Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "GRANDEE"
Входимость: 1. Размер: 1кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 63кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 10кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 11кб.
Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах
Входимость: 1. Размер: 1кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 63кб.
Часть текста: and the sounds of the lake are audible through the open doors of their small balcony. Since Mr. Nabokov does not like to talk off the cuff (or "Off the Nabocuff," as he said) no tape recorder was used. Mr. Nabokov ei! ther wrote out his answers to the questions or dictated them to the interviewer; in some instances, notes from the conversation were later recast as formal questions-and-answers. The interviewer was Nabokov's student at Cornell University in 1954, and the references are to Literature 311-312 (MWF, 12), a course on the Masterpieces of European Fiction (Jane Austen, Gogol, Dickens, Flaubert, Tolstoy, Stevenson, Kafka, Joyce, and Proust). Its enrollment had reached four hundred by the time of Nabokov's resignation in 1959. The footnotes to the interview, except where indicated, are provided by the interviewer, Alfred Appel, Jr. For years bibliographers and literary journalists didn't know whether to group you under "Russian" or "American. "Now that you're living in Switzerland there seems to be complete agreement that you're American. Do you find this kind of distinction at all important regarding your identity as a writer? I have always maintained, even as a schoolboy in Russia, that the nationality of a worthwhile writer is of secondary importance. The more distinctive an insect's aspect, the less apt the taxonomist is to glance first of all at the locality label under the pinned specimen in order to decide which of several vaguely described races it should be assigned to. The writer's art is his real passport. His identity should be immediately recognized by a special pattern or unique coloration. His habitat may confirm the correctness of the determination but should not lead to it. Locality labels are known to have been faked by unscrupulous insect dealers. Apart from these considerations I think of myself today as an American writer who has once been a Russian o! ne. The Russian...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 10кб.
Часть текста: told him that my aunt had recently died, that we had never been close, that there was residual ill will between us over a trifling incident involving her adolescent grandson, my nephew, many years ago, and that I sorely wished to contact her. He looked at me strangely, suspecting, I think, a joke, but surrendered the name of his friend in Omaha without asking any questions. Discretion is a rare thing indeed. I called the professor of French, who confirmed the red scarf story and enthusiatically provided Madame Fat’s address. She had moved to Lincoln, whither I betook myself the following morning by car. (For those readers keen on fatidic dates, I note that this was the 2nd of July.) Nowadays I drive a powerful white Volvo station wagon, and the trip from Cedarn to Lincoln, pleasantly free from state troopers and jack-knifed semis, was effected beneath cloudless skies in under five hours. In keeping with her name, and contrary to the description I had received of her as frailly skeletal, Madame Fat was fat. When she answered her door, this fact created a burst of cognitive dissonance that momentarily struck me dumb: I would have had no problem referring to a bony Asian lady as Madame Fat to her face, but calling a fat woman Fat strayed well beyond the bounds of my personal sense of decorum. I quickly began considering a series of alternative pronunciations, Faht, Fate, Fuht, when she beamed at me and said: “You Doktah Keenbote! Come een, come een, welcome!” Her speech was a weird blend of lazy American vowels and razor-sharp “e’”s that made the skin of her ample amber-colored face assume a series of bizarre distortions. I guessed that this had to be she and settled, sounding like some inept grandee, for plain “Madame.” She ushered me unceremoniously into her parlor, identical to her Omaha one, to judge by the bamboo blinds and corny Oriental fixtures. “Seet, seet” she said, patting the back of a cane chair, beside the small round...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 11кб.
Часть текста: — качество редкое. Я позвонил профессору французского языка, она подтвердила слышанную мною историю о красном шарфе и с энтузиазмом снабдила меня адресом мадам Тук. Последняя перебралась к тому времени в Линкольн, куда я следующим утром и выехал на автомобиле. (Для тех из читателей, кто питает слабость к пророческим датам, сообщаю, что случилось это 2 июля.) Я езжу теперь в мощном фургоне “Вольво”, так что путь из Кедров в Линкольн, приятный путь под безоблачным небом, не подпорченный ни дорожными патрулями, ни норовящими сложиться вдвое полутрейлерами, занял всего пять часов. Как и подразумевалось ее фамилией — в противность полученному мною описанию скелетоподобной особы, — мадам Тук была тучна. Когда она отворила дверь, это обстоятельство породило во мне диссонанс сознания, мгновенно лишивший меня дара речи: я не затруднился бы назвать “мадам Тук” костлявую азиатку, но произнести “Тук” прямо в лицо женщине тучной — это было бы непосильным испытанием для присущего мне чувства приличия. Я начал лихорадочно перебирать возможности альтернативного произношения: Ток, Тик, Тюк, но тут она разулыбалась и сказала: — А-а, докта Киинбут! Входиить, входиить, пожалста! В выговоре ее присутствовала причудливая смесь протяжных американских гласных и бритвенно-острых “и”, крививших ее просторное, янтарного оттенка лицо странными гримасами. Я понял, что это, скорее всего, та особа, которая мне нужна, и остановился, хоть и стал оттого казаться себе неким ...