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

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Часть текста: менее видных, носят частный, а не общий характер. Русская просодия, родившаяся лишь двести лет тому назад, в общем, довольно хорошо изучена русскими исследователями, ими были созданы небезынтересные работы на материале «Евгения Онегина». Английское же стихотворное наследие, колоссальное по объему и известное своей многовековой традицией, не получило еще должного описания. Специально я этим вопросом не интересовался, но, насколько помню, мне не встречалось ни одной работы, в которой английский ямб — и, в частности, четырехстопный — был бы систематизирован и описан на основе сравнительного литературоведения, чтобы хоть как-то удовлетворить лиц, занимающихся изучением просодии. Если мне и случалось читать об английской просодии, то я тотчас же откладывал в сторону эти работы, стоило мне встретить в них нагромождения музыкальных нот или нелепые примеры организации строф, не имеющие ничего общего со структурой стиха. Другие работы с путаными рассуждениями о «долготе» и «краткости», «количестве» и «эквивалентности» не только изобилуют обычными нелепостями или субъективными заблуждениями, но и не дают сколь-либо систематического представления о модуляциях ямба,...

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Часть текста: 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 All this today is obsolete, I really don't know why; and anyway it was a matter 12 of very little moment to my friend, since he yawned equally amidst modish and olden halls.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 of fruit liqueurs, pitchers of eau-de-pomme, 12 and the calendar for eighteen-eight: having a lot to do, the old man never looked into any other books. IV Alone midst his possessions, merely to while away the time, at first conceived the plan our Eugene 4 of instituting a new system. In his backwoods a solitary sage, the ancient corvée 's yoke by the light quitrent he replaced; 8 the muzhik blessed fate, while in his corner went into a huff, therein perceiving dreadful harm, his thrifty neighbor. 12 Another slyly smiled, and all concluded with one voice that he was a most dangerous eccentric. V At first they all would call on him, but since to the back porch habitually a Don stallion 4 for him was brought as soon as one made out along the highway the sound of their domestic runabouts — outraged by such...

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Часть текста: the eve (whatever she had set her funny little heart ona roller rink with some special 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...

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Часть текста: Владимир Набоков и Руперт Брук Владимир Набоков и Руперт Брук Набоков провел в Англии почти три года. Его семья прибыла в Лондон в конце мая 1919 года. Родители и трое младших детей переселились в Берлин летом следующего года, а Владимир и Сергей остались в Кембридже и окончили университет в 1922 году. Набоков впервые рассказывает о годах, проведенных в Кембридже, в главе автобиографии «Квартирка в Тринити-Лейн». Все три версии мемуаров Набокова и оба его биографа описывают молодого человека, занятого воссозданием потерянной России и относительно равнодушного к английскому окружению. [1] Большинство его друзей в Кембридже были русскими эмигрантами. Молодой Набоков считал себя русским поэтом, и поэзии суждено было стать его основным занятием во время пребывания в Кембридже. Уже являясь автором двух сборников, опубликованных в России, [2] он написал много новых стихотворений во время 16-месячного изгнания в Крыму. Ностальгическое воссоздание «своей» России является самой распространенной темой его стихотворений 1918–1922 годов. Набокова настолько поглотило творчество, что для Англии и Кембриджа оставалось мало эмоциональной энергии. Первый биограф Набокова, Эндрю Филд, приводит его слова, в которых он описывает свои годы в Кембридже как «длинную череду неловкостей, ошибок и всякого рода неудач и глупостей, включая романтические». [3] В «Память, говори» автор даже настаивает на том, что кембриджские годы оставили в его душе «отпечаток столь незначительный, что продолжать его описание было бы просто скучно». [4] Понимая все величие истории Кембриджа, молодой поэт «был...

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Часть текста: nature kept waiting and waiting for winter. 4 Snow only fell in January, on the night of the second. Waking early, Tatiana from the window saw at morn the whitened yard, 8 flower beds, roofs, and fence; delicate patterns on the panes; the trees in winter silver, gay magpies outside, 12 and the hills softly overspread with winter's brilliant carpeting. All's bright, all's white around. II Winter! The peasant, celebrating, in a flat sledge inaugurates the track; his naggy, having sensed the snow, 4 shambles at something like a trot. Plowing up fluffy furrows, a bold kibitka flies: the driver sits upon his box 8 in sheepskin coat, red-sashed. Here runs about a household lad, upon a hand sled having seated “blackie,” having transformed himself into the steed; 12 the scamp already has frozen a finger. He finds it both painful and funny — ...

