'After a year or so she [Ada] found out that an old pederast kept him and she dismissed him, and he shot himself on a beach at high tide but surfers and surgeons saved him, and now his brain is damaged; he will never be able to speak.'

'One can always fall back on mutes,' said Van gloomily. 'He could act the speechless eunuch in "Stambul, my bulbul" or the stable boy disguised as a kennel girl who brings a letter.' (2.5)

 

The main character of Turgenev¡¯s story Mumu (1854) is the deaf and mute serf Gerasim who is forced to drown his beloved dog Mumu. In Ilf and Petrov¡¯s novel Dvenadtsat¡¯ stuliev (¡°The Twelve Chairs,¡± 1928) ¡°Gerasim and Mumu¡± is a newspaper to which the poet Nikifor Lyapis-Trubetskoy (¡°Lapsus¡±) contributes his verses:

 

¡ª §¯§Ú§Ü§à§Ô§Õ§Ñ §ñ §ï§ä§à§Ô§à §ß§Ö §Ô§à§Ó§à§â§Ú§Ý! ¡ª §Ù§Ñ§Ü§â§Ú§é§Ñ§Ý §´§â§å§Ò§Ö§è§Ü§à§Û.

¡ª §£§í §ß§Ö §Ô§à§Ó§à§â§Ú§Ý§Ú. §£§í §á§Ú§ã§Ñ§Ý§Ú. §®§ß§Ö §¯§Ñ§á§Ö§â§ß§Ú§Ü§à§Ó §Ô§à§Ó§à§â§Ú§Ý, §é§ä§à §Ó§í §á§í§ä§Ñ§Ý§Ú§ã§î §Ó§ã§å§é§Ú§ä§î §Ö§Þ§å §ä§Ñ§Ü§Ú§Ö §ã§ä§Ú§ê§Ñ§ä§Ñ §Ó «§¤§Ö§â§Ñ§ã§Ú§Þ §Ú §®§å§Þ§å», §ñ§Ü§à§Ò§í §Ú§Ù §Ò§í§ä§Ñ §à§ç§à§ä§ß§Ú§Ü§à§Ó. §³§Ü§Ñ§Ø§Ú§ä§Ö §á§à §ã§à§Ó§Ö§ã§ä§Ú, §­§ñ§á§ã§å§ã, §á§à§é§Ö§Þ§å §Ó§í §á§Ú§ê§Ö§ä§Ö §à §ä§à§Þ, §é§Ö§Ô§à §Ó§í §Ó §Ø§Ú§Ù§ß§Ú §ß§Ö §Ó§Ú§Õ§Ö§Ý§Ú §Ú §à §é§×§Þ §ß§Ö §Ú§Þ§Ö§Ö§ä§Ö §ß§Ú §Þ§Ñ§Ý§Ö§Û§ê§Ö§Ô§à §á§â§Ö§Õ§ã§ä§Ñ§Ó§Ý§Ö§ß§Ú§ñ? §±§à§é§Ö§Þ§å §å §Ó§Ñ§ã §Ó §ã§ä§Ú§ç§à§ä§Ó§à§â§Ö§ß§Ú§Ú «§¬§Ñ§ß§ä§à§ß» §á§Ö§ß§î§ð§Ñ§â ¡ª §ï§ä§à §Ò§Ñ§Ý§î§ß§à§Ö §á§Ý§Ñ§ä§î§Ö? §±§à§é§Ö§Þ§å?!

 

"I never said that," cried Trubetskoy.

