Uncle Vanya A
dull autumn day. In the garden, in the alley under the old poplar, a table is set for the tea. The samovar has an old nanny Marina. “Eat, Father,” she offers to the tea doctor Astrov. “I do not feel like it,” he replies.
Telegin appears, an impoverished landowner, nicknamed Waffles, who lives in the estate on a prigivala position: “The weather is charming, the birds sing, we all live in peace and harmony, what else do we need?” But it is precisely the consent of the world that does not exist in the estate. “Unsuccessful in this house,” Elena Andreevna will say twice, the wife of Professor Serebryakov, who came to the estate.
These sketchy, outwardly unreplied remarks, come into contact with a dialogical dispute and highlight the meaning of the intense drama experienced by the characters in the play.
Earned for ten years, lived in the county, Astrov. “I do not want anything, I do not need anything, I do not love anyone,” he complains to the nurse. Vynytskyi has changed, has broken. Previously, he, managing the estate, did not know a free minute. And now? “I became worse, because I’m lazy, I do nothing and just grumble like an old fuck…”
Vynitsky does not hide his envy of the retired professor, especially his success with women. Mother Voynitsky, Maria Vasilyevna, simply adores her son-in-law, the husband of her late daughter. Voynitsky
Then Voinitsky exposes the deeper and, it seems to him, the compelling reasons for his intolerant, irreconcilable attitude to the ex-professor: he considers himself cruelly deceived: “I adored this professor… I worked for him like a wolf… I was proud of him and his science, I lived and breathed it! God, now? … it’s nothing! The soap bubble! “
Around Serebryakov an atmosphere of intolerance, hatred, enmity is gathering. He irritates Astrov, and even his wife can hardly stand it. Everyone somehow heard the diagnosis of the disease, which amazed both the heroes of the play, and all their contemporaries: “… the world does not perish from robbers, not from fires, but from hatred, enmity, from all these small squabbles.” They, including Elena Andreevna herself, somehow forgot that Serebryakov is “the same as everyone else” and, like everyone else, can count on indulgence, on a compassionate attitude toward himself, especially since he suffers from gout, suffers from insomnia, is afraid of death. “Really,” he asks his wife, “I have no right to the late old age, to the attention of people to myself?” Yes, one must be merciful, Sonia, the daughter of Serebryakov, says from the first marriage. But he will hear this call and show sincere to Serebryakov,
But one old nurse could not and could not, of course, defuse the oppressive, fraught with a bad atmosphere. The conflict knot is so tightly tied that a culminating explosion occurs. Serebryakov gathers everyone in the living room to offer him the “measure” he invented: to sell the low-profit estate, to convert the money earned into interest-bearing securities, which would enable him to purchase a dacha in Finland.
Voinitsky in indignation: Serebryakov allows himself to dispose of the estate, which actually and legally belongs to Sonya; he did not think about the fate of Voynitsky, who managed the estate twenty years, receiving for that beggarly money; did not think about the fate of Maria Vasilyevna, so selflessly devoted to the professor!
Indignant, furious Wenitsky shoots Serebryakov, shoots twice and misses both times.
Frightened by the deadly danger, only accidentally passed him, Serebryakov decides to return to Kharkov. Moves to his small estate Astrov, to, as before, to treat the peasants, to engage in a garden and a forest nursery. Fading love intrigues. Elena Andreevna does not have the courage to answer Astrov’s passion for her. When parting, she, admittedly, admits that she was carried away by the doctor, but “a little bit”. She embraces him “impetuously,” but with an eye. But Sonya is finally convinced that her, such ugly, Astrov can not fall in love.
Life in the homestead returns to its own place. “Again we will live, as it was, in the old way”, – the nurse dreams. Without consequences, the conflict between Voynitsky and Serebryakov remains. “You will be accurately getting what you received,” Professor Voynitsky reassured him. “Everything will be the same as before.” And Astrov, Serebryakov did not manage to leave, as Sonia hastens Voinitsky: “Well, Uncle Vanya, let’s do something.” The lamp lights up, the inkwell fills up, Sonia scrolls through the office book, Uncle Vanya writes one account, the other: “On February 2, twenty pounds of lean oil…” Nanny sits in a chair and knits, Maria Vasilievna plunges into reading another brochure…
It would seem that the expectations of the old nurse had come true: everything was as before. But the play is built in such a way that it constantly – in both big and small – deceives the expectations of both its heroes and readers. Looking forward to, for example, music from Elena Andreevna, a graduate of the conservatory (“I want to play… I have not played for a long time, I will play and cry…”), and plays the Waffle guitar… The characters are arranged so, the move plot events takes such a direction, dialogues and replicas are fused with such semantic, often subtextual roll calls that the traditional question “Who is to blame?” is pushed to the periphery from the proscenium, giving way to her question “What is to blame?”. It seems to Voynitsky that his life was ruined by Serebryakov. He hopes to start a “new life”. But Astrov dissipates this “exalting deception”: “Our position, yours and mine, hopelessly. In all the district there were only two decent, intelligent people: I and you. For some ten years, life is philistine, life despicable us; she poisoned our blood with her rotten vapors, and we became just as vulgar as everyone else. “
In the finale of the play, however, Voinitsky and Sonya dream of the future, but from the final monologue of Sony, there is a desperate sorrow and a sense of aimless life: “We, Uncle Vanya, will live, we will patiently endure the trials that destiny will send us, we will dutifully die and there, behind the coffin, we will say that we suffered, we cried, that we were bitter, and God will have mercy on us. We will hear the angels, we will see the whole sky in diamonds… We will rest! (The watchman is playing softly. Maria Vasilievna writes on the margins of the pamphlet, Marina knits a stocking.) We will rest! (Zana The EU is slowly lowered.) “