Describing IPH (a lay Institute of Preparation for the Hereafter) in Canto Three of his poem, John Shade (the poet in VN's novel Pale Fire, 1962) mentions the great Starover Blue who reviewed the role planets had played as landfalls of the soul:
We heard cremationists guffaw and snort
At Grabermann's denouncing the Retort
As detrimental to the birth of wraiths.
We all avoided criticizing faiths.
The great Starover Blue reviewed the role
Planets had played as landfalls of the soul.
The fate of beasts was pondered. A Chinese
Discanted on the etiquette at teas
With ancestors, and how far up to go.
I tore apart the fantasies of Poe,
And dealt with childhood memories of strange
Nacreous gleams beyond the adults' range. (ll. 623-634)
In Canto Three of his poem Shade tells about his heart attack and mentions Mars:
It was a year of Tempests: Hurricane
Lolita swept from Florida to Maine.
Mars glowed. Shahs married. Gloomy Russians spied.
Lang made your portrait. And one night I died. (ll. 679-682)
According to Kinbote, in the reign of Charles the Beloved Mars never marred the record:
That King's reign (1936-1958) will be remembered by at least a few discerning historians as a peaceful and elegant one. Owing to a fluid system of judicious alliances, Mars in his time never marred the record. Internally, until corruption, betrayal, and Extremism penetrated it, the People's Place (parliament) worked in perfect harmony with the Royal Council. Harmony, indeed, was the reign's password. The polite arts and pure sciences flourished. Technicology, applied physics, industrial chemistry and so forth were suffered to thrive. A small skyscraper of ultramarine glass was steadily rising in Onhava. The climate seemed to be improving. Taxation had become a thing of beauty. The poor were getting a little richer, and the rich a little poorer (in accordance with what may be known some day as Kinbote's Law). Medical care was spreading to the confines of the state: less and less often, on his tour of the country, every autumn, when the rowans hung coral-heavy, and the puddles tinkled with Muscovy glass, the friendly and eloquent monarch would be interrupted by a pertussal "back-draucht" in a crowd of schoolchildren. Parachuting had become a popular sport. Everybody, in a word, was content - even the political mischiefmakers who were contentedly making mischief paid by a contented Sosed (Zembla's gigantic neighbor). But let us not pursue this tiresome subject. (note to Line 12)
By "a year of Tempests" Shade means 1958 (Shade's heart attack that practically coincided with the disguised king's arrival in America took place on October 17, 1958). VN's novel Lolita (1955) was published in the USA in 1958. The number 342 that reappears in Lolita three times (342 Lawn Street is the address of the Haze house in Ramsdale; 342 is Humbert's and Lolita's room in The Enchanted Hunters, a hotel in Briceland where Humbert and Lolita spend their first night together; between July 5 and November 18, 1949, Humbert registers, if not actually stays, at 342 hotels, motels and tourist homes) seems to hint at Earth, Mars and Venus (the third, the fourth, and the second planets of the Solar System). In Chapter Ten (XV: 1) of Eugene Onegin Pushkin calls Mikhail Lunin (a Decembrist, 1787-1845) drug Marsa, Vakkha i Venery (a friend of Mars, Bacchus and Venus):
Друг Марса, Вакха и Венеры,
Тут Лунин дерзко предлагал
Свои решительные меры
И вдохновенно бормотал.
Читал свои Ноэли Пушкин,
Меланхолический Якушкин,
Казалось, молча обнажал
Цареубийственный кинжал.
Одну Россию в мире видя,
Преследуя свой идеал,
Хромой Тургенев им внимал
И, слово рабство ненавидя,
Предвидел в сей толпе дворян
Освободителей крестьян.
A friend of Mars, Bacchus and Venus,
here Lunin daringly suggested
his decisive measures
and muttered in a trance of inspiration;
Pushkin read his noels;
melancholy Yakushkin,
it seemed silently bared
a regicidal dagger;
seeing but Russia in the world,
in her caressing his ideal,
to them did lame Turgenev hearken
and the word slavery hating,
in this crowd of nobles foresaw
the liberators of the peasants.
