I want to propose a different way of categorizing novels, or at least arranging the ones you have read on your shelves: something that came to me after reading Dickens and Chekhov in quick succession. At first glance, it might be hard to think of two writers who are more different. Dickens so expansive; Chekhov so economical—story after story unfolding in a few pages, sometimes only a few paragraphs. Cut, cut, cut, he told friends who showed their unpublished work to him. Yet I was surprised to find myself sensing a deep affinity between the two authors.
