Vladimir Nabokov

NABOKV-L post 0000802, Wed, 8 Nov 1995 06:58:09 -0800

Subject
RJ:The Visit to the Museum (fwd)
Date
Body
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This week's story - THE VISIT TO THE MUSEUM
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By the end of the 1930s Nabokov, prompted by the threats of the
Nazis, had moved from Berlin to Paris, and from there he was to
emigrate to America in 1940. Possibly conscious of this gradual
move westwards away from his native land, he turned back in 1939
to the topic he had treated in poems and stories many times
before - the return to Russia. It was one of his last short
stories to be written in Russian. And for this occasion he chose
to employ the form of the *conte fantastique*, a tradition in
story-telling which goes back to Gautier and E.T.A. Hoffmann.

The narrator of 'The Visit to the Museum' (September 1938) has
been asked by a friend to locate and purchase a portrait of his
Russian grandfather which has found its way into a small
provincial museum in France. The narrator is sceptical and
reluctant, but when he visits the museum the portrait *is* there.
Suddenly his interest is aroused: "It is fun to be present at the
coming true of a dream, even if it is not one's own" (RB,p.70).
He applies to the curator for permission to purchase, but the
curator denies the existence of the painting. The narrator bets
him the money he has been given to make the purchase, and when
they go to check the curator admits that he was wrong. But when
the narrator presses his claim the curator disappears and the
narrator becomes lost in a maze of rooms in the fantastically
expanding museum. Gradually he finds himself amongst familiar
houses and streets, a light snow is falling, and he realises that
he is back in Russia. It is not the Russia of his childhood
however, but of the present day under the Soviets. His dream
turns into a nightmare, and he is forced to throw away everything
which would identify him as a returned emigre. Then the story
ends abruptly with a summary of subsequent events:

"I shall not recount how I was arrested nor tell of my
subsequent ordeals ... it cost me incredible patience
and effort to get back abroad, and ... ever since I
have foresworn carrying out commissions" (p.79)

The formula is traditional enough - a transfer from one plane of
reality to another and back again, though the 'return' is dealt
with in so rapid and summary a fashion it seems that Nabokov is
more interested in establishing the shock value of the initial
transfer. It is this which gives rise to the principal problem
with the story and the reason why it might have to be counted
amongst his interesting failures.

The problem is the lack of relation between the first and the
second part of the story. A realistic setting is established and
the museum visit is perfectly credible, all in keeping with
Nabokov's normal manner of controlling narratives. Then along
with the entrance of the curator, one or two mysteries are
introduced: he resembles a Russian wolfhound, throws letters he
has just written into a wastepaper basket, and does not know his
own collection. But none of these mysteries has any apparent
connection with the portrait or the narrator's subsequent
experience in the museum where he wanders from rooms full of
steam engines, railroad stations, and The Section of Fountains
and Brooks, back into the reconstruction of the Soviet Union. The
only element which unites the request, the portrait, narrator,
curator, and the fantasy world is that they are all Russian. And
these elements cohere only under the canopy of a "What if ...?" -
the impossibility of recovering the Russian past. In fictions
of the *conte fantastique* variety we are usually offered some
tantalising evidence of the fantasy world when the protagonist
returns to the 'real' one. In Gautier's 'La Cafetiere' as a
typical instance, the narrator awakes from his reverie of dancing
with the figures from paintings - but he has a fragment of the
coffee pot from this other world beside him. No such evidence
connects the two worlds of 'The Visit to the Museum'.

Of course the story is not offered in a state of high
seriousness, but it recalls 'The Thunderstorm' in failing to make
a convincing connexion between realism and fantasy. It is as if
Nabokov was not comfortable with this mode: he seems to operate
at his best when straining against but staying within the bounds
of literary realism.

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Next week's story - LIK
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