Today I want to tell you a story about one of the greatest writers in history. A man who changed the paradigm of storytelling. A man whose work was so impactful, that even if you haven’t heard of him… you’ve heard of his legacy.
The Gun in the First Act is the cocktail I have made for you inspired by the writings and life of Anton Chekhov, the Russian playwright whose work and philosophy continue to inspire and impress to this day. It is made with crème de violette, Russian vodka, and vanilla vodka.
Anton was born on January 29, 1860 in Taganrog, Russia where he would proceed to have a rather difficult upbringing. His father, a man named Pavel, was a hypocrite who played pious and devoted to the crowds in their community but who was harsh and abusive at home. Anton himself would later say, “Let me ask you to recall that it was despotism and lying that ruined your mother’s youth. Despotism and lying so mutilated our childhood that it’s sickening and frightening to think about it. Remember the horror and disgust we felt in those times when Father threw a tantrum at dinner over too much salt in the soup and called Mother a fool.”
Around the time Anton claimed his independence and left for university in Moscow, Pavel declared bankruptcy. So, with a family in need AND while busy studying medicine (something which he practiced his whole life and considered his primary profession), he picked up a pen and started submitting short stories to different publications in order to help support his family back home. Most people don’t gain fame for their side hustle. Even famous YouTubers tend to invest in their channel as a full-time profession. But Anton was not most people. His writings did grant him fame, and a lot of it.
Sadly, shortly after graduating with a promising career and a successful passion, Anton contracted tuberculosis. He managed for a while, but ultimately passed away in 1904 at the age of 44.
But Anton’s legacy continued to spread, first across Russia and then to the Western world. What started out as some research and thoughts on the penal colony of Sakhalin led to his criticisms of government treatment of prisoners being published in As a Matter of Social Science in 1893 and 1894 which resulted in his channelling all the horrors he’d uncovered into a new short story called, The Murder, which inspired writers to continue his reflections and create their own works on the subject, such as the 2013 play, The Russian Doctor.
Through the power of his pen, Anton built an identity that continues to be befriended and explored to this day. He even set a new precedent for storytelling. You might have heard of it… especially if you’re a theater-lover. It’s called “Chekhov’s Gun.” See, a lot of things happen in our day-to-day lives that aren’t really pertinent to the person we’re becoming. We have a blue notebook. Not because blue is our favorite color or because it represents the depression we bury deep behind our social masks, but because Wal-Mart was all out of green ones and the semester starts tomorrow. Until Anton, some writers really wanted you to know all the details, whether they mattered or not. Anton disagreed
According to him, you “Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it’s not going to be fired, it shouldn’t be hanging there.” Or put more simply, never show a gun in act one unless you’re going to use it in act 3.
Sounds reasonable, right? But such a specific style of writing wasn’t as popular in Anton’s lifetime. Now? Now, it’s the standard. Maybe it’s because it just makes sense, or maybe its because he used this rule so effectively in two of his best works 1895’s The Seagull and 1897’s Ivanov.
Anton, my man, you have already been immortalized in your work, but today lets immortalize you in alcohol.
