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Cлово "HALLUCINATION"
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Входимость: 2. Размер: 102кб.
Часть текста: формы, «Бледный огонь», возможно, — самый совершенный из существующих в мире романов 1 . Каждая сцена прописана с кристальной ясностью, и в то же время, отражаясь в поврежденном зеркале рассудка Кинбота, раскачивается вправо и влево, от осмысленности до бессмыслицы; каждый четкий, но комически-неустойчивый эпизод требует, чтобы мы отыскали ему место в структуре, которая прикидывается хаосом, но на поверку оказывается безукоризненно упорядоченной. Кроме того, «Бледный огонь» дал Набокову возможность во всей полноте раскрыть его любимые темы. Кинбот и Зембля окружают шейдовскую поэму мерцанием странного смысла, точно за его самодостаточным миром маячит иная реальность: безумие, или ключ к загадке, над которой Шейд бился всю жизнь? «Бледный огонь» даже сильнее других романов нацелен на восторг открытия. Предисловие начинается с кинботовского строго научного резюме поэмы Джона Шейда «Бледный огонь», однако этот фасад почти сразу же дает трещину: выплески неуместного раздражения («Прямо напротив моей нынешней квартиры находится очень громкий увеселительный парк»); научные интриги, закрутившиеся вокруг рукописи мертвого поэта; сомнения в компетентности нынешнего ее редактора и комментатора. На второй странице предисловия Кинбот сообщает нам, что в последний день своей жизни его бедный друг Шейд объявил ему, что труд его завершен. К этому Кинбот добавляет: «смотри мое примечание к стиху 991». С этой точки мы можем либо читать дальше предисловие и ознакомиться с примечанием, когда до него доберемся, либо поверить автору на слово и сразу обратиться к примечанию. Пойдя по второму пути, мы сразу же убедимся в странноватой привязанности Кинбота к Шейду. Вернувшись домой, он видит, как Сибилла Шейд уезжает на машине в центр города и немедленно отправляется «посмотреть, что поделывает мой дорогой...
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Часть текста: just a prissy wee bit out of the ordinary, or so he prissily thought. Noticing one night that my box of chessmen was broken, he sent me next morning, with a little lad of his, a copper case: it had an elaborate Oriental design over the lid and could be securely locked. Once glance sufficed to assure me that it was one of those cheap money boxes called for some reason “luizettas” that you buy in Algiers and elsewhere, and wonder what to do with afterwards. 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 ...
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Часть текста: similarities in the rhythm and tone of Speak, Memory and Ada, and in the way you and Van retrieve the past in images. Do you both work along similar lines? The more gifted and talkative one's characters are, the greater the chances of their resembling the author in tone or tint of mind. It is a familiar embarrassment that I face with very faint qualms, particularly since I am not really aware of any special similarities-- just as one is not aware of sharing mannerisms with a detestable kinsman. I loathe Van Veen. The following two quotations seem closely related: "I confess I do not believe in time. I like to fold my magic carpet, after use, in such a way as to superimpose one part of the pattern upon another. " (Speak, Memory) and "pure time, perceptual time, tangible time, time free of content, context and running commentary-- this is my time and theme. All the rest is numerical symbol or some aspect of space. " (Ada). Will you give me a lift on your magic carpet to point out bow time is animated in the story of Van and Ada? In his study of time my creature distinguishes between text and texture, between the contents of time and its almost tangible essence. I ignored that distinction in my Speak, Memory and was mainly concerned with being faithful to the patterns of my past. I suspect that Van Veen, having less control over his imagination than I, novelized in his indulgent old age many images of his youth. You have spoken in the past of your indifference to music, but in Ada you describe time as "rhythm, the tender intervals between Stresses. " Are...
