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

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Часть текста: 4 might have blessed heaven there. The manor house, secluded, screened from the winds by a hill, stood above a river; in the distance, 8 before it, freaked and flowered, lay meadows and golden grainfields; 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 All this today is obsolete, I really don't know why; and anyway it was a matter 12 of very little moment to my friend, since he yawned equally amidst modish and olden halls.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 ...

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Часть текста: 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 I'd like to have you meet: Onegin, a good pal of mine, was born upon the Neva's banks, where maybe you were born, 12 or used to shine, my reader! There formerly I too promenaded — but harmful is the North to me. 1 III Having served excellently, nobly, his father lived by means of debts; gave three balls yearly 4 and squandered everything at last. Fate guarded...

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Часть текста: piece of silk, but a live worm, a rotting plum, or some other equally strange bit of inexplicable detritus. Thank you, Madam, you may return to your seat. That Nabokov did not die of natural causes is only now beginning to be publicly acknowledged. His "mysterious" death, variously attributed to a fall, a viral infection, pneumonia, or mundane cardiac arrest, is now known to have been caused, or at least hastened along, by a special, nearly untraceable poison whose unpronounceable name I will not reveal here for fear that some unbalanced individual bearing a grudge against a family member, former love, noisy neighbor, or Department Head 1 might seek it out. The substance is readily available. It is odorless, flavorless, and difficult to detect unless a thorough autopsy is performed by an experienced medical examiner soon after the victim's death. Nabokov, who had been in and out of hospitals for the two years preceding his passing, was known to be in ill health. No foul play was suspected and so no autopsy was performed. The body, I learned too late to spare me the fruitless nocturnal foray recounted in my Chapter One, was cremated only days after its owner had, so to speak, vacated the premises. Alas, no forensic evidence of the crime remains. But the path of infamy that leads, like an infernal connect-the-dots, across the maps of Germany, France, and America, thence back to a hillside high above Gstaad and to a palatial hotel in Montreux,...

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Часть текста: upon the globe when, after a winter of ennui and pneumonia in Portugal, 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 Johnsonwho was soon flown...

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Часть текста: des choses. Necker VII The less we love a woman the easier 'tis to be liked by her, and thus more surely we undo her 4 among bewitching toils. Time was when cool 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 ...

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Часть текста: книге о Г.), и мое отношение к ним совершенно не меняется. Помню, что перечитывал "Вечера" в 1932-м или в 1933 году, когда писал статью о Гоголе по-русски - до сих пор пользуюсь ею на занятиях по русской литературе. В курсе европейской словесности я прочел лекции об "Анне Карениной" и о "Смерти Джона, сына Илии" [ "Смерть Ивана Ильича" - А. Л. ] (шутка) и собираюсь теперь провести изящное сравнение между "Джекилом и Хайдом" и "Превращением", в котором пальму первенства отдам "Превращению". Далее последуют: Чехов, Пруст и - частично - Джойс. Монкрифовский перевод Пруста ужасен, почти так же ужасен, как перевод "Анны" и "Эммы" [ "Анны Карениной" и "Госпожи Бовари". - А. Л. ], но в чем-то еще безотраднее, ибо здесь мистер Монкриф бравирует son petit style à lui.[184] Ты получил два экземпляра "Убедительного доказательства", одно из них с dédicace? Когда будет возможность, перешли мне, пожалуйста, уэллфлитский экземпляр обратно. А мое скверное письмо о твоем скверном русском стихотворении{231} тоже получил? Ты будешь в Нью-Йорке в конце мая? Мы с Верой будем там в это время по...

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Часть текста: 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 now commonplace: actors wander and mix; the audience is invited to participate; it is then applauded by the players in a curious reversal of roles made chic by Soviet performers ordered to emulate the mise-en-sce´ne of party congresses; and the term "happening" has already managed to grow obsolescent. He might have commented that the...

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Часть текста: 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...

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Часть текста: искрящемся снегом саду и то, как глухой старик, мой камердинер из русских, не сообразив, что самому не слыхать, вытягивает за кольца ящики комода в гардеробной, впихивает обратно. Эта Часть Пятая вовсе не эпилог: это самое настоящее вступление к моей на девяносто семь процентов правдивой, на три правдоподобной «Аде, или Эротиаде: Семейной хронике». Из множества домов, имевшихся у них в Европе и в Тропиках, недавно построенное в Эксе, в Швейцарских Альпах, шато с колонным фасадом, в башенках с бойницами, стало самым любимым, в особенности в середине зимы, когда здешний знаменитый воздух, le crystal d'Ex [544] , искрист «под стать высочайшим образцам человеческой мысли — чистой математике & расшифровке древних рун» (из неопубл. рекламы). Не реже двух раз в году наша счастливая чета пускалась в довольно длительные путешествия. Больше Ада не выпестовывала и не коллекционировала бабочек, но в пору здоровой своей и активной старости обожала снимать их на пленку в их естественной среде, в глубинах ее сада или на краю света, порхающих порознь и парочками, садящихся на цветы и нечистоты, скользящих по стеклу или стене, схлестывающихся и совокупляющихся. Ван сопровождал ее в этих съемочных турне по Бразилии, Конго, Новой Гвинее, хотя втайне предпочитал добрый стакан горячительного долгим выжиданиям под деревом, пока тот или иной раритет не соблазнится присесть, чтобы запечатлиться на цветной пленке. Чтоб описать приключения Ады в Стране Адесс, потребуется отдельная книга. С фильмами — как и распластанными героинями (на удостоверяющих их личность стендах) — можно ознакомиться по договоренности в музее...

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Часть текста: с колоннами по фронтону и крепостными башенками, стало любимым их обиталищем, особенно в самом разливе зимы, когда знаменитый сверкающий воздух, le cristal d'Ex, “как бы становится вровень с высшими проявлениями человеческой мысли – чистой математикой и разгадыванием шифров” (из неопубликованного рекламного объявления). По меньшей мере два раза в год наша счастливая чета отправлялась в сказочно долгие путешествия. Ада больше не вскармливала и не собирала бабочек, но во всю свою здоровую, прекрасную старость увлеченно снимала на пленку их жизнь в естественной среде – на нижней оконечности своего парка или на самом конце света, – как они плывут и вспархивают, опускаются на гроздья цветов или в грязь, скользят поверх травы или гранита, сражаются или спрягаются. Ван сопровождал ее во время съемок в Бразилии, Конго, Новой Гвинее, но втайне предпочитал сидение с долгим стаканом под тентом долгому бдению под деревом в ожидании, покуда некая редкость не опустится на приманку и не позволит заснять себя в цвете. Потребовалась бы еще одна книга, чтобы описать Адины приключения в Адаландии. Фильмы (и выставленных для опознания распятых актеров) можно по предварительной договоренности увидеть в музее “Люсинда” – Манхаттан, Парк-лэйн, дом 5. 2 Он оправдал родовой девиз: “Здоровее, чем Вин, только Винов сын”. В...

Поиск по творчеству и критикеCлово "LOVING"

Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "LOVING"