Ada to Van: ¡®Well, perhaps, I ought not to try to divert you ¡ª after you trampled upon those circles of mine; but I¡¯m going to relent and show you the real marvel of Ardis Manor; my larvarium, it¡¯s in the room next to mine¡¯ (which he never saw, never ¡ª how odd, come to think of it!). (1.8)

 

By ¡°those circles of mine¡± Ada means the roundlets of live light in her sun-and-shade games (¡°the most boring and stupid games anybody has ever invented, anywhere, any time, a.m. or p.m.¡±, according to Van). Ada makes a reference to Noli turbare circulos meos (¡°do not disturb my circles¡±), the phrase attributed to Archimedes (the Greek mathematician who was killed by a Roman soldier). In his essay on Baltrushaitis in ¡°The Silhouettes of Russian Writers¡± Ayhenvald quotes Baltrushaitis¡¯ poem Noli tangere circulos meos (1906) and says that in the poet¡¯s lips the famous words of Archimedes acquire a more profound meaning:

 

§µ§Ô§Ý§å§Ò§Ý§×§ß§ß§í§Û §ã§Þ§í§ã§Ý §á§à§Ý§å§é§Ñ§ð§ä §Ó §å§ã§ä§Ñ§ç §ß§Ñ§ê§Ö§Ô§à §á§à§ï§ä§Ñ §Ù§ß§Ñ§Þ§Ö§ß§Ú§ä§í§Ö §¡§â§ç§Ú§Þ§Ö§Õ§Ñ - Noli tangere circulos meos! §¿§ä§Ú circuli, §ï§ä§Ú §Ü§â§å§Ô§Ú §Ù§Ö§Þ§ß§í§Ö §Ú §Ö§ã§ä§î §ß§Ñ§ê§Ö §Ø§Ú§Ù§ß§Ö§ß§ß§à§Ö §Õ§Ö§Ý§à: §ß§Ñ§Õ§à §Ú§ç §Õ§à§é§Ö§â§ä§Ú§ä§î, §ß§Ñ§Õ§à §Õ§à§ã§Ý§å§ê§Ñ§ä§î §Ó§Ö§ë§Ú§Û §Ù§Ó§à§ß §Ü§à§Ý§à§Ü§à§Ý§à§Ó, §à§Ò§Ö§â§Ö§é§î §ã§Ó§à§× §Õ§å§ê§Ö§Ó§ß§à§Ö §Õ§à§ã§ä§à§ñ§ß§Ú§Ö §à§ä §Ó§ã§ñ§Ü§Ú§ç §ß§Ñ§á§Ñ§Õ§Ö§ß§Ú§Û §Ú §á§Ñ§Õ§Ö§ß§Ú§Û.

 

According to Ayhenvald, we have to protect the riches of our soul from all the attacks and falls (napadeniy i padeniy). When they climb the glossy-limbed shattal tree (the Tree of Knowledge that grows in Ardis Park), Van and Ada nearly fall down:

 

One afternoon they were climbing the glossy-limbed shattal tree at the bottom of the garden. Mlle Larivi¨¨re and little Lucette, screened by a caprice of the coppice but just within earshot, were playing grace hoops. One glimpsed now and then, above or through the foliage, the skimming hoop passing from one unseen sending stick to another. The first cicada of the season kept trying out its instrument. A silver-and-sable skybab squirrel sat sampling a cone on the back of a bench.

Van, in blue gym suit, having worked his way up to a fork just under his agile playmate (who naturally was better acquainted with the tree¡¯s intricate map) but not being able to see her face, betokened mute communication by taking her ankle between finger and thumb as she would have a closed butterfly. Her bare foot slipped, and the two panting youngsters tangled ignominiously among the branches, in a shower of drupes and leaves, clutching at each other, and the next moment, as they regained a semblance of balance, his expressionless face and cropped head were between her legs and a last fruit fell with a thud ¡ª the dropped dot of an inverted exclamation point. She was wearing his wristwatch and a cotton frock.

(¡®Remember?¡¯

¡®Yes, of course, I remember: you kissed me here, on the inside ¡ª¡¯

¡®And you started to strangle me with those devilish knees of yours ¡ª¡¯

¡®I was seeking some sort of support.¡¯) (1.15)

 

Describing his first physical contact with Ada, Van says that ¡°we touch in silhouette:¡±

 

After the first contact, so light, so mute, between his soft lips and her softer skin had been established ¡ª high up in that dappled tree, with only that stray ardilla daintily leavesdropping ¡ª nothing seemed changed in one sense, all was lost in another. Such contacts evolve their own texture; a tactile sensation is a blind spot; we touch in silhouette. (1.16)

 

At the end of the chapter Ada mentions Kim Beauharnais, the kitchen boy and photographer at Ardis whom Marina (Van¡¯s, Ada¡¯s and Lucette¡¯s mother) wants to take a picture of Van and Ada:

 

But nature is motion and growth. One afternoon he came up behind her in the music room more noiselessly than ever before because he happened to be barefooted ¡ª and, turning her head, little Ada shut her eyes and pressed her lips to his in a fresh-rose kiss that entranced and baffled Van.