"You didn't say it, you wrote it. Napernikov told me you tried to palm off some doggerel on ¡°Gerasim and Mumu,¡± supposed to be about the everyday life of hunters. Honestly, Lyapis, why do you write about things you've never seen and haven't the first idea about? Why is the peignoir in your poem 'Canton' an evening dress? Why?" (Chapter XXIX ¡°The Author of The Gavriliad¡±)

 

In his farewell letter to Marina (Van¡¯s, Ada¡¯s and Lucette¡¯s mother) Demon Veen (Van¡¯s and Ada¡¯s father) mentioned Marina¡¯s penyuar (peignoir):

 

Early one February morning (around noon chez vous) I rang you up at your hotel from a roadside booth of pure crystal still tear-stained after a tremendous thunderstorm to ask you to fly over at once, because I, Demon, rattling my crumpled wings and cursing the automatic dorophone, could not live without you and because I wished you to see, with me holding you, the daze of desert flowers that the rain had brought out. Your voice was remote but sweet; you said you were in Eve's state, hold the line, let me put on a penyuar. Instead, blocking my ear, you spoke, I suppose, to the man with whom you had spent the night (and whom I would have dispatched, had I not been overeager to castrate him). (1.2)

 

The name (Baron d¡¯Onsky) and nickname (Skonky, anagram of konskiy, ¡°of a horse¡±) of Marina¡¯s lover whom Demon was eager to castrate hint at Onegin¡¯s Don stallion in Pushkin¡¯s Eugene Onegin (Two: V: 4). One of the seconds in Demon¡¯s sword duel with d¡¯Onsky is Colonel St Alin, a scoundrel (1.2). His name clearly hints at Stalin, the Soviet leader who died in 1953. In 1953 ¡°The Memoirs¡± of Prince Felix Yusupov (a descendant of Tartar princes) appeared in Paris. Felix Yusupov¡¯s full name was Prince Felix Yusupov Count Sumarokov-Elston. In ¡°The Twelve Chairs¡± the reporter Persitski suggests that Lyapis-Trubetskoy should change his penname to Sumarokov-Elston:

 

§¥§Ñ, §Ü§ã§ä§Ñ§ä§Ú. §­§ñ§á§ã§å§ã, §á§à§é§Ö§Þ§å §Ó§í §´§â§å§Ò§Ö§è§Ü§à§Û? §±§à§é§Ö§Þ§å §Ó§Ñ§Þ §ß§Ö §Ó§Ù§ñ§ä§î §á§ã§Ö§Ó§Õ§à§ß§Ú§Þ §Ö§ë§× §á§à§Ý§å§é§ê§Ö? §¯§Ñ§á§â§Ú§Þ§Ö§â, §¥§à§Ý§Ô§à§â§å§Ü§Ú§Û! §¯§Ú§Ü§Ú§æ§à§â §¥§à§Ý§Ô§à§â§å§Ü§Ú§Û! §ª§Ý§Ú §¯§Ú§Ü§Ú§æ§à§â §£§Ñ§Ý§å§Ñ? §ª§Ý§Ú §Ö§ë§× §Ý§å§é§ê§Ö: §Ô§â§Ñ§Ø§Õ§Ñ§ß§Ú§ß §¯§Ú§Ü§Ú§æ§à§â §³§å§Þ§Ñ§â§à§Ü§à§Ó-§¿§Ý§î§ã§ä§à§ß? §¦§ã§Ý§Ú §å §Ó§Ñ§ã §ã§Ý§å§é§Ú§ä§ã§ñ §ç§à§â§à§ê§Ñ§ñ §Ü§à§â§Þ§å§ê§Ü§Ñ, §ã§â§Ñ§Ù§å §ä§â§Ú §ã§ä§Ú§ê§Ü§Ñ §Ó «§¤§Ö§â§Þ§å§Þ§å», §ä§à §Ó§í§ç§à§Õ §Ú§Ù §á§à§Ý§à§Ø§Ö§ß§Ú§ñ §å §Ó§Ñ§ã §Ò§Ý§Ö§ã§ä§ñ§ë§Ú§Û. §°§Õ§Ú§ß §Ò§â§Ö§Õ §á§à§Õ§á§Ú§ã§í§Ó§Ñ§Ö§ä§ã§ñ §³§å§Þ§Ñ§â§à§Ü§à§Ó§í§Þ, §Õ§â§å§Ô§Ñ§ñ §Þ§Ñ§Ü§å§Ý§Ñ§ä§å§â§Ñ ¡ª §¿§Ý§î§ã§ä§à§ß§à§Þ, §Ñ §ä§â§Ö§ä§î§ñ ¡ª §À§ã§å§á§à§Ó§í§Þ¡­ §¿§ç §Ó§í, §ç§Ñ§Ý§ä§å§â§ë§Ú§Ü!..

