Chekhov Lives!

Though he seems to have lost a transliterated H over the years, Anton Chekhov recently gave a reading at the Union Square Barnes & Noble in New York.
After I finished my first short story, the crowed applauded.  I then told the following anecdote:

"Under Communists in Russia I could not talk to my friends like I am talking to you, my friends.  KGB was everywhere.  If you went to restaurant to eat and talk the waiter was probably KGB.  If you went to library to talk, then librarian went, 'Shhhhh...'[holding two fingers in front of my lips].  And, if librarian did not say to shush, she [I cupped my hand around my ear as if to hear a whisper] was listening because she was KGB.  The only safe place to walk and talk was the one place nobody was listening or watching…the graveyard."

I then began to read "In the Graveyard".
It seems to me this could be a way to increase appreciation of various writers who deserve more attention. Perhaps we could start having national tours. Imagine Borges and Philip K. Dick together...

(via Metafilter)

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