¡®Now run along,¡¯ she said, ¡®quick, quick, I¡¯m busy,¡¯ and as he lagged like an idiot, she anointed his flushed forehead with her paintbrush in the semblance of an ancient Estotian ¡®sign of the cross.¡¯ ¡®I have to finish this,¡¯ she added, pointing with her violet-purple-soaked thin brush at a blend of Ophrys scolopax and Ophrys veenae, ¡®and in a minute we must dress up because Marina wants Kim to take our picture ¡ª holding hands and grinning¡¯ (grinning, and then turning back to her hideous flower). (ibid.)

 

Seven and a half years later Van and Ada look up this photograph in Kim Beauharnais¡¯ album:

 

A formal photograph, on a separate page: Adochka, pretty and impure in her flimsy, and Vanichka in gray-flannel suit, with slant-striped school tie, facing the kimera (chimera, camera) side by side, at attention, he with the shadow of a forced grin, she, expressionless. Both recalled the time (between the first tiny cross and a whole graveyard of kisses) and the occasion: it was ordered by Marina, who had it framed and set up in her bedroom next to a picture of her brother at twelve or fourteen clad in a bayronka (open shirt) and cupping a guinea pig in his gowpen (hollowed hands); the three looked like siblings, with the dead boy providing a vivisectional alibi. (2.7)

 

A guinea pig in Uncle Ivan¡¯s gowpen brings to mind Cheepy, in VN's novel Kamera Obskura (1932) the guinea pig drawn by Robert Horn (a gifted but unprincipled artist). One of Horn¡¯s drawings of Cheepy is accompanied by the brief Latin phrase Noli me tangere:

 

§£ §ß§Ñ§é§Ñ§Ý§Ö 1928 §Ô§à§Õ§Ñ §Ó §¢§Ö§â§Ý§Ú§ß§Ö §Ù§ß§Ñ§ä§à§Ü§å §Ø§Ú§Ó§à§á§Ú§ã§Ú §¢§â§å§ß§à §¬§â§Ö§é§Þ§Ñ§â§å, §é§Ö§Ý§à§Ó§Ö§Ü§å §à§é§Ö§ß§î, §Ü§Ñ§Ø§Ö§ä§ã§ñ, §ã§Ó§Ö§Õ§å§ë§Ö§Þ§å, §ß§à §à§ä§ß§ð§Õ§î §ß§Ö §Ò§Ý§Ö§ã§ä§ñ§ë§Ö§Þ§å, §á§â§Ú§ê§Ý§à§ã§î §Ò§í§ä§î §ï§Ü§ã§á§Ö§â§ä§à§Þ §Ó §á§å§ã§ä§ñ§é§ß§à§Þ, §á§â§ñ§Þ§à §Õ§Ñ§Ø§Ö §Ô§Ý§å§á§à§Þ §Õ§Ö§Ý§Ö. §®§à§Õ§ß§í§Û §ç§å§Õ§à§Ø§ß§Ú§Ü §¬§à§Ü §ß§Ñ§á§Ú§ã§Ñ§Ý §á§à§â§ä§â§Ö§ä §æ§Ú§Ý§î§Þ§à§Ó§à§Û §Ñ§â§ä§Ú§ã§ä§Ü§Ú §¥§à§â§Ú§Ñ§ß§ß§í §¬§Ñ§â§Ö§ß§Ú§ß§à§Û. §¶§Ú§â§Þ§Ñ §Ý§Ú§é§ß§í§ç §Ü§â§Ö§Þ§à§Ó §á§â§Ú§à§Ò§â§Ö§Ý§Ñ §å §ß§Ö§× §á§â§Ñ§Ó§à §á§à§Þ§Ö§ë§Ñ§ä§î §ß§Ñ §á§Ý§Ñ§Ü§Ñ§ä§Ñ§ç §â§Ö§á§â§à§Õ§å§Ü§è§Ú§ð §ã §á§à§â§ä§â§Ö§ä§Ñ §Ó §Ó§Ú§Õ§Ö §â§Ö§Ü§Ý§Ñ§Þ§í §ã§Ó§à§Ö§Û §Ô§å§Ò§ß§à§Û §á§à§Þ§Ñ§Õ§í. §¯§Ñ §á§à§â§ä§â§Ö§ä§Ö §¥§à§â§Ú§Ñ§ß§ß§Ñ §Õ§Ö§â§Ø§Ñ§Ý§Ñ, §á§â§Ú§Ø§Ñ§ä§à§Û §Ü §Ô§à§Ý§à§Þ§å §ã§Ó§à§Ö§Þ§å §á§Ý§Ö§é§å, §Ò§à§Ý§î§ê§å§ë§å§ð §á§Ý§ð§ê§Ö§Ó§å§ð §¹§Ú§á§Ú. §¤§à§â§ß §Ú§Ù §¯§î§ð-§«§à§â§Ü§Ñ §ä§à§ä§é§Ñ§ã §á§â§Ö§Õ§ì§ñ§Ó§Ú§Ý §æ§Ú§â§Þ§Ö §Ú§ã§Ü.