 

¡°By the way, Lapsus, why are you called Trubetskoy? Why don't you choose a better name? Nikifor Dolgoruki. Or Nikifor Valois. Or, still better, Citizen Nikifor Sumarokov-Elston. If ever you manage to get some easy job, then you can write three lines for ¡°Germumu¡± right away and you have a marvelous way to save yourself. One piece of rubbish is signed Sumarokov, the second Elston, and the third Yusupov. God, you hack!" (Chapter XXIX)

 

The name Persitski brings to mind Persy de Prey, Ada¡¯s lover who goes the war and perishes in the Crimea (it is an old Tartar who shoots Percy dead). Before the departure, Persy sends Van a letter with a messenger who looks like a kennel girl or a stable boy:

 

His valet advanced toward him across the lawn, followed by a messenger, a slender youth clad in black leather from neck to ankle, chestnut curls escaping from under a vizored cap. The strange child glanced around with an amateur thespian's exaggeration of attitude, and handed a letter, marked 'confidential,' to Van.

 

Dear Veen,

In a couple of days I must leave for a spell of military service abroad. If you desire to see me before I go I shall be glad to entertain you (and any other gentleman you might wish to bring along) at dawn tomorrow where the Maidenhair road crosses Tourbi¨¨re Lane. If not, I beg you to confirm in a brief note that you bear me no grudge, just as no grudge is cherished in regard to you, sir, by your obedient servant

Percy de Prey

 

No, Van did not desire to see the Count. He said so to the pretty messenger, who stood with one hand on the hip and one knee turned out like an extra, waiting for the signal to join the gambaders in the country dance after Calabro's aria.

'Un moment,' added Van. 'I would be interested to know - this could be decided in a jiffy behind that tree - what you are, stable boy or kennel girl?'

The messenger did not reply and was led away by the chuckling Bout. A little squeal suggestive of an improper pinch came from behind the laurels screening their exit. (1.40)

 

The old pederast who kept poor Starling (Ada¡¯s lover who shot himself on a beach) is Dangleleaf, a fat ballet master:

'Yes,' she said, 'he was quite a lovely lad and I sort of flirted with him, but the strain and the split were too much for him - he had been, since pubescence, the puerulus of a fat ballet master, Dangleleaf, and he finally committed suicide. You see ("the blush now replaced by a matovaya pallor") I'm not hiding one stain of what rhymes with Perm.' (2.9)

 

The name Dangleleaf hints at Dyagilev, a ballet impresario (1872-1929) whom Felix Yusupov mentions in his Memoirs:

 

