Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "DAMNED"
Входимость: 2. Размер: 58кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 53кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 52кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 54кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 57кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 147кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 11кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 64кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 57кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 53кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 58кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 43кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 49кб.
Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах
Входимость: 2. Размер: 58кб.
Часть текста: was the day, during our first tripour first circle of paradisewhen in order to enjoy my phantasms in peace I firmly decided to ignore what I could not help perceiving, the fact that I was to her not a boy friend, not a glamour man, not a pal, not even a person at all, but just two eyes and a foot of engorged brawnto mention only mentionable matters. There was the day when having withdrawn the functional promise I had made her on the eve (whatever she had set her funny little heart ona roller rink with some special plastic floor or a movie matinee to which she wanted to go alone), I happened to glimpse from the bathroom, through a 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...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 53кб.
Часть текста: 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 will make Lolita a dwarfess. Or they will make her 16 and Humbert 26. " Though you finally wrote the screenplay yourself, several reviewers took the film to task for watering down the central relationship. Were you satisfied with the final product? I thought the movie was absolutely first-rate. The four main actors deserve the very highest praise. Sue...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 52кб.
Часть текста: 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...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 54кб.
Часть текста: she vibrate under my touch, and a strident “what d’you think you are doing?” was all I got for my pains. To the wonderland I had to offer, my fool preferred the corniest movies, the most cloying fudge. To think that between a Hamburger and a Humburger, she wouldinvariably, with icy precisionplump for the former. There is nothing more atrociously cruel than an adored child. Did I mention the name of that milk bar I visited a moment ago? It was, of all things, The Frigid Queen. Smiling a little sadly, I dubbed her My Frigid Princess. She did not see the wistful joke. Oh, d not scowl at me, reader, I do not intend to convey the impressin that I did not manage to be happy. Readeer must understand that in the possession and thralldom of a nymphet the enchanted traveler stands, as it were, beyond happiness. For there is no other bliss on earth comparable to that of fondling a nymphet. It is hors concours , that bliss, it belongs to another class, another plane of sensitivity. Despite our tiffs, despite her nastiness, despite all the fuss and faces she made, and the vulgarity, and the danger, and the horrible hopelessness of it all, I still dwelled deep in my elected paradisea paradise whose skies were the color of hell-flamesbut still a paradise. The able psychiatrist who studies my caseand whom by now Dr. Humbert has plunged, I trust, into a state...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 57кб.
Часть текста: весьма сходен с тезисом Белинского, в статьях об "Онегине" справедливо заметившего, что русский во фраке может быть столь же народен, как и русский в лаптях, - однако Набокову важно не свести эстетические концы с концами идеологическими ("Онегин" великое произведение, ergo должно быть народным), а понять, где именно, при такой валкости элементов, находится безусловное несущее перекрытие строения. "Парадокс, с точки зрения переводчика, заключается в том, что единственно важным русским элементом "Онегина" является пушкинский язык..." Действительным парадоксом оказывается то, что язык, формообразующий нацию, оказывается наднационален. Истинный текст "Онегина" это все, за исключением "энциклопедии русской жизни". Русская литература - это все, что она в себе несет, за вычетом запахов гумна, ржаного хлеба, бояр и прочего реквизита. От национального, от народного Набоков оставляет только язык, - то есть нечто аксиоматическое, неделимый остаток, от чего невозможно отказаться без угрозы саморазрушения, - и здесь мы видим, что, если язык есть наиболее ценное, что создается народом, то одновременно он и менее всего привязан к национальному. Язык есть нечто самое наднациональное, потому что отражающее мышление, а не быт, - мышление, протекающее, надо признать, по одним законам если не у всякого мыслящего существа, то хотя бы у человека как биологического вида. Язык есть единственно важный элемент...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 147кб.
Часть текста: летал дождь, а уже появилась, с неуловимой внезапностью ангела, радуга: сама себе томно дивясь, розово-зеленая, с лиловой поволокой по внутреннему краю, она повисла за скошенным полем, над и перед далеким леском, одна доля которого, дрожа, просвечивала сквозь нее. Редкие стрелы дождя, утратившего и строй, и вес, и способность шуметь, невпопад, так и сяк вспыхивали на солнце. В омытом небе, сияя всеми подробностями чудовищно-сложной лепки, из-за вороного облака выпрастывалось облако упоительной белизны. "Ну вот, прошло, - сказал он вполголоса и вышел из-под навеса осин, столпившихся там, где жирная, глинистая, "земская" (какой ухаб был в этом прозвании!) дорога спускалась в ложбинку, собрав в этом месте все свои колеи в продолговатую выбоину, до краев налитую густым кофе со сливками. Милая моя! Образчик элизейских красок! Отец однажды, в Ордосе, поднимаясь после грозы на холм, ненароком вошел в основу радуги, - редчайший случай! - и очутился в цветном воздухе, в играющем огне, будто в раю. Сделал еще шаг - и из рая вышел. Она уже бледнела. Дождь совсем перестал, пекло, овод с шелковыми глазами сел на рукав. В роще закуковала кукушка, тупо, чуть вопросительно: звук вздувался куполком и опять - куполком, никак не разрешаясь. Бедная толстая птица вероятно перелетела дальше, ибо всё повторялось сызнова, вроде уменьшенного отражения (искала,...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 11кб.
