Country

  (adapted from Arthur Schnitzler’s Das weite Land)

  On the Razzle

  (adapted from Johann Nestroy’s Einen Jux will er sich machen)

  The Real Thing · Rough Crossing

  (adapted from Ferenc Molnár’s Play at the Castle)

  Dalliance (adapted from Arthur Schnitzler’s Liebelei)

  Hapgood · Arcadia

  Indian Ink (an adaptation of In the Native State)

  The Invention of Love * · Voyage: The Coast of Utopia Part I *

  Shipwreck: The Coast of Utopia Part II *

  Salvage: The Coast of Utopia Part III *

  Rock ‘n‘ Roll *

  Television Scripts

  A Separate Peace · Teeth · Another Moon Called Earth

  Neutral Ground · Professional Foul · Squaring the Circle

  Radio Plays

  The Dissolution of Dominic Boot

  “M” Is for Moon Among Other Things

  If You’re Glad, I’ll Be Frank · Albert’s Bridge

  Where Are They Now? · Artist Descending a Staircase

  The Dog It Was That Died · In the Native State

  On Dover Beach

  Screenplays

  Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead Shakespeare in Love (with Marc Norman)

  Fiction

  Lord Malquist and Mr. Moon*

  *Available from Grove Press

  ANTON CHEKHOV

  Ivanov

  in a new English version by

  TOM STOPPARD

  based on a literal translation by Helen Rappaport

  Grove Press

  New York

  Adapation copyright © 2008 by Tom Stoppard

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, or the facilitation thereof, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. Any members of educational institutions wishing to photocopy part or all of the work for classroom use, or publishers who would like to obtain permission to include the work in an anthology, should send their inquiries to Grove/Atlantic, Inc., 841 Broadway, New York, NY 10003.

  CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that Ivanov is subject to a royalty. It is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States, Canada, United Kingdom, and all British Commonwealth countries, and all countries covered by the International Copyright Union, the Pan-American Copyright Convention, and the Universal Copyright Convention. All rights, including professional, amateur, motion picture, recitation, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound taping, all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, such as information storage and retrieval systems and photocopying, and rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved.

  First-class professional, stock, and amateur applications for permission to perform it, and those other rights stated above, for Ivanov must be made in advance to the author’s agent, United Agents Ltd., 12-26 Lexington Street, London, W1F 0LE, Attn: Rose Cobbe.

  First published in 2008 in Great Britain by Faber and Faber Limited

  ISBN: 978-0-8021-4408-9

  eISBN: 978-0-8021-9102-1

  Printed in the United States of America

  Grove Press

  an imprint of Grove/Atlantic, Inc.

  841 Broadway

  New York, NY 10003

  Distributed by Publishers Group West

  www.groveatlantic.com

  09 10 11 12 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Ivanov in this version was first presented by the Donmar Warehouse at the Wyndham’s Theatre, London, on 12 September 2008. The cast, in order of appearance, was as follows:

  IvanovKenneth Branagh

  Borkin Lorcan Cranitch

  Shabelsky Malcolm Sinclair

  Anna Petrovna Gina McKee

  Lvov Tom Hiddleston

  Zinaida Sylvestra Le Touzel

  Kosykh James Tucker

  Avdotya Linda Broughton

  Yegorushka John Atterbury

  Anasim Ian Drysdale

  Natalia Emma Beattie

  Yacob Malcolm Ridley

  Nikander James Howard

  Gavrila Jonathan Battersby

  Lipa Giovanna Falcone

  Babakina Lucy Briers

  Lebedev Kevin R. McNally

  Sasha Andrea Riseborough

  Pyotr John Atterbury

  Director Michael Grandage

  Set and Costume Designer Christopher Oram

  Lighting Designer Paule Constable

  Composer and Sound Designer Adam Cork

  Characters

  Nikolay Ivanov,

  landowner and regional councillor

  Anna Petrovna, his wife

  Count Matvey Shabelsky, his maternal uncle

  Mikhail Borkin, his estate manager

  Yevgeny Lvov, a young doctor

  Pyotr, Ivanov’s servant

  At the Lebedevs

  Pavel Lebedev, a wealthy neighbour

  Zinaida, his wife

  Sasha, their daughter

  Marfa Babakina, a wealthy young widow

  Dmitry Kosykh, an excise officer

  Avdotya Nazarovna, an old woman

  Yegorushka, a dependent

  Gavrila, a servant

  First Guest

  Second Guest

  Third Guest

  Fourth Guest

  and Visitors, Wedding Guests, Servants

  IVANOV

  Notes

  Words in square brackets may be overlapped or elided.

  ‘Nicolas’ is pronounced as in French.

  Act One

  Outdoors at Ivanov’s estate: the house-front with an open window, a terrace, some garden furniture, a suggestion of the garden beyond and an avenue of trees. Evening is drawing in. From the window, the sound of a duet, piano and cello, practising.

  Ivanov sits at the table reading a book. Borkin, in high top-boots, with a rifle, appears from the garden. He is tipsy. Catching sight of Ivanov, he tiptoes up to him and, coming alongside him, points the gun at Ivanov’s face.

