Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "PREY"
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Входимость: 2. Размер: 53кб.
Часть текста: 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: 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 that can be casually plucked between business and bath as they used to be in the days of the Romans; and we do not, as dignified...
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Часть текста: части королевского тела, превращая его в фигурную карту. Портреты предков темнели на стенах просторной, обшитой деревянными панелями комнаты. Впрочем, комната напоминала директорский кабинет в школе Святого Варфа на Атлантическом побережье в трех тысячах миль западней воображаемого дворца. Весенний проливной дождь без устали хлестал по французским окнам, за которыми юная зелень, таращась во все глаза, и струилась и трепетала. И казалось, ничто, кроме этой завесы дождя, не отделяет и не защищает дворец от революции, что уже семь дней бушевала в городе... Собственно, отцом Виктора был придурочный беженец-врач, которого мальчик никогда не любил и уже года два как не видел. Король, с большей вероятностью бывший его отцом, принял решение не отрекаться от престола. Газеты не выходили. Восточный экспресс со всеми его случайными пассажирами застрял у платформы какой-то пригородной станции, на которой, отражаясь в лужах, стояли живописные крестьяне и глазели на занавешенные окна длинных, таинственных вагонов. Сам дворец и его сады, террасами спускавшиеся с холма, и город под дворцовым холмом, и главная городская площадь, где, несмотря на дурную погоду, уже начались казни и народные танцы, - все это находилось в сердцевине креста, чьи оконечности доходили до Триеста, Граца, Будапешта и Загреба, как в этом можно было убедиться,...
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Часть текста: lawn at an angle from the sidewalk (where a tartan laprobe had dropped in a heap), and stood there, shining in the sun, its doors open like wings, its front wheels deep in evergreen shrubbery. To the anatomical right of this car, on the trim turn of the lawn-slope, an old gentleman with a white mustache, well-dresseddouble-breasted gray suit, polka-dotted bow-tielay supine, his long legs together, like a death-size wax figure. I have to put the impact of an instantaneous vision into a sequence of words; their physical accumulation in the page impairs the actual flash, the sharp unity of impression: Rug-heap, car, old 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...
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Часть текста: 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, ...
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Часть текста: остались на прежней стадии. Второй день путешествия (4 июля) я провел целиком с нею, кроме пары часов перед ужином. Мы загорали на солнце. Она наслаждалась веющим ветерком и волшебной водой бассейна. Она изо всех сил старалась казаться беззаботной, но я видел, что все совсем не так. Романтическая привязанность, возникшая у нее, безрассудная страсть, взлелеянная ею, оказались сильней логических доводов. В довершение дополнил картину некто, с кем тягаться она была не в силах. Роберт и Рейчел Робинсоны, которые, как мне известно, собирались писать тебе через моего отца, были предпоследним ее общением в ту ночь. Последним был бармен. Встревоженный ее видом, он отправился следом за ней и, выйдя на палубу, стал свидетелем происшедшего, которое предотвратить не успел. По-моему, неизбежно после такой утраты начинаешь ценить всякую подробность непосредственно накануне события, всякую лопнувшую нить, всякую обтрепанную оборку. Я просмотрел с нею в кинозале большую часть фильма «Замки Испании» (или что-то типа того), и, когда злодею распутнику был указан путь в последний из замков, я решил покинуть зал, оставив ее на попечение Робинсонов, которые подсели к нам во время сеанса. Я отправился спать и был разбужен около часа ночи Мор. Времени, тотчас после того, как она кинулась за борт. В пределах возможностей были...
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Часть текста: plastic floor or a movie matinee to which she wanted to go alone), I happened to glimpse from the bathroom, through a chance combination of mirror aslant and door ajar, a look on her face… that look I cannot exactly describe… an expression of helplessness so perfect that it seemed to grade into one of rather comfortable inanity just because this was the very limit of injustice and frustrationand every limit presupposes something beyond ithence the neutral illumination. And when you bear in mind that these were the raised eyebrows and parted lips of a child, you may better appreciate what depths of calculated carnality, what reflected despair, restrained me from falling at her dear feet and dissolving in human tears, and sacrificing my jealousy to whatever pleasure Lolita might hope to derive from mixing with dirty and dangerous children in an outside world that was real to her. And I have still other smothered memories, now unfolding themselves into limbless monsters of pain. Once, in a sunset-ending street of Beardsley, she turned to little Eva Rosen (I was taking both nymphets to a concert and walking behind them so close as almost to touch them with my person), she turned to Eva, and so very serenely and seriously, in answer to something the other had said about its being better to die than hear Milton Pinski, some local schoolboy she knew, talk about music, my Lolita remarked: “You know, what’s so dreadful about dying is that you are completely on your own”; and it struck me, as my automaton knees went up and down, that I simply did not know a thing about my darling’s mind and that quite possibly, behind the awful juvenile clichs, there was in her a garden and a twilight, and a palace gatedim and adorable regions which happened to be lucidly and absolutely forbidden to me, in my polluted rags and miserable convulsions; for I...