Владимир Набоков: Поиск по текстам произведений автора и критике. Cлово "PARENT". Классическая русская литература.

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Часть текста: О body swayed to music, o brightening glance, How can we know the dancer from the dance? W. B. Yeats. Among School Children Владимир Набоков однажды сказал, что «главное в биографии писателя — не рассказ о его приключениях, а история развития его стиля». [1] В случае самого Набокова у этой истории есть два варианта — русский и английский, и всякий, кто хочет рассказать эту историю, должен быть готов объяснить оба варианта, охарактеризовав не только их свойства по отдельности, но и их взаимосвязь. Конечно, из-за величины творческого наследия Набокова на обоих языках, множества произведений художественной и документальной прозы, поэтических произведений, а также автопереводов и переводов произведений других авторов, то есть всего, созданного Набоковым с 1923 года до его смерти в 1977 году, любое исследование его стиля натолкнется на лингвистические, текстологические и эстетические вопросы необычайной сложности. [2] Возможно, единственный выход в условиях ограниченного объема данной статьи — обобщающее сокращение; в данном случае замещение творчества писателя одним репрезентативным текстом, охватывающим два языка, и анализ существенно важного аспекта этого текста на конкретных примерах. Текст, выбранный мною, — автобиографический диптих «Speak, Memory»/ «Другие берега», а стилистический аспект, который я собираюсь рассматривать, — образование звуковых повторов, или инструментовка. [3] Автобиография Набокова представляется произведением репрезентативным и даже парадигматическим по двум главным причинам. Первая причина заключается именно в том, что речь идет об автобиографии, которая как произведение документальной прозы претендует на достоверное, хотя и очень сложное, изображение самого автора....

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Часть текста: на английском языке. Playboy, 1964 г. Playboy [1964] This exchange with Alvin Toffler appeared in Playboy for January, 1964. Great trouble was taken on both sides to achieve the illusion of a spontaneous conversation. Actually, my contribution as printed conforms meticulously to the answers, every word of which I had written in longhand before having them typed for submission to Toffler when he came to Montreux in mid-March, 1963. The present text takes into account the order of my interviewer's questions as well as the fact that a couple of consecutive pages of my typescript were apparently lost in transit. Egreto perambis doribus! With the American publication of Lolita in 1958, your fame and fortune mushroomed almost overnight from high repute among the literary cognoscenti-- which you bad enjoyed for more than 30 years-- to both acclaim and abuse as the world-renowned author of a sensational bestseller. In the aftermath of this cause celebre, do you ever regret having written Lolita? On the contrary, I shudder retrospectively when I recall that there was a moment, in 1950, and again in 1951, when I was on the point of burning Humbert Humbert's little black diary. No, I shall never regret Lolita. She was like the composition of a beautiful puzzle-- its composition and its solution at the same time, since one is a mirror view of the other, depending on the way you look. Of course she completely eclipsed my other works-- at least those I wrote in English: The Real Life of Sebastian Knight, Bend Sinister, my short stories, my book of recollections; but I cannot grudge her this. There is a queer, tender charm about that mythical nymphet. Though many readers and reviewers would disagree that her charm is tender, few would deny that it is queer-- so much so that when director Stanley Kubrick proposed his plan to make a movie of Lolita, you were quoted as saying, "Of course they'll have to change the plot. Perhaps they...

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Часть текста: Mona, though handsome in a coarse sensual way and only a year older than my aging mistress, had obviously long ceased to be a nymphet, if she ever had been one. Eva Rosen, a displaced little person from France, was on the other hand a good example of a not strikingly beautiful child revealing to the perspicacious amateur some of the basic elements of nymphet charm, such as a perfect pubescent figure and lingering eyes and high cheekbones. Her glossy copper hair had Lolita’s silkiness, and the features of her delicate milky-white face with pink lips and silverfish eyelashes were less foxy than those of her likesthe great clan of intra-racial redheads; nor did she sport their green uniform but wore, as I remember her, a lot of black or cherry darka very smart black pullover, for instance, and high-heeled black shoes, and garnet-red fingernail polish. I spoke French to her (much to Lo’s disgust). The child’s tonalities were still admirably pure, but for school words and play words she resorted to current American and then a slight Brooklyn accent would crop up in her speech, which was amusing in a little Parisian who went to a select New England school with phoney British aspirations. Unfortunately, despite “that French kid’s uncle” being “a millionaire,” Lo dropped Eva for some reason before I had had time to enjoy in my modest way her fragrant presence in the Humbert open house. The reader knows what importance I attached to having a bevy of page girls, consolation prize nymphets, around my Lolita. For a while, I endeavored to interest my senses in Mona Dahl who was a good deal around, especially during the spring term when Lo and she got so enthusiastic about dramatics. I have often wondered what secrets outrageously treacherous Dolores Haze had imparted to Mona while blurting out to me by urgent and well-paid request various really...

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Часть текста: 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 the rambler, at the...

