Largely confined to Yalta by now, Chekhov complained that it was a “warm Siberia” and felt that he was trapped and shut off from the world. At the age of 40, in 1900, it was to the great surprise of friends and family that he had discreetly married the Moscow Art Theatre actress Olga Knipper. He’d had many relationships and flirtations in the past and was known for disengaging himself whenever the woman became too demanding or clingy. The relationship with Olga was both high-spirited - she was his “kitten,” his “horsie,” his “darling crocodile” - and conveniently remote, for she had to spend her time in Moscow while he had to spend his in Yalta. On those terms, their marriage was a success.

 

Chekhov’s villa, today a museum, became a Mecca for young writers, fans, touring acting companies, and freeloaders. Chekhov’s health continued to deteriorate. His finals works “The Bishop” (1902), “Betrothed” (1903) and Cherry Orchard (1904) offer more acceptance of the cynical nature of life. They also reveal an almost musical attention to the structure and sound of words.

 

Chekhov died at age 44 on July 2, 1904. Shortly before his death, the doctors recommended putting an ice pack on his heart. “You don’t put ice on an empty heart,” Chekhov protested. When they suggested a glass of champagne, his last words came, “It’s been a long time since I’ve drunk champagne.”

 

Chekhov’s obsequies were a comedy of errors he might have appreciated. The railway carriage bearing his body to St. Petersburg was labelled “Fresh Oysters,” and, at the Novodevichy cemetery in Moscow, the bystanders spent more time ogling the controversial author Maxim Gorky and the bass singer Fyodor Shalyapin than in mourning the deceased. Finally, and inadvertently, Chekhov’s funeral procession became entangled with that of General Keller, a military hero who had been shipped home from the Far East. Chekhov’s friends were startled to hear an army band accompanying the remains of a man who had always been annoyed by grand gestures.