Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "QUIRK"
Входимость: 1. Размер: 78кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 53кб.
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Входимость: 1. Размер: 78кб.
Часть текста: неназванном острове капитан Шмидт Видит нового зверя и ловит его, И если немного позднее капитан Смит Привозит оттуда шкуру, то этот остров не миф. Джон Шейд. Бледный огонь (57, строки 759–762) …в сущности научное и сверхъестественное — чудо мышц и чудо мысли — оба необъяснимы, как и все пути Господни. Чарльз Кинбот. Бледный огонь (159, примеч. к строке 230) На самом деле, чем значительнее познания, тем сильнее ощущение тайны. Владимир Набоков [285] Джон Шейд занят исследованием областей потустороннего; Кинбот подробно описывает географию земблянского полуострова и рисует для Шейдов детальный план дворца в Онхаве. Набоков прибегает к географической метафоре для описания творческого процесса. В «Память, говори» он рассуждает о действия[х] творческого разума, от прокладки курса через опасные моря до писания тех невероятно сложных романов, где автор в состоянии ясного безумия ставит себе единственные в своем роде правила и преграды, которые он соблюдает и одолевает с пылом божества, строящего полный жизни мир из самых невероятных материалов — из ...
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Часть текста: 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 the rambler, at the bottom of a hill, in the summer dusk; a furry warmth, golden midges. My mother’s elder sister, Sybil, whom a cousin...
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Часть текста: he is his own ideal reader and those other readers are so very often mere lip-moving ghosts and amnesiacs. On the other hand, a good reader is bound to make fierce efforts when wrestling wdth a difficult author, but those efforts can be most rewarding after the bright dust has settled. What is your particular clash? Well, that's the clash I am generally faced with. In many of your writings, you have conceived what {consider to be an Alice-in-Wonderland world of unreality and illusion. What is the connection with your real struggle with the world? Alice in Wonderland is a specific book by a definite author with its own quaintness, its own quirks, its own quiddity. If read very carefully, it will be seen to imply, by humorous juxtaposition, the presence of a quite solid, and rather sentimental, world, behind the semi-detached dream. Moreover, Lewis Carroll liked little girls. I don't. The mixture of unreality and illusion may have led some people to consider you mystifying and your writing full of puzzles. What is your answer to people who say you are just plain obscure? To stick to the crossword puzzle in their Sunday paper. Do you make a point of puzzling people and playing games with readers? What a bore that would be! The past figures prominently in some of your writing. What concern do you have for the present and the future? My conception of the texture of time somewhat resembles its image in Part Four of Ada. The present is only the top of the past, and the future does not exist. What have you found to be the disadvantages of being able to write in so many languages? The inability to keep up with their ever-changing slang. What are the advantages? The ability to render an exact nuance by shifting from the language I am now using to a brief burst of French or to a soft rustle of Russian. What do you think of critic George Steiner's linking you with Samuel Beckett and Jorge Luis Borges as ...