The Bishop by Anton Chekhov
"The Bishop" is a poignant short story by Anton Chekhov that explores the final days of Bishop Pyotr during the solemnity of Holy Week, a significant period in the Christian liturgical calendar. The narrative unfolds as the bishop grapples with illness, personal estrangement, and existential reflection. Throughout the story, he experiences an emotional and spiritual awakening, marked by his deepening isolation from both his congregation and his own identity. As he officiates at vespers, he perceives the faces of his congregation as a blur, symbolizing his disconnect from the community he serves.
The bishop's interactions, especially with his mother and niece, reveal a profound sense of loneliness and longing for genuine connection. As he confronts the realities of his clerical life and impending death, he finds fleeting moments of comfort in nature and the church, where he experiences a sense of continuity with his past. The narrative culminates in his acceptance of mortality, leading to a moment of peace just before his death. However, the story closes on a stark note, illustrating the bishop's eventual anonymity, as his passing goes largely unnoticed by the world around him. This narrative raises themes of spirituality, identity, and the often-overlooked human experience within the bounds of societal roles.
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The Bishop by Anton Chekhov
First published: "Arkhierey," 1902 (English translation, 1915)
Type of plot: Philosophical realism
Time of work: The late 1890's
Locale: A nameless Russian provincial capital
Principal Characters:
Bishop Pyotr , the suffering bishop of a diocese and the protagonistMarya Timofeevna , his motherKatya , his nieceFather Sisoy , his aide
The Story
Against the solemn background of Holy Week, the most important week in the liturgical year, Anton Chekhov recounts the last days in the life of the protagonist, Bishop Pyotr, including his illness, the accompanying crisis and "awakening," and death.
Bishop Pyotr officiates at vespers as the story opens on the eve of Palm Sunday. To the bishop, who is unwell, the congregation is an indistinguishable blur with "all faces alike," "heaving like the sea." That the congregation seems shrouded in mist suggests his isolation from his flock. Even as his own mother approaches him, he is unsure of her identity. When the bishop begins to weep, and the congregation with him, his tears are no doubt brought about by these imaginings of his mother as well as of his impending death. Suddenly the weeping stops and the narrator notes, "everything was as before"—words that are echoed at the end of the story following the bishop's death. On his return to the monastery, the bishop identifies with objects in nature even if these evoke sterility and deadness. To the bishop, "everything seemed kindly, youthful, akin . . . and one longed to think that so it would be always." Despite this desire for continuity of existence, his identification with such forms of nature strengthens the motif of his estrangement from his personal identity.
Returning to the monastery, the bishop rejoices to learn that his mother was indeed in town. The news quickens memories of his "sweet precious childhood . . . which seemed brighter, fuller, and more festive than it had really been"—a childhood when "joy was quivering in the air," when he had had "naïve faith," had been called Pavlushka, and had been "infinitely happy." His pleasant reverie is rudely interrupted by the snoring of his aide, Father Sisoy, in the adjoining room—a sound that to him suggests "loneliness, forlornness, even vagrancy." Descriptions of ominous nature—the "moon peeping" into the bishop's window and a "cricket chirping"—intensify this mood; in Chekhov, such images are often associated with death.
Chapter 2, which begins on Palm Sunday, describes the everyday routine of Bishop Pyotr's office, interrupted by lunch with Marya Timofeevna, his mother, and Katya, his niece. In this setting, surprisingly, his mother treats him as a bishop rather than as her son. Surprised and disappointed by his mother's reserve, the son once again "cannot recognize her," she who was so tender and sympathetic when he was ill as a child. Cut off from warmth and simple human intercourse, the bishop feels estranged from reality and is increasingly aware of his illness. Even as he overhears the banal conversation between his mother and Father Sisoy, he recalls the course of his clerical career. The life that, eight years before, seemed to him to have "no end in sight" has now "retreated far away into the mist as though it were a dream."
Chapter 3 further details the bishop's daily routine. Illness has intensified his sensitivity toward the clergy's lack of spirituality and the ignorance, triviality, and pettiness of his suppliants. People's awe at his rank annoys him. No one speaks to him "genuinely, simply, as to a human being." Church is now the only place where he feels peace. During Tuesday's vespers, the past rises before him again, and he recalls having heard in his youth the readings about the Bridegroom who comes at night and the Heavenly Mansion. He is satisfied with his success, acknowledges having faith, and contemplates life hereafter. However, some things remain unclear to him; he senses that something most important is still missing and that he does not want to die.
Chapter 4 opens with a lyric description of nature. Mention of "awakening trees smiling a welcome" foreshadows the bishop's "awakening" and identification with nature before dying. A visit from his eight-year-old niece, Katya, leads to genuine spontaneous communication. His mistaken impression of hearing the opening and shutting of doors, identified by Katya as the noise in his stomach, provokes his laughter and offers a moment of relief, yet it also indicates the progress of illness. His mother also visits him, observes that he is ill, and adds that, when Easter comes, he shall rest—words prophetic of his death the day before Easter. Similarly, the announcement that the horses are ready, that it is time for the Passion of the Lord, foreshadows the bishop's own approaching suffering and agony. Once again he finds relief in church, where he discovers a sense of continuity and thus a meaning to life—he sees the congregation as unchanged since the days of his childhood and senses identity in the church. At home, however, the feeling of oppression returns. He is even prepared "to give his life" merely to escape the monastery and the surrounding banality. His loneliness reaches its greatest intensity as he yearns for someone with whom he could talk openly. On the next day, Good Friday, final relief and release come in the form of a hemorrhage. He imagines himself thinner, weaker, and more insignificant than anyone and concludes "How good!" signifying his acceptance of death and the discovery of true peace. Realizing that the bishop is dying, his mother begins to comfort him and addresses him as her son, Pavlushka. However, he no longer hears her. Rather, having identified himself with nature, he imagines that he is a simple, ordinary man, free as a bird.
Easter Sunday, the day after his death, is celebrated by everyone with no particular notice of his passing. In fact, he is "completely forgotten," and some people do not believe of his mother that her son was a bishop. Thus, the bishop's deathbed vision of being at last a free man appears to agree with a reality where no one even remembers him.