  Ivanov(jumping up) For God’s sake, Misha – what?! – you scared the –! I’m a bag of nerves as it is without you, without your stupid . . .

  Borkin(guffaws) Right, right, apologies, sorr
y.

  IvanovYou scared the life out of me and you think it’s funny . . .

  Borkin(sits down next to him) Won’t happen again – promise. (Takes off his cap.) Lord, it’s hot. Think of it, dear chap – I’ve covered sixteen versts in three hours, I’m knackered – heart going like the clappers, lend us your hand a minute . . .

  Ivanov(reading) I’m reading . . .

  BorkinNo, feel my heart –

  He takes Ivanov’s hand and puts it to his chest.

  Can you feel? Di-dum, di-dum, di-dum, dum-dim – see? Heart disease! I could drop dead any moment. Actually – would you be sorry if I died?

  IvanovI’m reading, ask me later.

  BorkinSeriously though, would you? If I died would you miss me, Nikolay?

  IvanovWill you please stop [bothering me]!

  BorkinJust say – would you mind if I –

  IvanovWhat I mind is you reeking of vodka.

  Borkin(laughs) Do I? I’m amazed. Well, not really. Nothing amazing about it. I ran into the magistrate in town, we knocked back a few or seven or eight. Actually, drinking’s not good for you. It’s bad for you, in fact – wouldn’t you agree? Eh? Bad for you?

  IvanovThis really is . . . Can’t you understand you’re driving me [mad]?

  BorkinRight, right . . . apologies, sorry again . . .!

  He gets up and moves off.

  Some people are extraordinary – you’re not even allowed to talk to them.

  He returns.

  Oh – almost forgot – eighty-two roubles, please.

  IvanovWhat eighty-two roubles?

  BorkinTomorrow’s wages for the workmen.

  IvanovI haven’t got it.

  BorkinOh, good. ‘I haven’t got it’! Perhaps you think the men can go without their wages?

  IvanovI don’t know what I think. I just haven’t got it. You’ll have to wait till the first of the month.

  BorkinWe’re not connecting here – the men aren’t coming for their wages on the first of the month, they’re coming tomorrow [morning].

  IvanovWell, what am I supposed to do about it? (Angrily.) And since when do you think you can interrupt me when I’m [reading]?

  BorkinLook, I’m only asking – do we give the men their wages or don’t we? Waste of breath. Gentleman farmers! Three thousand acres of scientific agriculture and not a bean to show for it. Like having a wine cellar and no corkscrew. Maybe I’ll just up and sell the troika tomorrow! I sold the oats on the stalk, see if I don’t sell the barley. If you think I’d think twice you’ve got the wrong man.

  Shabelsky is heard through the window.

  ShabelskyIt’s impossible to play with you! I’ve known stuffed carp with more ear for music.

  Anna(appearing at the open window) Who’s that – you, Misha? What are you stamping about for?

  BorkinYou’d be stamping about if you had to deal with your cher Maître Nicolas.

  AnnaOh – Misha – get them to bring some hay to the croquet lawn.

  Borkin(waves his hand dismissively) Kindly don’t bother me now.

  AnnaNow don’t get high and mighty – women find it unattractive. Oh Nikolay! – let’s go and do cartwheels in the hay!

  IvanovIt can’t be good for you standing at an open window, do go inside, Anyuta darling. (Shouts.) Uncle – close the window!

  The window closes.

  BorkinAnd another thing – Lebedev’s due his interest the day after tomorrow.

  IvanovI know. I’m going over there later – I’ll ask for more time.

  BorkinYou’re going when?

  Ivanov(looking at his pocket watch) Now – soon –

  Borkin(eagerly) Hang on, isn’t it Sasha’s birthday today? Silly me – I almost forgot – what a memory! (Hops about.) Tell you what, I’ll come along with you – (Sings.) I’ll come along with you . . . First a swim, chew some paper, splash on some anti-booze and start off the day again. Mon ange, mon frère, mon petit Nikolay Alekseevich – you’re all jumpy and down in the dumps all the time, always moaning, goodness me – You and me, me and you, what the two of us couldn’t do only the devil could! There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you How about if I marry Marfushka Babakina? Half the dowry is yours. Did I say half? – have the lot!

  IvanovDo stop talking rubbish.

  BorkinNo, I’m serious, really and truly – Do you want me to marry Marfa? Divvy up the dowry? . . . I don’t know why I bother. (Mimics him.) ’Do stop talking rubbish’! You’re not a bad chap, quite bright, really, but what you need is a bit of get up and go . . . You’re a case, a chronic gloom merchant, which if you weren’t, you could have a million inside a year. Here’s a for instance: Ovsyanov is selling a strip of land on the other bank just opposite, for 2, 300 roubles. If we buy it we’ll own both sides of the river. And if both banks are ours – follow me? – we’d have the right to build a dam. Yes? We start building a mill, and as soon as we tell them we want to make a mill pond, everyone downstream will kick up a fuss and we’ll put it to them straight – kommen Sie hier – if you don’t want the dam, it will cost you. Am I getting through? The Zarevsky factory will be good for five thousand, Korokolkov three thousand, five thousand from the monastery . . .

