ABSTRACT
This is the Stage Society's second Chekhovian experiment. . . . Their first, a year or two ago, was ‘The Cherry Orchard,’ and the result was merely confusion. You might have suspected that underneath what was then placed before you there might be some real work of art, but you could only be sure that this work, whatever else it might be, simply couldn't be what the actors tried to make out. Well, it must be a difficult thing for any English player to imagine himself into the skin of a Russian; worse of a decadent Russian; still worse of a Chekhovian decadent Russian.
