Classics and the Western Canon discussion

For this week’s interim read, we have a short story — Alexander Pushkin’s The Queen of Spades written in 1833.

You can read this haunting story here:  https://shortstoryproject.com/stories...  It’s also available with dramatic illustrations on Project Gutenberg:  https://www.gutenberg.org/files/55024...   Or you can listen to it via YouTube:  https://youtu.be/iYvpDKRUz9E

What are your thoughts? Is this just a ghost story? Is it a ghost story at all?

When the Countess visits, it's odd that she scuffs her slippers and has to use the door. Isn't she supposed to be a phantom?

Roger wrote: "When the Countess visits, it's odd that she scuffs her slippers and has to use the door. Isn't she supposed to be a phantom?"

Good points! She also suddenly seems very concerned about Lizaveta contrary to how she treated her in real life.

I agree with Roger. When do ghosts make shuffling sounds with their loose slippers and have to open doors to enter rooms instead of passing through them? Herman must have imagined this.

I was reminded of Marley's visit to Scrooge when the Countess says,

“I have come to you against my will,”. . .“but I was commanded to grant your request.

Who or what commanded and forced her to do this against her will?

Or is Lisaveta playing the ghost of the countess in revenge against Herman for using her to get to the countess and then killing the countess? If it is Lisaveta, who or what commanded and forced her to do this against her will; how did she learn the secret of the cards? Is there a secret of the cards?

Pushkin must have enjoyed writing this one.

It does remind me a lot of the denouement of his Eugene Onegin .

I do think this was a ghost story. Short and a lot of fun.

A fantastically entertaining story after it gets underway!

I like the dramatic moment when Hermann's intentions are revealed as he opens the door on the right and waits in the wrong room. Maybe I should have known what was afoot based on the conversation at the card party earlier, but I was a bit mystified. It was a shock when he asked her for those cards. I mean, he is completely crazy to pop up in the dead of the night in the bedroom of an elderly lady to ask her this! I guess given her social status, there was no other way he could have approached her? It seems that surely there must have been something else he could have done that was a little less shocking?

And a little earlier, the weird details of the Countess' entry room with the Dresden shepherdesses and paintings and various expensive knick-knacks. It's the perfect place for creepy happenings at night.

Whether at the end, the aged spectral figure who comes to Hermann is a ghost or a hallucination or trick of some kind, it's deeply satisfying for him to get some comeuppance as he has no remorse at all. He doesn't feel the least bit guilty for causing this woman's death! And it seems just that he should end his days in a madhouse for it.

Another thing I liked was the mild social/literary commentary, like this:

     ""Paul," cried the Countess from behind the screen, "send me a new novel; no matter what. Only see that it is not in the style of the present day."
     "What style would you like, grandmother?"
     "A novel in which the hero strangles neither his father nor his mother, and in which no one gets drowned. . . ."

Depending on Pushkin's opinions, it seems like either a playful joke about the occurences in his own work or a mild dig on his part against his writing contemporaries and their dismal subjects.

There were a lot of details in this story that confused me though:

1. Some of the card playing terminology confused me. I could get the gist, but I didn't understand exactly what was happening. What does it mean to "back the red" or to have "lost on parole"? I thought maybe "back the red" is some kind of bet where a player bets on red, like in roulette, but that doesn't seem to match the context.

2. What's going on with the corners of the cards in chapter 6? Were some of the players trying to cheat by marking cards, and if so, why is Tchekalinski so relaxed about it? Is he so rich, he just doesn't care? "Tchekalinski waited patiently to allow the winners time to double their stakes, paid what he had lost, listened politely to all observations, and, more politely still, put straight the corners of cards, when in a fit of absence some one had taken the liberty of turning them down."

3. Finally, how does this card game work where you can choose the cards? In most card games, there's an element of chance as to which cards you get, but here, you can ask for specific ones? It's kind of weird. So, he's able to ask for the three specific cards? It seems like if you could ask for specific cards, wouldn't that alter the odds, and how could that possibly work as a card game? I'm not sure if they're playing what he calls "faro" or something else here. Does anyone understand how this game where you choose cards can work?

