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

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Часть текста: вела мощеная дорога, проходившая возле границы со штатом Айдахо. У Набоковых был отдельный домик с ванной. Домики, расставленные вокруг центральной площадки, точно крытые конные фургоны первых поселенцев 2 , представляли собой тесаные срубы с угловыми шиповыми соединениями типа “ласточкин хвост” (при котором конец каждого бревна выходит за стык стен). С бревен сдирали кору и покрывали лаком, щели заделывали известковым раствором и обшивали вагонкой. Corral Log Motel, Афтон, штат Вайоминг. Фото автора. В горах неподалеку от Афтона берут начало несколько ручьев и текут на запад. Набоков шел вверх по течению ручья и ловил бабочек в прибрежных кустах. “В начале августа, - писал он в статье, - лужи на тропинках в лесном заповеднике Бриджер облепляют миллионы N. californica Boisd., садятся стайками по четыре и более сотни и пьют воду, а по каньону ровным потоком носится бесчисленное количество бабочек” . В ту пору Набоков уже три года работал над “Лолитой”. В основном это были приготовления, то, что он сам называл “пальпировать в уме” 4 , разнообразные заметки. Во время весеннего семестра в Гарварде в 1952 году он, вероятно, принялся за черновик 5 , но летом практически ничего не писал . Летом Набоков обычно чувствовал себя хорошо и наслаждался жизнью. Вообще же годы, отданные работе над книгой, отрицательно сказались на его здоровье: печальная эпопея с зубами, межреберная невралгия, которая снова начала его мучить в 1950 году. Набоков рассказывал Уилсону: Почти две недели я пролежал в больнице. Вою и корчусь в муках с конца марта, когда грипп, который я подцепил на довольно скандальной, хотя и организованной из самых лучших побуждений вечеринке [журнала New Yorker], вызвал чудовищную межреберную невралгию, вследствие чего, страдая от непереносимой, непрекращающейся боли и столь же непереносимого...

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Часть текста: to Colorado was entomologically uneventful. When reached at last, Telluride turned out to be a damp, unfrequented, but very spectacular cul-de-sac (which a prodigious rainbow straddied every evening) at the end of two converging roads, one from Placerville, the other from Dolores, both atrocious. There is one motel, the optimistic and excellent Valley View Court where my wife and I stayed, at 9,000 feet altitude, from the 3rd to the 29th of July, walking up daily to at least 12,000 feet along various more or less steep trails in search of sublivens. Once or twice Mr. Homer Reid of Telluride took us up in his jeep. Every morning the sky would be of an impeccable blue at 6 a. m. when I set out. The first innocent cloudlet would scud across at 7: 30 a. m. Bigger fellows with darker bellies would start tampering with the sun around 9 a. m., just as we emerged from the shadow of the cliffs and trees onto good hunting grounds. Everything would be cold and gloomy half an hour later. At around 10 a. m. there would come the daily electric storm, in several installments, accompanied by the most irritatingly close lightning I have ever encountered anywhere in the Rockies, not excepting Longs Peak, which is saying a good deal, and followed by cloudy and rainy weather through the rest of the day. After 10 days of this, and despite diligent subsequent exploration, only one sparse colony of sublivens was found. On that one spot my wife found a freshly emerged male on the 15th. Three days later I had the pleasure of discovering the unusual-looking female. Between the 15th and the 28th, a dozen hours of windy but passable collecting weather in all (not counting the hours and hours uselessly spent in mist...

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Часть текста: raising her foot, fumbling at the shoelaces and showing as she did so the nether side of her thigh up to the crotch of her pantiesshe had always been singularly absentminded, or shameless, or both, in matters of legshow. This, then, was the hermetic vision of her which I had locked inafter satisfying myself that the door carried no inside bolt. The key, with its numbered dangler of carved wood, became forthwith the weighty sesame to a rapturous and formidable future. It was mine, it was part of my hot hairy fist. In a few minutessay, twenty, say half-an-hour, sicher its sicher as my uncle Gustave used to sayI would let myself into that “342” and find my nymphet, my beauty and bride, imprisoned in her crystal sleep. Jurors! If my happiness could have talked, it would have filled that genteel hotel with a deafening roar. And my only regret today is that I did not quietly deposit key “342” at the office, and leave the town, the country, the continent, the hemisphere,indeed, the globethat very same night. Let me explain. I was not unduly disturbed by her self-accusatory innuendoes. I was still firmly resolved to pursue my policy of sparing her purity by operating only in the stealth of night, only upon a completely anesthetized little nude. Restraint and reverence were still my motto-even if that “purity” (incidentally, thoroughly debunked by modern science) had been slightly damaged through some juvenile erotic experience, no doubt homosexual, at that accursed camp of hers. Of course, in my old-fashioned, old-world way, I, Jean-Jacques Humbert, had taken for granted, when I first met her, that she was as unravished as the stereotypical notion of “normal child” had been since the lamented end of the Ancient World B. C. and its fascinating practices. We are not surrounded in our enlighted era by little slave flowers...

