Vladimir Nabokov

NABOKV-L post 0024995, Sun, 12 Jan 2014 21:23:12 -0200

Re: [THOUGHTS] The sense of touch in novel and fiction: "a
good-bye to objects"

Jacqueline Hamrit: A fascinating analysis of the notion of "touching a distant object with one'eyes " appears in Jacques Derrida's book entitled in French _ Le toucher, Jean-Luc Nancy_ (Paris: Galilée, 2000) and translated into _On Touching_.*

Jansy Mello: Thank you for the invaluable indication of Derrida's "Le Toucher" related to touch a distant object with the eyes as in normal vision, so different from V.Nabokov's "magnotack" for the blind and the issue of "simulacra." or VN's sentiment about "we touch in silhouette."

Online resources, though, up to now, only gave me access to various pages of Jean-Luc Nancy's "Le Corps."
On a superficial examination I found a new link to the questions that are poetically raised by V.Nabokov, now examined from the "outside". It's related to the act of writing novels,** particularly by V.Nabokov's explicit avoidance of "creating a meaning" when it's bound by any socializing or educational intent. When V. Nabokov "makes sense" (I mean, his brand of writerly "touch"), this happens mainly in an imagetic (pictorial and musical) way. At least, that's what I can apprehend at this point. I wonder, though, if the ramifications that this external view opens would have interested him in his quests as a writer...

Thank you, again, for your help to indicate the way to the quote I couldn't locate.
* reply to JM's: "For example, should I conclude that vision allows one to touch a distant object with one's eyes (I couldn't find the original reference to this statement), my standpoint will not be related to any direct "sensuous" input (albeit it's dependent on the information obtained by my senses of vision and touch), it shall be cold and objective, related to the world of information and thought ( my arguments are highly disputable, but I'm awaiting a contestation here to proceed...).However, when I observe that "a tactile sensation is a blind spot" together with the recognition that now, although "nothing seemed changed in one sense, all was lost in another", I find myself tied to a subjective apprehension of something that is desired but impossible to reach in its totality: it is a permanent sign of some sort of loss and frustration...

** - An excerpt: "...writing takes its place at the limit. So if anything at all happens to writing, nothing happens to it but touch. More precisely: touching the body (or some singular body) with the incorporeality of "sense." And consequently, to make the incorporeal touching, to make of meaning a touch. [ ]Writing in its essence touches upon the body [ ]along the absolute limit separating the sense of the one from the skin and nerves of the other. Nothing gets through, which is why it touches."

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