§£§ã§Ö§Þ §á§â§Ú§Ü§à§ã§ß§à§Ó§Ö§ß§ß§í§Þ §Ü §ï§ä§à§Þ§å §Õ§Ö§Ý§å §Ò§í§Ý§à §Ó §Ü§à§ß§è§Ö §Ü§à§ß§è§à§Ó §Ó§Ñ§Ø§ß§à §ä§à§Ý§î§Ü§à §à§Õ§ß§à ¨C §á§à§Ò§à§Ý§î§ê§Ö §á§à§ê§å§Þ§Ö§ä§î: §à §Ü§Ñ§â§ä§Ú§ß§Ö §Ú §à§Ò §Ñ§Ü§ä§â§Ú§ã§Ö §á§Ú§ã§Ñ§Ý§Ú, §á§à§Þ§Ñ§Õ§å §á§à§Ü§å§á§Ñ§Ý§Ú, §Ñ §¹§Ú§á§Ú, §å§Ø§Ö §ä§Ö§á§Ö§â§î §ä§à§Ø§Ö ¨C §å§Ó§í! ¨C §ß§å§Ø§Õ§Ñ§Ó§ê§Ñ§ñ§ã§ñ §Ó §â§Ö§Ü§Ý§Ñ§Þ§Ö, §Õ§Ñ§Ò§í §à§Ø§Ú§Ó§Ú§ä§î §ç§Ý§Ñ§Õ§Ö§Ó§ê§å§ð §Ý§ð§Ò§à§Ó§î, ¨C §á§à§ñ§Ó§Ú§Ý§Ñ§ã§î §ß§Ñ §ß§à§Ó§à§Þ §â§Ú§ã§å§ß§Ü§Ö §¤§à§â§ß§Ñ c§à §ã§Ü§â§à§Þ§ß§à §à§á§å§ë§Ö§ß§ß§í§Þ§Ú §Ô§Ý§Ñ§Ù§Ñ§Þ§Ú, §ã §è§Ó§Ö§ä§Ü§à§Þ §Ó §Ý§Ñ§á§Ü§Ö §Ú §ã §Ý§Ñ§Ü§à§ß§Ú§é§Ö§ã§Ü§à§Û §ß§Ñ§Õ§á§Ú§ã§î§ð «Noli me tangere». (Chapter I)

 

Dorianna Karenin (who was portrayed pressing the big plushy Cheepy to her bare shoulder) is a movie actress. One of the photographs in Kim¡¯s album shows Sumerechnikov, the ¡°American precursor of the Lumi¨¨re brothers¡± (1.6) whose name comes from sumerki (dusk):

 

A photograph of an oval painting, considerably diminished, portrayed Princess Sophia Zemski as she was at twenty, in 1775, with her two children (Marina¡¯s grandfather born in 1772, and Demon¡¯s grandmother, born in 1773).

¡®I don¡¯t seem to remember it,¡¯ said Van, ¡®where did it hang?¡¯

¡®In Marina¡¯s boudoir. And do you know who this bum in the frock coat is?¡¯

¡®Looks to me like a poor print cut out of a magazine. Who¡¯s he?¡¯

¡®Sumerechnikov! He took sumerographs of Uncle Vanya years ago.¡¯

¡®The Twilight before the Lumi¨¨res. Hey, and here¡¯s Alonso, the swimming-pool expert. I met his sweet sad daughter at a Cyprian party ¡ª she felt and smelt and melted like you. The strong charm of coincidence.¡¯

¡®I¡¯m not interested. Now comes a little boy.¡¯

¡®Zdraste, Ivan Dementievich,¡¯ said Van, greeting his fourteen-year-old self, shirtless, in shorts, aiming a conical missile at the marble fore-image of a Crimean girl doomed to offer an everlasting draught of marble water to a dying marine from her bullet-chipped jar. (2.7)

 

A colloquial form of zdravstvuyte (¡°how do you do¡±), Van¡¯s zdraste brings to mind Ada¡¯s phrase zdravstvuyte, apofeoz (¡°lo and behold: the apotheosis¡±):

 

¡®I remember the cards,¡¯ she said, ¡®and the light and the noise of the rain, and your blue cashmere pullover ¡ª but nothing else, nothing odd or improper, that came later. Besides, only in French love stories les messieurs hument young ladies.¡¯

¡®Well, I did while you went on with your delicate work. Tactile magic. Infinite patience. Fingertips stalking gravity. Badly bitten nails, my sweet. Forgive these notes, I cannot really express the discomfort of bulky, sticky desire. You see I was hoping that when your castle toppled you would make a Russian splash gesture of surrender and sit down on my hand.¡¯

¡®It was not a castle. It was a Pompeian Villa with mosaics and paintings inside, because I used only court cards from Grandpa¡¯s old gambling packs. Did I sit down on your hot hard hand?¡¯

¡®On my open palm, darling. A pucker of paradise. You remained still for a moment, fitting my cup. Then you rearranged your limbs and reknelt.¡¯

¡®Quick, quick, quick, collecting the flat shining cards again to build again, again slowly? We were abominably depraved, weren¡¯t we?¡¯

