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Часть текста: 2 Nabokov S Butterflies, с. 436-437. 3 Там же, с. 52. 4 “Из переписки Владимира Набокова и Эдмонда Уилсона”. Набоков относился к своим зубам на удивление равнодушно. 25 декабря 1943 г. он писал другу, Роману Гринбергу: “Дантист с треском вырвал у меня все верхние зубы. Я в продолжение месяца ходил с голым ртом, а потом старался привыкнуть к объемистому и хлюпающему ratelier (зубной протез - прим. перев .). Теперь привык - и только иногда замечаю, что собеседник украдкой вытирает то щеку, то бровь (когда слишком стремительно говорю что-нибудь) и перемигивает”. Здесь и далее письма Гринбергу цитируются по изданию: Рашит Янгиров “Друзья, бабочки и монстры: из переписки Владимира и Веры Набоковых с Романом Гринбергом. 1943-1967” // Диаспора: новые материалы. Альманах. 2001, №1. Париж, Atheneum - Спб., Феникс. 5 Pitzer, с. 173-174. Первый французский концлагерь для евреев, Дранси, появился в 1941 г. Рейс, которым уехали Набоковы, стал для “Шамплена” последним: по возвращении во Францию пароход подорвался на мине и затонул на рейде. 6 Bakh, письмо Веры Гольденвейзер, 26 июля 1941 г....
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Часть текста: Набоков) 10. В туманное небытие 10 В туманное небытие Врет, как очевидец. Русское изречение 1 С приближением семидесятилетия у Веры появилось отчетливое ощущение, что время — то самое время, вне которого она позволяла жить мужу, чтобы тот мог смирять, обманывать, упразднять и отрицать его в своем творчестве, — внезапно стало ускорять свой ход. Вера уже потеряла счет многочисленным изданиям книг Владимира; она не смогла ответить на вопрос Лазара, существует ли издание «Отчаяния» в мягкой обложке. Спустя два дня после Рождества 1971 года она отправила Эндрю Филду свои поправки к создаваемой им биографии: «Прошу прощения за разрозненные куски. Не могу Вам передать, как часто мне приходится отвлекаться по разным поводам в своей работе, мой письменный стол буквально завален неотвеченными или полуотвеченными письмами и т. д. и т. д.». Все праздники для Веры превратились теперь в праздники водителя автобуса. Слава Богу, замечал Дмитрий, «чистые...
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Часть текста: that all the translations are by Dmitri Nabokov. However, in the introductory A Note on the Texts it clearly states that: "Translations are by Brian Boyd unless otherwise noted." (A number are noted as being by Nabokov fils, but certainly not all.) From the Reviews: "Some selectivity could have made for a more accessible volume, though the care with which it has been assembled is an impressive testament to the deep devotion that Nabokov continues to inspire almost 25 years after his death. Apart from entomologists and Nabokov fans, it is difficult to imagine that many readers will last the enormous distance." - Simon Caterson, The Age "While few readers will want to study the scientific articles reprinted here, their presence in this striking miscellany operates in subtle ways to remind us that Nabokov (who referred to himself as VN), was also a student "of that other VN, Visible Nature"." - Jay Parini, The Guardian "Nabokovian humour shines through these writings, illustrated by a note he penned to Hugh Hefner pointing out how the carefully positioned wings and eyespot of a butterfly can be made to look like the Playboy bunny motif." - Steve Connor, The Independent "This book glistens like a rainforest: swarming with sap and colour, with love and...
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Часть текста: 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 passport and sport. Why did I hope we would be...
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Часть текста: my adolescence, the butterfly enthusiast (" le curieux, " as the honnкtes gens used to put it in judicious France, " the aurelian, " as the poets said in grove-rich England, the "fly doctor," as they wisecracked in advanced Russian circles) who wished to acquire from books a general 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. And that miracle dawned in 1912 with the appearance of my father's...
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Часть текста: 53-63, 172, 174, 177. Ahuja, Nitin. “Nabokov’s Case Against Natural Selection.” Tract, 2012. http:// www.hcs.harvard.edu/tract/nabokov. html. Alden, Peter D. “H.M. C. Climbing Camp, 1953.” Harvard Mountaineering, no. 12 (May 1955). Alexander, Victoria N. “Nabokov, Teleology, and Insect Mimicry. ” Nabokov Studies 7 (2002-2003): 177-213. Alexandrov, Vladimir E. “Nabokov and Bely.” In Alexandrov. Garland Companion. Alexandrov, Vladimir E. Nabokov’s Otherworld. Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University Press, 1991. Alexandrov, Vladimir E., ed. The Garland Companion to Vladimir Nabokov. New York: Garland, 1995. Altschuler, Glenn, Kramnick, Isaac. “«Red Cornell»: Cornell in the Cold War, ” part 1. Cornell Alumni Magazine, July 2010. Amis, Martin. “Divine Levity: The Reputation of Vladimir Nabokov Is High and Growing Higher and There Is Much More Work Still to Come.” Times Literary Supplement, December 23 and 30, 2011, 3-5. Amis, Martin. “The Sublime and the Ridiculous: Nabokov’s Black Farces”. In Quennell. Vladimir Nabokov, His Life. Amis, Martin. Visiting Mrs. Nabokov and Other Excursions. New York: Vintage International, 1995. Appel, Alfred, Jr. “The Road to Lolita, or the Americanization of an Emigre.” Journal of Modern Literature 4 (1974): 3-31. Appel, Alfred, Jr. Nabokov’s Dark Cinema . New York: Oxford University Press, 1974. Appel, Alfred, Jr., ed. The Annotated Lolita. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1970. Appel, Alfred, Jr., Newman, Charles, eds. Nabokov: Criticism, Reminiscences, Translations, and Tributes. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1971. Bahr, Ehrhard. Weimar on the Pacific: German Exile Culture in Los Angeles and the Crisis of Modernism. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007. Baker, Nicholson. U and I: A True Story. New York: Vintage, 1992. Banta, Martha....
