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А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И Й К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
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1. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter eight
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2. Набоков Дмитрий: Отцовские бабочки. Отцовские бабочки. Father's Butterflies (английский язык)
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3. Чарльз Кинбот: Серебристый свет. Подлинная жизнь Владимира Набокова. Chapter Nine. Zashchita Luzhina
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4. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 18 - 22
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5. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter one
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6. Эссе о драматургии ("Playwriting", на английском языке)
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7. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 17 - 21
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8. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. BBC-2, 1969 г.
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9. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 3 - 8
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10. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 1 - 2
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11. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. Vogue, 1972 г.
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12. Розенгрант Дж.: Владимир Набоков и этика изображения. Двуязычная практика
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13. Nabokov's Butterflies: Unpublished and Uncollected Writings
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14. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 9 - 16
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15. Барабтарло Г.: Очерк особенностей устройства двигателя в "Приглашении на казнь"
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16. Чарльз Кинбот: Серебристый свет. Подлинная жизнь Владимира Набокова. Chapter Eight. Dying Is No Fun
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17. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 22 - 26
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18. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. Novel, 1970 г.
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19. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 12 - 17
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20. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Fragments of Onegin's journey
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21. Вне Лолиты: Вновь открывая Набокова. (Проект CNN, 1999 г.). His Legacy
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22. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 9 - 11
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23. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. The Sunday Times, 1969 г.
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24. Карпов Н.А.: Романтические контексты Набокова. Глава II. Традиции романтической литературы в романе «Защита Лужина»
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25. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. The Paris Review, 1967 г.
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26. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. Anonymous, 1972 г.
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27. Sartre's first try (Review)
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28. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 1 - 8
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29. Nabokov's butterflies, dispersed
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30. Долинин Александр: Комментарий к роману Владимира Набокова «Дар». Глава первая
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31. Комментарий к роману "Евгений Онегин". Глава шестая. Пункты XXXI - XLVI
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32. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter seven
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1. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter eight
Входимость: 3. Размер: 71кб.
Часть текста: in those days, in mysterious valleys,   in springtime, to the calls of swans,   near waters shining in the stillness,   8  the Muse began to visit me.   My student cell was all at once   radiant with light: in it the Muse   opened a banquet of young fancies, 12  sang childish gaieties,   and glory of our ancientry,   and the heart's tremulous dreams. II   And with a smile the world received her;   the first success provided us with wings;   the aged Derzhavin noticed us — and blessed us   4  as he descended to the grave.   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   8  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . III   And I, setting myself for law   only the arbitrary will of passions,   sharing emotions with the crowd,   4  I led my frisky Muse into the hubbub   of feasts and turbulent discussions —   the terror of midnight patrols;   and to them, in mad feasts,   8  she brought her gifts,   and like a little bacchante frisked,   over the bowl sang for the guests;   and the young people of past days 12  would turbulently dangle after her;...
2. Набоков Дмитрий: Отцовские бабочки. Отцовские бабочки. Father's Butterflies (английский язык)
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Часть текста: of "references" in the atlases ad usum Delphini, the tedious perusal of the index of names enclosed with an annual volume of a monthly journal, the sheer number of these journals and volumes (in my father's library there were more than a thousand of the latter alone, representing a good hundred journals) - all this had to be overcome in order to hunt down the necessary reference, if it existed at all. Nonetheless, even in my exceptionally propitious situation things were not easy: Russia, particularly in the north, dwelt in a mist, while the local lists, scattered through the journals, totally haphazard, scanty, and cruelly inaccurate in nomenclature, only maddened me when at last I ferreted them out. My father was the preeminent entomologist of his time, and very well off to boot, but the ordinary amateur, unable to dispatch his scouts throughout Russia, and denied the opportunity - or not knowing how - to gain access to specialized collections and libraries (and an accidental boon, the hasty inspection of collections at a lepidopterological society or in the cellar of some museum, does not satisfy the true enthusiast, who needs to have the boon always at hand), had no choice but to hope for a miracle. And that miracle dawned in 1912 with the appearance of my father's four-volume work The Butterflies and Moths of the Russian Empire. Although in a hall adjoining the library dark-red cabinets contained my father's supremely rich collections, consisting of specimens complete with thoroughly accurate names, dates, and places of capture, I personally belonged to the category of curieux who, in order to acquaint themselves properly with a butterfly and to visualize it, require three things; its artistic depiction, a compendium of all that has been written about it, and its insertion within the general system of classification. With no words and no art, without a penetrating...
