One of the characters in this scene, Firs, an aged manservant of the household, is a prime beacon for the retention of the past. The eventual downfall of his employer Lyubov is foreshadows by his own physical decline early on in the excerpt. His archaic choice of words, such as when he calls another servant an “addlepate”, complements his inability to adopt modern idiom and reflects his generally old-fashioned mentality. He claims that, “In the old days we used to have generals, barons, admirals, dancing at our balls but now we send for the post office clerk and the station master…”. The use of asyndetic listing establishes his seemingly immovable confidence in the glory of days gone by, the effect enforced by juxtaposing the qualities of the past with the flaws of the present. The past is made to seem much more venerable through the mention of high-end officials and nobles, which strongly contrast with the far less glamorous members of the proletariat associated with the present. As Firs rants through the scene, he is effectively established as a one-dimensional figure with a consistent inability to let go of the past. As his conservativeness obstructs his capacity to absorb the potential loss of the cherry orchard, readers are left with a sense of uncertainty with respect to his fate.
Similar yet more significant in the scene is Lyubov herself, who is “overcome” and faints at the news of the sale of the orchard. Her incapacity to accept the circumstances and her loss of something so close to her heart restricts her from fully obtaining closure. Upon hearing the first part of the news from her brother Gayev, she inquires “sold to whom?” giving readers an impression of the fixation of her thoughts revolving around the orchard. The distress and grief that she feels is made evident through numerous stage directions: in page 372, she talks “impatiently, through tears”; she “sinks into a chair and weeps bitterly” when she hears of Lopakhim’s purchase of the estate in page 376. Much like her loyal employee Firs, Lyubov finds herself at remarkable physical unease at the latest development. As an atmosphere of ambiguity is established around the suffering woman, the reader can either see her as a devastated victim of circumstances or a short-sighted fool who is utterly oblivious to them.
On the opposite end of the spectrum lies Lopakhim, the wealthy and tenacious businessman who has just bought the orchard. As he makes his entrance into the scene, he casually neglects a recent and noticeably severe injury, displaying no visible pain. The source of his sudden vitality is revealed as, appearing to bask in the glow of his satisfaction and joy, he waits until the last possible moment to break the news of his aforementioned pursuit, effectively bringing about the climax after a significant spike in suspense. When he does reveal his latest venture, it comes out in short, brief phrases that inflect promptness and sets the dialogue at a very fast pace, making his excitement very obvious despite the apparent misery of the others. His repetition of exclamatory phrases and statements throughout his elated monologue reflect his prominent state of euphoria: “The cherry orchard is now mine! ...God in Heaven!” The fact that he has successfully adopted the situation and has found is place in it provides his character with a sense of finality that contrasts from the mood seen in the earlier pages of the scene. As the facts come around, the reader notices the difference between Lopakhim’s animated attitude and the physical bankruptcy of the others, a difference that parallels his positive sense of purpose and the dramatic indecision of Lyubov and Gayev. He now finds himself the owner of the estate in which his parents were once serfs, a significant fact that acts as a vehicle for the dynamic aspect of his own character. As a result of his meaningful initiative, Lopakhim is pegged as a figure that has no trouble flowing with the current of time towards the future.
As the reader approaches the end of the passage, the underlying irony of the scene, evoked by the emotional extremes shown between characters, serves to masterfully convey a message of morals. Through the use of diction and syntax specific to each figure, Chekov successfully creates an intensely paced series of dialogues that provide a subtle yet clear indication as to who receive closure after the turn of events and who do not. The physical health of each character acts as a conceptual metaphor for their individual tone: while Lopakhim is elated and seemingly immune to pain, Lyubov actually loses consciousness and at the same time Firs appears to be nearing his final moments. As the climax of the play finally arrives, Chekovs reveals the true nature of each character and thus effectively conveys the theme of closure versus ambiguity.
Work Cited:
Chekov, Anton. The Major Plays. New York: Signet Classics, 1964. 405. Print.