Владимир Набоков: Поиск по текстам произведений автора и критике. Cлово "JACK". Классическая русская литература.

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Часть текста: Chapter Ten America America, I recall with fondness my first landing on your shores, despite the atrocious weather and the surly customs official who wanted to search the small velvet purse I had secreted on my person, discovered during a summary patdown after I had been unable to respond satisfactorily to questions simple for a private citizen but p?nibles , as the French say, for an exiled king. My attempts to stoop, and to scrape, and my hastily concocted disguise (Zemblan-born French scholar)--tweedy jacket with worn leather patches on the elbows, hand-carved pipe stuffed with lavender-scented tobacco--were apparently unsuccessful in completely masking the sheen of royalty I was accustomed to exuding. Yes, they found the jewels, but that is a tale for another time. I was met at the station by an envoy, if that's not too grand a word, from the university, whom I did not immediately recognize despite the rectangle of cardstock he held chest-high with my adopted moniker carefully lettered on it. He was so young I looked right past him, toward an elderly gentleman in a dark uniform who corresponded to the mental image of natty chauffeur I had formed during the crossing. When I accosted him with a question and a questioning expression, he shook his head and stared past me, as if I weren't there. I gathered from his stony rebuff that I was only one in a series of persons to have mistaken him for their driver. Looking around, I spotted the person I had previously missed, and marveled at my having missed not only my new name, prominently displayed, but at my having failed to notice and acknowledge such an attractive youth. The blond lock covering his forehead almost obscured his electric blue eyes. He wore a very long, very shaggy overcoat of sorts, unbuttoned, and a crisp light blue oxford shirt, the tails of which were tucked into incongruously soiled dungarees. Grease from the machine shop? Dirt from a good-natured...

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Часть текста: 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....

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Часть текста: in my dread of arousing suspicion, I would eagerly pay for both sections of one double unit, each containing a double bed. I wondered what type of foursome this arrangement was even intended for, since only a pharisaic parody of privacy could be attained by means of the incomplete partition dividing the cabin or room into two communicating love nests. By and by, the very possibilities that such honest promiscuity suggested (two young couples merrily swapping mates or a child shamming sleep to earwitness primal sonorities) made me bolder, and every now and then I would take a bed-and-cot or twin-bed cabin, a prison cell or paradise, with yellow window shades pulled down to create a morning illusion of Venice and sunshine when actually it was Pennsylvania and rain. We came to know nous connmes, to use a Flaubertian intonationthe stone cottages under enormous Chateaubriandesque trees, the brick unit, the adobe unit, the stucco court, on what the Tour Book of the Automobile Association describes as “shaded” or “spacious” or...

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Часть текста: 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 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,...

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Часть текста: доме номер 106 по Хэмптон-роуд, по поводу которого у Веры на целый семестр хватило разговоров. Блох, слава Богу, там не оказалось; но как быть с назойливым лунным светом? (Профессор Вигендт с женой, сами только что въехавшие, предложили завесить окна шторами или на крайний случай простынями.) У Герберта Вигендта обнаружились и ответные претензии, которые, когда Набоковы переместились в Кембридж, он 10 февраля 1953 года без обиняков высказал Владимиру в письме. В основном претензии касались ущерба, причиненного только что положенному в кухне линолеуму, а также испарившегося набора ножей. С обратной почтой пришло объяснение: «Вашего столового серебра мы не трогали. Ножи ваши в глаза не видели. Ничем плитку в вашей ванной на первом этаже не терли, ни едким, никаким иным средством», — парирует Вера под именем Владимира и добавляет: «И совершенно не способствовали „задиранию“ вашего линолеума». Так называемое общение с большинством преподавателей и их женами могло, в зависимости от...

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Часть текста: прочтение всё, написанное мной, и учитывал ее подробнейшие замечания относительно стиля, фактического материала и интерпретации каждой из частей книги на всех стадиях работы над ней. Оживленные, а подчас и горячие споры, которые порой вспыхивали между нами, никогда не означали посягательства на мою свободу писать то, в чем убеждали меня факты. Дмитрию Набокову не раз приходилось примирять мою потребность в получении информации с его собственным сильным желанием, следуя обыкновению родителей, оберегать их частную жизнь. Хотя Дмитрий Владимирович всегда резко реагирует на какие бы то ни было негативные высказывания в адрес отца, основанные на незнании и непонимании, он также уважал и защищал мою независимость и право на оценку — подчас довольно суровую — некоторых из набоковских произведений. Сестра Владимира Набокова, Елена Сикорская, всегда была готова стать моим проводником по прошлому, которое они с братом вместе пережили, и поделиться со мной информацией, которую она получила из многочисленных источников в Советском Союзе. Брюссельский кузен писателя, Сергей Набоков, предоставил мне все известные ему сведения о генеалогии семьи Набоковых, Сергей Набоков, Елена Сикорская и Дмитрий Набоков также высказали подробные замечания по поводу тех глав книги, в которых идет речь о хорошо им...