The surname Lunin comes from luna (moon) or, perhaps, from lun' (a harrier, any of the several species of diurnal hawks) and differs only in one letter from Lenin. The number 342 (3-4-2) makes one think of Lenin's book Shag vperyod, dva shaga nazad: Krisis v nashey partii ("One Step Forward, Two Steps Back: A Crisis in Our Party," 1904). Gradus (the name of Shade's murderer) means in Latin step (an ancient Roman unit of length). According to Shade, IPH could at least compete with churches and the party line:
Among our auditors were a young priest
And an old Communist. Iph could at least
Compete with churches and the party line.
In later years it started to decline:
Buddhism took root. A medium smuggled in
Pale jellies and a floating mandolin.
Fra Karamazov, mumbling his inept
All is allowed, into some classes crept;
And to fulfill the fish wish of the womb,
A school of Freudians headed for the tomb. (ll. 635-644)
Tsareubiystvennyi kinzhal (a regicidal dagger) that melancholy Yakushkin (Ivan Yakushkin, a Decembrist, 1793-1857) silently bared in the above-quoted stanza of EO brings to mind a bare bodkin mentioned by Hamlet in his famous monologue in Shakespeare's play. In his Index to Shade's poem Kinbote (whose name means in Zemblan "a regicide") mentions botkin or bodkin, a Danish stiletto:
Botkin, V., American scholar of Russian descent, 894; kingbot, maggot of extinct fly that once bred in mammoths and is thought to have hastened their phylogenetic end, 247; bottekin-maker, 71; bot, plop, and boteliy, big-bellied (Russ.); botkin or bodkin, a Danish stiletto.
The three main characters in Pale Fire, the poet Shade, his commentator Kinbote and his murderer Gradus, seem to represent three different aspects of one and the same person whose "real" name is Botkin. An American scholar of Russian descent, Professor Vsevolod Botkin went mad and became Shade, Kinbote and Gradus after the tragic death of his daughter Nadezhda (Hazel Shade’s "real" name). Nadezhda means "hope." There is a hope that, when Kinbote completes his work on Shade’s poem and commits suicide (on Oct. 19, 1959, the anniversary of Pushkin’s Lyceum), Botkin, like Count Vorontsov (a target of Pushkin’s epigrams, “half-milord, half-merchant, etc.”), will be full again.
Shade's murderer, Gradus is a member of the Shadows (a regicidal organization). Russia in the Shadows (1921) is a series of articles written by H. G. Wells after his visit to the Soviet Russia and meeting with Lenin at the Kremlin in the fall 1920. In Wells's novel The War of the Worlds (1897) Earth is invaded by Martians. Describing the torments of poor mad Aqua (in VN's novel Ada, 1969, the twin sister of Van's, Ada's and Lucette's mother Marina), Van Veen mentions Aqua's War of the Worlds:
Actually, Aqua was less pretty, and far more dotty, than Marina. During her fourteen years of miserable marriage she spent a broken series of steadily increasing sojourns in sanatoriums. A small map of the European part of the British Commonwealth — say, from Scoto-Scandinavia to the Riviera, Altar and Palermontovia — as well as most of the U.S.A., from Estoty and Canady to Argentina, might be quite thickly prickled with enameled red-cross-flag pins, marking, in her War of the Worlds, Aqua’s bivouacs. She had plans at one time to seek a modicum of health (‘just a little grayishness, please, instead of the solid black’) in such Anglo-American protectorates as the Balkans and Indias, and might even have tried the two Southern Continents that thrive under our joint dominion. Of course, Tartary, an independent inferno, which at the time spread from the Baltic and Black seas to the Pacific Ocean, was touristically unavailable, though Yalta and Altyn Tagh sounded strangely attractive... But her real destination was Terra the Fair and thither she trusted she would fly on libellula long wings when she died. Her poor little letters from the homes of madness to her husband were sometimes signed: Madame Shchemyashchikh-Zvukov (‘Heart rending-Sounds’). (1.3)
Describing IPH, Shade mentions Terra the Fair, an orbicle of jasp:
While snubbing gods, including the big G,
Iph borrowed some peripheral debris
From mystic visions; and it offered tips
(The amber spectacles for life's eclipse) -
How not to panic when you're made a ghost:
Sidle and slide, choose a smooth surd, and coast,
Meet solid bodies and glissade right through,
Or let a person circulate through you.
