Letter 89 - Revision history

Brett: Text replacement - "sovereign" to "Sovereign"

2024-02-24T21:50:12Z

Text replacement - "sovereign" to "Sovereign"

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:50, 24 February 2024
Line 19:		Line 19:
	\|Translated text={{right\|7 April 1866}}		\|Translated text={{right\|7 April 1866}}
	{{centre\|Brothers!}}		{{centre\|Brothers!}}
	Sorry for not writing in ages. I made the journey safely. The news of the assassination attempt on the ~~sovereign~~ reached our train while we were drinking tea at the station, but only in the vaguest form; we were all imagining that the ~~sovereign~~ had already died, and one lady sitting nearby even shed tears on this occasion, while another praised the extraordinary qualities of the future ~~sovereign~~'s soul. It was only in [[Moscow]] that I learned the facts. The ovations happening here are unimaginable; for example, at the Bolshoi Theatre on the third day they gave "A Life for the Tsar", but (as [[Laroche]] would say) it wasn't anything at all. As soon as the Poles appeared, the cry went up: "Down, down with the Poles", the choristers became flustered and fell silent, and the audience demanded the national anthem, which was sung 20 times. At the end a portrait of the ~~sovereign~~ was brought onto the stage, and then it all became an indescribable mess. I went directly from the railway station to lessons, and this was a good thing for me, i.e. I immediately sank into my prosaic Muscovite life. Naturally, I was received here very well; I had dinner with the Tarnovskys that same day, and then a musical evening, which I opened with the overture to "Ruslan and Lyudmila". The weather here is magnificent, it's as warm as June, and yesterday I went for a long stroll in the Aleksandrovsky Gardens. Every conversation now revolves around the attempt against the ~~sovereign~~, and in a single day Komissarov has become the greatest of celebrities. The English Club in [[Moscow]] unanimously elected him as an honorary member and sent him a golden ceremonial sword. I miss you quite a lot, and what's more, I've stupidly already begun to feverishly look forward to the summer, such that I keep counting the days and hours, and this will now poison my life because everything will seem to take ages. It seems to me that going to [[Petersburg]] is unthinkable, because from one conversation I had yesterday with [[Nikolay Rubinstein\|Rubinstein]] it turns out that financial circumstances won't permit me to do this. Last night something curious happened: I was staying at the Tarnovskys by myself with three women, and they forced me to dance with each of them in turn. I was so tired that I could barely make my way to my room. Kisses, write.		Sorry for not writing in ages. I made the journey safely. The news of the assassination attempt on the Sovereign reached our train while we were drinking tea at the station, but only in the vaguest form; we were all imagining that the Sovereign had already died, and one lady sitting nearby even shed tears on this occasion, while another praised the extraordinary qualities of the future Sovereign's soul. It was only in [[Moscow]] that I learned the facts. The ovations happening here are unimaginable; for example, at the Bolshoi Theatre on the third day they gave "A Life for the Tsar", but (as [[Laroche]] would say) it wasn't anything at all. As soon as the Poles appeared, the cry went up: "Down, down with the Poles", the choristers became flustered and fell silent, and the audience demanded the national anthem, which was sung 20 times. At the end a portrait of the Sovereign was brought onto the stage, and then it all became an indescribable mess. I went directly from the railway station to lessons, and this was a good thing for me, i.e. I immediately sank into my prosaic Muscovite life. Naturally, I was received here very well; I had dinner with the Tarnovskys that same day, and then a musical evening, which I opened with the overture to "Ruslan and Lyudmila". The weather here is magnificent, it's as warm as June, and yesterday I went for a long stroll in the Aleksandrovsky Gardens. Every conversation now revolves around the attempt against the Sovereign, and in a single day Komissarov has become the greatest of celebrities. The English Club in [[Moscow]] unanimously elected him as an honorary member and sent him a golden ceremonial sword. I miss you quite a lot, and what's more, I've stupidly already begun to feverishly look forward to the summer, such that I keep counting the days and hours, and this will now poison my life because everything will seem to take ages. It seems to me that going to [[Petersburg]] is unthinkable, because from one conversation I had yesterday with [[Nikolay Rubinstein\|Rubinstein]] it turns out that financial circumstances won't permit me to do this. Last night something curious happened: I was staying at the Tarnovskys by myself with three women, and they forced me to dance with each of them in turn. I was so tired that I could barely make my way to my room. Kisses, write.
	}}		}}
	{{DEFAULTSORT:Letter 0089}}		{{DEFAULTSORT:Letter 0089}}

