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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
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
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1. Чарльз Кинбот: Серебристый свет. Подлинная жизнь Владимира Набокова. Chapter One. On Visiting Nabokov's Tomb
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2. Чарльз Кинбот: Серебристый свет. Подлинная жизнь Владимира Набокова. Chapter Seven. King, Queen, Knave
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3. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. BBC-2, 1968 г.
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4. Butterfly collecting in Wyoming, 1952
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5. Бабиков А. А.: Прочтение Набокова. Изыскания и материалы. О внутреннем и внешнем действии драмы Набокова «Событие»
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6. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 22 - 26
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7. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 23 - 27
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8. Здесь говорят по-русски (перевод С. Сакуна)
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9. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter eight
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10. Набоков Дмитрий: Отцовские бабочки. Отцовские бабочки. Father's Butterflies (английский язык)
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11. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 27 - 31
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12. Articles about butterflies
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13. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 3 - 8
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14. Бартон Д.Д.: Миры и антимиры Владимира Набокова. Часть II. Набоков — анаграммист
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15. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 1 - 8
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16. Букс Нора: Эшафот в хрустальном дворце. О русских романах Владимира Набокова. Глава VI. Роман-оборотень
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17. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 18 - 22
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18. Млечко А.В.: Игра, метатекст, трикстер: пародия в «русских» романах В.В. Набокова. Список условных сокращений используемой литературы
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19. Комментарий к роману "Евгений Онегин". Глава шестая. Пункты XXXI - XLVI
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Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах

1. Чарльз Кинбот: Серебристый свет. Подлинная жизнь Владимира Набокова. Chapter One. On Visiting Nabokov's Tomb
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Часть текста: or, more often, stating explicitly, that although all these fine folks were instrumental in establishing the book's final form, none of them can be held responsible for any of the lapses or idiocies to be found therein; for these the author alone must answer. I have opted, against the protestations of my editor, to forego this tiresome ritual. Every word, every thought, every mark of punctuation in this work is my own, except where stated otherwise according to the dictates of careful scholarship. Certainly the comments (solicited or not) of many persons have guided me in perfecting my book, but only insofar as they served as signposts of exactly the type of tired tripe I wished to avoid. The most common of these was a chilly "You can't do that," as if my book were violating some immemorial cosmic law. For all their carping about institutional constraints on the freedom of their thought and work, my fellow academicians (and even many of you, self-styled "Nabokovians") have revealed themselves to be virulently censorial when confronted by the weird fruit of my research. Few things are more depressing to an intelligent person than the revelation that a whole league of supposedly enlightened literati is in fact...
2. Чарльз Кинбот: Серебристый свет. Подлинная жизнь Владимира Набокова. Chapter Seven. King, Queen, Knave
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Часть текста: King, Queen, Knave   "Kollektsiia duratskikh fizionomii i zamuchennykh veshchei." ( Korol', dama, valet , 242) 1 Rather than dwell on the unpleasant and, truth be told, unforeseen afteraffects of my visit to Madame Fat and the mysterious events pursuant thereto, I shall now discuss matters more literary, less metaphysical, partly in the interest of the maintenance of my own mental equilibrium, partly in response to what an impartial observer would certainly characterize as the overly vociferous behest of my good, but sometimes impatient, editor, who enjoined me, in a fax sent to the seedy but comfortable hotel in Villefranche-sur-Mer where I was recovering from recent scholarly labors, to "get on with it." (Incidentally, the sea softly plashing against the sandy edge of this charming townlet is, at noon, a deep azure hue, recalling a certain lake in my homeland, a distant northern land. And at night, I have noticed on my insomniac rambles, the moon casts slivers of silvery light upon the ink-black waters. Do remind me to say more of this later.) The original contract for this book (signed three years ago with a then noticeably more solicitous publisher whose name I am legally bound not to mention) stipulated that the text be comprised not only of biography proper (of which the reader has already enjoyed, I trust, a taste) but also of criticism of each of Nabokov's books. In lieu of any sensible reason not to proceed in any but a chronological, or pseudo-chronological,...
3. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. BBC-2, 1968 г.
