Chekhov ward no. 6 pdf

The front of the lodge faces the hospital; at the back it looks out into the open country, from which it is separated by the grey hospital fence with nails on it. These nails, with their points upwards, and the fence, and the lodge itself, have that peculiar, desolate, God-forsaken look which is only found in our hospital and prison buildings. If you are not afraid of being stung by the nettles, come by the narrow footpath that leads to the lodge, and let us see what is going on inside.

Opening the first door, we walk into the entry. Here along the walls and by the stove every sort of hospital rubbish lies littered about. Mattresses, old tattered dressing-gowns, trousers, blue striped shirts, boots and shoes no good for anything--all these remnants are piled up in heaps, mixed up and crumpled, mouldering and giving out a sickly smell.

The porter, Nikita, an old soldier wearing rusty good-conduct stripes, is always lying on the litter with a pipe between his teeth. He has a grim, surly, battered-looking face, overhanging eyebrows which give him the expression of a sheep-dog of the steppes, and a red nose; he is short and looks thin and scraggy, but he is of imposing deportment and his fists are vigorous.

He belongs to the class of simple-hearted, practical, and dull-witted people, prompt in carrying out orders, who like discipline better than anything in the world, and so are convinced that it is their duty to beat people.

He showers blows on the face, on the chest, on the back, on whatever comes first, and is convinced that there would be no order in the place if he did not. Next you come into a big, spacious room which fills up the whole lodge except for the entry. Here the walls are painted a dirty blue, the ceiling is as sooty as in a hut without a chimney--it is evident that in the winter the stove smokes and the room is full of fumes.

The windows are disfigured by iron gratings on the inside. The wooden floor is grey and full of splinters. As one of Chekhov's longer and more politicized stories, Ward No. It explores the conflict between reality and philosophy—namely, how people intellectualize reality to justify their own inaction.

These two conflicting ideas are personified in the lunatic Gromov and the apathetic Dr. A die-hard realist, Gromov declares that Rabin's isolationism is only "laziness, fakirism and stupefaction. In particular, we see that the doctor retreats into the comfort of "rationalization" to assuage his own conscience. As he remarks to Gromov, there is "nothing but idle chance" in his being a doctor and in Gromov being an asylum patient.

Rabin thus justifies his indifference to others' plight by suggesting that everything is subject to chance. This doctrine is both unconvincing and heartless, and the author seems to scorn Rabin's philosophy. We see how Rabin, a self-confessed stoic, is forced to confront pain and loneliness. Ultimately, goaded on by Gromov, the doctor ends up condemning the senseless reality of suffering and rejecting his previous philosophy. The tale's supreme irony is that this conversion occurs within an asylum that the protagonist had held to be permissible, on the grounds that it was provided for by chance.

But ward no. The porter Nikita monitors his inmates like a prison warden; Moiseika represents the capitalist mindset with his fascination for collecting money; and Gromov personifies society's activist element, railing against injustice. This paranoid lunatic condemns the status quo: Gromov is a radical who dares to challenge what David Margarshack terms Rabin's "non- resistance to evil. Chekhov was profoundly affected by his experiences at the prison, where he surveyed the inmates and witnessed first- hand the horrors of prison life.

It thus comes as no surprise to see the author challenging society's dehumanization of criminals and lunatics in Ward No. Everyt hing that he b rings back Nikita takes from him for his own benefit. The soldier does. Moiseika likes to make himself useful. He gives his companions water, and cov ers them up. He acts in. Ivan Dmitritch Gromov, a man of thirty- three, who is a ge ntleman by birt h, and has been a. He either lies. He is alway s excited, agitated, a nd overwrought b y a sort of vague, undef ined.

The faintest rustle in the entry or shout in the yard is enough to make him raise. And at such times his face expresses the utmost uneasiness and repulsion.

I like his broad face with its high cheek-bon es, always pale and unhappy, a nd reflecting, as. His grima ces are. When anyone drops a button or a spoon, he jumps up from his bed quickly. Besides his continually overwroug ht condition and his grimaces, his madness shows itself.

Sometimes in th e evenings he wr aps h imself in his dressing-. It seems as though he is in a violent fever. From th e. But soon the desire to speak ge ts the upper hand of ever y consideration, and he will let.

His talk is disordered and fev erish like. When he talks yo u. It is difficult to reproduce on paper his insane. He speaks of the baseness of mankind, of vio lence trampling on justice, of the glorious.

