Vladimir Nabokov

NABOKV-L post 0016582, Thu, 26 Jun 2008 15:28:30 -0300

Subject
Re: [NABOKOV-LIST] [GOGOLIAN EXTRACTS] Art: Ancillae and Human
Sacrifice.
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J.Aisenberg: you have concretely shown precise examples of his use of the Cinderella fairytale taking on strange and ironic meanings and connotations over the course Ada [...] which relates to specific context (what else is Ada but a kind of anti-fairytale fairytale) and the demonstrable thinking of the artist...

JM: Thanks! I've become interested in the possibility of "concretely showing" and, perhaps, about the "demonstrable thinking of the artist" only recently. This is why I keep wondering about Stan K-B's notes on the "Theory of General Relativity [...], in fact, the first practical and stunning application of B-L geometries to the real world, but unknown to Bolyai or Lobachevsky at the time. The impact of B-L on the history of science has been compared to that of Darwin!" added to his interest in VN's descriptions of "reality" (perceptual and conceptual).
Pygmalion was more successful with Galathea than Michelangelo's apparently real hammer-blow on the knee of his sculpture of Moses while exclaiming: "Parla!". I wonder if VN, reaching towards some ineffable paradaisal truth managed to hear his work "speak back" like HH (just once) heard Lolita...he was never the same after that...
Isn't truth what "responds", provokes "effects" or is, at least, monstrable?

Here is VN's poem "In Paradise" ( long before he wrote "Lolita"):

My soul, beyond distant death
your image I see is like this;
a provincial naturalist,
an eccentric lost in paradise.

There, in a glade, a wild angel slumbers,
a semi-pavonian creature.
Poke at ir curiously
with your green umbrella,

speculating how, first of all,
you will write a paper on it,
then - But there are no learned journals,
nor any readers in paradise!

And there you stand, not yet believing
your wordless woe.
About that blue somnolent animal
whom will you tell, whom?

Where is the world and the labeled roses,
the museums and the stuffed birds?
And you look and look through your tears
at those unnamable wings.
(Berlin, 1927)





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