Tony at 12:52, 25 January 2024

2024-01-25T12:52:47Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 14:52, 25 January 2024
Line 19:		Line 19:
	\|Translated text={{right\|7 April 1866}}		\|Translated text={{right\|7 April 1866}}
	{{centre\|Brothers!}}		{{centre\|Brothers!}}
	Sorry for not writing in ages. I made the journey safely. The news of the assassination attempt on the sovereign reached our train while we were drinking tea at the station, but only in the vaguest form; we were all imagining that the sovereign had already died, and one lady sitting nearby even shed tears on this occasion, while another praised the extraordinary qualities of the future sovereign's soul. It was only in [[Moscow]] that I learned the facts. The ovations happening here are unimaginable; for example, at the Bolshoi Theatre on the third day they gave "A Life for the Tsar", but (as [[Laroche]] would say) it wasn't anything at all. As soon as the Poles appeared, the cry went up: "Down, down with the Poles", the choristers became flustered and fell silent, and the audience demanded the national anthem, which was sung 20 times. At the end a portrait of the sovereign was brought onto the stage, and then it all became an indescribable mess. I went directly from the railway station to lessons, and this was a good thing for me, i.e. I immediately sank into my prosaic Muscovite life. Naturally, I was received here very well; I had dinner with the Tarnovskys that same day, and then a musical evening, which I opened with the overture to "Ruslan and Lyudmila". The weather here is magnificent, it's as warm as June, and yesterday I went for a long stroll in the Aleksandrovsky Gardens. Every conversation now revolves around the attempt against the sovereign, and in a single day Komissarov has become the greatest of celebrities. The English Club in [[Moscow]] unanimously elected him as an honorary member, and sent him a golden ceremonial sword. I miss you quite a lot, and what's more, I've stupidly already begun to feverishly look forward to the summer, such that I keep counting the days and hours, and this will now poison my life because everything will seem to take ages. It seems to me that going to [[Petersburg]] is unthinkable, because from one conversation I had yesterday with [[Nikolay Rubinstein\|Rubinstein]] it turns out that financial circumstances won't permit me to do this. Last night something curious happened: I was staying at the Tarnovskys by myself with three women, and they forced me to dance with each of them in turn. I was so tired that I could barely make my way to my room. Kisses, write.		Sorry for not writing in ages. I made the journey safely. The news of the assassination attempt on the sovereign reached our train while we were drinking tea at the station, but only in the vaguest form; we were all imagining that the sovereign had already died, and one lady sitting nearby even shed tears on this occasion, while another praised the extraordinary qualities of the future sovereign's soul. It was only in [[Moscow]] that I learned the facts. The ovations happening here are unimaginable; for example, at the Bolshoi Theatre on the third day they gave "A Life for the Tsar", but (as [[Laroche]] would say) it wasn't anything at all. As soon as the Poles appeared, the cry went up: "Down, down with the Poles", the choristers became flustered and fell silent, and the audience demanded the national anthem, which was sung 20 times. At the end a portrait of the sovereign was brought onto the stage, and then it all became an indescribable mess. I went directly from the railway station to lessons, and this was a good thing for me, i.e. I immediately sank into my prosaic Muscovite life. Naturally, I was received here very well; I had dinner with the Tarnovskys that same day, and then a musical evening, which I opened with the overture to "Ruslan and Lyudmila". The weather here is magnificent, it's as warm as June, and yesterday I went for a long stroll in the Aleksandrovsky Gardens. Every conversation now revolves around the attempt against the sovereign, and in a single day Komissarov has become the greatest of celebrities. The English Club in [[Moscow]] unanimously elected him as an honorary member and sent him a golden ceremonial sword. I miss you quite a lot, and what's more, I've stupidly already begun to feverishly look forward to the summer, such that I keep counting the days and hours, and this will now poison my life because everything will seem to take ages. It seems to me that going to [[Petersburg]] is unthinkable, because from one conversation I had yesterday with [[Nikolay Rubinstein\|Rubinstein]] it turns out that financial circumstances won't permit me to do this. Last night something curious happened: I was staying at the Tarnovskys by myself with three women, and they forced me to dance with each of them in turn. I was so tired that I could barely make my way to my room. Kisses, write.
	}}		}}
	{{DEFAULTSORT:Letter 0089}}		{{DEFAULTSORT:Letter 0089}}