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Часть текста: неизвестно, как всё сложилось бы дальше, после того как Ван узнает, что Ада не кузина ему, а родная сестра.) Пожар в Амбаре, сыграл, таким образом, ключевую роль в бурном романе героев. Но отчего загорелся так называемый баронский амбар, “огромное всеми любимое строение в трёх милях от дома”? От попавшей в него молнии? Или от умышленного поджога? Мне кажется, имели место оба фактора: природный и человеческий. Дело в том, что, как и Воронья Слободка в романе Ильфа и Петрова «Золотой телёнок» (1931), ардисский амбар был обречён. Он не мог не сгореть. За несколько часов до того как загорелся амбар, Ван, Ада и их сводная сестра Люсетта играли во «Флавиту» (игру, известную на нашей планете как «Скрэбл» или «Эрудит»). Это был грозовой вечер в конце июля или начале августа 1884 года; [1] череда люсеттиных кубиков сложилась в забавное ВАНИАДА, и из этого Люсетта вычленила тот самый предмет мебели, о котором она как раз говорила капризным тоненьким голоском: “Но, может быть, я тоже хотела бы сидеть на диване” (1.36). На этом самом диване Вану и Аде спустя всего пару часов предстояло впервые предаться любви; Люсетте же так и не суждено было стать возлюбленной Вана (что, в конечном счёте, приведёт её к гибели). Не менее замечательное совпадение произошло во время другой партии, когда Адины буквы – С, Р, Е, Н, О, К, И – образовали только что сказанное Адой слово “керосин”: “Мне больше пришлась бы здесь по душе Бентенова лампа, но в ней вышел весь керосин ” (1.36). Эта вторая партия была сыграна тою же троицей августовским вечером – вероятно, вскоре после Пожара в Амбаре (произошедшего не то 29 июля, не то 4 августа). Отсутствие в лампе керосина, разумеется, ещё не означает, что керосин пошёл на поджог амбара. Однако, целый ряд деталей указывает на то, что именно так всё и было: хитроумная Ада нашла пособников, которые согласились поджечь...

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Часть текста: limit presupposes something beyond ithence the neutral illumination. And when you bear in mind that these were the raised eyebrows and parted lips of a child, you may better appreciate what depths of calculated carnality, what reflected despair, restrained me from falling at her dear feet and dissolving in human tears, and sacrificing my jealousy to whatever pleasure Lolita might hope to derive from mixing with dirty and dangerous children in an outside world that was real to her. And I have still other smothered memories, now unfolding themselves into limbless monsters of pain. Once, in a sunset-ending street of Beardsley, she turned to little Eva Rosen (I was taking both nymphets to a concert and walking behind them so close as almost to touch them with my person), she turned to Eva, and so very serenely and seriously, in answer to something the other had said about its being better to die than hear Milton Pinski, some local schoolboy she knew, talk about music, my Lolita remarked: “You know, what’s so dreadful about dying is that you are completely on your own”; and it struck me, as my automaton knees went up and down, that I simply did not know a thing about my darling’s mind and that quite possibly, behind the awful juvenile ...

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Часть текста: up to the occasion, so did the weather. My visitors and their crew had never paid much attention to those insects and I was touched and flattered by the childish wonderment with which they viewed the crowds of butterflies imbibing moisture on brookside mud at various spots of the mountain trail. Pictures were taken of the swarms that arose at my passage, and other hours of the day were devoted to the reproduction of the interview proper. It eventually appeared on the Bookstand program and was published in The Listener (November 22, 1962). I have mislaid the cards on which I had written my answers. I suspect that the published text was taken straight from the tape for it teems with inaccuracies. These I have tried to weed out ten years later but was forced to strike out a few sentences here and there when memory refused to restore the sense flawed by defective or improperly mended speech. The poem I quote (with metrical accents added) will be found translated into English in Chapter Two of The Gift, G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York, 1963. Would you ever go back to Russia? I will never go back, for the simple reason that all the Russia I need is ...

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Часть текста: у Веры на целый семестр хватило разговоров. Блох, слава Богу, там не оказалось; но как быть с назойливым лунным светом? (Профессор Вигендт с женой, сами только что въехавшие, предложили завесить окна шторами или на крайний случай простынями.) У Герберта Вигендта обнаружились и ответные претензии, которые, когда Набоковы переместились в Кембридж, он 10 февраля 1953 года без обиняков высказал Владимиру в письме. В основном претензии касались ущерба, причиненного только что положенному в кухне линолеуму, а также испарившегося набора ножей. С обратной почтой пришло объяснение: «Вашего столового серебра мы не трогали. Ножи ваши в глаза не видели. Ничем плитку в вашей ванной на первом этаже не терли, ни едким, никаким иным средством», — парирует Вера под именем Владимира и добавляет: «И совершенно не способствовали „задиранию“ вашего линолеума». Так называемое общение с большинством преподавателей и их женами могло, в зависимости от компании, спровоцировать и у Набоковых вызывающее поведение. Весной 1958 года профессор Уильям Моултон с женой позвали к себе на коктейль Набоковых, приглашенного в университет профессора немецкой литературы Эрика Блэкхолла, а...

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Часть текста: It turned out to be much too flat for holding my bulky chessmen, but I kept itusing it for a totally different purpose. In order to break some pattern of fate in which I obscurely felt myself being 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 two escaped convicts, joined...

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Часть текста: Chapters 12 - 17 12 This proved to be the last of twenty entries or so. It will be seem from them that for all the devil’s inventiveness, the scheme remained daily the same. First he would tempt meand then thwart me, leaving me with a dull pain in the very root of my being. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, and how to do it, without impinging on a child’s chastity; after all, I had had some experience in my life of pederosis; had visually possessed dappled nymphets in parks; had wedged my wary and bestial way into the hottest, most crowded corner of a city bus full of straphanging school children. But for almost three weeks I had been interrupted in all my pathetic machinations. The agent of these interruptions was usually the Haze woman (who, as the reader will mark, was more afraid of Lo’s deriving some pleasure from me than of my enjoying Lo). The passion I had developed for that nymphetfor the first nymphet in my life that could be reached at last by my awkward, aching, ...

Поиск по творчеству и критикеCлово "PARENT"

Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "PARENT"