  IvanovThat’s called extortion. If you don’t want a row keep your ideas to yourself.

  Borkin(sits down at the table) Of course! I should have known.

  Shabelsky comes out of the house with Lvov.

  ShabelskyDoctors! – They’re like lawyers, only with doctors when they’ve finished robbing you, you die . . . any doctors present excepted, of course. Bloodsucking quacks. There may be some utopia where exceptions prove the rule, but in my life I must have spent about twenty thousand on doctors and never met one who wasn’t an out-and-out swindler with a licence to practise.

  Borkin(resuming, to Ivanov) Yes, tie my hands and sit on your own – that’s why we’re broke.

  ShabelskyPresent company excepted, as I say – there could be anomalies . . . (Yawns.) though frankly I doubt it.

  Ivanov(closing his book) So, doctor, what’s the verdict?

  Lvov(glancing round at the window) No different from this morning – she needs to go south immediately – to the Crimea.

  Shabelsky(snorts with laughter) To the Crimea! . . . We should all be doctors! It’s so simple – Madame’s got a tickle in her throat, or coughing for something to do, so grab a sheet of paper and prescribe as follows: take one young doctor, followed by one trip to the Crimea, and in the Crimea, one good-looking Tartar to put the colour in her cheeks . . .

  Ivanov(to Shabelsky) Would you stop blathering on! (To Lvov.) To go to the Crimea requires money, and even supposing I find it, she won’t hear of it.

  LvovI know.

  BorkinI say, Doctor, is Anna Petrovna really as ill as all that? – Crimea and everything?

  Lvov(glancing round at the window) Yes, it’s tuberculosis.

  BorkinOof! . . . Not good . . . I could see in her face for a while now she’s not long for this world.

  LvovPlease keep your voice down – you can be heard indoors.

  Borkin(sighing) Life . . .! Life is like a flower in a field – we just have time to come into bloom, then along comes a goat and goodbye flower.

  ShabelskyIt’s all nonsense and nothing but nonsense! . . . (Yawns.) Nonsense and humbug . . .

  Pause.

  BorkinI’ve been telling Nikolay Alekseevich how to make some money. I gave him a wonderful idea, but as ever the powder flashed in the pan. You can’t shift him . . . Look at him – a picture of misery . . . apathetic, worried sick.

  Shabelsky(stands up and stretches) You have a fat-headed genius for scheming and telling everybody how to change their lives – but you’ve never once taught me anything – go on, show me how, if you’re so clever – show me the way.

  Borkin(moving off) I’m going for a swim . . . Au revoir, gents – I could teach you twenty ways –

  Shabelsky(following him) Go on then, show me.

  BorkinNothing to it. In your sh
oes I’d have twenty thousand in a week. (Comes back.) Nikolay Alekseevich, can you give me a rouble?

  Ivanov silently hands him the money.

  Merci! (To Shabelsky.) You’ve got all the cards in your hand.

  Shabelsky(following him) So, what are they?

  BorkinIn your place I’d have thirty thousand in a week.

  Shabelsky follows Borkin out.

  Ivanov(aside) Useless people, useless talk, stupid questions . . . I’m ill with it. I’ve become crotchety, bad-tempered, rude to everyone . . . small-minded . . . I don’t know myself any more. My headaches last for days, I can’t sleep, there’s a buzzing in my ears, and there’s nowhere, absolutely nowhere, I can get away from everything.

  LvovI need to have a serious talk with you.

  Ivanov(continuing) Nowhere.

  LvovAbout your wife. She won’t agree to the Crimea but she’d go if you went with her.

  Ivanov turns to Lvov.

  IvanovThe cost of both of us going . . . Anyway I can’t get away. I’ve already taken time off this year.

  LvovAll right, say you can’t. Next point. The best medicine for TB is complete rest, and your wife doesn’t get a moment’s peace. She’s constantly upset by the way you treat her. Forgive me – I’m upset myself and I have to speak plainly. Your behaviour is killing her. Nikolay Alekseevich – please help me to think better of you.

  IvanovIt’s true. It’s all true. I’m terribly to blame no doubt, but my mind is so confused, I’m sick to my soul with a sort of lassitude, I haven’t the energy to make sense of anything. (Glances at the window.) Let’s move off, go for a stroll . . . I wish I could tell you everything from the very beginning but I’d need all night.

  They start to move off.

  Anna was – is – a rare, remarkable woman. She changed her faith for me, her name – abandoned home and family, gave up her fortune . . . and if I’d asked her for a hundred other sacrifices she’d have made them without a second’s thought. Not like me. I haven’t sacrificed a thing, and there’s nothing remarkable about me. Well, anyway . . . (Ponders.) Well, briefly, I married her because I was madly in love, I swore I would love her for ever, but . . . five years went by, she still loves me but I . . . (Spreads hands in a gesture of helplessness.) And here you are telling me she’ll soon be dead, and I feel no love or pity but only a kind of hollowness. To you it must look awful – I don’t understand what’s happening to me myself . . .