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Часть текста: подобно тому как в оригинале оставлены без перевода многие русские jeux d’esprit и de mots , и послал на ее усмотрение две или три главки из середины книги. Она нашла, что перевод мой неудачен, и решила отказаться от самой мысли переводить "Аду" на русский язык. В отношении моей пробной попытки она была права, там было много неловкой акробатики, которую можно было принять за своевольную отсебятину. Но вскоре после этого я начал переводить "Севастьяна Найта", не помню теперь, по ее предложению или по моему, пытаясь держаться, как это было при переводе "Пнина", принципа дословной верности подлиннику, но в то же время пользуясь возможностями доступного мне языка гораздо свободнее, чем я это себе там позволил. Мне казалось, что ради верного воспроизведения оттенка смысла и слога в дело годны едва ли не любые подручные средства: так тень собаки на освещенной стене может быть изображена хитросплетением пальцев. И вот я старался переводить "инде слово в слово, инде же умышление во умышление", как сказал король Альфред. И так как на русский язык переводилось английское сочинение русского писателя, мне хотелось выветрить сколько возможно запах операционной, которым почти всегда отдает перевод. Первая глава была кончена вчерне в 1988 году, но вмешались другие занятия, работа прервалась и по смерти Веры Набоковой не возобновлялась. Тем временем в 1990-е годы в Москве стали вкривь и вкось издавать сочинения Набокова, в том числе два или три переложения этой книги[10]. Я же, напротив, совсем оставил переводы и обратился к другим занятиям. Но два года тому назад, когда затеялась новая серия изданий Набокова по-русски в "Азбуке" и его сын предложил мне перевести эту книгу заново, я перечитал это старое свое упражнение и остался им скорее доволен[11]. То был первый роман, сочиненный Набоковым по-английски – в декабре 1938-го и январе 1939 года в Париже, в...

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Часть текста: I at last reached the States. In New York I eagerly accepted the soft job fate offered me: it consisted mainly of thinking up and editing perfume ads. I welcomed its desultory character and pseudoliterary aspects, attending to it whenever I had nothing better to do. On the other hand, I was urged by a war-time university in New York to complete my comparative history of French literature for English-speaking students. The first volume took me a couple of years during which I put in seldom less than fifteen hours of work daily. As I look back on those days, I see them divided tidily into ample light and narrow shade: the light pertaining to the solace of research in palatial libraries, the shade to my excruciating desires and insomnias of which enough has been said. Knowing me by now, the reader can easily imagine how dusty and hot I got, trying to catch a glimpse of nymphets (alas, always remote) playing in Central Park, and how repulsed I was by the glitter of deodorized career girls that a gay dog in one of the offices kept unloading upon me. Let us skip all that. A dreadful breakdown sent me to a sanatorium for more than a year; I went back to my workonly to be hospitalized again. Robust outdoor life seemed to promise me some relief. One of my favorite doctors, a charming cynical chap with a little brown beard, had a brother, and this brother was about to lead an expedition into arctic Canada. I was attached to it as a “recorder of psychic reactions.” With two young botanists and an old carpenter I shared now and then (never very successfully) the favors of one of our nutritionists, a Dr. Anita...

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Часть текста: of which such a marvelous gift must be free; for I knew what pains the editors, Charles Newman and Alfred Appel, had taken to prepare it and remembered how firmly the guest co-editor, when collecting the ingredients of this great feast, refused to show me any plum or crumb before publication. BUTTERFLIES Butterflies are among the most thoughtful and touching contributions to this volume. The old-fashioned engraving of a Catagramma- like insect is delightfully reproduced twelve times so as to suggest a double series or "block" of specimens in a cabinet case; and there is a beautiful photograph of a Red Admirable (but "Nymphalidae" is the family to which it belongs, not its genus, which is Vanessa-- my first bit of carping). ALFRED APPEL, JR. Mr. Appel, guest co-editor, writes about my two main works of fiction. His essay "Backgrounds of Lolita" is a superb example of the rare case where art and erudition meet in a shining ridge of specific information (the highest and to me most acceptable function of literary criticism). I would have liked to say more about his findings but modesty (a virtue that the average reviewer especially appreciates in authors) denies me that pleasure. His other piece in this precious collection is "Ada Described." I planted three blunders, meant to ridicule mistranslations of Russian classics, in the first paragraph of my Ada: the opening sentence of Anna Karenin (no additional "a," printer, she was not a ballerina) is turned inside out; Anna Arkadievna's patronymic is given a grotesque masculine ending; and the title of Tolstoy's family chronicle has been botched by the invented Stoner or Lower (I must have received at least a dozen letters with clarifications and corrections from indignant or puzzled readers, some of them of Russian...

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Часть текста: of his principal guidelines for writing, reading, and performing plays. The reader is urged to bear in mind, however, that, later in life, Father might have expressed certain thoughts differently. The lectures were partly in typescript and partly in manuscript, replete with Nabokov's corrections, additions, deletions, occasional slips of the pen, and references to previous and subsequent installments of the course. I have limited myself to what editing seemed necessary for the presentation of the lectures in essay form. If Nabokov had been alive, he might perhaps have performed more radical surgery. He might also have added that the gruesome throes of realistic suicide he finds unacceptable onstage (in "The Tragedy of Tragedy") are now everyday fare on kiddies' TV, while "adult" entertainment has long since outdone all the goriness of the Grand Guignol. He might have observed that the aberrations of theatrical method wherein the illusion of a barrier between stage and audience is shattered - a phenomenon he considered "freakish" - are...

Поиск по творчеству и критикеCлово "JACK"

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Cлово "JACK"