Brett at 19:41, 23 December 2022

2022-12-23T19:41:07Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 21:41, 23 December 2022
Line 8:		Line 8:
	\|Notes=Manuscript copy in [[Klin]] (Russia): {{RUS-KLč}}		\|Notes=Manuscript copy in [[Klin]] (Russia): {{RUS-KLč}}
	}}		}}
	==Text==		==Text and Translation==
	Based on a handwritten copy in the [[Klin]] House-Museum Archive, which may contain differences in formatting and content from Tchaikovsky's original letter.		Based on a handwritten copy in the [[Klin]] House-Museum Archive, which may contain differences in formatting and content from Tchaikovsky's original letter.
	{{Lettertext		{{Lettertext
	\|Language=Russian		\|Language=Russian
	\|Translator=		\|Translator=Brett Langston
	\|Original text={{right\|7 апреля 1866}}		\|Original text={{right\|7 апреля 1866}}
	{{centre\|Братцы!}}		{{centre\|Братцы!}}
	Простите, что долго не писал. Путешествие совершил благополучно. Известие о покушении на государя дошло до нашего поезда уже на той станции, где мы пили чай, но только в очень неясном виде; мы уже вообразили, что государь умер, и одна близ сидевшая дама даже проливала по этому случаю слезы, а другая восхваляла необыкновенные качества души будущего государя. Только в Москве я узнал, в чем дело. Овации здесь происходят уму не воображаемые; напр[имер] в Большом театре третьего дни давали «Жизнь за царя», но его-то (как сказал бы Ларош) вовсе и не было. Как только появлялись поляки, так поднимался крик: «долой, долой поляков», хористы конфузились и умолкали, а публика требовала гимн, к[ото]рый и был пропет раз 20. В конце вынесли на сцену портрет государя, и далее уже нельзя описать, что была за кутерьма. С железной дороги я прямо попал на урок, и это подействовало на меня хорошо, т. е. я сразу опустился в; прозу моей московской жизни. Был принят здесь, конечно, весьма хорошо; у Тарновских в тот же день давался обед, а потом музыкальный вечер. который я открыл увертюрой из «Руслана и Людмилы», Погода здесь стоит великолепная, тепло, как в июне, и я вчера долго гулял по Александровскому саду. Разговоры все теперь вертятся на покушении против государя, и Комиссаров сделался в один день величайшею. знаменитостью; в московском Английском клубе его единодушно избрали в почётные члены и послали ему золотую дворянскую саблю. Скучаю я довольно сильно, и. что всего глупее, у меня уже началось лихорадочное ожидание лета, так что. я то и дело рассчитываю дни и часы, а это будет отравлять теперь мою жизнь, ибо всё будет казаться, что ещё очень долго. Об поездке в Петербург, кажется, нечего и думать, ибо из одного разговора, к[ото]рый я имел вчера с Рубинштейном, оказывается, что обстоятельства финансовые мне этого не дозволят. Вчера вечером случилось следующее курьёзное обстоятельство: я остался у Тарновских один с тремя женщинами, и они насильно заставили меня с ними танцевать вальс, причём каждая по очереди играла; я устал до того. что насилу добрел до своей комнаты. Целую, пишите.		Простите, что долго не писал. Путешествие совершил благополучно. Известие о покушении на государя дошло до нашего поезда уже на той станции, где мы пили чай, но только в очень неясном виде; мы уже вообразили, что государь умер, и одна близ сидевшая дама даже проливала по этому случаю слезы, а другая восхваляла необыкновенные качества души будущего государя. Только в Москве я узнал, в чем дело. Овации здесь происходят уму не воображаемые; напр[имер] в Большом театре третьего дни давали «Жизнь за царя», но его-то (как сказал бы Ларош) вовсе и не было. Как только появлялись поляки, так поднимался крик: «долой, долой поляков», хористы конфузились и умолкали, а публика требовала гимн, к[ото]рый и был пропет раз 20. В конце вынесли на сцену портрет государя, и далее уже нельзя описать, что была за кутерьма. С железной дороги я прямо попал на урок, и это подействовало на меня хорошо, т. е. я сразу опустился в; прозу моей московской жизни. Был принят здесь, конечно, весьма хорошо; у Тарновских в тот же день давался обед, а потом музыкальный вечер, который я открыл увертюрой из «Руслана и Людмилы». Погода здесь стоит великолепная, тепло, как в июне, и я вчера долго гулял по Александровскому саду. Разговоры все теперь вертятся на покушении против государя, и Комиссаров сделался в один день величайшею знаменитостью; в московском Английском клубе его единодушно избрали в почётные члены и послали ему золотую дворянскую саблю. Скучаю я довольно сильно, и, что всего глупее, у меня уже началось лихорадочное ожидание лета, так что, я то и дело рассчитываю дни и часы, а это будет отравлять теперь мою жизнь, ибо всё будет казаться, что ещё очень долго. Об поездке в Петербург, кажется, нечего и думать, ибо из одного разговора, к[ото]рый я имел вчера с Рубинштейном, оказывается, что обстоятельства финансовые мне этого не дозволят. Вчера вечером случилось следующее курьёзное обстоятельство: я остался у Тарновских один с тремя женщинами, и они насильно заставили меня с ними танцевать вальс, причём каждая по очереди играла; я устал до того, что насилу добрел до своей комнаты. Целую, пишите.

