As it turns out Georges Polti, wrote a book in 1895 called The Thirty-Six Dramatic Situations (Les trente-six situations dramatiques) in which he argued that there are only 36 fundamental dramatic situations.
Digging deeper, it seems that Polti was expanding on an idea associated with the 18th-century Italian playwright Carlo Gozzi, who claimed there were only 36 tragic situations. Goethe later noted that Schiller had tried to find more than 36 but could not even reach that number. Polti’s list (supplication, deliverance, crime pursued by vengeance, pursuit, disaster, revolt, adultery, etc.) became a classic reference for writers and dramatists.
All this to say that I wonder if one of those plot situations might have been something akin to serendipity of the kind demonstrated in Hitchcock's Strangers on a Train. This is what came to mind as I revisited a hilarious Anton Chekhov story that I enjoyed perhaps three or four decades ago called "The First-Class Passenger." (Some translations call it "A First-Class Passenger." While being an entertaining read it also leaves readers with a few morsels of thought food.
Here are the opening two paragraphs.
A FIRST-CLASS passenger who had just dined at the station and drunk a little too much lay down on the velvet-covered seat, stretched himself out luxuriously, and sank into a doze. After a nap of no more than five minutes, he looked with oily eyes at his _vis-a-vis,_ gave a smirk, and said:
"My father of blessed memory used to like to have his heels tickled by peasant women after dinner. I am just like him, with this difference, that after dinner I always like my tongue and my brains gently stimulated. Sinful man as I am, I like empty talk on a full stomach. Will you allow me to have a chat with you?"
It's a perfect setup. Two characters have been introduced. They both come from the money class. Velvet seats, private compartment. The first has had too much to drink and in his self-introduction he admits to a habit of loquaciousness. That is, Chekhov is letting the reader know that this story is about to become a monologue, and the reader, like the man who shares this compartment, is pretty much trapped into going along for the ride.
The first gentleman does have the courtesy to ask for permission, and the man sharing his vis-a-vis is apparently most agreeable.
As it turns out the first-class passenger is an engineer who has built bridges and aqueducts, written technical papers and made significant contributions to science. But it irks him that as he nears the end of his career, that he is still an unknown, whereas people with superficial talents are celebrated.
The irony is that this engineer has some major accomplishments under his belt, but was bitter because what drove him initially--and perhaps throughout his career--was the longing for public recognition, that is, fame.
There was a time when fame was the domain of generals, political figures and movie stars. Over time, however, a shift was taking place and an astute Andy Warhol keyed in on it suggesting that in the exploding mass-media culture of his era, 15 minutes of global fame would soon be within reach of everyone.
We've seen it with our own eyes. Obscure individuals fool Penn & Teller, or win America's Got Talent or Jeopardy or a hundred other game shows and they become momentary stars. In most cases the attention is shallow, mass-produced, and short-lived.
Warhol would likely not have been surprised to see how all this evolved into reality TV, TikTok, Reels and viral internet spots.
GETTING BACK TO OUR STORY, it's a relatively short piece and though it can be found in a number of standard anthologies, here's the fastest way to find and enjoy it.
https://www.readbookonline.org/readOnLine/1018/
When all is said and done, what gives your life meaning?
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