65 pages • 2-hour read
A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: This section of the guide includes discussion of substance use, sexual content, sexual harassment, physical abuse, and emotional abuse.
Kristyna is a married woman in her thirties. She is the local butcher’s wife but is also having an affair with the town mechanic. When a young student comes home for the summer to live with his mother, Kristyna notices his attentions and is intrigued. Though drawn to him, she does not give in quickly. Instead, she prolongs the affair by keeping it on an intellectual level. The student impresses her by speaking of poetry and philosophy, which are subjects that no man has ever discussed with her before. Kristyna holds back from physical intimacy—in part because she has been warned that another pregnancy could be fatal, and in part to preserve the uniqueness of their relationship. Unable to confess this to the student, she leaves him confused about her reluctance. The summer passes without much progress in their affair, but Kristyna plans to meet the student in Prague and spend the night with him there.
At this point, the narrator interrupts the narrative to explain the Czech word “litost.” He avoids defining it directly, instead offering examples of its usage. In one, the student swims with his girlfriend (not Kristyna), who is clearly a better swimmer than him. Out of kindness, she matches his pace until she breaks away for fun. The humiliated student struggles to keep up and nearly drowns. Overcome with shame, he feels litost. In a fit of misplaced pride, he slaps his girlfriend. Paradoxically, this act eases his pain. The narrator’s second example is of the same student refusing to follow his violin teacher’s instructions. When criticized, his playing worsens, and he once again feels litost. From these stories, the narrator defines the word as “torment created by the sudden sight of one’s own misery” (167). Love can alleviate the feeling, but only if the woman seems inferior or dependent; if she is superior, her independence produces unbearable humiliation. Once litost arises, it tends to provoke a feeling of revenge, followed by a cover-up lie. This pattern helps explain much of the student’s behavior. His girlfriend broke up with him after he slapped her; now, he is interested in Kristyna because of her apparent reverence for him. Kristyna, the student believes, would never try to outswim him.
Yet when Kristyna comes to Prague, the student feels acute litost again. He has been invited to the Writers Club by his professor, whom the narrator nicknames Voltaire, on the very night Kristyna arrives. Torn between high literary company and the chance of intimacy, he reluctantly chooses Kristyna. When she appears “provincial” in the sophistication of Prague, he resents not going to the club. Their evening begins badly, with Kristyna scolding him for taking her to a shabby bar. When he mentions that a famous poet of honor is at the club, Kristyna is thrilled, knowing the man’s work by heart. She insists he go, promising to wait for him in his dingy apartment. The student offers to get the poet to sign a book in return for her waiting.
The student attends the Writers Club, which the narrator populates with characters modeled after great poets of the past: Goethe, Lermontov, Petrarch, Verlaine, Yesenin, and Boccaccio. Their conversations dramatize their views on love, women, and poetry. Petrarch tells a long story about a girl who appeared at his house, leading to comic and chaotic consequences. Boccaccio mocks him for idolizing women, insisting that misogyny is more honest. Their quarrel escalates and the poets hurl accusations and insults at one another, with Goethe and Voltaire joining in. Lermontov, humiliated by their ridicule and accusations of “hypercelibacy” embodies litost, masking his wounded pride with declarations of superiority. The student sympathizes with him, seeing his own frustrations mirrored.
Eventually, the student captures Goethe’s attention. Tongue-tied at first, he tells him about Kristyna’s devotion and her wish for an autograph. Goethe is charmed by the authenticity of a small-town woman and writes a glowing tribute in her book. As the night ends in drunken chaos, the student recalls Kristyna waiting for him. He returns to her, full of renewed admiration. She is touched by Goethe’s words and forgives the student’s neglect. They begin to make love, but Kristyna resists, terrified of pregnancy. The student mistakes her protests and persists until she stops him. Finally, she spends the night holding his penis in a symbolic embrace without consummation. The next day, as she leaves by train, she confesses that pregnancy would endanger her life. The student feels deceived and frustrated at the missed opportunity. Kristyna, however, is elated, cherishing the night as one of sublime love and poetry.
