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Часть текста: свет. Подлинная жизнь Владимира Набокова Chapter Three. Mashen'ka Chapter Three Mashen'ka For three years the mental image of those cahiers laid edge to edge on Berthoud's desk blotter burned in my brain like a neon eidolon. Here was V. Sirin's first book of prose, in fair copy, before me. Curiously enough, one cannot read a book, one can only reread it, as the Master once wrote. And this I did, many times, savoring the turns of phrase and the shades of words, staunch in my belief that a careful rereader, forearmed with a knowledge of what is to come, is more apt to catch the glimpses of future greatness that the prose of a first novel allows. After having considered and discarded one by one a series of clever but clumsy titles for this chapter I settled on the pedestrian choice above. Engaging in verbal legerdemain while speaking of Nabokov is a perilous and perhaps foolhardy undertaking, given his own multilingual mastery over words--one might compare it to beginning a talk on Nijinsky by stepping from behind the lectern to attempt a jeté or two. While much, indeed too much, has been written about Nabokov's English novels, much less has been said about his earliest Russian fiction. It is to this I must now turn. My editor has chided me for diverging too frequently and too widely from my subject--but what is a life if not a series of diversions from some hidden, ineffable theme? Mashen'ka opens with the tongue-twisting name and patronymic of the protagonist Ganin, Lev Glebovich, which, complains the character Alferov, "iazyk vyzvikhnut' mozhno" (7). Instantly we are made aware of the potential treachery of words. With Alferov's statement a few paragraphs later that "vsiakoe imia obiazyvaet," we are also reminded of their power. The first stylistic glimmer of the mature Nabokov, which comes after the brief dialogue between Ganin and...

2. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. Wisconsin Studies, 1967 г.

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Часть текста: Mr. Nabokov and his wife have for the last six years lived in an opulent hotel built in 1835, which still retains its nineteenth-century atmosphere. Their suite of rooms is on the sixth floor, overlooking Lake Geneva, and the sounds of the lake are audible through the open doors of their small balcony. Since Mr. Nabokov does not like to talk off the cuff (or "Off the Nabocuff," as he said) no tape recorder was used. Mr. Nabokov ei! ther wrote out his answers to the questions or dictated them to the interviewer; in some instances, notes from the conversation were later recast as formal questions-and-answers. The interviewer was Nabokov's student at Cornell University in 1954, and the references are to Literature 311-312 (MWF, 12), a course on the Masterpieces of European Fiction (Jane Austen, Gogol, Dickens, Flaubert, Tolstoy, Stevenson, Kafka, Joyce, and Proust). Its enrollment had reached four hundred by the time of Nabokov's resignation in 1959. The footnotes to the interview, except where indicated, are provided by the interviewer, Alfred Appel, Jr. For years bibliographers and literary journalists didn't know whether to group you under "Russian" or "American. "Now that you're living in Switzerland there seems to be complete agreement that you're American. Do you find this kind of distinction at all important regarding your identity as a writer? I have always...

3. Чарльз Кинбот: Серебристый свет. Подлинная жизнь Владимира Набокова. Chapter Seven. King, Queen, Knave

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Часть текста: in the interest of the maintenance of my own mental equilibrium, partly in response to what an impartial observer would certainly characterize as the overly vociferous behest of my good, but sometimes impatient, editor, who enjoined me, in a fax sent to the seedy but comfortable hotel in Villefranche-sur-Mer where I was recovering from recent scholarly labors, to "get on with it." (Incidentally, the sea softly plashing against the sandy edge of this charming townlet is, at noon, a deep azure hue, recalling a certain lake in my homeland, a distant northern land. And at night, I have noticed on my insomniac rambles, the moon casts slivers of silvery light upon the ink-black waters. Do remind me to say more of this later.) The original contract for this book (signed three years ago with a then noticeably more solicitous publisher whose name I am legally bound not to mention) stipulated that the text be comprised not only of biography proper (of which the reader has already enjoyed, I trust, a taste) but also of criticism of each of Nabokov's books. In lieu of any sensible reason not to proceed in any but a chronological, or pseudo-chronological, fashion, I turn now to Korol', dama, valet , 2 a novel quite different from Mashen'ka , strangely lacking in luster, which a 28-year-old Sirin began in July of 1927 and a 29-year-old Sirin completed in June of the following year, not very far from here, I'm told. The plot, though banal, perhaps bears repeating. A brooding, not unattractive boy named Frants arrives in a large...

4. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. Playboy, 1964 г.

Входимость: 3. Размер: 53кб.

Часть текста: for more than 30 years-- to both acclaim and abuse as the world-renowned author of a sensational bestseller. In the aftermath of this cause celebre, do you ever regret having written Lolita? On the contrary, I shudder retrospectively when I recall that there was a moment, in 1950, and again in 1951, when I was on the point of burning Humbert Humbert's little black diary. No, I shall never regret Lolita. She was like the composition of a beautiful puzzle-- its composition and its solution at the same time, since one is a mirror view of the other, depending on the way you look. Of course she completely eclipsed my other works-- at least those I wrote in English: The Real Life of Sebastian Knight, Bend Sinister, my short stories, my book of recollections; but I cannot grudge her this. There is a queer, tender charm about that mythical nymphet. Though many readers and reviewers would disagree that her charm is tender, few would deny that it is queer-- so much so that when director Stanley Kubrick proposed his plan to make a movie of Lolita, you were quoted as saying, "Of course they'll have to change the plot. Perhaps they will make Lolita a dwarfess. Or they will make her 16 and Humbert 26. " Though you finally wrote the screenplay yourself, several reviewers took the film to task for watering down the central relationship. Were you satisfied with the final...

5. Шраер Д. Максим: Спасение еврейско-русского мальчика - рассказы Набокова в ожидании катастрофы

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6. Долинин Александр: Комментарий к роману Владимира Набокова «Дар». Литература

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Часть текста: «Дар» Литература Литература Абызов, Исмагулова 1999 – Абызов Ю. И., Исмагулова Т. Д. Пильский Петр Моисеевич // Русские писатели, 1800–1917: Биографический словарь. М., 1999. Т. 4. С. 600–604. Аверкиев 1907 – Аверкиев Д. В. О драме. Критическое рассуждение. 2-е изд. СПб., 1907. Агада 1923 – Агада: Сказания, притчи, изречения Талмуда и Мидрашей. Берлин, 1923. Т. II. Адамович 1930a – Адамович Г. Комментарии // Числа. 1930. Кн. 1. С. 136–143. Адамович 1930b – Адамович Г. Комментарии: продолжение // Числа. 1930. Кн. 2–3. С. 167–176. Адамович 1933 – Адамович Г. Человеческий документ // Последние новости. 1933. № 4369. 9 марта. Адамович 1934a – Адамович Г. Сирин // Последние новости. 1934. № 4670. 4 января. Адамович 1934b – Адамович Г. «Современные записки», кн. 55-я. Часть литературная // Последние новости. 1934. № 4809. 24 мая. Адамович 1934c – Адамович Г. Святые мечты // Последние новости. 1934. № 4907. 30 августа. Адамович 1935 – Адамович Г. Несостоявшаяся прогулка // Современные записки. 1935. Кн. LXIX. С. 288–296. Адамович 1936 – Адамович Г. Сумерки Достоевского // Последние новости. 1936. № 5655. 17 сентября. Адамович 1938 – Адамович Г. «Современные записки», кн. 67. Часть литературная // Последние новости. 1938. № 6437. 10 ноября. Адамович 1996 – Адамович Г. Одиночество и свобода. М., 1996. Адамович 1998 – Адамович Г. Собрание сочинений. Литературные беседы: В 2 кн. / Вступ. ст., сост. и примеч. О. А. Коростелева. СПб., 1998. Адамович 1999 – Адамович Г. Собрание сочинений: Стихи, проза, переводы / Вступ. ст., сост. и примеч. О. А. Коростылева. СПб., 1999. Адамович 2000 – Адамович Г. Собрание сочинений: Комментарии / Сост., послесл. и примеч. О. А. Коростелева. СПб., 2000. Адамович 2010 – «Я с Вами привык к переписке...

7. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. BBC-2, 1969 г.

Входимость: 2. Размер: 22кб.