	\|Translated text=		\|Translated text={{right\|7 April 1866}}
			{{centre\|Brothers!}}
			Sorry for not writing in ages. I made the journey safely. The news of the assassination attempt on the sovereign reached our train while we were drinking tea at the station, but only in the vaguest form; we were all imagining that the sovereign had already died, and one lady sitting nearby even shed tears on this occasion, while another praised the extraordinary qualities of the future sovereign's soul. It was only in [[Moscow]] that I learned the facts. The ovations happening here are unimaginable; for example, at the Bolshoi Theatre on the third day they gave "A Life for the Tsar", but (as [[Laroche]] would say) it wasn't anything at all. As soon as the Poles appeared, the cry went up: "Down, down with the Poles", the choristers became flustered and fell silent, and the audience demanded the national anthem, which was sung 20 times. At the end a portrait of the sovereign was brought onto the stage, and then it all became an indescribable mess. I went directly from the railway station to lessons, and this was a good thing for me, i.e. I immediately sank into my prosaic Muscovite life. Naturally, I was received here very well; I had dinner with the Tarnovskys that same day, and then a musical evening, which I opened with the overture to "Ruslan and Lyudmila". The weather here is magnificent, it's as warm as June, and yesterday I went for a long stroll in the Aleksandrovsky Gardens. Every conversation now revolves around the attempt against the sovereign, and in a single day Komissarov has become the greatest of celebrities. The English Club in [[Moscow]] unanimously elected him as an honorary member, and sent him a golden ceremonial sword. I miss you quite a lot, and what's more, I've stupidly already begun to feverishly look forward to the summer, such that I keep counting the days and hours, and this will now poison my life because everything will seem to take ages. It seems to me that going to [[Petersburg]] is unthinkable, because from one conversation I had yesterday with [[Nikolay Rubinstein\|Rubinstein]] it turns out that financial circumstances won't permit me to do this. Last night something curious happened: I was staying at the Tarnovskys by myself with three women, and they forced me to dance with each of them in turn. I was so tired that I could barely make my way to my room. Kisses, write.
	}}		}}
	{{DEFAULTSORT:Letter 0089}}		{{DEFAULTSORT:Letter 0089}}