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Часть текста: Switzerland. Mr. Nabokov and his wife have for the last six years lived in an opulent hotel built in 1835, which still retains its nineteenth-century atmosphere. Their suite of rooms is on the sixth floor, overlooking Lake Geneva, and the sounds of the lake are audible through the open doors of their small balcony. Since Mr. Nabokov does not like to talk off the cuff (or "Off the Nabocuff," as he said) no tape recorder was used. Mr. Nabokov ei! ther wrote out his answers to the questions or dictated them to the interviewer; in some instances, notes from the conversation were later recast as formal questions-and-answers. The interviewer was Nabokov's student at Cornell University in 1954, and the references are to Literature 311-312 (MWF, 12), a course on the Masterpieces of European Fiction (Jane Austen, Gogol, Dickens, Flaubert, Tolstoy, Stevenson, Kafka, Joyce, and Proust). Its enrollment had reached four hundred by the time of Nabokov's resignation in 1959. The footnotes to the interview, except where indicated, are provided by the interviewer, Alfred Appel, Jr. For years bibliographers and literary journalists didn't know whether to group you under "Russian" or "American. "Now that you're living in Switzerland there seems to be complete agreement that you're American. Do you find this kind of distinction at all important regarding your identity as a writer? I have always...
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Часть текста: [1969] Of the fifty-eight questions James Mossman submitted on September 8, 1969, for Review, BBC-2 (October 4) some 40 were answered and recorded by me from written cards in Montreux. The Listener published the thing in an incomplete form on October 23 of that year. Printed here from my final typescript. You have said that you explored time's prison and have found no way out. Are you still exploring, and is it inevitably a solitary excursion, from which one returns to the solace of others? I'm a very poor speaker. I hope our audience won't mind my using notes. My exploration of time's prison as described in the first chapter of Speak, Memory was only a stylistic device meant to introduce my subject. Memory often presents a life broken into episodes, more or less perfectly recalled. Do you see any themes working through from one episode to another? Everyone can sort out convenient patterns of related themes in the past development of his life. Here again I had to provide pegs and echoes when furnishing my...
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Часть текста: “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...
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Часть текста: щепетильно. Возможно, в чем-то он был слеп, или рассуждал по-обывательски, или же к концу жизни настолько ослабел от болезней, что не способен был оценивать здраво, но все-таки тут дело не в одной зависти. Что-то в романе Набокова его не убедило. Уилсон и прежде высказывал другу возражения. Даже в книгах, которые ему понравились, как “Николай Гоголь” 2 , находились моменты, вызывавшие у него досаду, и в единственном романе, который привел Уилсона в восторг, “Подлинной жизни Себастьяна Найта”, тоже, по его мнению, имелись серьезные недостатки. Независимость суждений и неподкупность Уилсон возвел в культ. Иногда это его подводило: к примеру, он не заметил восторженного описания их дружбы в романе “Под знаком незаконнорожденных”. Уилсон читал все, что присылал ему Набоков, но не как профессиональный критик. Он не делал заметок (скорее всего, ему это и в голову не приходило) по поводу значимых моментов произведений . В 1953 году он писал Набокову: Получится ли у тебя издать книгу до следующей осени? Очень на это рассчитываю, ибо тогда у меня будет предлог написать о тебе длинную статью в “Нью-Йоркер” и включить ее в сборник, который должен выйти в 1954 году 4 . Уилсон на самом деле хотел прочесть роман Набокова, прощупывал почву для профессиональной оценки. “Ты будешь моей следующей - после Тургенева - русской темой”, - добавляет он 5 . Главное различие между ними, которое не сгладилось с годами, было политическим. Близко знавшие Набокова ученые признавали, что он куда лучше разбирался в истории, так как не только был свидетелем определенных исторических событий, но и много размышлял о них. В “Даре”, по мнению Семена Карлинского, вдумчивого и знающего набоковеда, тоже эмигранта, писатель “отыскал корни тоталитаризма в якобы либертарианских, на деле же фанатических и догматичных взглядах” 6 русских...
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Часть текста: the bride is a window and the groom is a widower; when the former has lived in Our Great Little 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 ever found out I did not believe in Our Christian God, she would commit suicide. She said it so solemnly that it...