¡®All bright kids are depraved. I see you do recollect ¡ª¡¯

¡®Not that particular occasion, but the apple tree, and when you kissed my neck, et tout le reste. And then ¡ª zdravstvuyte: apofeoz, the Night of the Burning Barn!¡¯ (1.18)

 

Describing the Night of the Burning Barn when he and Ada make love for the first time, Van mentions electricity (banned on Antiterra after the L disaster in the middle of the 19th century):

 

¡®I want to ask you,¡¯ she said quite distinctly, but also quite beside herself because his ramping palm had now worked its way through at the armpit, and his thumb on a nipplet made her palate tingle: ringing for the maid in Georgian novels ¡ª inconceivable without the presence of elettricit¨¤ ¡ª

(I protest. You cannot. It is banned even in Lithuanian and Latin. Ada¡¯s note.)

 

Jurgis Baltrushaitis (1873-1944) was a Lithuanian poet who wrote in Russian (and who was the head of Lithuanian diplomatic mission in Moscow after Lenin came to power in October of 1917).

 

The Antiterran L disaster seems to correspond to the mock execution of Dostoevski and the Petrashevskians that happened in our world on January 3, 1850 (NS). In his essay on Dostoevski (¡°the only author who wrote after he had seen the world and had heard his soul from the height of a scaffold¡±) in ¡°The Silhouettes of Russian Writers¡± Ayhenvald calls Dostoevski ¡°Ivan the Terrible of Russian literature:¡±

 

§®§å§é§Ú§ä§Ö§Ý§î §Ú §Þ§å§é§Ö§ß§Ú§Ü, §ª§Ó§Ñ§ß §¤§â§à§Ù§ß§í§Û §â§å§ã§ã§Ü§à§Û §Ý§Ú§ä§Ö§â§Ñ§ä§å§â§í, §à§ß §Ü§Ñ§Ù§ß§Ú§ä §ß§Ñ§ã §Ý§ð§ä§à§Û §Ü§Ñ§Ù§ß§î§ð §ã§Ó§à§Ö§Ô§à §ã§Ý§à§Ó§Ñ §Ú §á§à§ä§à§Þ, §Ü§Ñ§Ü §ª§Ó§Ñ§ß §¤§â§à§Ù§ß§í§Û, §Ø§Ú§Ó§à§Û §é§Ö§Ý§à§Ó§Ö§é§Ö§ã§Ü§Ú§Û §Ñ§ß§é§Ñ§â, §â§à§á§ë§Ö§ä §Ú §Þ§à§Ý§Ú§ä§ã§ñ, §Ú §Ù§à§Ó§Ö§ä §·§â§Ú§ã§ä§Ñ, §Ú §·§â§Ú§ã§ä§à§ã §á§â§Ú§ç§à§Õ§Ú§ä §Ü §ï§ä§à§Þ§å §Ò§Ö§Ù§å§Þ§è§å §Ú §Þ§å§Õ§â§Ö§è§å, §Ü §ï§ä§à§Þ§å §ð§â§à§Õ§Ú§Ó§à§Þ§å, §Ú §ä§à§Ô§Õ§Ñ §à§ß §á§Ý§Ñ§é§Ö§ä §Ü§â§à§Ó§Ñ§Ó§í§Þ§Ú §ã§Ý§Ö§Ù§Ñ§Þ§Ú §Ú §å§á§à§×§ß§ß§à §ä§Ö§â§Ù§Ñ§Ö§ä §ã§Ö§Ò§ñ §ã§Ó§à§Ú§Þ§Ú §Ó§Ö§â§Ú§Ô§Ñ§Þ§Ú, §ã§Ó§à§Ú§Þ§Ú §Ü§Ñ§ä§à§â§Ø§ß§í§Þ§Ú §è§Ö§á§ñ§Þ§Ú, §Ü§à§ä§à§â§í§Ö §ß§Ñ§Ý§à§Ø§Ú§Ý§Ú §ß§Ñ §ß§Ö§Ô§à §Ý§ð§Õ§Ú §Ú §Ü§à§ä§à§â§í§ç §à§ß §å§Ø§Ö §Ú §ã§Ñ§Þ §ß§Ö §Þ§à§Ô §ã§Ò§â§à§ã§Ú§ä§î §ã§à §ã§Ó§à§Ö§Û §Ú§Ù§Þ§å§é§Ö§ß§ß§à§Û §Õ§å§ê§Ú.