§±§Ö§â§Ó§í§Þ §à§ä§Ü§â§í§Ý §¦§Ó§â§à§á§Ö §â§å§ã§ã§Ü§à§Ö §Ú§ã§Ü§å§ã§ã§ä§Ó§à §³§Ö§â§Ô§Ö§Û §¥§ñ§Ô§Ú§Ý§Ö§Ó, §Ú §Ò§Ý§Ñ§Ô§à§Õ§Ñ§â§ñ §Ö§Þ§å §ß§Ñ§ê§Ú §à§á§Ö§â§Ñ §Ú §Ò§Ñ§Ý§Ö§ä §á§â§à§ã§Ý§Ñ§Ó§Ú§Ý§Ú§ã§î §Ó§à §Ó§ã§Ö§Þ §Þ§Ú§â§Ö. §¯§Ö§Ù§Ñ§Ò§í§Ó§Ñ§Ö§Þ§í §Ú§ç §á§Ö§â§Ó§í§Ö §Ó§í§ã§ä§å§á§Ý§Ö§ß§Ú§ñ §Ó §á§Ñ§â§Ú§Ø§ã§Ü§à§Þ §º§Ñ§ä§Ý§Ö §Ó 1909 §Ô§à§Õ§å. §¥§ñ§Ô§Ú§Ý§Ö§Ó§å §å§Õ§Ñ§Ý§à§ã§î §ã§à§Ò§â§Ñ§ä§î §Ý§å§é§ê§Ú§ç §Ñ§â§ä§Ú§ã§ä§à§Ó: §Ò§í§Ý §ä§å§ä §º§Ñ§Ý§ñ§á§Ú§ß ¨C §ß§Ö§Ù§Ñ§Ò§Ó§Ö§ß§ß§í§Û §¤§à§Õ§å§ß§à§Ó, §ç§å§Õ§à§Ø§ß§Ú§Ü§Ú §¢§Ñ§Ü§ã§ä §Ú §¢§Ö§ß§å§Ñ, §ä§Ñ§ß§è§à§Ó§ë§Ú§Ü §¯§Ú§Ø§Ú§ß§ã§Ü§Ú§Û, §Ò§Ñ§Ý§Ö§â§Ú§ß§í §±§Ñ§Ó§Ý§à§Ó§Ñ §Ú §¬§Ñ§â§ã§Ñ§Ó§Ú§ß§Ñ, §Ú §Þ§ß§à§Ô§Ú§Ö, §Þ§ß§à§Ô§Ú§Ö! (chapter 7)

 

In the same chapter of his ¡°Memoirs¡± Yusupov describes his supper at Medved¡¯ (The Bear). Aged twelve or thirteen Felix Yusupov and his cousin Volodya Lazarev came to St Petersburg¡¯s most fashionable restaurant dressed as pretty girls:

 

§¢§í§Ý§à §ß§Ñ§Þ §Ý§Ö§ä §Õ§Ó§Ö§ß§Ñ§Õ§è§Ñ§ä§î-§ä§â§Ú§ß§Ñ§Õ§è§Ñ§ä§î. §¬§Ñ§Ü-§ä§à §Ó§Ö§é§Ö§â§à§Þ, §Ü§à§Ô§Õ§Ñ §à§ä§è§Ñ §ã §Þ§Ñ§ä§Ö§â§î§ð §ß§Ö §Ò§í§Ý§à, §â§Ö§ê§Ú§Ý§Ú §Þ§í §á§â§à§Ô§å§Ý§ñ§ä§î§ã§ñ, §á§Ö§â§Ö§à§Õ§Ö§Ó§ê§Ú§ã§î §Ó §Ø§Ö§ß§ã§Ü§à§Ö §á§Ý§Ñ§ä§î§Ö. §£ §Þ§Ñ§ä§å§ê§Ü§Ú§ß§à§Þ §ê§Ü§Ñ§æ§å §ß§Ñ§ê§Ý§Ú §Þ§í §Ó§ã§Ö §ß§Ö§à§Ò§ç§à§Õ§Ú§Þ§à§Ö. §®§í §â§Ñ§Ù§â§ñ§Õ§Ú§Ý§Ú§ã§î, §ß§Ñ§â§å§Þ§ñ§ß§Ú§Ý§Ú§ã§î, §ß§Ñ§è§Ö§á§Ú§Ý§Ú §å§Ü§â§Ñ§ê§Ö§ß§î§ñ, §Ù§Ñ§Ü§å§ä§Ñ§Ý§Ú§ã§î §Ó §Ò§Ñ§â§ç§Ñ§ä§ß§í§Ö §ê§å§Ò§í, §ß§Ñ§Þ §ß§Ö §á§à §â§à§ã§ä§å, §ã§à§ê§Ý§Ú §á§à §Õ§Ñ§Ý§î§ß§Ö§Û §Ý§Ö§ã§ä§ß§Ú§è§Ö §Ú, §â§Ñ§Ù§Ò§å§Õ§Ú§Ó §Þ§Ñ§ä§å§ê§Ü§Ú§ß§à§Ô§à §á§Ñ§â§Ú§Ü§Þ§Ñ§ç§Ö§â§Ñ, §á§à§ä§â§Ö§Ò§à§Ó§Ñ§Ý§Ú §á§Ñ§â§Ú§Ü§Ú, §Õ§Ö§ã§Ü§Ñ§ä§î, §Õ§Ý§ñ §Þ§Ñ§ã§Ü§Ñ§â§Ñ§Õ§Ñ.