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Часть текста: вокруг которого стали мелькать ржавые мечи и щиты 30-летней давности. Обидевшись, я перечитал “Лолиту” — и обнаружил в ней поразительный арсенал средств для артикуляции моего смутного недоверия к афере Дютру. Пиши Набоков “Лолиту” сегодня, Долорес Гейз и ее товарки по семейству нимфеток не только бегали бы по парку или играли в теннис, но, несомненно, катались бы на скейт-бордах, на этих уютных челноках- челенджерах, на этих маленьких челенджах-пощечинах скоростным вкусам большого города, на этих лодках одиночества, этих крошечных мустангах, колыбельках трения, на этих мини-локомотивах, на которых одновременно стоишь и мчишься прямиком на Дикий Запад. Папа-Гумочка заботливо кричал бы, перемешивая, как всегда, свой переведенный на русский английский с оставленным непереведенным, как бы неконвертируемым, французским, этим знаком Старого Света и старорежимного стыдливого либертинажа: “Лола! Ты забыла proteges-tibias^! Protege-тебя!” Чтобы сойти за правдоподобного папу 90-х годов, Гумберт должен был бы защищать- оберегать свою дочку-наложницу не только от прыщавых одноклассников, но и от неловкого падения со скейт-борда (этого чемпиона детского травматизма), наркотиков, спида, повседневной делинквентности, феминистского террора и, конечно, от рыщущих вокруг педофилов. Лола и Гума 90-х годов были бы погружены в атмосферу тотальной протективности- презервативности. Как уберечь всех от вся? Людей — от катастроф, третий мир — от голода, Ирак — от Америки, окружающую среду — от окруженного ею человека, гомиков — от реакционных нормалов, их всех — от спида, клиента — от засилья предпринимателя, клиента адвоката — с помощью другого адвоката от засилья адвокатуры, т. е. от закона, потребителя — от медиа (в “Лолите” образца 1955 г. Гумберт...

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Часть текста: the Humbert Humbert-Lolita relationship that is strong; it is Humbert's sense. He cares, I do not. I do not give a damn for public morals, in America or elsewhere. And, anyway, cases of men in their forties marrying girls in their teens or early twenties have no bearing on Lolita whatever. Humbert was fond of "little girls"-- not simply "young girls." Nymphets are girl-children, not starlets and "sex kittens." Lolita was twelve, not eighteen, when Humbert met her. You may remember that by the time she is fourteen, he refers to her as his "aging mistress." One critic has said about you that "his feelings are like no one else's. " Does this make sense to you? Or does it mean that you know your feelings better than others know theirs? Or that you have discovered yourself at other levels? Or simply that your history is unique? I do not recall that article; but if a critic makes such a statement, it must surely mean that he has explored the feelings of literally millions of people, in at least three countries, before reaching his conclusion. If so, lama rare fowl indeed. If, on the other hand, he has merely limited himself to quizzing members of his family or club, his statement cannot be discussed seriously. Another critic has...

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Часть текста: butterflies west of the Russian frontier now produced by-Lionel C. Higgins, author of important papers on Lep-idoptera, and Norman D. Riley, keeper of insects at the British Museum. The exclusion of Russia is (alas) a practical necessity. Non-utilitarian science does not thrive in that sad and cagey country; the mild foreign gentleman eager to collect in the steppes will soon catch his net in a tangle of barbed wire, and to work out the distribution of Evers-mann's Orange Tip or the Edda Ringlet would have proved much harder than mapping the moon. The little maps that the Field Guide does supply for the fauna it covers seem seldom to err. I note that the range of the Twin-spot Fritillary and that of the Idas Blue are incorrectly marked, and I think Nogell's Hairstreak, which reaches Romania from the east, should have been included. Among minor shortcomings is the somewhat curt way in which British butterflies are treated (surely the Norfolk race of the Swallowtail, which is so different from the Swedish, should have received more attention). I would say that alder, rather than spruce, characterizes the habitat of Wolfens-berger's and Thor's Fritillaries. I regret that the dreadful nickname "Admiral" is used instead of the old "Admirable." The new vernacular names are well invented-- and, paradoxically, will be more attractive to the expert wishing to avoid taxonomic controversy when indicating a species than to the youngster who...

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Часть текста: в маленьком кинотеатре, специализировавшемся на Ярких Вестернах (как прежде именовались эти барханы псевдоискусства). Вот во что выродились «Скверные дети» (1887) мадемуазель Ларивьер. У нее было — замок во Франции, двое подростков-близнецов подсыпают яду своей вдовствующей матушке, совратившей юного соседа, любовника сестрички. Автор сюжета многократно шла на уступки свободным нравам эпохи, а также пошлым фантазиям сценаристов; но, как и исполнительница главной роли, она полностью отреклась от того, что получилось в итоге многочисленных вторжений в сценарий и вылилось под конец в историю некого убийства в Аризоне, жертвой которого стал вдовец, собравшийся жениться на проститутке-алкоголичке, которую Марина, не без оснований, воплощать отказалась. Однако бедная Адочка схватилась за предложенную рольку, двухминутный эпизод в трактире (roadside tavern). Во время репетиций ей казалось, что она неплохо справляется с образом соблазнительной официантки — пока режиссер не заявил, что она нескладна, как «заторможенная вобла». Ада не решалась смотреть на конечный продукт и не горела желанием показывать его Вану, однако он напомнил, что тот же самый режиссер, Г. А. Вронский, некогда утверждал, что с ее внешностью Ада запросто сможет когда-нибудь стать дублершей...

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Часть текста: 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," ...

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Часть текста: 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? The fascination was purely utilitarian. My wife used to drive me (Plymouth, Oldsmobile, Buick, Buick Special, Impala-- in that order of brand) during several seasons, many thousands of miles every season, for the sole purpose of collecting Lepidoptera-- all of which are now in three museums (Natural History in New York City, Comparative Zoology at Harvard, Comstock Hall at Cornell). Usually we spent only a day or two in each motorcourt, but sometimes, if the hunting ...

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Часть текста: plays, a survey of Soviet theatre, and an analysis of commentary on drama by several American critics. The two lectures presented here have been selected to accompany Nabokov's plays because they embody, in concentrated form, many 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 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 quest for originality for its own sake has led to ludicrous excesses and things have taken their helter-skelter course in random theatre as they have in...

Поиск по творчеству и критикеCлово "ODD"

Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "ODD"