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

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Часть текста: and he must flee (a world tour, a centenary), and undergo the ordeals of exile before coming to rest, in some almost successful disguise—as a professor of English at the University of Auckland, New Zealand. An unlikely plot, but the real story is no less exceptional: Brian Boyd, author of the prize-winning two-volume biography, Vladimir Nabokov: The Russian Years and Vladimir Nabokov: The American Years, and of Nabokov's Ada: The Place of Consciousness and the just-released Nabokov's Pale Fire: The Magic of Artistic Discovery, is a scholar who changed his mind. Writing in The New York Observer on Boyd's 'remarkable, obsessive, delirious, devotional study, Nabokov's Pale Fire,' Ron Rosenbaum called him 'an ornament of the accidents and possibilities of Nabokov scholarship' and praised him 'for having the courage and humility to retract an earlier conjecture and the imaginative daring' to (as Boyd himself might put it) re-re-reread Pale Fire. Nabokov's 1962 novel takes the form of an introduction by a scholar named Charles Kinbote; a lucid 999-line poem by an...

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Часть текста: разрыве двух писателей, приключившемся два десятилетия спустя - жестоком, с публичными взаимными обвинениями (пожалуй, последняя подобная битва педантов в истории Америки - хотя кто знает?), - удивляешься, как же до такого дошло, как могла разрушиться такая дружба? “Дорогой Кролик, - писал Набоков Уилсону в начале 1940х, - я получил гуггенхаймовскую стипендию. Спасибо, дорогой друг. У тебя удивительно легкая рука. Я заметил, что всякий раз, когда ты принимаешь участие в моих делах, успех мне обеспечен... В Нью-Йорке буду проездом в среду и четверг, 14 и 15 апреля. Позвоню в среду днем, если дашь мне свой телефон” 4 . Уилсон уговорил Набокова подать заявку на стипендию фонда Гуггенхайма и даже написал рекомендательное письмо 36 . В итоге грант Набоков получил, причем едва ли ему дали бы его без помощи Уилсона: писателю на тот момент уже исполнилось 43 года, а прежде среди стипендиатов фонда не было никого старше 40 лет. Набоков писал ему в 1941 году: Дорогой Уилсон, большое spaseebo за то, что “свели” меня с Decision и New Direction. Мы очень мило пообщались с...

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Часть текста: Onegin. Time for me to leave.” “I do not hold you, but where do 4 you spend your evenings?” “At the Larins'.” “Now, that's a fine thing. Mercy, man — and you don't find it difficult thus every evening to kill time?” 8 “Not in the least.” “I cannot understand. From here I see what it is like: first — listen, am I right? — a simple Russian family, 12 a great solicitude for guests, jam, never-ending talk of rain, of flax, of cattle yard.” II “So far I do not see what's bad about it.” “Ah, but the boredom — that is bad, my friend.” “Your fashionable world I hate; 4 dearer to me is the domestic circle in which I can…” “Again an eclogue! Ah, that will do, old boy, for goodness' sake. Well, so you're off; I'm very sorry. 8 Oh, Lenski, listen — is there any way for me to see this Phyllis, subject of thoughts, and pen, and tears, and rhymes, et cetera? 12 Present me.” “You are joking.” “No.” “I'd gladly.” “When?” “Now, if you like. They will be eager to receive us.” III “Let's go.” And off the two friends drove; they have arrived; on them are lavished the sometimes onerous attentions 4 of hospitable...

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Часть текста: vaunted times; 12 the fame of Lovelaces has faded with the fame of red heels and of majestic periwigs. VIII Who does not find it tedious to dissemble; diversely to repeat the same; try gravely to convince one 4 of what all have been long convinced; to hear the same objections, annihilate the prejudices which never had and hasn't 8 a little girl of thirteen years! Who will not grow weary of threats, entreaties, vows, feigned fear, notes running to six pages, 12 betrayals, gossiping, rings, tears, surveillances of aunts, of mothers, and the onerous friendship of husbands! IX Exactly thus my Eugene thought. In his first youth he had been victim of tempestuous errings 4 and of unbridled passions. Spoiled by a habitude of life, with one thing for a while enchanted, disenchanted with another, 8 irked slowly by desire, irked, too, by volatile success, hearkening in the hubbub and the hush to the eternal mutter of his soul, 12 smothering yawns with laughter: this was the way he killed eight years, having lost life's best bloom. X With belles no longer did he fall in love, but dangled after them just anyhow; when they refused, he solaced...

