“Oh swear to me to put in dreams your trust, and to believe in fantasy alone, and never let your soul in prison rust, nor stretch your arms and say: a wall of stone.“
--Vladimir Nabokov, “The Gift“
“Oh swear to me to put in dreams your trust, and to believe in fantasy alone, and never let your soul in prison rust, nor stretch your arms and say: a wall of stone.“
--Vladimir Nabokov, “The Gift“
“Quite often now he began the day with a poem.“ --Vladimir Nabokov, “The Gift“.
With what eyes shall I look at these snowflakes?
And black branches of trees?
from “The Gift“ by Vladimir Nabokov
This is slow, but good stuff. I‘m working through Nabokov‘s novels and this is easily the weighty-est one so far. There is a lot in here, like everything - poetry, Pushkin, Gogol, a complete biography of Chernyshevsky (!), literary commentary, critics, death, love, language, commentary on Nazi Germany - all here. It was also his last Russian language novel.
(And Texas apparently does peppers in December)
Another surprising touch of wisdom from VN:
...the unfortunate image of a “road” to which the human mind has become accustomed (life is a kind of journey) is a stupid allusion: we are not going anywhere, we are sitting at home. The other world surrounds us always and is not at all at the end of some pilgrimage. In our earthly house, windows are replaced by mirrors; the door, until a given time, is closed; but air comes through the cracks.
The opaque author on death:
Fear gives birth to sacred awe, sacred awe erects a sacrificial altar, its smoke ascends to the sky, there assumes the shape of wings, and bowing fear addresses a prayer to it. Religion has the same relationship to man‘s heavenly condition that mathematics has to his earthly one: both the one and the other are merely the rules of the game.
Nabokov on criticism:
“Jauntily using the author as a springboard, carried away by his own paraphrase, extracting isolated phrases in support of his incorrect conclusions, misunderstanding the initial pages and thereafter energetically pursuing a false trail, he would make his way to the penultimate chapter in the blissful state of a passenger who still does not know (and in his case never finds out) that he has boarded the wrong train.”
Still can‘t get up, care of 6 lb cat. This should be my last Thanksgiving post as I‘m finally caught up. I started this yesterday. I‘ve read 23 pages and they‘ve been crazy hard to read. Hmm. This was Nabokov‘s last Russian language novel and I think he put everything into it, including a lot of poetry.
Omg, @TheSpineView — what a gift! The giveaway box I received from you was so unexpectedly heavy that I thought it was the bidet attachment I ordered from Amazon (#coronavirus)! 😅 I love *everything* (the gift card, of course, & all of the bonus treasures). Can‘t wait to tear into that chocolate later. Or, okay... I‘ll be realistic. Probably sooner rather than later. 😉 Thanks again!
So lucky to have such a generous Secret Santa 😊😍 Thanks so much @DeborahSmall I can't wait to unwrap it all!!! ❤️
#secretsantagoespostal
Raiding my bookmark stash for my Secret Santa giftee!!!! 🎅🏼 I love finding little extras that I hope will make them smile! #secretsantagoespostal
Oooooh, I spy Santa stuff! #litsysecretsanta #iforgotthehashtags
Belated birthday present from my brother-in-law. Book gift cards!! Does he know me or does he know me? 📚💓😍