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Часть текста: Garnham interviewed me at the Montreux Palace for Release, BBC-2. The interview was faithfully reproduced in The Listener, October 10, of the same year: a neat and quick job. I have used its title for the present collection. You have mid your novels have 'no social purpose, no moral message. ' What is the function of your novels in particular and of the novel in general? One of the functions of all my novels is to prove that the novel in general does not exist. The book I make is a subjective and specific affair. I have no purpose at all when composing my stuff except to compose it. I work hard, I work long, on a body of words until it grants me complete possession and pleasure. If the reader has to work in his turn-- so much the better. Art is difficult. Easy art is what you see at modern exhibitions of things and doodles. In your prefaces you constantly mock Freud, the Viennese witchdoctor. Why should I tolerate a perfect stranger at the bedside of my mind? I may have aired this before but I'd like to repeat that I detest not one but four doctors: Dr. Freud, Dr. Zhivago, Dr. Schweitzer, and Dr. Castro. Of course, the first takes the fig, as the fellows say in the dissecting-room. I've no intention to dream the drab middle-class dreams of an Austrian crank with a shabby umbrella. I also suggest that the Freudian faith leads to dangerous ethical consequences, such as when a filthy murderer with the brain of a tapeworm is given a lighter sentence because his mother spanked him too much or too little-- it works both ways. The Freudian racket looks to me as much of a farce as the jumbo thingurn of polished wood with a polished hole in the middle which doesn't represent anything except the gaping face of the Philistine who is told it is a great sculpture produced by the greatest living caveman. The novel on which you are working is, I believe, about 'time'? How do you see 'time'? My new novel (now 800 typed...
4. Butterfly collecting in Wyoming, 1952
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Часть текста: Western Wyoming: sagebrush, approximately 6,500 ft. alt. immediately east of Dubois along the (well-named) Wind River; western Shoshone and Teton National Forests, following admirable paved road 26, from Dubois towards Moran over Togwotee Pass (9,500 ft. alt.); near Moran, on Buffalo River, approximately 7,000 ft. alt.; traveling through the construction hell of the city of Jackson, and bearing southeast along paved 187 to The Rim (7,900 ft. alt.); and, finally, spending most of August in collecting around the altogether enchanting little town of Afton (on paved 89, along the Idaho border), approximately 7,000 ft. alt., mainly in canyons east of the town, and in various spots of Bridger National Forest, Southwestern part, along trails up to 9,000 ft. alt. Most of the material collected has gone to the Cornell University Museum; the rest to the American Museum of Natural History and the Museum of Comparative Zoology. The best hunting grounds proved to be: the Sierra Madre at about 8,000 ft. alt., where on some forest trails I found among other things a curious form (? S. secreta dos Passos & Grey) of Speyeria egleis Bchr flying in numbers with S. atlantis hesperis Edw. and S. hydaspepurpurascensti. Edw., a very eastern locality for the latter; still better were the forests, meadows, and marshes about Togwotee Pass in the third week of July, where the generally early emergences of the season were exemplified by great quantities of Erebia theona ethda Edw. and E. callias callias Edw. already on the wing; very good, too, were some of the canyons near Afton. Here are a few notes on w^hat interested me most in the field: Boloria, Colias, certain Blues, and...
5. Бабиков А. А.: Прочтение Набокова. Изыскания и материалы. О внутреннем и внешнем действии драмы Набокова «Событие»
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Часть текста: что Достоевский по натуре был несостоявшимся драматургом . Те короткие стихотворные драмы, которые Набоков публиковал в начале 20‑х годов («Скитальцы», «Смерть», «Полюс» и др.), относились к жанру пьес для чтения (Lesedrama) и не предназначались для постановки; большая «Трагедия господина Морна» (1924) вопреки его надеждам не только не была поставлена, но и не была издана при его жизни. Дебют Набокова‑драматурга состоялся в 1927 году, когда Юрий Офросимов поставил в Берлине его драму из эмигрантской жизни «Человек из СССР» [150], и после ее единственного представления Набоков к драматургии не обращался десять лет. Неожиданный успех Сирина‑драматурга связан с постановкой «Русским театром» в Париже «драматической комедии» «Событие» (1937), за которой вскоре последовала технически самая совершенная его драма «Изобретение Вальса», не попавшая на подмостки из‑за начавшейся войны [151]. Неожиданность успеха «События», разумеется, мнимая. Освоенные Набоковым в тридцатых годах художественные приемы и методы не только предопределили его зрелую драматургию, обусловили и оправдали ее, но, в свою очередь, и две последние его пьесы отбросили неожиданно яркий свет на лучшие его романы 30‑х годов, «Приглашение ...
6. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 22 - 26
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Часть текста: mania, recurrent images based on coincidence and chance resemblance. Soyons   logiques  , crowed the cocky Gallic part of my brainand proceeded to rout the notion of a Lolita-maddened salesman or comedy gangster, with stooges, persecuting me, and hoaxing me, and otherwise taking riotous advantage of my strange relations with the law. I remember humming my panic away. I remember evolving even an explanation of 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...
7. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 23 - 27
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Часть текста: 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...
8. Здесь говорят по-русски (перевод С. Сакуна)
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Часть текста: бархата ютились пёстрые папиросные коробки, с именами облечёнными в глянцевые международные диалекты, которые с таким же успехом служат названиями гостиниц; повыше располагались ряды папирос, ухмыляющиеся в их легковесных домиках. В своё время Мартын был обеспеченным помещиком. Он был славен в моих детских воспоминаниях замечательным трактором, во времена, когда я и его сын Петя одновременно стали жертвами Майн Рида и скарлатины, так, что теперь, после пятнадцати лет битком набитых всяческими вещами, я с удовольствием останавливался у этой табачной лавки, на этом оживленном углу, где Мартын продавал свой товар. Но с прошлого года нас связывало больше чем общие воспоминания. У Мартына была тайна, и я участвовал в этой тайне. “Ну, всё как обычно?” Спрашивал я шёпотом, и он, глянув поверх плеча, отвечал так же тихо, “да, слава богу, всё спокойно”. Эта тайна была совершенно необычайной. Я вспомнил, как уезжал в Париж и как за день до отъезда просидел до вечера у Мартына. Душу человека можно сравнить с универсальным магазином, а его глаза с двумя витринными окнами. Прицениваясь к глазам Мартына, отметим, что тёпло-коричневые тона были в моде. Судя по глазам, товар в этой душе был отменного качества. А какая пышная борода довольно поблёскивала здоровой русской сединой....
9. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter eight
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Часть текста: 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  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . III   And I, setting myself for law   only the arbitrary will of passions,   sharing emotions with the crowd,   4  I led my frisky Muse into the hubbub   of feasts and turbulent discussions —   the terror of midnight patrols;   and to them, in mad feasts,   8  she brought her gifts,   and like a little bacchante frisked,   over the bowl sang for the guests;   and the young people of past days 12  would turbulently dangle after her;   and I was proud 'mong friends   of my volatile mistress. IV   But I dropped out of their alliance...
10. Набоков Дмитрий: Отцовские бабочки. Отцовские бабочки. Father's Butterflies (английский язык)
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Часть текста: notion of the fauna of Europe, including Russia, was compelled to scrabble for his crumbs of information in entomological journals in six languages and in multivolume, hard-to-find editions such as the Oberthьr books or those of Grand Duke Nikolai Mikhailovich. The absence or utter inadequacy of "references" in the atlases ad usum Delphini, the tedious perusal of the index of names enclosed with an annual volume of a monthly journal, the sheer number of these journals and volumes (in my father's library there were more than a thousand of the latter alone, representing a good hundred journals) - all this had to be overcome in order to hunt down the necessary reference, if it existed at all. Nonetheless, even in my exceptionally propitious situation things were not easy: Russia, particularly in the north, dwelt in a mist, while the local lists, scattered through the journals, totally haphazard, scanty, and cruelly inaccurate in nomenclature, only maddened me when at last I ferreted them out. My father was the preeminent entomologist of his time, and very well off to boot, but the ordinary amateur, unable to dispatch his scouts throughout Russia, and denied the opportunity - or not knowing how - to gain access to specialized collections and libraries (and an accidental boon, the hasty inspection of collections at a lepidopterological society or in the cellar of some museum, does not satisfy the true enthusiast, who needs to have the boon always at hand), had no choice but to hope for a miracle....