How to locate in blackness, with a gasp,
Terra the Fair, an orbicle of jasp.
How to keep sane in spiral types of space.
Precautions to be taken in the case
Of freak reincarnation: what to do
On suddenly discovering that you
Are now a young and vulnerable toad
Plump in the middle of a busy road,
Or a bear cub beneath a burning pine,
Or a book mite in a revived divine. (ll. 549-566)
On Demonia (aka Antiterra, Earth's twin planet on which Ada is set) Canada is known as Canady. After her husband's death Sybil Shade moves to Canada:
Frank has acknowledged the safe return of the galleys I had been sent here and has asked me to mention in my Preface - and this I willingly do - that I alone am responsible for any mistakes in my commentary. Insert before a professional. A professional proofreader has carefully rechecked the printed text of the poem against the phototype of the manuscript, and has found a few trivial misprints I had missed; that has been all in the way of outside assistance. Needless to say how much I had been looking forward to Sybil Shade's providing me with abundant biographical data; unfortunately she left New Wye even before I did, and is dwelling now with relatives in Quebec. We might have had, of course, a most fruitful correspondence, but the Shadeans were not to be shaken off. They headed for Canada in droves to pounce on the poor lady as soon as I had lost contact with her and her changeful moods. Instead of answering a month-old letter from my cave in Cedarn, listing some of my most desperate queries, such as the real name of "Jim Coates" etc., she suddenly shot me a wire, requesting me to accept Prof. H. (!) and Prof. C (!!) as coeditors of her husband's poem. How deeply this surprised and pained me! Naturally, it precluded collaboration with my friend's misguided widow. (Foreword)
It seems that Kinbote writes his Commentary, Index and Foreword (in that order) to Shade's poem not in "Cedarn, Utana," but in a madhouse near Quebec (in the same sanatorium where Humbert writes his poem "Wanted" in Lolita).
In his postscript to Lolita, “On a Book Entitled Lolita” (1956), VN says that he nearly burnt his novel:
The book developed slowly, with many interruptions and asides. It had taken me some forty years to invent Russia and Western Europe, and now I was faced by the task of inventing America. The obtaining of such local ingredients as would allow me to inject a modicum of average “reality” (one of the few words which mean nothing without quotes) into the brew of individual fancy, proved at fifty a much more difficult process than it had been in the Europe of my youth when receptiveness and retention were at their automatic best. Other books intervened. Once or twice I was on the point of burning the unfinished draft and had carried my Juanita Dark as far as the shadow of the leaning incinerator on the innocent lawn, when I was stopped by the thought that the ghost of the destroyed book would haunt my files for the rest of my life.
In his Foreword to Shade's poem Kinbote describes Shade destroying his drafts and mentions the wind-borne black butterflies of that backyard auto-da-fé:
This batch of eighty cards was held by a rubber band which I now religiously put back after examining for the last time their precious contents. Another, much thinner, set of a dozen cards, clipped together and enclosed in the same manila envelope as the main batch, bears some additional couplets running their brief and sometimes smudgy course among a chaos of first drafts. As a rule, Shade destroyed drafts the moment he ceased to need them: well do I recall seeing him from my porch, on a brilliant morning, burning a whole stack of them in the pale fire of the incinerator before which he stood with bent head like an official mourner among the wind-borne black butterflies of that backyard auto-da-fé. But he saved those twelve cards because of the unused felicities shining among the dross of used draftings. Perhaps, he vaguely expected to replace certain passages in the Fair Copy with some of the lovely rejections in his files, or, more probably, a sneaking fondness for this or that vignette, suppressed out of architectonic considerations, or because it had annoyed Mrs. S., urged him to put off its disposal till the time when the marble finality of an immaculate typescript would have confirmed it or made the most delightful variant seem cumbersome and impure. And perhaps, let me add in all modesty, he intended to ask my advice after reading his poem to me as I know he planned to do.
