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А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И Й К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
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1. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter three
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2. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter six
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3. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter eight
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4. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter seven
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5. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter one
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6. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter two
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7. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 9 - 16
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8. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter four
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9. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 12 - 17
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10. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 3 - 8
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11. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 9 - 11
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12. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 27 - 31
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13. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 23 - 27
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14. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 1 - 2
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15. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 32 - 36
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16. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 18 - 22
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17. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter five
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18. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 22 - 26
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19. Эссе о драматургии ("Playwriting", на английском языке)
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20. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 17 - 21
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21. Федотов О.И.: Между Моцартом и Сальери (о поэтическом даре Набокова). 1.9. Америка. Попытка обрести новую родину
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22. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. Playboy, 1964 г.
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23. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 1 - 8
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24. Найман Эрик: Извращения в «Пнине» (Набоков наоборот). Глава 1
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25. Комментарий к роману "Евгений Онегин". Приложение II. Заметки о просодии
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26. Бренча на клавикордах
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27. The Song of Igor's Campaign, Igor son of Svyatoslav and grandson of Oleg (перевод Набокова)
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28. Савельева В.В.: Художественная гипнология и онейропоэтика русских писателей. Приложение
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29. Брайан Бойд. Владимир Набоков: американские годы. Глава 15. "Евгений Онегин"
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30. Боги (перевод С. В. Сакуна)
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31. Чарльз Кинбот: Серебристый свет. Подлинная жизнь Владимира Набокова. Chapter Three. Mashen'ka
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32. Роупер Р: Набоков в Америке. По дороге к «Лолите». Глава 13
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33. Грейсон Джейн: Метаморфозы "Дара"
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34. Долинин Александр: Комментарий к роману Владимира Набокова «Дар». Заглавие и имена героев
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35. Токер Л.: Набоков и этика камуфляжа
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36. Мейер Присцилла. "Бледный огонь" Владимира Набокова. 3. Англосаксы: король Альфред Великий
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37. Брайан Бойд. Владимир Набоков: американские годы. Глава 2. Заезжий лектор: Уэлсли и Кембридж, 1941–1942
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38. Бартон Д.Д.: Миры и антимиры Владимира Набокова. Часть I. Набоков — man of letters
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39. The Man of To-morrow’s Lament (Жалобная песнь Супермена)
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40. Комментарий к роману "Евгений Онегин". Глава пятая. Эпиграф, пункты I - XV
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41. Ильин С.: Комната. На перевод "Евгения Онегина"
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42. Предисловие к английскому переводу романа "Отчаяние" ("Despair")
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43. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. Wisconsin Studies, 1967 г.
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44. Долинин Александр: Комментарий к роману Владимира Набокова «Дар». Глава третья
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45. Джонсон Дональд Б.: Лабиринт инцеста в "Аде" Набокова
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46. Джонсон Д. Б.: Владимир Набоков и Руперт Брук
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47. Отчаяние. Предисловие автора к американскому изданию
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48. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. Bayerischer Rundfunk, 1971-72 г.
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49. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. The Paris Review, 1967 г.
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50. Набоков Дмитрий: Отцовские бабочки. Интервью данное Брайеном Бойдом журналу BOMB Magazine
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1. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter three
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Часть текста: — 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 ancientry.   The ritual of the treat is known:   in little dishes jams are brought,   on an oilcloth'd small table there is set   8  a jug of lingonberry water.   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . IV  ...
2. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter six
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Часть текста:   The beds are made. Guests are assigned   night lodgings — from the entrance hall 12  even to the maids' quarters. Restful sleep   by all is needed. My Onegin   alone has driven home to sleep. II   All has grown quiet. In the drawing room   the heavy Pustyakov   snores with his heavy better half.   4  Gvozdin, Buyanov, Petushkov,   and Flyanov (who is not quite well)   have bedded in the dining room on chairs,   with, on the floor, Monsieur Triquet   8  in underwaistcoat and old nightcap.   All the young ladies, in Tatiana's   and Olga's rooms, are wrapped in sleep.   Alone, sadly by Dian's beam 12  illumined at the window, poor Tatiana   is not asleep   and gazes out on the dark field. III   With his unlooked-for apparition,   the momentary softness of his eyes,   and odd conduct with Olga,   4  to the depth of her soul   she's penetrated. She is quite unable   to understand him. Jealous   anguish perturbs her,   8  as if a cold hand pressed   her heart; as if beneath her an abyss   yawned black and dinned....   “I shall perish,” says Tanya, 12  “but perishing from him is sweet.   I murmur not: why murmur?   He cannot give me happiness.” IV   Forward, forward, my story!   A new persona claims us.   Five versts from...
3. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter eight
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Часть текста:   in those days, in mysterious valleys,   in springtime, to the calls of swans,   near waters shining in the stillness,   8  the Muse began to visit me.   My student cell was all at once   radiant with light: in it the Muse   opened a banquet of young fancies, 12  sang childish gaieties,   and glory of our ancientry,   and the heart's tremulous dreams. II   And with a smile the world received her;   the first success provided us with wings;   the aged Derzhavin noticed us — and blessed us   4  as he descended to the grave.   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   8  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ...
4. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter seven
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Часть текста: hills the snows already   have run in turbid streams   4  onto the inundated fields.   With a serene smile, nature   greets through her sleep the morning of the year.   Bluing, the heavens shine.   8  The yet transparent woods   as if with down are greening.   The bee flies from her waxen cell   after the tribute of the field. 12  The dales grow dry and varicolored.   The herds are noisy, and the nightingale   has sung already in the hush of nights. II   How sad your apparition is to me,   spring, spring, season of love!   What a dark stir there is   4  in my soul, in my blood!   With what oppressive tenderness   I revel in the whiff   of spring fanning my face   8  in the lap of the rural stillness!   Or is enjoyment strange to me,   and all that gladdens, animates,   all that exults and gleams, 12  casts spleen and languishment   upon a soul long dead   and all looks dark to it? III   Or gladdened not by the return   of leaves that perished in the autumn,   a bitter loss we recollect,   4  harking to the new murmur of the woods;   or with reanimated nature we   compare in troubled thought   the withering of our years,   8  for which there is no renovation?   Perhaps there comes into our thoughts,   midst a poetical reverie,   some other ancient spring, 12  which sets our heart aquiver   with the dream of a distant clime,   a marvelous night, a moon.... IV   Now is the time: good lazybones,   epicurean sages; you,   equanimous fortunates;   4  you, fledglings of the Lyóvshin 41 school;   you, country Priams;   and sentimental ladies, you;   spring calls you to the...
5. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter one
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Часть текста: de vanité il avait encore plus de cette espèce d'orgueil qui fait avouer avec la même indifférence les bonnes comme les mauvaises actions, suite d'un sentiment de supériorité, peut-être imaginaire. Tiré d'une lettre particulière   Not thinking to amuse the haughty world,   having grown fond of friendship's heed,   I wish I could present you with a gage   4  that would be worthier of you —   be worthier of a fine soul   full of a holy dream,   of live and limpid poetry,   8  of high thoughts and simplicity.   But so be it. With partial hand   take this collection of pied chapters:   half droll, half sad, 12  plain-folk, ideal,   the careless fruit of my amusements,   insomnias, light inspirations,   unripe and withered years, 16  the intellect's cold observations,   and the heart's sorrowful remarks. CHAPTER ONE To live it hurries and to feel it hastes. Prince Vyazemski I   “My uncle has most honest principles:   when he was taken gravely ill,   he forced one to respect him   4  and nothing better could invent.   To others his example is a lesson;   but, good God, what a bore to sit   by a sick person day and night, not stirring   8  a step away!   What base perfidiousness   to entertain one half-alive,   adjust for him his pillows, 12  sadly serve him his medicine,   sigh — and think inwardly   when will the devil take you?” II   Thus a young scapegrace thought   as with post horses in the dust he flew,   by the most lofty will of Zeus   4  the heir of all his kin.   Friends of Lyudmila and Ruslan!   The hero of my novel,   without preambles, forthwith,   8...
6. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter two
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Часть текста: one could glimpse hamlets here and there;   herds roamed the meadows; 12  and its dense coverts spread   a huge neglected garden, the retreat   of pensive dryads. II   The venerable castle   was built as castles should be built:   excellent strong and comfortable   4  in the taste of sensible ancientry.   Tall chambers everywhere,   hangings of damask in the drawing room,   portraits of grandsires on the walls,   8  and stoves with varicolored tiles.   All this today is obsolete,   I really don't know why;   and anyway it was a matter 12  of very little moment to my friend,   since he yawned equally amidst   modish and olden halls. III   He settled in that chamber where the rural   old-timer had for forty years or so   squabbled with his housekeeper,   4  looked through the window, and squashed flies.   It all was plain: a floor of oak, two cupboards,   a table, a divan of down,   and not an ink speck anywhere. Onegin   8  opened the cupboards; found in one   a notebook of expenses and in the other   a whole array of fruit liqueurs,  ...
7. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 9 - 16
Входимость: 9. Размер: 59кб.
Часть текста: and only a year older than my aging mistress, had obviously long ceased to be a nymphet, if she ever had been one. Eva Rosen, a displaced little person from France, was on the other hand a good example of a not strikingly beautiful child revealing to the perspicacious amateur some of the basic elements of nymphet charm, such as a perfect pubescent figure and lingering eyes and high cheekbones. Her glossy copper hair had Lolita’s silkiness, and the features of her delicate milky-white face with pink lips and silverfish eyelashes were less foxy than those of her likesthe great clan of intra-racial redheads; nor did she sport their green uniform but wore, as I remember her, a lot of black or cherry darka very smart black pullover, for instance, and high-heeled black shoes, and garnet-red fingernail polish. I spoke French to her (much to Lo’s disgust). The child’s tonalities were still admirably pure, but for school words and play words she resorted to current American and then a slight Brooklyn accent would crop up in her speech, which was amusing in a little Parisian who went to a select New England school with phoney British aspirations. Unfortunately, despite “that French kid’s uncle” being “a millionaire,” Lo dropped Eva for some reason before I had had time to enjoy in my modest way her fragrant presence in the Humbert open house. The reader knows what importance I attached to having a bevy of page girls, consolation prize nymphets, around my Lolita. For a while, I endeavored to interest my senses in Mona Dahl who was a good deal around, especially during the spring term when Lo and she got so enthusiastic about dramatics. I have often wondered what secrets outrageously treacherous Dolores Haze had imparted to ...
8. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter four
Входимость: 8. Размер: 54кб.
Часть текста: debauch   was lauded as the art of love,   trumpeting everywhere about itself,   8  taking its pleasure without loving.   But that grand game   is worthy of old sapajous   of our forefathers' 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 in a twinkle;   4  when they betrayed, was glad to rest.   He sought them without rapture,   while he left them without regret,   hardly remembering their love and spite.   8  Exactly thus does an...
9. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 12 - 17
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Часть текста: children. But for almost three weeks I had been interrupted in all my pathetic machinations. The agent of these interruptions was usually the Haze woman (who, as the reader will mark, was more afraid of Lo’s deriving some pleasure from me than of my enjoying Lo). The passion I had developed for that nymphetfor the first nymphet in my life that could be reached at last by my awkward, aching, timid clawswould have certainly landed me again in a sanatorium, had not the devil realized that I was to be granted some relief if he wanted to have me as a plaything for some time longer. The reader has also marked the curious Mirage of the Lake. It would have been logical on the part of Aubrey McFate (as I would like to dub that devil of mine) to arrange a small treat for me on the promised beach, in the presumed forest. Actually, the promise Mrs. Haze had made was a fraudulent one: she had not told me that Mary Rose Hamilton (a dark little beauty in her own right) was to come too, and that the two nymphets would be whispering apart, and playing apart, and having a good time all by themselves, while Mrs. Haze and her handsome lodger conversed sedately in the seminude, far from prying eyes. Incidentally, eyes did pry and tongues did wag. How queer life is! We hasten to alienate the very fates we intended to woo. Before my actual arrival, my landlady had planned to...
10. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 3 - 8
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Часть текста: 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 of leporine fascinationis no doubt anxious to have me take Lolita to the seaside and have me find there, at last, the “gratification” of a lifetime urge, and release from the “subconscious” obsession of an incomplete childhood romance with the initial little Miss Lee. Well, comrade, let me tell you that I did   look for a beach, though I also have to confess that by the time we reached its mirage of gray water, so many...