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Часть текста: идет дальше: он доказывает, что перверсия — фундаментальный элемент искусства. Чтобы добраться до ядра перверсии в «Пнине», нужно покинуть филологическую раздевалку и обратиться… к белке. Центральная роль этого животного в романе не требует доказательств: белка появляется там неоднократно и в ключевые моменты. Этимологически слово «squirrel» (белка), как мы узнаем из открытки, отправленной Пниным Виктору, означает «shadow tail» («тенехвостая»); благодаря очевидной игре слов — tail / tale (хвост / рассказ) — этот зверек становится образом романа в целом, с его призрачными, как тени, повествователями и метатворческим сюжетом. Р. Олтер и Г. Барабтарло утверждали, что белка служит всего лишь репрезентацией принципа мотивного повторения, без которого, по Набокову, немыслим никакой литературный текст. «Имеет ли Тема Белки особую аллегорическую миссию, — спрашивает Барабтарло, — помимо того, что она включена в общую символику художественного выражения вообще? Уж, по крайней мере, не в романе Набокова» [647]. Излюбленный «мальчик для битья» набоковедов, У. У. Роу, утверждает, что белка — репрезентация призрака Миры Белочкиной, который неотступно преследует героя на протяжении всего текста [648]. С моей точки зрения, белка в романе служит репрезентацией чего-то совсем другого, а именно фундаментального принципа поэтической перверсии, столь любимого Набоковым. Рассмотрим...

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Часть текста: in connection with a rectangle of framed sunlight was dominated by a single passion," wrote Vladimir Nabokov. "If my first glance of the morning was for the sun, my first thought was for the butterflies it would engender." It was an unusual way to view the world, and one that not many readers - even those who adore Nabokov - may have fully appreciated. In fact, the ferocity of Nabokov's obsession with butterflies has only just been made clear to general readers with the publication of Nabokov's Butterflies, a fascinating volume of unpublished and uncorrected writings on the subject, edited by the Russian author's tireless biographer and critic Brian Boyd, with Robert Michael Pyle, an expert in butterflies. All translations are, as usual, by Nabokov's son Dmitri, who has lavished time and unusual talent on his father's work over several decades. More than 700 densely printed pages on this subject may strike even the most sympathetic reader as overkill. Does anybody really want to read page after page of Nabokov's highly technical descriptions of various butterflies? Are these writings "important" to anyone, even lepidopterists? Is there any connection between Nabokov's passion for "lepping" and his fiction? I suspect "no" is the correct answer to all but the final question, which one must answer resoundingly in the affirmative. In his shrewd introduction Boyd teases out the connections between the writer and the lepidopterist. One comes to understand Vladimir Nabokov as novelist more completely and precisely by understanding that science gave this canny author "a sense of reality that should not be confused with modern (or 'postmodern') epistemological nihilism. "Dissecting and deciphering the genitalic structure of lycaenids, or counting scale rows on their wings, he realised that...

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Часть текста: On p. 166 there is a misprint: "Center (formerly Karner)" should be, of course, "Karner (formerly Center)." Incidentally I visit the place every time I happen to drive (as I do yearly in early June) from lthaca to Boston and can report that, despite local picnickers and the hideous garbage they leave, the lupines and Lycaeides samuelis Nab. are still doing as fine under those old gnarled pines along the railroad as they did ninety years ago. On p. 165, another, more unfortunate transposition occurs: "When fawn colored, more vivid in tone" should refer not to Lycaeides argyrognomon {idas\ but to L. melissa, while "wings beneath, when fawn colored, duller in tone" should refer not to L. melissa but to L. argyrognomon {Idas] (see my "Nearctic Lycaeides," Bull. Mus. Comp. Zool., vol. 101: p. 541: 1949). On pp. 162-164, the genus Brephidium (in company with two others) is incorrectly placed between Hemiargus and Lycaeides. I have shown in my paper on...

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Часть текста: Humbert,” their author, had died in legal captivity, of coronary thrombosis, on November 16, 1952, a few days before his trial was scheduled to start. His lawyer, my good friend and relation, Clarence Choate Clark, Esq., now of he District of Columbia bar, in asking me to edit the manuscript, based his request on a clause in his client’s will which empowered my eminent cousin to use the discretion in all matters pertaining to the preparation of “Lolita” for print. Mr. Clark’s decision may have been influenced by the fact that the editor of his choice had just been awarded the Poling Prize for a modest work (“Do the Senses make Sense?”) wherein certain morbid states and perversions had been discussed. My task proved simpler than either of us had anticipated. Save for the correction of obvious solecisms and a careful suppression of a few tenacious details that despite “H. H.”‘s own efforts still subsisted in his text as signposts and tombstones (indicative of places or persons that taste would conceal and compassion spare), this remarkable memoir is presented intact. Its author’s bizarre cognomen is his own invention; and, of course, this maskthrough which two hypnotic eyes seem to glowhad to remain unlifted in accordance with its wearer’s wish. While “Haze” only rhymes with the heroine’s real surname, her first name is too closely interwound with the inmost fiber of the book to allow one to alter it; nor (as the reader will perceive for himself) is there any practical necessity to do so. References to “H. H.”‘s crime may be looked...

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Часть текста: chance combination of mirror aslant and door ajar, a look on her face… that look I cannot exactly describe… an expression of helplessness so perfect that it seemed to grade into one 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...

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Часть текста: 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 always with me: literature, language, and my own Russian childhood. I will never return. I will never surrender. And anyway, the grotesque shadow of a police state will not be dispelled in my lifetime. I don't think they know my works there-- oh, perhaps a number of readers exist there in my special secret service, but let us not forget that Russia has grown tremendously provincial during these forty years, apart from the fact that people there are told what to read, what to think....

Поиск по творчеству и критикеCлово "VIVID"

Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "VIVID"