 

In Pushkin¡¯s drama Boris Godunov (1825) Grigoriy Otrepiev (the impostor who impersonates Prince Dmitri, the youngest son of Ivan the Terrible) flees to Lithuania. As he speaks to Shuyski (a character in Boris Godunov), Pushkin (the poet¡¯s ancestor) mentions Latinskie popy (the Catholic priests):

 

§± §å §ê §Ü §Ú §ß
§¥§Ñ §ã§Ý§í§ê§ß§à, §à§ß §å§Þ§×§ß, §á§â§Ú§Ó§Ö§ä§Ý§Ú§Ó, §Ý§à§Ó§à§Ü,
§±§à §ß§â§Ñ§Ó§å §Ó§ã§Ö§Þ. §®§à§ã§Ü§à§Ó§ã§Ü§Ú§ç §Ò§Ö§Ô§Ý§Ö§è§à§Ó
§°§Ò§Ó§à§â§à§Ø§Ú§Ý. §­§Ñ§ä§Ú§ß§ã§Ü§Ú§Ö §á§à§á§í
§³ §ß§Ú§Þ §Ù§Ñ§à§Õ§ß§à. §¬§à§â§à§Ý§î §Ö§Ô§à §Ý§Ñ§ã§Ü§Ñ§Ö§ä
§ª, §Ô§à§Ó§à§â§ñ§ä, §á§à§Þ§à§Ô§å §à§Ò§Ö§ë§Ñ§Ý.

 

PUSHKIN. 'Tis said that he is wise,
Affable, cunning, popular with all men.
He has bewitched the fugitives from Moscow,
The Catholic priests see eye to eye with him.
The King caresses him, and, it is said,
Has promised help.

 

In Pushkin¡¯s drama the Pretender mentions latinskie stikhi (Latin verses) and latinskaya muza (Latin Muse):

 

§¹§ä§à §Ó§Ú§Ø§å §ñ? §­§Ñ§ä§Ú§ß§ã§Ü§Ú§Ö §ã§ä§Ú§ç§Ú!

§³§ä§à§Ü§â§Ñ§ä §ã§Ó§ñ§ë§Ö§ß §ã§à§ð§Ù §Þ§Ö§é§Ñ §Ú §Ý§Ú§â§í,

§¦§Õ§Ú§ß§í§Û §Ý§Ñ§Ó§â §Ú§ç §Õ§â§å§Ø§ß§à §à§Ò§Ó§Ú§Ó§Ñ§Ö§ä.

§²§à§Õ§Ú§Ý§ã§ñ §ñ §á§à§Õ §ß§Ö§Ò§à§Þ §á§à§Ý§å§ß§à§ë§ß§í§Þ,

§¯§à §Þ§ß§Ö §Ù§ß§Ñ§Ü§à§Þ §Ý§Ñ§ä§Ú§ß§ã§Ü§à§Û §®§å§Ù§í §Ô§à§Ý§à§ã,

§ª §ñ §Ý§ð§Ò§Ý§ð §á§Ñ§â§ß§Ñ§ã§ã§Ü§Ú§Ö §è§Ó§Ö§ä§í.

§Á §Ó§Ö§â§å§ð §Ó §á§â§à§â§à§é§Ö§ã§ä§Ó§Ñ §á§Ú§Ú§ä§à§Ó.

§¯§Ö§ä, §ß§Ö §Ó§à§ä§ë§Ö §Ó §Ú§ç §á§Ý§Ñ§Þ§Ö§ß§ß§à§Û §Ô§â§å§Õ§Ú

§¬§Ú§á§Ú§ä §Ó§à§ã§ä§à§â§Ô: §Ò§Ý§Ñ§Ô§à§ã§Ý§à§Ó§Ú§ä§ã§ñ §á§à§Õ§Ó§Ú§Ô,

§¦§Ô§à §Ø §à§ß§Ú §á§â§à§ã§Ý§Ñ§Ó§Ú§Ý§Ú §Ù§Ñ§â§Ñ§ß§Ö!

§±§â§Ú§Ò§Ý§Ú§Ø§î§ã§ñ, §Õ§â§å§Ô. §£ §Þ§à§× §Ó§à§ã§á§à§Þ§Ú§ß§Ñ§ß§î§Ö

§±§â§Ú§Þ§Ú §ã§Ö§Û §Õ§Ñ§â.

(§¥§Ñ§×§ä §Ö§Þ§å §á§Ö§â§ã§ä§Ö§ß§î)

§¬§à§Ô§Õ§Ñ §ã§à §Þ§ß§à§Û §ã§Ó§Ö§â§ê§Ú§ä§ã§ñ

§³§å§Õ§î§Ò§í §Ù§Ñ§Ó§Ö§ä, §Ü§à§Ô§Õ§Ñ §Ü§à§â§à§ß§å §á§â§Ö§Õ§Ü§à§Ó

§¯§Ñ§Õ§Ö§ß§å §ñ; §ß§Ñ§Õ§Ö§ð§ã§î §Ó§ß§à§Ó§î §å§ã§Ý§í§ê§Ñ§ä§î

§´§Ó§à§Û §ã§Ý§Ñ§Õ§Ü§Ú§Û §Ô§Ý§Ñ§ã, §ä§Ó§à§Û §Ó§Õ§à§ç§ß§à§Ó§Ö§ß§ß§í§Û §Ô§Ú§Þ§ß

Musa gloriam coronat, gloriaque musam.

§ª§ä§Ñ§Ü, §Õ§â§å§Ù§î§ñ, §Õ§à §Ù§Ñ§Ó§ä§â§Ñ, §Õ§à §ã§Ó§Ú§Õ§Ñ§ß§î§ñ.

 

P r e t e n d e r

What do I see? Verses in Latin!