3. Чарльз Кинбот: Серебристый свет. Подлинная жизнь Владимира Набокова. Chapter Nine. Zashchita Luzhina
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Часть текста: chose to remove, or happened to remove inadvertantly, from Chapters Two and Five. Zashchita Luzhina is a book about chess, "a game of skill played by two persons, each having sixteen pieces to move in different ways, on a board divided into 64 squares, alternately light and dark." (I owe this pithy definition to Webster.) If the reader does not know, or has forgotten, the rules to the game, he or she is invited to consult one of the many pamphlets devoted to chess that must surely exist in every language written and read in the civilized world. The word chess derives from Middle English ches or chesse , thence from Old French eschec (francophones will hear here an echo of the French word for failure, a not irrelevant observation for the case under discussion), or echac ,2 thence from Persian shah , a king, the most important piece in the game. Luzhin, the eponymous hero, is our king: He remembered especially the time when he was quite small, playing all alone, and wrapping himself up in the tiger rug, to represent, rather forlornly, a king (p. 70, 4). (Indeed. A young and pretty princelet, ...
4. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 18 - 22
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Часть текста: window and the groom is a widower; when the former has lived in Our Great Little Town for hardly two years, and the latter for hardly a month; when Monsieur wants to get the whole damned thing over with as quickly as possible, and Madame gives in with a tolerant smile; then, my reader, the wedding is generally a “quiet” affair. The bride may dispense with a tiara of orange blossoms securing her finger-tip veil, nor does she carry a white orchid in a prayer book. The bride’s little daughter might have added to the ceremonies uniting H. and H. a touch of vivid vermeil; but I knew I would not dare be too tender with cornered Lolita yet, and therefore agreed it was not worth while tearing the child away from her beloved Camp Q. My soi-disant   passionate and lonely Charlotte was in everyday life matter-of-fact and gregarious. Moreover, I discovered that although she could not control her heart or her cries, she was a woman of principle. Immediately after she had become more or less my mistress (despite the stimulants, her “nervous, eager chri  a heroic chri   !  had some initial trouble, for which, however, he amply compensated her by a fantastic display of old-world endearments), good Charlotte interviewed me about my relations with God. I could have answered that on that score my mind was open; I said, insteadpaying my tribute to a pious platitudethat I believed in a cosmic spirit. Looking down at her fingernails, she also asked me had I not in my family a certain strange strain. I countered by inquiring whether she would still want to marry me if my father’s maternal grandfather had been, say, a Turk. She said it did not matter a ...
5. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter one
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Часть текста: it. With partial hand   take this collection of pied chapters:   half droll, half sad, 12  plain-folk, ideal,   the careless fruit of my amusements,   insomnias, light inspirations,   unripe and withered years, 16  the intellect's cold observations,   and the heart's sorrowful remarks. CHAPTER ONE To live it hurries and to feel it hastes. Prince Vyazemski I   “My uncle has most honest principles:   when he was taken gravely ill,   he forced one to respect him   4  and nothing better could invent.   To others his example is a lesson;   but, good God, what a bore to sit   by a sick person day and night, not stirring   8  a step away!   What base perfidiousness   to entertain one half-alive,   adjust for him his pillows, 12  sadly serve him his medicine,   sigh — and think inwardly   when will the devil take you?” II   Thus a young scapegrace thought   as with post horses in the dust he flew,   by the most lofty will of Zeus   4  the heir of all his kin.   Friends of Lyudmila and Ruslan!   The hero of my novel,   without preambles, forthwith,   8  I'd like to have you meet:   Onegin, a good pal of mine,   was born upon the Neva's banks,   where maybe you were born, 12  or used to shine, my reader!   There formerly I too promenaded —   but harmful is the North to me. 1 III   Having served excellently, nobly,   his father lived by means of debts;   gave three balls yearly   4  and squandered everything at last.   Fate guarded Eugene:   at first, Madame looked after him;   later, Monsieur replaced her.   8  The child was boisterous but charming.   Monsieur l'Abbé, a poor wretch of a Frenchman,   not to wear out the infant,...
6. Эссе о драматургии ("Playwriting", на английском языке)
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Часть текста: языке) Эссе о драматургии (на англ. яз.) Introduction The lectures "The Tragedy of Tragedy" and "Playwriting" were composed for a course on drama that Nabokov gave at Stanford during the summer of 1941. We had arrived in America in May of 1940; except for some brief guest appearances, this was Father's first lecturing engagement at an American university. The Stanford course also included a discussion of some American plays, a survey of Soviet theatre, and an analysis of commentary on drama by several American critics. The two lectures presented here have been selected to accompany Nabokov's plays because they embody, in concentrated form, many of his principal guidelines for writing, reading, and performing plays. The reader is urged to bear in mind, however, that, later in life, Father might have expressed certain thoughts differently. The lectures were partly in typescript and partly in manuscript, replete with Nabokov's corrections, additions, deletions, occasional slips of the pen, and references to previous and subsequent installments of the course. I have limited myself to what editing seemed necessary for the presentation of the lectures in essay form. If Nabokov had been alive, he might perhaps have performed more radical surgery. He might also have added that the gruesome throes of realistic suicide he finds unacceptable onstage (in "The Tragedy of Tragedy") are now everyday fare on kiddies' TV, while "adult" entertainment has long since outdone all the goriness of the Grand Guignol. He might have observed that the aberrations of theatrical method wherein the illusion of a barrier between stage and audience is shattered - a phenomenon he considered "freakish" - are now commonplace: actors wander and mix; the audience is invited to...
7. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 17 - 21
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Часть текста: enmeshed, I had decideddespite Lo’s visible annoyanceto spend another night at Chestnut Court; definitely waking up at four in the morning, I ascertained that Lo was still sound asleep (mouth open, in a kind of dull amazement at the curiously inane life we all had rigged up for her) and satisfied myself that the precious contents of the “luizetta” were safe. There, snugly wrapped in a white woolen scarf, lay a pocket automatic: caliber. 32, capacity of magazine 8 cartridges, length a little under one ninth of Lolita’s length, stock checked walnut, finish full blued. I had inherited it from the late Harold Haze, with a 1938 catalog which cheerily said in part: “Particularly well adapted for use in the home and car as well as on the person.” There it lay, ready for instant service on the person or persons, loaded and fully cocked with the slide lock in safety position, thus precluding any accidental discharge. We must remember that a pistol is the Freudian symbol of the Ur-father’s central forelimb. I was now glad I had it with meand even more glad that I had learned to use it two years before, in the pine forest around my and Charlotte’s glass lake. Farlow, with whom I had roamed those remote woods, was an admirable marksman, and with his. 38 actually managed to hit a hummingbird, though I must say not much of it could be retrieved for proofonly a little iridescent fluff. A burley ex-policeman called Krestovski, who in the twenties had shot and killed...
8. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. BBC-2, 1969 г.
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Часть текста: year. Printed here from my final typescript. You have said that you explored time's prison and have found no way out. Are you still exploring, and is it inevitably a solitary excursion, from which one returns to the solace of others? I'm a very poor speaker. I hope our audience won't mind my using notes. My exploration of time's prison as described in the first chapter of Speak, Memory was only a stylistic device meant to introduce my subject. Memory often presents a life broken into episodes, more or less perfectly recalled. Do you see any themes working through from one episode to another? Everyone can sort out convenient patterns of related themes in the past development of his life. Here again I had to provide pegs and echoes when furnishing my reception halls. Is the strongest tie between men this common captivity in time? Let us not generalize. The common captivity in time is felt differently by different people, and some people may not feel it at all. Generalizations are full of loopholes and traps. I know elderly men for whom "time" only means "timepiece." What distinguishes us from animals? Being aware of being aware of being. In other words, if I not only know that I am but also know that I know it, then I belong to the human species. All the rest follows-- the glory of thought, poetry, a vision of the universe. In that respect, the gap between ape and man is immeasurably greater than the one between amoeba and ape. The difference between an ape's memory and human memory is the difference between an ampersand and the British Museum library. Judging...
9. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 3 - 8
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Часть текста: my world, umber and black Humberland, with rash curiosity; she surveyed it with a shrug of amused distaste; and it seemed to me now that she was ready to turn away from it with something akin to plain repulsion. Never did she vibrate under my touch, and a strident “what d’you think you are doing?” was all I got for my pains. To the wonderland I had to offer, my fool preferred the corniest movies, the most cloying fudge. To think that between a Hamburger and a Humburger, she wouldinvariably, with icy precisionplump for the former. There is nothing more atrociously cruel 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...
10. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 1 - 2
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Часть текста: illicit love. At first, in my dread of arousing suspicion, I would eagerly pay for both sections of one double unit, each containing a double bed. I wondered what type of foursome this arrangement was even intended for, since only a pharisaic parody of privacy could be attained by means of the incomplete partition dividing the cabin or room into two communicating love nests. By and by, the very possibilities that such honest promiscuity suggested (two young couples merrily swapping mates or a child shamming sleep to earwitness primal sonorities) made me bolder, and every now and then I would take a bed-and-cot or twin-bed cabin, a prison cell or paradise, with yellow window shades pulled down to create a morning illusion of Venice and sunshine when actually it was Pennsylvania and rain. We came to know nous connmes,   to use a Flaubertian intonationthe stone cottages under enormous Chateaubriandesque trees, the brick unit, the adobe unit, the stucco court, on what the Tour Book of the Automobile Association describes as “shaded” or “spacious” or “landscaped” grounds. The log kind, finished in knotty pine, reminded Lo, by its golden-brown glaze, of friend-chicken bones. We held in contempt the plain whitewashed clapboard Kabins, with their faint sewerish smell or some other gloomy self-conscious stench and nothing to boast of (except “good beds”), and an unsmiling landlady always prepared to ...