Wikipedia has a helpful explanation of how the card game faro was played:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Faro_(b...

Basically, the players select a playing card to put their money on. The dealer then plays two cards from their deck — if the player’s card matches the face value on the left, they win. If it matches the one on the right, they lose.

According to the Wikipedia article, cheating was frequent, which I imagine is why the player’s card was kept face down until after the two cards are dealt.

I was thinking about the odds here as supporting the ghost theory since the odds of picking three correct cards in a row seem rather high!

[This explanation of faro doesn’t match all the details in the story because the suit of the card seems to be essential, too. Perhaps, they were playing a different version of the game]

Susan wrote: "Wikipedia has a helpful explanation of how the card game faro was played:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Faro_(b...

Basically, the players select a playing card to put their money on. The..."

Thanks Susan, that helps!

The rules in the Wikipedia article still seem a little confusing/convoluted in parts, but I get the general idea now. I guess it is like a card version of Roulette where multiple people ("punters") are placing bets on what will come up next.

David wrote: "I agree with Roger. When do ghosts make shuffling sounds with their loose slippers and have to open doors to enter rooms instead of passing through them? Herman must have imagined this.

I was remi..."

Interesting suggestion! That makes three theories — 1) Hermann was really visited by the ghost of the Countess, 2) Hermann dreamed or hallucinated the visit, or 3) someone played the ghost role for revenge on Hermann.

The strongest support for #1 to my mind is the accuracy of her instructions on which cards to play. The visitation gives him the right information, but he plays the wrong card.

Lily wrote: "Pushkin must have enjoyed writing this one.

It does remind me a lot of the denouement of his Eugene Onegin."

I certainly enjoyed reading it ;). Pushkin is great at the unexpected ending.

There were a few period references in the story that were unfamiliar to me that I had to look up.

One was Mongolfier's balloons in chapter 3: apparently they were the French brothers who invented the first practical hot air balloon. So colorful!

https://www.museumofflight.org/exhibi...

Susan wrote: "Roger wrote: "When the Countess visits, it's odd that she scuffs her slippers and has to use the door. Isn't she supposed to be a phantom?"

Good points! She also suddenly seems very concerned abou..."

I agree. After her death, the Countess' actions seemed more likely a figment of the imagination of a man gone crazy through his obsession than those of a true phantom.

I love the pacing of this story, and the way Pushkin plays with narrative time. Great story.

Is there a suggestion that the Countess really is Hermann's mother? I may be reading too much into it, but there is the comment at the funeral by the chamberlain that Hermann is the Countess' illegitimate son. This might go along with Hermann's thought as he descends the secret staircase that some years ago one of the Countess' lovers may have descended that same staircase, "his hair dressed a l'oiseau royal, his three-cornered hat pressed to his heart..." Could that young man have been the Count St. Germain, who gave the secret of the cards to the Countess? And could he have been Hermann's father?

Ken wrote: "I do think this was a ghost story. Short and a lot of fun."

Another vote for the ghost!

Greg wrote: "A fantastically entertaining story after it gets underway!

I like the dramatic moment when Hermann's intentions are revealed as he opens the door on the right and waits in the wrong room. Maybe I..."

I agree Hermann’s behavior is very odd, especially in his confrontation with the Countess. After all, why should she tell him her secret when she won’t even tell her grandson? And Hermann claims he loves gambling, but his obsession is with a sure thing — he only wants to gamble if he knows that he will win — which seems like a paradox. He almost seems like a sociopath in his avaricious pursuit of this “sure thing” based only on a story.

Greg wrote: "Susan wrote: "Wikipedia has a helpful explanation of how the card game faro was played:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Faro_(b...

Basically, the players select a playing card to put their..."

I think your comparison of faro to a card version of roulette is a helpful way to think of it.

