Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "FEED"
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Входимость: 2. Размер: 53кб.
Часть текста: four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, a certain initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns. 2 I was born in 1910, in Paris. My father was a gentle, easy-going person, a salad of racial genes: a Swiss citizen, of mixed French and Austrian descent, with a dash of the Danube in his veins. I am going to pass around in a minute some lovely, glossy-blue picture-postcards. He owned a luxurious hotel on the Riviera. His father and two grandfathers had sold wine, jewels and silk, respectively. At thirty he married an English girl, daughter of Jerome Dunn, the alpinist, and granddaughter of two Dorset parsons, experts in obscure subjectspaleopedology and Aeolian harps, respectively. My very photogenic mother died in a freak accident (picnic, lightning) when I was three, and, save for a pocket of warmth in the darkest past, nothing of her subsists within the hollows and dells of memory, over which, if you can still stand my style (I am writing under observation), the sun of my infancy had set: surely, you all know those redolent remnants of day suspended, with the midges, about some hedge in bloom or suddenly entered and traversed by...
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Часть текста: «Современные записки», кн. 55-я. Часть литературная // Последние новости. 1934. № 4809. 24 мая. Адамович 1934c – Адамович Г. Святые мечты // Последние новости. 1934. № 4907. 30 августа. Адамович 1935 – Адамович Г. Несостоявшаяся прогулка // Современные записки. 1935. Кн. LXIX. С. 288–296. Адамович 1936 – Адамович Г. Сумерки Достоевского // Последние новости. 1936. № 5655. 17 сентября. Адамович 1938 – Адамович Г. «Современные записки», кн. 67. Часть литературная // Последние новости. 1938. № 6437. 10 ноября. Адамович 1996 – Адамович Г. Одиночество и свобода. М., 1996. Адамович 1998 – Адамович Г. Собрание сочинений. Литературные беседы: В 2 кн. / Вступ. ст., сост. и примеч. О. А. Коростелева. СПб., 1998. Адамович 1999 – Адамович Г. Собрание сочинений: Стихи, проза, переводы / Вступ. ст., сост. и примеч. О. А. Коростылева. СПб., 1999. Адамович 2000 – Адамович Г. Собрание сочинений: Комментарии / Сост., послесл. и примеч. О. А. Коростелева. СПб., 2000. Адамович 2010 – «Я с Вами привык к переписке идеологической…»: Письма Г. В. Адамовича В. С. Варшавскому, 1951–1972 // Ежегодник Дома русского зарубежья имени Александра Солженицына. М., 2010. С. 255–344. Азадовский 1991 – Азадовский К. М. Райнер Мария Рильке и Александр Блок (Предварительные заметки) // Русская литература. 1991. № 2. С. 144–156. Айхенвальд 1994 – Айхенвальд Ю. И. Силуэты русских писателей. М., 1994. Аксаков 1891 – Аксаков И. С. Сочинения. Славянофильство и западничество, 1860–1886. Статьи из «Дня», «Москвы», «Москвича» и «Руси». 2-е изд. СПб., 1891. Аксаков 1986 – Аксаков С. Т. Собрание сочинений: В 3 т. М., 1986. Аксаков 2000 – Аксаков К. С....
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Часть текста: the stern tale of the campaign of Igor, Igor son of Svyatoslav? Let us, however, begin this song in keeping with the happenings of these times and not with the contriving of Boyan. For he, vatic Boyan if he wished to make a laud for one, ranged in thought [like the nightingale] over the tree; like the gray wolf across land; like the smoky eagle up to the clouds. For as he recalled, said he, the feuds of initial times, "He set ten falcons upon a flock of swans, and the one first overtaken, sang a song first"- to Yaroslav of yore, and to brave Mstislav who slew Rededya before the Kasog troops, and to fair Roman son of Svyatoslav. To be sure, brothers, Boyan did not [really] set ten falcons upon a flock of swans: his own vatic fingers he laid on the live strings, which then twanged out by themselves a paean to princes. So let us begin, brothers, this tale- from Vladimir of yore to nowadays Igor. who girded his mind with fortitude, and sharpened his heart with manliness; [thus] imbued with the spirit of arms, he led his brave troops against the Kuman land in the name of the Russian land. Boyan apostrophized O Boyan, nigh tingale of the times of old! If you were to trill [your praise of] these troops, while hopping, nightingale, over the tre e of thought; [if you were] flying in mind up to the clouds; [if] weaving paeans around these times, [you were] roving the Troyan Trail, across fields onto hills; then the song to be sung of Igor, that grandson of Oleg [, would be]: "No storm has swept falcons across wide fields; flocks of daws flee toward the Great Don"; or you might intone thus, vatic Boyan, grandson of Veles:...
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Часть текста: than an adored child. Did I mention the name of that milk bar I visited a moment ago? It was, of all things, The Frigid Queen. Smiling a little sadly, I dubbed her My Frigid Princess. She did not see the wistful joke. Oh, d not scowl at me, reader, I do not intend to convey the impressin that I did not manage to be happy. Readeer must understand that in the possession and thralldom of a nymphet the enchanted traveler stands, as it were, beyond happiness. For there is no other bliss on earth comparable to that of fondling a nymphet. It is hors concours , that bliss, it belongs to another class, another plane of sensitivity. Despite our tiffs, despite her nastiness, despite all the fuss and faces she made, and the vulgarity, and the danger, and the horrible hopelessness of it all, I still dwelled deep in my elected paradisea paradise whose skies were the color of hell-flamesbut still a paradise. The able psychiatrist who studies my caseand whom by now Dr. Humbert has plunged, I trust, into a state of leporine fascinationis no doubt anxious to have me take Lolita to the seaside and have me find there, at last, the “gratification” of a lifetime urge, and release from the “subconscious” obsession of an incomplete childhood romance with the initial little Miss Lee. Well, comrade, let me tell you that I did look for a beach, though I also have to confess that by the time we reached its mirage...
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Часть текста: deep in evergreen shrubbery. To the anatomical right of this car, on the trim turn of the lawn-slope, an old gentleman with a white mustache, well-dresseddouble-breasted gray suit, polka-dotted bow-tielay supine, his long legs together, like a death-size wax figure. I have to put the impact of an instantaneous vision into a sequence of words; their physical accumulation in the page impairs the actual flash, the sharp unity of impression: Rug-heap, car, old man-doll, Miss O.’s nurse running with a rustle, a half-empty tumbler in her hand, back to the screened porchwhere the propped-up, imprisoned, decrepit lady herself may be imagined screeching, but not loud enough to drown the rhythmical yaps of the Junk setter walking from group to groupfrom a bunch of neighbors already collected on the sidewalk, near the bit of checked stuff, and back to the car which he had finally run to earth, and then to another group on the lawn, consisting of Leslie, two policemen and a sturdy man with tortoise shell glasses. At this point, I should explain that the prompt appearance of the patrolmen, hardly more than a minute after the accident, was due to their having been ticketing the illegally parked cars in a cross lane two blocks down the grade; that the fellow with the glasses was Frederick Beale,...