Часть текста: You have said that you explored time's prison and have found no way out. Are you still exploring, and is it inevitably a solitary excursion, from which one returns to the solace of others? I'm a very poor speaker. I hope our audience won't mind my using notes. My exploration of time's prison as described in the first chapter of Speak, Memory was only a stylistic device meant to introduce my subject. Memory often presents a life broken into episodes, more or less perfectly recalled. Do you see any themes working through from one episode to another? Everyone can sort out convenient patterns of related themes in the past development of his life. Here again I had to provide pegs and echoes when furnishing my reception halls. Is the strongest tie between men this common captivity in time? Let us not generalize. The common captivity in time is felt differently by different people, and some people may not feel it at all. Generalizations are full of loopholes and traps. I know elderly men for whom "time" only means "timepiece." What distinguishes us from animals? Being aware of being aware of being. In other words, if I not only know that I am but also know that I know it, then I belong to the human species. All the rest follows-- the glory of thought, poetry, a vision of the universe. In that respect, the gap between ape and man is immeasurably greater than the one between amoeba and ape. The difference between an ape's memory and human memory is the difference between an ampersand and the British Museum library. Judging from your own awakening consciousness as a child, do you think that the capacity to use language, syntax, relate...

8. Чарльз Кинбот: Серебристый свет. Подлинная жизнь Владимира Набокова. Chapter Nine. Zashchita Luzhina

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Часть текста: the Pyren?es Orientales and published serially, first in Rul' (one chapter), then in Sovremennye zapiski , nos. 40-42, and finally in book form later that same year by Slovo in Berlin. An English version, translated by the author in collaboration with Michael Scammell, was published in 1964 by Putnam as The Defenestration . This edition is true to the original with the exception of two references to Zembla that the author, or the translator, or an unnamed editor, or an inattentive typesetter, chose to remove, or happened to remove inadvertantly, from Chapters Two and Five. Zashchita Luzhina is a book about chess, "a game of skill played by two persons, each having sixteen pieces to move in different ways, on a board divided into 64 squares, alternately light and dark." (I owe this pithy definition to Webster.) If the reader does not know, or has forgotten, the rules to the game, he or she is invited to consult one of the many pamphlets devoted to chess that must surely exist in every language written and read in the civilized world. The word chess derives from Middle English ches or chesse , thence from Old French eschec (francophones will hear here an echo of the French word for failure, a not irrelevant observation for the case under discussion), or echac ,2 thence from Persian shah , a king, the most important piece in the game. Luzhin, the eponymous hero, is our king: He remembered especially the...

9. Чарльз Кинбот: Серебристый свет. Подлинная жизнь Владимира Набокова. Chapter Eight. Dying Is No Fun

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Часть текста: Набокова Chapter Eight. Dying Is No Fun Chapter Eight Dying Is No Fun In hindsight the Master's relatively eventful life reads like a novel written by an author so swept away by creative enthusiasm that he keeps forgetting to reread what he has already written but so attuned to a particular frequency of inspiration that revision and successive drafts are superfluous: the tale can be extruded in a single, extremely long, growing ever longer, parti-colored stream, like the endless rope of silk handkerchiefs a conjuror extracts with mock amazement from his black satin sleeve, or, for that matter, from the mouth of a compliant, if somewhat sheepish, volunteer. But Nabokov's death still comes as an unpleasant shock, an absurdly anomalous element at the end of the series, as if the final section of the streamer were not one last, particularly colorful 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 ...

10. Интервью Набокова на английском языке. Anonymous, 1972 г.

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Часть текста: that simple and elegant point? You certainly may. Allow me to quote a passage from my first page which baffled the wise and misled the silly: "When we concentrate on a material object. . . the very act of attention may lead to our involuntarily sinking into the history of that object." A number of such instances of falling through the present's "tension film" are given in the course of the book. There is the personal history of a pencil. There is also, in a later chapter, the past of a shabby room, where, instead of focusing on Person and the prostitute, the spectral observer drifts down into the middle of the previous century and sees a Russian traveler, a minor Dostoevski, occupying that room, between Swiss gambling house and Italy. Another critic has said- Yes, I am coming to that. Reviewers of my little book made the lighthearted mistake of assuming that seeing through things is the professional function of a novelist. Actually, that kind of generalization is not only a dismal commonplace but is specifically untrue. Unlike the mysterious observer or observers in Transparent Things, a novelist is, like all mortals, more fully at home on the surface of the present than in the ooze of the past. So who is that observer; who are those italicized "we" in the fourteenth line of the novel; who, for goodness' sake, is the "I" in its very first line? The solution, my friend, is so simple that one is almost embarrassed to furnish it. But here goes. An incidental but...

Поиск по творчеству и критикеCлово "THEME"

Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "THEME"