Мы отдохнем, мы отдохнем

And so to the theatre. The West Yorkshire Playhouse has a new production of an old play, Chekhov's 'Uncle Vanya'. I'd never seen it before and came away somewhat baffled. On the surface it appears to be about a group of Russian bourgeoisie getting bored, drinking and carrying on frustrated, unconsummated love affairs while the peasants do all the work. On closer inspection that's pretty much all it seems to be about underneath as well.

It's possible that Chekhov is expounding the sort of existentialist argument being made elsewhere at the time, or possibly he is drawing a moral about the dignity of work. More likely I suspect he was just painting a mood; what the Russians call настроение. Does anyone remember listening to 'tone poems' which to a philistine like me simply meant a piece of music with no tune? This is a play with no narrative arc - despite quite extravagant and theatrical things happening. The Reduced Shakespeare Company apparently did a three-line version of the play - it can be found in its entirety on the play's Wikipedia page - which I think falls into the category 'cruel, but fair'.

I went to a preview and afterwards my friend the theatre critic of the Morning Star tweeted me to ask what she could expect on press night. Given the likely political views of her readers - they'd have to be pretty hard core tankies to still be hanging in there - I would imagine that seeing it for themselves they'd just see it as confirmation that the 1917 revolution was both necessary and overdue. And on this issue at least I would agree with them.