Blessed is the holy unity of sword and plough,

One laurel friendly twines them round.

Under the midnight heaven I was born,

The voice of Latin Muse, however,

Is familiar to me.

I love the flowers of Parnassus

And I believe in prophecy of poets.

It's not in vain, delight boils in their flaming chests:

Blessed is the feat: they've glorified it in advance!

Come here, my friend. Accept this gift

and you'll remember me.

(Gives him a ring)

When covenant of my fate is done for me

When I put on the crown of my fathers,

I hope to hear your sweet voice and your inspired hymn again.

Musa gloriam coronat, gloriaque musam.

And so, friends, till tomorrow, goodbye.

(transl. A. Vagapov)

 

Parnasskie tsvety (the flowers of Parnassus) mentioned by the Pretender bring to mind Mlle Larivi¨¨re¡¯s penname:

 

Yes! Wasn¡¯t that a scream? Larivi¨¨re blossoming forth, bosoming forth as a great writer! A sensational Canadian bestselling author! Her story ¡®The Necklace¡¯ (La rivi¨¨re de diamants) had become a classic in girls¡¯ schools and her gorgeous pseudonym ¡®Guillaume de Monparnasse¡¯ (the leaving out of the ¡®t¡¯ made it more intime) was well-known from Quebec to Kaluga. (1.31)

 

For the first time Mlle Larivi¨¨re¡¯s reads her story at the picnic on Ada¡¯s twelfth birthday. At the same picnic Marina shows Van and Lucette ¡°the exact pine and the exact spot on its rugged red trunk where in old, very old days a magnetic telephone nested, communicating with Ardis Hall:¡±

 

Marina¡¯s contribution was more modest, but it too had its charm. She showed Van and Lucette (the others knew all about it) the exact pine and the exact spot on its rugged red trunk where in old, very old days a magnetic telephone nested, communicating with Ardis Hall. After the banning of ¡®currents and circuits,¡¯ she said (rapidly but freely, with an actress¡¯s d¨¦sinvolture pronouncing those not quite proper words ¡ª while puzzled Lucette tugged at the sleeve of Van, of Vanichka, who could explain everything), her husband¡¯s grandmother, an engineer of great genius, ¡®tubed¡¯ the Redmount rill (running just below the glade from a hill above Ardis). She made it carry vibrational vibgyors (prismatic pulsations) through a system of platinum segments. These produced, of course, only one-way messages, and the installation and upkeep of the ¡®drums¡¯ (cylinders) cost, she said, a Jew¡¯s eye, so that the idea was dropped, however tempting the possibility of informing a picnicking Veen that his house was on fire. (1.13)

 

Vibrational vibgyors bring to mind volny i vibratsii (waves and vibrations) that, according to Ayhenvald, the world is sending to Dostoevski:

 

§®§Ú§â §á§à§ã§í§Ý§Ñ§Ö§ä §Ö§Þ§å §Ó§ã§Ö §ã§Ó§à§Ú §Ó§à§Ý§ß§í §Ú §Ó§Ú§Ò§â§Ñ§è§Ú§Ú, §Þ§å§é§Ú§ä §Ö§Ô§à §à§Ò§ß§Ñ§Ø§Ö§ß§ß§í§Ö §ß§Ö§â§Ó§í, §Þ§Ú§â §â§Ñ§Ù§Õ§â§Ñ§Ø§Ñ§Ö§ä §Ö§Ô§à. §±§à§â§à§Ô §â§Ñ§Ù§Õ§â§Ñ§Ø§Ö§ß§Ú§ñ §Ý§Ö§Ø§Ú§ä §Õ§Ý§ñ §ß§Ö§Ô§à §à§é§Ö§ß§î §ß§Ú§Ù§Ü§à.

 

Darkbloom (¡®Notes to Ada¡¯): vibgyor: violet-indigo-blue-green-yellow-orange-red.

 

Seven colors of the rainbow bring to mind ¡°our black rainbow¡± (as Ada calls the period of her first separation with Van):

 

For their correspondence in the first period of separation, Van and Ada had invented a code which they kept perfecting during the next fifteen months after Van left Ardis. The entire period of that separation was to span almost four years (¡®our black rainbow,¡¯ Ada termed it), from September, 1884 to June, 1888, with two brief interludes of intolerable bliss (in August, 1885 and June, 1886) and a couple of chance meetings (¡®through a grille of rain¡¯). (1.26)

 

In its turn, Ada¡¯s black rainbow brings to mind Baltrushaitis¡¯ poem Chyornoe solntse (¡°The Black Sun¡±). On the other hand, in his essay on Dostoevski Ayhenvald compares the author of ¡°Crime and Punishment¡± to chyornoe solntse stradaniya (¡°the black sun of suffering¡±):

 

§ª §Ô§ß§Ö§ä§å§ë§Ö§Û §Ù§Ñ§Ô§Ñ§Õ§Ü§à§Û §Ó§ã§ä§Ñ§×§ä §à§ß §á§Ö§â§Ö§Õ §ß§Ñ§Þ§Ú, §Ü§Ñ§Ü §à§Ý§Ú§è§Ö§ä§Ó§à§â§Ö§ß§ß§Ñ§ñ §Ò§à§Ý§î, §Ü§Ñ§Ü §é§×§â§ß§à§Ö §ã§à§Ý§ß§è§Ö §ã§ä§â§Ñ§Õ§Ñ§ß§Ú§ñ.

