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Fw: reply to Oleg Dorman
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MessageEdnote. The original message from Oleg Dorman follows. Mr. Dorman is a Moscow Nabokov aficionado and film maker.
From: DMITRI NABOKOV
I would respecfully suggest to Mr. Dorman that he put his comment in perspective. I fully commiserate with the victim of economic injustice in Russia who can at last read what he wants but can afford few books. The $1000 permission fee was intended as a token amount to reinforce the concepts of licensing and of the moral rights of authors. The key issue was not the sum itself -- the Estate is generous and flexible with publishers who toe the line. It was the publisher's insolent refusal to respect my moral rights regarding what, in keeping with my late father's wishes, should and should not be included in the book. And it was not the impoverished reader who was asked to pay, but a publisher who has made many times that much while frequently ignoring authors' rights. One might also recall that Nabokov wrote most of those poems in exile, in difficult circumstances where this amount would also have represented several months' earnings (an example: for his Anya v Strane Chudes he was paid five dollars). As soon as the cloak of censorship was lifted, Russia began loudly claiming him as her own, and publishing hundred-thousand-copy runs of his books while conveniently forgetting all his rights. Having been robbed blind once by the Russian Bolsheviks, Nabokov and his estate were robbed again, by Russian publishers whose rights were established unilaterally, and whose only license was "perestroika," to the tune not of a thousand dollars but of millions. Much of that income could have served nobler ends. Incidentally, proceeds from sales of licensed Nabokov works in Russia are donated to the Nabokov Museum, an impoverished Russian institution run by people on meager salaries and by volunteers, and enjoying no government support.
Cordially,
DN
From: DMITRI NABOKOV
I would respecfully suggest to Mr. Dorman that he put his comment in perspective. I fully commiserate with the victim of economic injustice in Russia who can at last read what he wants but can afford few books. The $1000 permission fee was intended as a token amount to reinforce the concepts of licensing and of the moral rights of authors. The key issue was not the sum itself -- the Estate is generous and flexible with publishers who toe the line. It was the publisher's insolent refusal to respect my moral rights regarding what, in keeping with my late father's wishes, should and should not be included in the book. And it was not the impoverished reader who was asked to pay, but a publisher who has made many times that much while frequently ignoring authors' rights. One might also recall that Nabokov wrote most of those poems in exile, in difficult circumstances where this amount would also have represented several months' earnings (an example: for his Anya v Strane Chudes he was paid five dollars). As soon as the cloak of censorship was lifted, Russia began loudly claiming him as her own, and publishing hundred-thousand-copy runs of his books while conveniently forgetting all his rights. Having been robbed blind once by the Russian Bolsheviks, Nabokov and his estate were robbed again, by Russian publishers whose rights were established unilaterally, and whose only license was "perestroika," to the tune not of a thousand dollars but of millions. Much of that income could have served nobler ends. Incidentally, proceeds from sales of licensed Nabokov works in Russia are donated to the Nabokov Museum, an impoverished Russian institution run by people on meager salaries and by volunteers, and enjoying no government support.
Cordially,
DN