I found a note about the bending of corners — it was called “paroli” and indicated that the player wanted to double his bets on the same card. A different translation of the story (by Anthony Briggs) explains Tchekalinski’s action as “even more generously straightening the odd corners of a card that may have been bent over inadvertently.” So, he’s apparently making sure people don’t double their bets by mistake.

Susan wrote: "I found a note about the bending of corners — it was called “paroli” and indicated that the player wanted to double his bets on the same card. A different translation of the story (by Anthony Briggs) explains Tchekalinski’s action as “even more generously straightening the odd corners of a card that may have been bent over inadvertently.” So, he’s apparently making sure people don’t double their bets by mistake.."

Thanks Susan! This helps a lot!

It's the first card game I've heard of where players are actually invited to fold or mark cards. Faro is an outlier in so many ways (at least in comparison to the gambling games still played in modern times that I'm more familiar with). It's quite fascinating!

Greg wrote: “ Faro is an outlier in so many ways (at least in comparison to the gambling games still played in modern times that I'm more familiar with). It's quite fascinating! “

For anyone who is interested in seeing a demonstration of how faro is played, here’s a helpful YouTube video I found: https://youtu.be/KsUfrhYZd30

The demo is at the beginning, and there is also a section later on showing how dealers and players could cheat.

I was surprised to learn that faro was big in the American Wild West and that gunslinger Doc Holliday had a job as a faro dealer.

Courtney wrote: “ After her death, the Countess' actions seemed more likely a figment of the imagination of a man gone crazy through his obsession than those of a true phantom.”

One question I kept asking myself is when did Hermann cross the line from sanity to insanity — was it when he began his plot to meet the Countess? during the interview with the Countess? at the funeral? The idea that the Countess’ death is the dividing line makes sense to me.

I was surprised to find out that the Count St Germain was a real person and well-known in the European society of his time. Born around 1712, he died in 1784. He was apparently a legendary figure; a note I found says “Various myths arose about him, to do with his interest in mysticism and alchemy, his membership in secret societies, his being the Wandering Jew, a prophet, and an “Ascended Master.” In other words, he was just the person to know a mysterious secret when the Countess needed one.

Wikipedia’s take: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Count_o...

“Thomas wrote: Is there a suggestion that the Countess really is Hermann's mother? I may be reading too much into it, but there is the comment at the funeral by the chamberlain that Hermann is the Countess' illegitimate son. This might go along with Hermann's thought as he descends the secret staircase that some years ago one of the Countess' lovers may have descended that same staircase, "his hair dressed a l'oiseau royal, his three-cornered hat pressed to his heart..." Could that young man have been the Count St. Germain, who gave the secret of the cards to the Countess? And could he have been Hermann's father?"

Intriguing interpretation! The story does not give an explanation of the chamberlain’s remark, but we do know that Hermann was the last person to pay his respects at the funeral, after the family, guests, and even her domestic staff. Hermann chooses that timing which certainly seems appropriate for the man who caused her death, but it could also be seen as appropriate for someone of inferior social position like an illegitimate son.

I interpreted the chamberlain’s remark as one of the many ironies in the account of the funeral. Based on the events of the story, the chamberlain who heads the Countess’ staff has no idea who Hermann is or what he has done, but comes up with his statement to the Englishman based on his interpretation of Hermann’s behavior (coming last and falling on his back as if moved by grief). But the reader knows Hermann tripped and fell because he thought he saw the dead countess wink at him. And the Englishman doesn’t really care.

There is certainly ambiguity in the story and room for other interpretations of the chamberlain’s behavior.

Just for fun. The Queen of Spades has been filmed a number of times. It’s also been turned into opera, mostly notably by Tchaikovsky. Here’s a sampling, thanks to YouTube.

The trailer for a 1949 film version that Martin Scorsese calls “one of the few real classics of supernatural cinema”: https://youtu.be/7a-OyGGB7EE

The closing scene from Tchaikovsky’s opera (with subtitles):
https://youtu.be/EoflQpyJjwY.
(As you’ll see, he’s made a few changes to the story)