Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "TWILIGHT"
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Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах
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Часть текста: of rather comfortable inanity just because this was the very limit of injustice and frustrationand every 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 clichs, there was in her a garden and a twilight, and a ...
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Часть текста: 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 bit; but that, if she...
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Часть текста: Воспринимая жизненный опыт одних, он соотносил его изложение с тем, что читал у других. Темы, образность, стилистические обороты, которые он встречал у писателя, он вновь использовал в собственных ранних стихах и привносил в работу над переводом других поэтов. Учитывая, что впоследствии Набоков любил подчеркивать свою независимость и что современная критика пытается поместить его на пересечении модернизма и постмодернизма, заслуживает внимания тот факт, что первыми, кого он почтил, были романтики и неоромантики, то есть художники, чьи чувства часто оказывались на виду у всех и чьи необычные судьбы выбивались из ряда других, наравне с их творчеством. Таким писателем был Мюссе. Он был первой «маской», которой воспользовался Набоков, чтобы рассказать о своих самых глубоких чувствах и опыте, так и оставшихся главным источником для его творчества: о воспоминаниях первой любви, о смерти отца, об утрате России. Остается только добавить сюда невозможность пользоваться родным языком — и список утрат, которыми в дальнейшем питалось творчество Набокова, будет полным. «La Nuit de décembre» было не единственным стихотворением Мюссе, которым он увлекся на первых порах. В качестве эпиграфа к первому сборнику стихотворений он взял строчки из стихотворения «Souvenir», а в 1920-х годах...
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Часть текста: 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, Jr., driver of the Packard; that his 79-year-old father, whom the nurse had just watered on the green bank where he laya banked banker so to speakwas not in a dead faint, but was comfortably and methodically recovering from a mild heart attack or its possibility; and, finally, that the laprobe on the sidewalk (where she had so often pointed out to me with disapproval the crooked green cracks) concealed the mangled remains of Charlotte Humbert who had been knocked down and dragged several feet by the Beale car as she was hurrying across the street to drop three letters in the mailbox, at the corner of Miss Opposite’s lawn. These were picked up and handed to me by a pretty child in a dirty pink ...
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Часть текста: As a late friend of mine liked to say when confronted by a particularly short-sighted variety of seize-the-day hedonist: Life is not a dress rehearsal, true; but neither is it the final act. Ladies and Gentlemen, I have a confession to make: since beginning this book, I have been haunted. By this I do not mean obsessed by my subject, nor beguiled by a dim whiff of literary fame, nor even the victim of an id?e fixe . I mean haunted, from the Old Zemblan heimte : to bring home, pull, fetch, claim. Someone or something has been haunting me: dogging my mental steps, hiding my pencils and note cards, tapping a disembodied fingernail against my cabin’s windowpanes, whispering seductive doom between gusts of March wind and endeavoring in every conceivable way to coax me through the looking glass. I think I know who it is. *** A colleague to whom I had unbosomed myself the morning after a particularly bad night mentioned, later in the conversation and quite offhandedly, that he had a friend (let’s call her LN) in Omaha who had recently consulted a psychic with the aim of contacting her spouse, who had died unexpectedly a few years prior. The psychic in question, a bony Asian lady with the odd name of Madame Fat, claimed to be a “channeler”, i.e. a medium skilled in acting as a conduit for disembodied spirits, including, of course, the dead, whom she referred to, in an amazingly opaque display of euphemism, as the others . My colleague’s friend, a professor of French lit and until then a hardened skeptic in all matters paranormal, was severely shaken by the encounter and reported the creepy results of the consultation with Madame Fat to her friend: after sipping from a cup of tea that smelled of rose petals and sitting motionless, eyes closed, for several minutes in the striped twilight of her small parlor...
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Часть текста: pale and glaring head, A parrot's screech, a monkey's chatter, And profanation of the dead. The parasites you were so hard on Are pardoned if I have your pardon, O Pushkin, for my stratagem. I traveled down your secret stem, And reached the root, and fed upon it; Then, in a language newly learned, I grew another stalk and turned Your stanza, patterned on a sonnet, Into my honest roadside prose — All thorn, but cousin to your rose. Reflected words can only shiver Like elongated lights that twist In the black mirror of a river Between the city and the mist. Elusive Pushkin! Persevering, I still pick up your damsel's earring, Still travel with your sullen rake; I find another man's mistake; I analyze alliterations That grace your feasts and haunt the great Fourth stanza of your Canto Eight. This is my task: a poet's patience And scholiastic passion blent — The shadow of your monument. (Дословный перевод: Что есть перевод? На блюде Бледная, сияющая голова поэта, Хриплый крик попугая, лопотание обезьяны, И профанация...
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Часть текста: Богу, Попробовать не захотелъ: 8 Но къ жизни вовсе охладелъ. Какъ Child-Horald , угрюмый, томный Въ гостиныхъ появлялся онъ; Ни сплетни света, ни бостонъ, 12 Ни милый взглядъ, ни вздохъ нескромный, Ничто не трогало его, Не замечалъ онъ ничего. 1–2 Недуг, которого причину / Давно бы отыскать пора. Этой темой русские критики занимались с огромным рвением, поэтому за дюжину десятилетий накопилась масса самых скучных комментариев, которые когда-либо были известны цивилизованному человеку. Изобрели даже специальный термин для тоски Онегина («онегинство»), тысячи страниц были посвящены ему как «типу» того или иного (т. е. «лишнего человека» или метафизического «денди» и т. д.). Бродский (1950), стоя на демагогической трибуне, доставшейся ему, спустя столетие, от Белинского, Герцена и других, провозгласил, что причина «болезни» Онегина — «деспотический строй» царской России. Так характер, заимствованный из книг, но блистательно преображенный фантазией великого поэта (для которого жизнь и книга были одно), помещенный им в блистательно воссозданное окружение и обыгранный в целом ряде творческих образцов — лирических воплощений, гениальных чудачеств, литературных пародий и т. д., — оказался истолкован русскими педантами как социологический и исторический феномен, типичный для эпохи Александра I (увы, это стремление вульгаризировать и свести к общему месту уникальную...