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Часть текста: и раньше. В связи с этим вспоминаются и девочка-подросток Матреша из «Бесов» Достоевского, и девчушка из «Распада атома» Г. Иванова, и Оля Мещерская из «Легкого дыхания», и девочки из рассказа «Зойка и Валерия» И.Бунина и не только. Следует заметить, что до «Лолиты» Набоков написал повесть «Волшебник» (1939), где уже наметилась концептуально коллизия будущего скандального романа. Безымянный герой повести Набокова проделывает аналогичный маневр Гумберта Гумберта (главного героя романа «Лолита») - женится на женщине, к дочери которой он испытывает запретную страсть. И этот пассаж влюбленного афериста позволяет ему оказаться в непосредственной близости с объектом тайных вожделений. Исследование запретной страсти или, как бы сказал немецкий писатель Т Манн, «больничной темы», было присуще авторам европейской и русской литературы начала ХХ века с последующим продолжением и во второй половине прошлого столетия. Рассказ Т.Манна «Смерть в Венеции» (1911), с еще более спорными подробностями, - яркое свидетельство того, как интимно-эксклюзивная тема и частное ее исследование приобретает формат литературного клише. Иначе говоря, тезис «человек имеет право» в творческой лаборатории писателя становится не только основой разновидности скандально-привлекательного сюжета, способного развлечь читателя, но и становится вектором в развитии литературы трансатлантизма с ее жесткими рамками выбранных тем. В связи с проблемой свободы личности уместно вспомнить Э. Фромма и цитату из его книги «Бегство от свободы», где говорится : «Подлинное «я» является создателем своих психологических проявлений. Псевдо-«я» лишь исполняет роль, предписанную ему со стороны, но делает это от своего имени. Человек может играть множество ролей и быть субъективно уверенным, что каждая из них - это он.» [6, с. 173]....
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Часть текста: 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 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...
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Часть текста: you so? My sense of places is Nabokovian rather than Proustian. With regard to Montreux there are many attractions-- nice people, near mountains, regular mails, headquarters at a comfortable hotel. We dwell in the older part of the Palace Hotel, in its original part really, which was all that existed a hundred and fifty years ago (you can still see that initial inn and our future windows in old prints of 1840 or so). Our quarters consist of several tiny rooms with two and a half bathrooms, the result of two apartments having been recently fused. The sequence is: kitchen, living-dining room, my wife's room, my room, a former kitchenette now full of my papers, and our son's former room, now converted into a study. The apartment is! cluttered with books, folders, and files. What might be termed rather grandly a library is a back room housing my published works, and there are additional shelves in the attic whose skylight is much frequented by pigeons and Alpine choughs. I am giving this meticulous description to refute a distortion in an interview published recently in another New York magazine-- a long piece with embarrassing misquotations, wrong intonations, and false exchanges in the course of which I am made to dismiss the scholarship of a dear friend as "pedantry" and to poke ambiguous fun at a manly writer's tragic fate. Is there any truth in the rumor that you are thinking of leaving Montreux forever? Well, there is a rumor that sooner or later everybody living now in Montreux will leave it forever. Lolita is an extraordinary Baedecker of the United States. What fascinated you about American motels?...
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Часть текста: In butterfly circles, Nabokov was a monarch. Butterflies and literature were Nabokov's twin passions. He started in 1906, aged seven, when he caught his first specimen on his family estate. A few years later, Nabokov was precocious enough to think he had found a new species, only to have his dreams dashed. Undaunted, he set out on a life of butterfly hunting, interspersed with equally passionate forays into fiction. Nabokov not only realised his dream of finding a new species; he had several named after him. He became an authority on the taxonomy of a family known as the "Blues". "It is not improbable," he said, "that had there been no revolution in Russia, I would have devoted myself entirely to lepidopterology." To him, butterflies represented a form of immortality, whereby the asexual, shuffling caterpillar transmogrified after "death" into an aerial acrobat with the sexual potency to impart a physical presence to future generations. Although not avowedly religious, Nabokov suspected a conscious design to the world and thought it likely, according to his biographer, Brian Boyd, that there was some transformation of human consciousness beyond death. The astounding metamorphosis of ugly bug into beautiful, if ephemeral, butterfly epitomised this magical passage of the upwardly mobile soul. "We are the caterpillars of angels," he wrote. At Trinity College, Cambridge, Nabokov switched from natural sciences to French and Russian literature....