Anton Pavlovich Chekhov, the Russian who revolutionized literature in the 19th century, was shaped by the bustling culture of the Greek diaspora, which thrived along the Black Sea as well as the Azov.
To truly understand Chekhov’s genius, one must look south to the city of Taganrog. As biographers like Donald Rayfield have noted, Taganrog was less a Russian town and more of an anomalous Mediterranean. It was the “Little Athens” of the Azov.
Taganrog and the Greek diaspora
The story begins with Catherine the Great. In the late 18th century, following the Russo-Turkish wars, the Empress sought to secure Russia’s southern borders by populating the Black and Azov Sea coasts with seasoned mariners and merchants. She turned to the Greeks. Offering tax breaks and land, she invited Greeks to establish a new life. Among the cities that blossomed under this policy was Taganrog.
By the time Anton Chekhov was born in 1860, Taganrog was a thriving commercial hub where the Greek language was heard on every street corner. Massive Greek firms dominated the city’s economy. The grain trade—the lifeblood of the region—was controlled by dynasties like the Alferakis, the Scaramangas, and the Bernadakis. This was the world Anton was born into.
His birth was a multicultural affair; his godfather was the Greek merchant Dmitry Kirillovich Sofianopoulo, and his early childhood was spent navigating a city where the “master” of the house was often a Greek merchant and the “servant” a Russian peasant.
The education of the Russian-Greek and Anton Chekhov
Anton’s father, Pavel Chekhov, was a man of fierce ambition and flawed judgment. Seeing the immense wealth of the Greek merchant class, he became obsessed with the idea that his sons should enter that world. He believed the key to prosperity lay in the Greek language. Consequently, Anton was enrolled in the Greek Parish School of Taganrog.
The experience was, by most accounts, a nightmare. The school was run by Nicholas Voutsinas, a man whose pedagogical methods involved more corporal punishment than conjugation. The classrooms were damp, the teaching was archaic, and the young Chekhov felt more like a prisoner than a student.
However, this period was foundational. It gave Chekhov his first taste of the “absurd,” a quality that would later define his literary style. He observed the pomposity of the Greek merchants—men who spoke of high ideals while bickering over the price of olives.
It was at the school that he witnessed the prototype for Kharlampy Spiridonovich Dymba, the character in his 1889 play The Wedding, who famously bellows, “In Greece, there is everything!” This line, meant as a satirical jab at Greek provincialism, ironically became the most famous “advertisement” for Greece in the Russian language.
Greek culture: The Alferaki influence on Anton Chekhov
While the school was harsh, the city’s broader Greek culture was magnificent. The Alferaki family, led by the composer and future mayor, Achilles Alferaki, turned Taganrog into a cultural beacon. Their palace, a Beaux-Arts masterpiece designed by Stackenschneider, was the site of concerts and intellectual salons that the young, impoverished Chekhov could only view from a distance.
Yet, the Greek influence extended to the Taganrog City Theatre. Founded by the initiative of the Greek officer Pavlovich Karagiannis and funded by Greek merchants, this theater was Chekhov’s true classroom.
He would sneak into the gallery to watch Italian operas and Russian dramas. Without the Greek community’s financial obsession with the arts, it is unlikely that the world would have ever seen The Seagull or The Cherry Orchard.
The medical bond: Chekhov and Dr. Rossolimo
As Chekhov moved to Moscow to study medicine, his Greek connection transitioned from geography to deep, lifelong friendship. It was at the Moscow University Medical Faculty that he met Grigory Ivanovich Rossolimo.
Rossolimo, a descendant of a noble family from Kefalonia, was a mirror image of Chekhov in many ways. Both were men of the South and outsiders in the Moscow elite, and both possessed a relentless scientific humanism. While Chekhov turned his clinical eye toward the soul, Rossolimo turned his toward the nervous system.
Rossolimo would go on to become a titan of neurology, discovering the “Rossolimo Sign”—a clinical reflex test for central nervous system damage that remains a staple of medical training today. Their correspondence is a testament to a deep intellectual brotherhood. In 1899, when Rossolimo asked Chekhov for an autobiography for a university anniversary, Chekhov responded with his famous “Medicine is my lawful wife” letter.
Even in their final years, as Chekhov struggled with tuberculosis, Rossolimo was a constant presence, offering medical counsel and a shared nostalgia for the sun-drenched coasts of their youth. Rossolimo eventually founded the Institute of Child Psychology, a feat of philanthropy that Chekhov deeply admired.
The final years: “I am Greek”
In 1898, Chekhov’s health forced him to move to Yalta, Crimea. There, he found himself once again in a “Greek” landscape. The Crimean Greeks had survived centuries of political upheaval, maintaining their language and Orthodox faith.
Chekhov’s philanthropy in Yalta was quiet but profound. He became a benefactor of the Greek Church of St. Theodore Tyron and helped local Greek families navigate the complexities of Russian law. He also donated to the education of Greek children.
When locals expressed surprise at his devotion to their community, he would simply reply, “I am Greek!” This wasn’t a claim of biological heritage. Chekhov was ethnically Russian, but it was a profound statement of cultural identity. He felt a kinship with the Greek spirit: its resilience, proximity to the sea, and insistence on finding beauty in the midst of tragedy.
The Greek influence on Chekhov’s work
Anton Chekhov died in 1904, but the Greek influence on his work remains visible to those who know where to look. The “Greek theme” appears seventeen times in his major works, but more importantly, his style carries a Hellenic clarity. He rejected the heavy, moralizing “mist” of Northern Russian literature in favor of a sharp, clear-eyed realism—a quality his friend Rossolimo described as a “Mediterranean” way of seeing the world.
Today, Chekhov and Rossolimo lie in the same cemetery in Moscow. They remain symbols of a unique historical moment, a time when the Russian literary soul and the Greek intellectual spirit merged in the ports of the Black Sea. Chekhov’s life proves that “in Greece, there is everything”—including the seeds of a literary genius that changed the world forever. From the harsh benches of Voutsinas’ school to the philanthropic halls of Rossolimo’s institute, the Greek connection was the secret thread that bound Chekhov’s world together.
Related: The History of the Ancient Greek Colonies in the Black Sea