For the student, the evening represents disappointment and humiliation. He broods over his failure and falls into litost. Without Kristyna present, he has no one to lash out against. The narrator terms this paralysis “litost block.” To escape it, he recalls Lermontov, whose prideful outbursts at the club were a form of catharsis. Finding Kristyna’s love letter in his pocket only deepens his self-hatred. He returns to the Writers Club, where Lermontov and Petrarch are present but do not recognize him. Feeling invisible, he drinks heavily. As he is about to leave, Petrarch finally draws him into conversation. The student has left Kristyna’s letter on the table. Petrarch reads it aloud, treating it “as if it were verse” (211), and insists that the student is a poet. Flattered, the student forgets his sympathy for Lermontov, who remains bitter and alone.
The narrator introduces the concept of litost as an “untranslatable Czech word” (166), using it as a lens to examine humiliation and desire as well as the theme of Exile and the Fragmentation of Identity. After showcasing the scene of the student’s awkward swim, the narrator defines litost as a “state of torment created by the sudden sight of one’s own misery” (167). The student’s urge to retaliate against the girlfriend whose strength and proficiency exposes his inadequacy leads to him slapping her in order to strike the source of the shame before his pity returns. The narrator abstracts this pattern, explaining that litost “works like a two-stroke engine” (168), in which torment is followed by the urge to bring the other down to the level of one’s own misery, and this is masked by “pathetic hypocrisy” (168). The narrator’s choice to foreground this untranslatable word reflects the condition of his exile; he knows that some experiences lose meaning in transit, yet literature can still convey their essence. While litost cannot cross borders, its experience can be glimpsed in scenes of petty injury, thwarted pride, and makeshift revenge. In this way, the word becomes an allegory and stands in for the misrecognition that defines both adolescent humiliation and the political situation of Czechoslovakia. The narrator’s focus on an untranslatable word mirrors the untranslatable pain of exile.
The student’s encounter with the company of poets turns private ache into a theater of self-recognition. The student is unnamed, while the poets appear under borrowed names—Voltaire, Goethe, Petrarch, and so on—that represent schools of thought and traditions rather than individuals. Their naming is a playful act of homage and a Postmodern signal of the metafictional nature of the chapter. Voltaire invites the student to meet “the country’s best poets” (169), and the student must choose between this and his date with Kristyna. Eventually, with her encouragement, he opts to go to the club since they are such remarkable, elevated figures (as befitting their names), and he is a mere student. When he finally arrives, the poets argue about women, labor, and art, revealing caricatured versions of literary postures. The poetic masks compress centuries of thought into a quick, comic scene. From his vantage, “watching them from the great distance of two thousand kilometers” (176), the narrator frames himself as an exile peering east from a distance as he stages this story of belonging and displacement. The metafictional angle is clear: This is not only a short story about a young man humiliated by beauty and thrilled by fame; it is also a fable about the narrator finding his place among his cultural ancestors.
The ending grants the student a consolation that is not triumph but transfiguration. After a night of small disgraces, he sits in the Writers’ Club unrecognized, then drifts toward the door, driven out by litost, leaving behind the sheet of paper with Kristyna’s message so that someone will at least know that he had been “infinitely loved.” Petrarch calls him back and reads Kristyna’s note aloud “as if it were verse” (211). This act of recontextualization—of treating a love letter like it were poetry—has a transformative power. The student is momentarily lifted out of isolation, and his shame is rewritten as meaningful. The moment does not change him into a new person, but it alters his horizon. If this note can be read as verse, then his days can be scoured for meaning even though he bungled them. Though litost, or the ache of inadequacy, remains, it is reframed through an act of literature and becomes a prelude to transformation rather than despair. In parallel, the narrator does the same by writing about his humiliations in exile, turning his private ache into shared meaning.



Unlock all 65 pages of this Study Guide
Get in-depth, chapter-by-chapter summaries and analysis from our literary experts.