A Hierarchy of Power

Chekhov's "The Princess" left a strong impression in my mind that stayed for days, and its tirade against hypocrisy is still embedded deep inside today. The stories from Wena Poon's superb collection "Lions in Winter" resonated deeply when I read them, and still leave residue impressions, but these are somewhat less clearly-defined than that left by the Chekhov. By comparison, Effie Chuang's short stories are interesting, particularly "The Gulag" and "Bravado", but nowhere as powerful.
Whence the difference? Is it in the wealth of detail that bring the stories to life, that flesh out the characters and make them more than just abstract conceptions in the author's mind? ('The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies.') Is it just a matter of resonance, that I as a reader am more receptive to and remember more deeply certain stories and messages? Or probably some combination of both.