It makes a disorderl y, incohe rent. Some twelve or fifteen ye ars ago an official call ed Gromov, a highly respectable and. H e had. When Sergey was a student in his fourth year he was taken ill. Within a week of. Sergey 's funer al the old father was put on trial for fraud and misappropriation, and he died.

The house, with all their belongings, w as. Hitherto in his father's lifetime, Iv an Dmitritch, who was studying in the University of. Petersburg, had re ceived an allowance of sixt y or seventy roubles a month, and had had no. He had to spend his. Ivan D mitritch could. Here, through int erest, he obtained the post of teacher in the district school, but could not.

His mother. He was for six months without work, living on nothing but bread and water ; then he. H e kept this post until he was dismissed owing to his illnes s.

He had never ev en in his y oun g student days given the impression of being perf ectly. He had alw ays been pale, thin, and given to catching cold; he ate little and slept.

A si ngle gl ass of wine went to his head and made him hy sterical. H e always had a. He always spok e with contempt of. He spoke in a loud tenor, with heat, and invariably. Whatever one talked to him about he alway s brou ght it round to the same subject:. In his. He alway s spoke with passion and enthusiasm of women and of love, but he had. In spite of the severity of his judgm ents and his nervousness, he was liked, and behind his. Hi s innate refinement and readiness to be of.

Moreover , he was well. He had read a g reat deal. He would sit at the club, nervously pulling at his beard and. It must. At home he. One autumn morning Iv an Dmitritch, turning up the collar of his gre atcoat and splashing. H e was in a gloomy mood, as he always was in the. In one of the side-streets he was met by two convicts in fetters and four soldiers. I van Dm i tritch had very often met convicts before, and the y.

It suddenl y s eemed to him for some reason that. After visiting. At home he could not get the convicts or the. In the evening he did not light his. He did not know of any harm he had done, and could be. It was not without good reason that the. A judicial mistake is very possible a s legal proceedings are conduc t ed nowaday s,.

People who have an official, professional. With thi s formal, soulless attitude to human. Only the time spent on. Then you may look in v ain for justice and protection in this dirty, wret ched little town.

And, indeed, is it not absurd even to think. In the morning Iv an Dmitritch got up from his bed in a state of horror, with cold.

Since his gloom y thoughts of y esterda y had haunted him so long, he thought, it must be that. They could not, indeed, have come into his mind without any. A policeman walking slowly passed by the windows: that was not for nothing. Here were. Why were they silent?

And agonizing days. Everyone who passed by the windows or c ame into. At midday the chief of the police usually drove. Ivan Dmitritch started at. He could not sleep for whol e nights in. Fact s and common. It might be compa red wi th the story of a. I n the end Ivan Dmitritch, s eeing it was. He began to avoid p eople and to seek solitude. His official work had been distasteful to him.

He was afraid they would somehow get him into. It is strang e that his imagination had never at other times been so. In the spring when the snow melted there w ere found in the ravine near the cemet ery two. Nothing wa s talked of but these bodies and their unknown murdere rs.

That people might not think he had been guilty of the crime, Ivan Dmitritch wa lked about. He sat in the cellar all day and then. He stood in the middle of the room till daybreak, l istening without. Ver y earl y in the morning, befo re sunrise, some workmen came into the house.

Ivan Dmitritch knew perfectly well that they ha d come to mend the stove in the kitchen, but. He slipped stealthily.

He was stopped and brought home, and his landlady sent for a doctor. Docto r Andrey. Yefimitch, of whom we shall have more to sa y h ereafter, pre scribed cold compresses on his. As he. He could not sleep at night,. Andrey Yefimitch's orders, transfer red to Ward No.

Within a year Ivan Dmitritch was completely forgotten in the town, and his books, heaped. Ivan Dmitritch's neighbour on the lef t hand is, as I h ave said already , the Jew Moiseika; his. This is a motionless, gluttonous, unclean. An ac ri d, stifling stench. Nikita, who has to clean up after him, beats him terribly with all his might, not sparing his.

The fifth and last inhabitant of Ward No. To judge from the cl ear, cheerful look in his calm and intelligent eye s, he has some pleas ant. He has under his pillow. Someti mes he goes to the window, and. Andrey Yefimitch Ragin is the head doctor of a small town and although his position is favorable, he finds himself distressed with the mediocrity surrounding him.

His deep desire to be submerged in intellectual conversation is satisfied by one of the patients in the mental ward adjacent to the hospital. This ward consists of five patients, referred to as lunatics, and a behavior enforcing soldier.