 

¡°The black sun¡± and Ada¡¯s sun-and-shade games remind one of Kuprin¡¯s story Zhidkoe solntse (¡°The Liquid Sun,¡± 1912) whose hero attempts ¡°to catch the sun.¡± In Kuprin¡¯s story Leonhard Euler (the Swiss mathematician, 1707-83) is mentioned:

 

- §©§ßa§é§Ú§ä, §¤§å§Ü, §Ú §¿§Û§Ý§Ö§â, §Ú §À§ß§Ô?..

- §¥a, - §á§â§Ö§â§Óa§Ý §Þ§Ö§ß§ñ §Ý§à§â§Õ §¹a§Ý§î§ã§Ò§Ö§â§Ú, - §Ú §à§ß§Ú, §Ú §¶§â§Ö§ß§Ö§Ý§î, §Ú §¬§à§ê§Ú, §Ú §®a§Ý§ð§ã, §Ú §¤§ð§Û§Ô§Ö§ß§ã, §Ú §Õa§Ø§Ö §Ó§Ö§Ý§Ú§Ü§Ú§Û §¡§âa§Ô§à - §Ó§ã§Ö §à§ß§Ú §à§ê§Ú§Òa§Ý§Ú§ã§î, §âa§ã§ã§Þa§ä§â§Ú§Óa§ñ §ñ§Ó§Ý§Ö§ß§Ú§Ö §ã§Ó§Ö§äa §Üa§Ü §à§Õ§ß§à §Ú§Ù §ã§à§ã§ä§à§ñ§ß§Ú§Û §Þ§Ú§â§à§Ó§à§Ô§à §ï§æ§Ú§âa.

 

According to Van, at the age of ten he could solve an Euler-type problem in less than twenty minutes:

 

The year 1880 (Aqua was still alive ¡ª somehow, somewhere!) was to prove to be the most retentive and talented one in his long, too long, never too long life. He was ten. His father had lingered in the West where the many-colored mountains acted upon Van as they had on all young Russians of genius. He could solve an Euler-type problem or learn by heart Pushkin¡¯s ¡®Headless Horseman¡¯ poem in less than twenty minutes. (1.28)

 

In our world The Headless Horseman is a novel by Captain Mayne Reid. Its main character, the mustanger Maurice Gerald, is Irish. In his memoir essay Belyi koridor (¡°The White Corridor,¡± 1937) Khodasevich mentions Baltrushaitis and dve irlandskie p¡¯esy (two Irish plays) that he brought for discussion in the repertoire section of TEO (Theatre Committee):

 

§°§Õ§ß§Ñ§Ø§Õ§í §Þ§í §Ó §´§Ö§Ñ§ä§â§Ñ§Ý§î§ß§à§Þ §à§ä§Õ§Ö§Ý§Ö §á§â§à§ã§Ú§Õ§Ö§Ý§Ú §é§Ñ§ã§à§Ó §Õ§à §á§ñ§ä§Ú. §Á §ã§Ú§Õ§Ö§Ý §Õ§Ñ§Ý§Ö§Ü§à §à§ä §¬§Ñ§Þ§Ö§ß§Ö§Ó§à§Û. §£§Õ§â§å§Ô §á§à§Ý§å§é§Ñ§ð §à§ä §ß§Ö§× §Ù§Ñ§á§Ú§ã§Ü§å. §±§Ú§ê§Ö§ä, §é§ä§à §Ù§Ñ§ã§Ö§Õ§Ñ§ß§Ú§Ö §Ù§Ñ§ä§ñ§ß§å§Ý§à§ã§î, §Ñ §Þ§Ö§Ø§Õ§å §ä§Ö§Þ §å §¢§Ñ§Ý§ä§â§å§ê§Ñ§Û§ä§Ú§ã§Ñ §Ö§ã§ä§î §Õ§Ó§Ö §Ú§â§Ý§Ñ§ß§Õ§ã§Ü§Ú§Ö §á§î§Ö§ã§í, §Ü§à§ä§à§â§í§Ö §ß§Ö§à§Ò§ç§à§Õ§Ú§Þ§à §ï§Ü§ã§ä§â§Ö§ß§ß§à §á§â§à§é§Ö§ã§ä§î §Ú §à§Ò§ã§å§Õ§Ú§ä§î §Ó §â§Ö§á§Ö§â§ä§å§Ñ§â§ß§à§Û §ã§Ö§Ü§è§Ú§Ú.