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Часть текста: свет. Подлинная жизнь Владимира Набокова Chapter One. On Visiting Nabokov's Tomb It is customary to preface a work of this kind with "Acknowledgments," the scholarly version of lèche-culisme (or back-slapping, for those readers of delicate sensibilities or who have no French), in which the author, feigning humility, lists the names of the people and institutions he has had occasion to consult, implying, or, more often, stating explicitly, that although all these fine folks were instrumental in establishing the book's final form, none of them can be held responsible for any of the lapses or idiocies to be found therein; for these the author alone must answer. I have opted, against the protestations of my editor, to forego this tiresome ritual. Every word, every thought, every mark of punctuation in this work is my own, except where stated otherwise according to the dictates of careful scholarship. Certainly the comments (solicited or not) of many persons have guided me in perfecting my book, but only insofar as they served as signposts of exactly the type of tired tripe I wished to avoid. The most common of these was a chilly "You can't do that," as if my book were violating some immemorial cosmic law. For all their carping about institutional constraints on the freedom of their thought and work, my fellow academicians (and even many of you, self-styled "Nabokovians") have revealed themselves to be virulently censorial when confronted by the weird fruit of my research. Few things are more depressing to an intelligent person than the revelation that a whole league of supposedly enlightened literati is in fact a mob of petulant nitwits. Chapter One On Visiting Nabokov's Tomb "Biography is a form of...

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Часть текста: " How does this make you an American writer? An American writer means, in the present case, a writer who has been an American citizen for a quarter of a century. It means, moreover, that all my works appear first in America. It also means that America is the only country where I feel mentally and emotionally at home. Rightly or wrongly, I am not one of those perfectionists who by dint of hypercriticizing America find themselves wallowing in the same muddy camp with indigenous rascals and envious foreign observers. My admiration for this adopted country of mine can easily survive the jolts and flaws that: , indeed, are nothing in comparison to the abyss of evil in the history of Russia, not to speak of other, more exotic, countries. In the poem "To My Soul, "you wrote, possibly of yourself, as "a provincial naturalist, an eccentric lost in paradise. " This appears to link your interest in butterflies to other aspects of your life, writing, for instance. Do you...

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Часть текста: just a tiny bit of your precious time. So this was le grand moment. I had left my Lolita still sitting on the edge of the abysmal bed, drowsily 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...

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Часть текста: for my pains. To the wonderland I had to offer, my fool preferred the corniest movies, the most cloying 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 “subconscious” obsession of an incomplete childhood romance with the initial little Miss Lee. Well, comrade, let me tell you that I did look for a beach, though I also have to confess that by the time we reached its mirage of gray water, so many delights had already been granted me by my traveling companion that the search for a...

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Часть текста: форма слова «горло», аналогичная французскому — gosier), от которого, в свою очередь, происходит глагол «горланить» (или «харлить»), означающий «кричать изо всех сил» («à plein gosier» [635] ): And with Pamphilus Throttle's family Also arrived the Frenchman Trick, A wit, come recently from Tambov, With spectacles and red perwick как получилось у меня, когда предпринял я первую, порочную попытку (1950) перевести ЕО рифмованными стихами. 6 …куплет. — Не «couplet» (рифмованное двустишие, термин из практики английского стихосложения), а строфа в несколько строк, иногда с рефреном. Пушкин называл куплетами даже строфы ЕО. Здесь употребление французское (см. также коммент. к гл. 4, XXXV, 8). 8—13 Réveillez-vous, belle endormie… belle Nina… [636] — Забавно, что в некотором смысле Татьяна и есть эта спящая красавица, и она не вполне пробудилась от своего волшебного сна, предвестника этих гротескных гостей. Здесь имеется в виду одно из многих подражаний «Спящей красавице» («La Belle Dormeuse», ок. 1710 г.), приписываемое Шарлю...

Поиск по творчеству и критикеCлово "RISE"

Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "RISE"