Часть текста: insertion of the questioner's comments or bits of descriptive matter (but none of the latter material may be ascribed to me). Unprepared remarks, quips, etc., may come from me during the actual colloquy but may nut be published without my approval. The article will be shown to me before publication so as to avoid factual errors {e. g., in names, dates, etc.). Mr. Oakes' article appeared in The Sunday Times on June 22, 1969. As a distinguished entomologist and novelist do you find that your two main preoccupations condition, restrict, or refine your view of the world? What world? Whose world? If we mean the average world of the average newspaper reader in Liverpool, Livorno, or Vilno, then we are dealing in trivial generalities. If, on the other hand, an artist invents his own world, as I think I do, then how can he be said to influence his own understanding of what he has created himself? As soon as we start defining such terms as "the writer," "the world," "the novel," and so on, we slip into a solipsismal abyss where general ideas dissolve. As to butterflies-- well, my taxonomic papers on lepidoptera were published mainly in the nineteen forties, and can be of interest to only a few specialists in certain groups of American butterflies. In itself, an aurelian's passion is not a particularly unusual sickness; but it stands outside the limits of a novelist's world, and I can prove this by the fact...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 64кб.
Часть текста: первым (4 ноября 1823 г.) узнавшему из письма Пушкина о работе над ЕО , отведена в романе необычайно приятная роль: он открывает роман (эпиграфом взята 76-я строка его стихотворения «Первый снег»; см. также гл. 5, III, где Вяземский соседствует с Баратынским); он каламбурит, оживляя путешествие Татьяны в Москву (см. пушкинское примеч. 42 и мой коммент. к гл. 7, XXXIV, 1 о Мак-Еве); и наконец, уже в Москве доверенным лицом автора приходит на выручку Татьяне, когда та отбывает скучнейшую светскую повинность (см. коммент. к гл. 7, XLIX, 10). Стихотворение «Первый снег» (1816–1819, опубликовано в 1822 [100] ) написано шестистопным ямбом и состоит из 105 стихов со свободной схемой рифмовки. Пусть приветствует весну «баловень» юга, где «тень душистее, красноречивей воды», я — «сын пасмурных небес» севера, «обыклый к свисту вьюг», и я «приветствую… первый снег» — вот суть начала. Далее следует описание нагой осени, а затем — волшебства зимы: «лазурью… горят небес вершины… блестящей скатертью подернулись долины… темный изумруд посыпав серебром, на мрачной сосне… синим зеркалом… пруд окован». Эти образы, лишь четче очерченные, у Пушкина повторяются в 1826 г. ( ЕО , гл. 5,I) и особенно в 1829 г. (стихотворение «Зимнее утро», написанное четырехстопным ямбом). Первая треть произведения Вяземского позади. Далее следует описание смельчаков-конькобежцев, празднующих «ожиданный возврат» зимы (ср. ЕО , гл. 4, XLII, конец 1825 г.); затем мелькает сцена заячьей охоты («взор нетерпеливый допрашивает след»), а за ней — портрет разрумянившейся на морозе дамы (оба образа имеют параллели у Пушкина в стихотворении «Зима», 1829, александрийский стих). Несущиеся сани (на них аллюзия в ЕО ,...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 57кб.
Часть текста: the “Birdsley” telephone call… But if I could dismiss Trapp, as I had dismissed my convulsions on the lawn at Champion, I could do nothing with the anguish of knowing Lolita to be so tantalizingly, so miserably unattainable and beloved on the very even of a new era, when my alembics told me she should stop being a nymphet, stop torturing me. An additional, abominable, and perfectly gratuitous worry was lovingly prepared for me in Elphinstone. Lo had been dull and silent during the last laptwo hundred mountainous miles uncontaminated by smoke-gray sleuths or zigzagging zanies. She hardly glanced at the famous, oddly shaped, splendidly flushed rock which jutted above the mountains and had been the take-off for nirvana on the part of a temperamental show girl. The town was newly built, or rebuilt, on the flat floor of a seven-thousand-foot-high valley; it would soon bore Lo, I hoped, and we would spin on to California, to the Mexican border, to mythical bays, saguaro desserts, fatamorganas. Jos Lizzarrabengoa, as you remember, planned to take his Carmen to the Etats Unis. I conjured up a Central American tennis competition in which Dolores Haze and various Californian schoolgirl champions would dazzlingly participate. Good-will tours on that smiling level eliminate the distinction between passport and sport. Why did I hope we would be happy abroad? A change of environment is the traditional fallacy upon which doomed loves, and lungs, rely. Mrs. Hays, the brisk, briskly rouged, blue-eyed widow who ran the motor court, asked me if I were Swiss perchance, because her sister had married a Swiss ski instructor. I was, whereas my daughter happened to be half Irish. I registered, Hays gave me the key and a tinkling smile, and, still twinkling, showed me where to park the car; Lo crawled out and...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 53кб.
Часть текста: 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 ever found out I did not believe in Our Christian God, she would commit suicide. She said it so solemnly that it gave me the creeps. It was then I knew she was a woman of principle. Oh, she was very genteel: she said “excuse me” whenever a slight burp interrupted her flowing speech, called an envelope and ahnvelope, and when talking to her lady-friends referred to me as Mr. Humbert. I thought it would please her if I entered the community trailing some glamour after me. On the day of our wedding a little interview ...