 

§®§Ö§Ø §ä§Ö§Þ §ã§à§Ò§Ú§â§Ñ§Ý§Ú§ã§î "§ß§Ñ§ê§Ú". §±§â§Ú§ê§×§Ý §¢§Ñ§Ý§ä§â§å§ê§Ñ§Û§ä§Ú§ã §ã §á§Ñ§á§Ü§à§Û §Ó §â§å§Ü§Ñ§ç (§Ó§à§ä §à§ß§Ú §Ô§Õ§Ö, §Ú§â§Ý§Ñ§ß§Õ§ã§Ü§Ú§Ö §á§î§Ö§ã§í!), §Ù§Ñ §ß§Ú§Þ - §¹§å§Ý§Ü§à§Ó, §ª§Ó§Ñ§ß §¯§à§Ó§Ú§Ü§à§Ó, §£§à§Ý§î§Ü§Ö§ß§ê§ä§Ö§Û§ß.

 

In Khodasevich¡¯s essay the white corridor is in Kremlin. In the last game of Flavita (the Russian Scrabble) that Van, Ada and Lucette ever played together Lucette¡¯s letters formed the word ¡°Kremlin¡± (that does not exist in Russian):

 

¡®Je ne peux rien faire,¡¯ wailed Lucette, ¡®mais rien ¡ª with my idiotic Buchstaben, REMNILK, LINKREM¡­¡¯

¡®Look,¡¯ whispered Van, ¡®c¡¯est tout simple, shift those two syllables and you get a fortress in ancient Muscovy.¡¯

¡®Oh, no,¡¯ said Ada, wagging her finger at the height of her temple in a way she had. ¡®Oh, no. That pretty word does not exist in Russian. A Frenchman invented it. There is no second syllable.¡¯

¡®Ruth for a little child?¡¯ interposed Van.

¡®Ruthless!¡¯ cried Ada.

¡®Well,¡¯ said Van, ¡®you can always make a little cream, KREM or KREME ¡ª or even better ¡ª there¡¯s KREMLI, which means Yukon prisons. Go through her ORHIDEYA.¡¯

¡®Through her silly orchid,¡¯ said Lucette. (1.36)

 

Pushkin is, of course, the author of Mednyi vsadnik (¡°The Bronze Horseman,¡± 1833). The Bronze Horseman is Falconet¡¯s equestrian monument of Peter I. In his poem Rossiya (¡°Russia,¡± 1924) Voloshin describes the execution of the last Russian tsar¡¯s family and says that Peter¡¯s circle is closed (petrovskiy zamknut  krug):

 

§ª §Ô§Õ§Ö-§ä§à §ß§Ñ §µ§â§Ñ§Ý§Ö §ã§â§Ö§Õ§î §Ý§Ö§ã§à§Ó

§­§Ñ§ä§í§ê§ã§Ü§Ú§Ö §ã§à§Ý§Õ§Ñ§ä§í §Ú §Þ§Ñ§Õ§î§ñ§â§í

§²§Ñ§ã§ã§ä§â§Ö§Ý§Ú§Ó§Ñ§ð§ä §è§Ñ§â§ã§Ü§å§ð §ã§Ö§Þ§î§ð

§£ §ã§å§Þ§ñ§ä§Ú§è§Ö §á§à§ã§á§Ö§ê§ß§í§ç §à§ä§ã§ä§å§á§Ý§Ö§ß§Ú§Û:

§¸§Ñ§â§Ö§Ó§Ú§é §ß§Ñ §â§å§Ü§Ñ§ç §è§Ñ§â§ñ, §à§Õ§ß§Ñ

§¸§Ñ§â§Ö§Ó§ß§Ñ §Þ§Ö§é§Ö§ä§ã§ñ, §á§à§Õ§å§ê§Ü§à§Û §á§â§Ú§Ü§â§í§Ó§Ñ§ñ§ã§î,

§¸§Ñ§â§Ú§è§Ñ §Ó§í§á§â§ñ§Þ§Ú§Ý§Ñ§ã§î §å §ã§ä§Ö§ß§í...

§±§à§ä§à§Þ §Ú§ç §Ø§Ô§å§ä §Ú §Ù§Ñ§â§í§Ó§Ñ§ð§ä §á§Ö§á§Ö§Ý.

§£§ã§× §Ü§à§ß§é§Ö§ß§à. §±§Ö§ä§â§à§Ó§ã§Ü§Ú§Û §Ù§Ñ§Þ§Ü§ß§å§ä §Ü§â§å§Ô.

 

Describing the difference between the geography of Terra and Antiterra (aka Demonia, Earth¡¯s twin planet on which Ada is set), Van mentions the Arctic no longer vicious Circle:

 

Ved¡¯ (¡®it is, isn¡¯t it¡¯) sidesplitting to imagine that ¡®Russia,¡¯ instead of being a quaint synonym of Estoty, the American province extending from the Arctic no longer vicious Circle to the United States proper, was on Terra the name of a country, transferred as if by some sleight of land across the ha-ha of a doubled ocean to the opposite hemisphere where it sprawled over all of today¡¯s Tartary, from Kurland to the Kuriles! (1.3)

 

Alexey Sklyarenko

Google Search
the archive
Contact
the Editors
NOJ Zembla Nabokv-L
Policies
Subscription options AdaOnline NSJ Ada Annotations L-Soft Search the archive VN Bibliography Blog

All private editorial communications are read by both co-editors.