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Ironic Contradictions

I'm a long time reader - since way back when I was seven. That makes it over three quarters of my life that I will be a reader for. But it is worth it. When I'm not reading or wasting my time online on here or Goodreads I'll be off playing video games, studying teaching and messing around with friends and pop culture. Or reading some more.
The Lady With the Little Dog and Other Stories, 1896-1904 - Anton Chekhov, Ronald Wilks, Paul Debreczney
I must confess that I hold a deep dislike of Chekhov. Why is this? It is because of his sheer brilliance. The way he writes a short story is effortless and beautiful regardless of translation (I've read a few of the same stories from different translators and they all capture the story elegantly).

It is a dislike that stems from earlier in the year of 2012. In my literature class I was forced to attempt to adopt a Chekhovian style of writing to create an imaginative piece. I quickly found that his simple and yet at the same time elegant and complex manner of writing was too difficult for me to adopt for my own devices. His use of words is deceptively tight. It appears that anyone could mimic a Chekhovian style and yet he remains at the top of the short story writing field in my eyes.

So while I respect Chekhov's inhuman ability to write such short stories I must say that why oh why did he have to be such a genius? Or at least, why couldn't he have existed after the rest of us 'wanna-be' writers?