In the first stanza of his poem Moy al’bom, gde strast’ skvozit bez mery… (“My album where excessive passion shows through,” 1918) Gumilyov says that his album was saved from auto-da-fé by a wondrous protection of Venus:
Мой альбом, где страсть сквозит без меры
В каждой мной отточенной строфе,
Дивным покровительством Венеры
Спасся он от ауто-да-фэ.
The Roman Goddess of love, Venus is also a planet. In “a dazzling synthesis of sun and star” (as in line 184 of his poem Shade calls the little scissors with which he pares his fingernails) star seems to be the planet Venus (the shy star of love eclipsed by the sun of marriage). Na dalyokoy zvezde Venere (“On the distant star Venus,” 1921) is one of Gumilyov’s last poems. In his poem Zabludivshiysya tramvay (“The Lost Tram,” 1921) Gumilyov mentions lyudi i teni (people and shades) who stand at the entrance to a zoological garden of planets:
Понял теперь я: наша свобода
Только оттуда бьющий свет,
Люди и тени стоят у входа
В зоологический сад планет.
Now I understand: our freedom
Is only a light from the other world,
People and shades stand at the entrance
To a zoological garden of planets.
Zoologicheskiy sad planet (a zoological garden of planets) makes one think of the fate of beasts that was pondered at IPH. In another stanza of “The Lost Tram” Gumilyov mentions the poor old man who had died in Beirut a year ago:
И, промелькнув у оконной рамы,
Бросил нам вслед пытливый взгляд
Нищий старик, - конечно, тот самый,
Что умер в Бейруте год назад.
And slipping by the window frame,
A poor old man threw us an inquisitive glance -
The very same old man, of course,
Who had died in Beirut a year ago.
In Canto Four of his poem Shade describes shaving and mentions Beirut:
And while the safety blade with scrap and screak
Travels across the country of my cheek,
Cars on the highway pass, and up the steep
Incline big trucks around my jawbone creep,
And now a silent liner docks, and now
Sunglassers tour Beirut, and now I plough
Old Zembla's fields where my gray stubble grows,
And slaves make hay between my mouth and nose. (ll. 931-938)
Describing his favorite photograph of Shade, Kinbote mentions his sunglasses:
I have one favorite photograph of him. In this color snapshot taken by a onetime friend of mine, on a brilliant spring day, Shade is seen leaning on a sturdy cane that had belonged to his aunt Maud (see line 86). I am wearing a white windbreaker acquired in a local sports shop and a pair of lilac slacks hailing from Cannes. My left hand is half raised--not to pat Shade on the shoulder as seems to be the intention, but to remove my sunglasses which, however, it never reached in that life, the life of the picture; and the library book under my right arm is a treatise on certain Zemblan calisthenics in which I proposed to interest that young roomer of mine who snapped the picture. A week later he was to betray my trust by taking sordid advantage of my absence on a trip to Washington whence I returned to find that he had been entertaining a fiery-haired whore from Exton who had left her combings and reek in all three bathrooms. Naturally, we separated at once, and through a chink in the window curtains I saw bad Bob standing rather pathetically, with his crewcut, and shabby valise, and the skis I had given him, all forlorn on the roadside, waiting for a fellow student to drive him away forever. I can forgive everything save treason. (Foreword)
Kinbote's sunglasses bring to mind "the amber spectacles for life's eclipse" mentioned by Shade when he describes IPH.