The First-class Passenger Page #3

"The First-class Passenger" is a short story by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov that revolves around the interactions and reflections of a traveler in a train compartment. The story delves into themes of class, human behavior, and societal norms as the protagonist observes the dynamics between fellow passengers. Chekhov’s keen eye for detail and his ability to capture the complexities of human relationships are evident as the narrative unfolds, highlighting moments of introspection and the subtle absurdities of life. Through this vignette, Chekhov examines the distinctions between social status and personal identity, ultimately prompting readers to reflect on their own perceptions of class and humanity.

								

have become celebrated if the rumor had not been spread over the earth
that he had been killed in a duel, gone out of his mind, been sent into
exile, or had cheated at cards?"

The first-class passenger was so excited that he dropped his cigar out
of his mouth and got up.

"Yes," he went on fiercely, "and side by side with these people I can
quote you hundreds of all sorts of singers, acrobats, buffoons, whose
names are known to every baby. Yes!"

The door creaked, there was a draught, and an individual of forbidding
aspect, wearing an Inverness coat, a top-hat, and blue spectacles,
walked into the carriage. The individual looked round at the seats,
frowned, and went on further.

"Do you know who that is?" there came a timid whisper from the furthest
corner of the compartment.

"That is N. N., the famous Tula cardsharper who was had up in connection
with the Y. bank affair."

"There you are!" laughed the first-class passenger. "He knows a Tula
cardsharper, but ask him whether he knows Semiradsky, Tchaykovsky, or
Solovyov the philosopher--he'll shake his head.... It swinish!"

Three minutes passed in silence.

"Allow me in my turn to ask you a question," said the vis-a-vis timidly,
clearing his throat. "Do you know the name of Pushkov?"

"Pushkov? H'm! Pushkov.... No, I don't know it!"

"That is my name,..." said the vis-a-vis,, overcome with embarrassment.
"Then you don't know it? And yet I have been a professor at one of the
Russian universities for thirty-five years,... a member of the Academy
of Sciences,... have published more than one work...."

The first-class passenger and the vis-a-vis looked at each other and
burst out laughing.
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