Brett: 1 revision imported

2022-07-12T12:23:19Z

1 revision imported

← Older revision	Revision as of 14:23, 12 July 2022
(No difference)

Brett at 16:45, 29 March 2020

2020-03-29T16:45:14Z

New page

{{letterhead
|Date=7/19 April 1866
|To=[[Anatoly Tchaikovsky]] and [[Modest Tchaikovsky]]
|Place=[[Moscow]]
|Language=Russian
|Autograph={{locunknown}}
|Publication={{bib|1900/35|Жизнь Петра Ильича Чайковского ; том 1}} (1900), p. 237–239 (abridged)<br/>{{bib|1940/210|П. И. Чайковский. Письма к родным ; том 1}} (1940), p. 85 <br/>{{bib|1955/37|П. И. Чайковский. Письма к близким}} (1955), p. 30–31<br/>{{bib|1959/50|П. И. Чайковский. Полное собрание сочинений ; том V}} (1959), p. 104–105 <br/>{{bib|1981/81| Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. Letters to his family. An autobiography}} (1981), p. 29 (English translation)
|Notes=Manuscript copy in [[Klin]] (Russia): {{RUS-KLč}}
}}
==Text==
Based on a handwritten copy in the [[Klin]] House-Museum Archive, which may contain differences in formatting and content from Tchaikovsky's original letter.
{{Lettertext
|Language=Russian
|Translator=
|Original text={{right|7 апреля 1866}}
{{centre|Братцы!}}
Простите, что долго не писал. Путешествие совершил благополучно. Известие о покушении на государя дошло до нашего поезда уже на той станции, где мы пили чай, но только в очень неясном виде; мы уже вообразили, что государь умер, и одна близ сидевшая дама даже проливала по этому случаю слезы, а другая восхваляла необыкновенные качества души будущего государя. Только в Москве я узнал, в чем дело. Овации здесь происходят уму не воображаемые; напр[имер] в Большом театре третьего дни давали «Жизнь за царя», но его-то (как сказал бы Ларош) вовсе и не было. Как только появлялись поляки, так поднимался крик: «долой, долой поляков», хористы конфузились и умолкали, а публика требовала гимн, к[ото]рый и был пропет раз 20. В конце вынесли на сцену портрет государя, и далее уже нельзя описать, что была за кутерьма. С железной дороги я прямо попал на урок, и это подействовало на меня хорошо, т. е. я сразу опустился в; прозу моей московской жизни. Был принят здесь, конечно, весьма хорошо; у Тарновских в тот же день давался обед, а потом музыкальный вечер. который я открыл увертюрой из «Руслана и Людмилы», Погода здесь стоит великолепная, тепло, как в июне, и я вчера долго гулял по Александровскому саду. Разговоры все теперь вертятся на покушении против государя, и Комиссаров сделался в один день величайшею. знаменитостью; в московском Английском клубе его единодушно избрали в почётные члены и послали ему золотую дворянскую саблю. Скучаю я довольно сильно, и. что всего глупее, у меня уже началось лихорадочное ожидание лета, так что. я то и дело рассчитываю дни и часы, а это будет отравлять теперь мою жизнь, ибо всё будет казаться, что ещё очень долго. Об поездке в Петербург, кажется, нечего и думать, ибо из одного разговора, к[ото]рый я имел вчера с Рубинштейном, оказывается, что обстоятельства финансовые мне этого не дозволят. Вчера вечером случилось следующее курьёзное обстоятельство: я остался у Тарновских один с тремя женщинами, и они насильно заставили меня с ними танцевать вальс, причём каждая по очереди играла; я устал до того. что насилу добрел до своей комнаты. Целую, пишите.

|Translated text=
}}
{{DEFAULTSORT:Letter 0089}}