Some notes on Konstantin

Konstantin is an enigma. He is passionate, sometimes to the point of volatility. Throughout the play, especially the first three acts, he exudes raw ambition, but it is an ambition that is violently unfocused and this is a major obstacle for his work on the stage. His sensitivity feeds his poetic passions, but it also threatens to make him inviable when he dwells on regrets and jealousies. He is an intellectual, a bona fide member of Russia’s young intelligentsia but he struggles to find “new forms” that express his philosophies and sensibilities effectively to an audience. And yet, Konstantin is not just a fledgling artist petrified of mediocrity—although this terror definitely figures in his relationship to Trigorin—his every action screams for attention, for warmth, for a stretched out hand.
Konstantin has been neglected. His father is not even in the picture; the only information Chekhov gives us about his father is that he “was an artisan from Kiev before he became a famous actor,” (Gill 14). Perhaps Konstantin’s father was never home, always rushing off to the theatre, touring from province to province. Perhaps Arkadina never married Konstantin’s father and therefore he was never physically a part of his family life. The declaration about the “artisan” who “became a famous actor” suggests that Konstantin is only acquainted with some vague persona of his father and therefore this man must have had very little, if any role in raising Konstantin. I need to think about the question of the father more specifically, but I definitely think this is an important piece of Konstantin’s spine.
Not only do we have a nonexistent father, but Konstantin’s mother has absolutely no perception of her son’s needs. She loves him, there is no doubt about it, but it is awkward for her to show her love. Konstantin goes on and on about how he is “ashamed my mother is an actress,” and that “if she was only like any other woman I might be happier,” (Gill 13-14). This outburst is very telling of what Konstantin so desperately needs from Arkadina. He sees her number one priority as the stage, and he feels lucky if he comes a close second, but even that is a bleak prospect considering Arkadina’s obsession with Trigorin. So he is not so much “ashamed” that his mother is an actress—after all he is in love with one himself and he has aspirations to the theatre—as he is resentful and envious. He envies the writers and actors and directors of high society who take up all of Arkadina’s time and energy. He envies Trigorin for both his professional success and his time with Arkadina, time that she never has for Konstantin. Later, he envies Trigorin for his spell over Nina. This envy is an obstacle because it makes him rash and overly sensitive. In his wallowing, Konstantin risks getting stymied. It becomes harder for him to come into his own artistically and personally.
I have only begun to scratch the tip of the iceberg. There is so much more to Konstantin. These are only some basic notions I have, some of which may very well change completely as I discover more about the character and the play.
—Alborz