§£ §ä§Ñ§Ü§à§Þ §Ó§Ú§Õ§Ö §Ó§í§ê§Ý§Ú §Þ§í §Ó §Ô§à§â§à§Õ. §¯§Ñ §¯§Ö§Ó§ã§Ü§à§Þ, §á§â§Ú§ã§ä§Ñ§ß§Ú§ë§Ö §á§â§à§ã§ä§Ú§ä§å§ä§à§Ü, §ß§Ñ§ã §ä§à§ä§é§Ñ§ã §Ù§Ñ§Þ§Ö§ä§Ú§Ý§Ú. §¹§ä§à§Ò §à§ä§Õ§Ö§Ý§Ñ§ä§î§ã§ñ §à§ä §Ü§Ñ§Ó§Ñ§Ý§Ö§â§à§Ó, §Þ§í §à§ä§Ó§Ö§é§Ñ§Ý§Ú §á§à-§æ§â§Ñ§ß§è§å§Ù§ã§Ü§Ú: «§®§í §Ù§Ñ§ß§ñ§ä§í» ¨C §Ú §Ó§Ñ§Ø§ß§à §ê§Ý§Ú §Õ§Ñ§Ý§î§ê§Ö. §°§ä§ã§ä§Ñ§Ý§Ú §à§ß§Ú, §Ü§à§Ô§Õ§Ñ §Þ§í §Ó§à§ê§Ý§Ú §Ó §ê§Ú§Ü§Ñ§â§ß§í§Û §â§Ö§ã§ä§à§â§Ñ§ß «§®§Ö§Õ§Ó§Ö§Õ§î». §±§â§ñ§Þ§à §Ó §ê§å§Ò§Ñ§ç §Þ§í §á§â§à§ê§Ý§Ú §Ó §Ù§Ñ§Ý, §ã§Ö§Ý§Ú §Ù§Ñ §ã§ä§à§Ý§Ú§Ü §Ú §Ù§Ñ§Ü§Ñ§Ù§Ñ§Ý§Ú §å§Ø§Ú§ß. §¢§í§Ý§à §Ø§Ñ§â§Ü§à, §Þ§í §Ù§Ñ§Õ§í§ç§Ñ§Ý§Ú§ã§î §Ó §ï§ä§Ú§ç §Ò§Ñ§â§ç§Ñ§ä§Ñ§ç. §¯§Ñ §ß§Ñ§ã §ã§Þ§à§ä§â§Ö§Ý§Ú §ã §Ý§ð§Ò§à§á§í§ä§ã§ä§Ó§à§Þ. §°§æ§Ú§è§Ö§â§í §á§â§Ú§ã§Ý§Ñ§Ý§Ú §Ù§Ñ§á§Ú§ã§Ü§å ¨C §á§â§Ú§Ô§Ý§Ñ§ê§Ñ§Ý§Ú §ß§Ñ§ã §á§à§å§Ø§Ú§ß§Ñ§ä§î §ã §ß§Ú§Þ§Ú §Ó §Ü§Ñ§Ò§Ú§ß§Ö§ä§Ö. §º§Ñ§Þ§á§Ñ§ß§ã§Ü§à§Ö §å§Õ§Ñ§â§Ú§Ý§à §Þ§ß§Ö §Ó §Ô§à§Ý§à§Ó§å. §Á §ã§ß§ñ§Ý §ã §ã§Ö§Ò§ñ §Ø§Ö§Þ§é§å§Ø§ß§í§Ö §Ò§å§ã§í §Ú §ã§ä§Ñ§Ý §Ù§Ñ§Ü§Ú§Õ§í§Ó§Ñ§ä§î §Ú§ç, §Ü§Ñ§Ü §Ñ§â§Ü§Ñ§ß, §ß§Ñ §Ô§à§Ý§à§Ó§í §ã§à§ã§Ö§Õ§Ö§Û. §¢§å§ã§í, §á§à§ß§ñ§ä§ß§à, §Ý§à§á§ß§å§Ý§Ú §Ú §â§Ñ§ã§Ü§Ñ§ä§Ú§Ý§Ú§ã§î §á§à §á§à§Ý§å §á§à§Õ §ç§à§ç§à§ä §á§å§Ò§Ý§Ú§Ü§Ú. §´§Ö§á§Ö§â§î §ß§Ñ §ß§Ñ§ã §ã§Þ§à§ä§â§Ö§Ý §Ó§Ö§ã§î §Ù§Ñ§Ý. §®§í §Ò§Ý§Ñ§Ô§à§â§Ñ§Ù§å§Þ§ß§à §â§Ö§ê§Ú§Ý§Ú §Õ§Ñ§ä§î §Õ§×§â§å, §á§à§Õ§à§Ò§â§Ñ§Ý§Ú §Ó§á§à§á§í§ç§Ñ§ç §Ø§Ö§Þ§é§å§Ô §Ú §ß§Ñ§á§â§Ñ§Ó§Ú§Ý§Ú§ã§î §Ü §Ó§í§ç§à§Õ§å, §ß§à §ß§Ñ§ã §ß§Ñ§Ô§ß§Ñ§Ý §Þ§Ö§ä§â§Õ§à§ä§Ö§Ý§î §ã§à §ã§é§×§ä§à§Þ. §¥§Ö§ß§Ö§Ô §å §ß§Ñ§ã §ß§Ö §Ò§í§Ý§à. §±§â§Ú§ê§Ý§à§ã§î §Ú§Õ§ä§Ú §à§Ò§ì§ñ§ã§ß§ñ§ä§î§ã§ñ §Ü §Õ§Ú§â§Ö§Ü§ä§à§â§å. §´§à§ä §à§Ü§Ñ§Ù§Ñ§Ý§ã§ñ §Þ§à§Ý§à§Õ§è§à§Þ. §±§à§ã§Þ§Ö§ñ§Ý§ã§ñ §ß§Ñ§ê§Ö§Û §Ó§í§Õ§å§Þ§Ü§Ö §Ú §Õ§Ñ§Ø§Ö §Õ§Ñ§Ý §Õ§Ö§ß§Ö§Ô §ß§Ñ §Ú§Ù§Ó§à§Ù§é§Ú§Ü§Ñ. §¬§à§Ô§Õ§Ñ §Þ§í §Ó§Ö§â§ß§å§Ý§Ú§ã§î §ß§Ñ §®§à§Û§Ü§å, §Ó§ã§Ö §Õ§Ó§Ö§â§Ú §Ó §Õ§à§Þ§Ö §Ò§í§Ý§Ú §Ù§Ñ§á§Ö§â§ä§í. §Á §á§à§Ü§â§Ú§é§Ñ§Ý §Ó §à§Ü§ß§à §ã§Ó§à§Ö§Þ§å §ã§Ý§å§Ô§Ö §ª§Ó§Ñ§ß§å. §´§à§ä §Ó§í§ê§Ö§Ý §Ú §ç§à§ç§à§ä§Ñ§Ý §Õ§à §ã§Ý§Ö§Ù, §å§Ó§Ú§Õ§Ñ§Ó §ß§Ñ§ã §Ó §ß§Ñ§ê§Ú§ç §Þ§Ñ§ß§ä§à. §¯§Ñ§å§ä§â§à §ã§ä§Ñ§Ý§à §ß§Ö §Õ§à §ã§Þ§Ö§ç§Ñ. §¥§Ú§â§Ö§Ü§ä§à§â «§®§Ö§Õ§Ó§Ö§Õ§ñ» §á§â§Ú§ã§Ý§Ñ§Ý §à§ä§è§å §à§ã§ä§Ñ§ä§à§Ü §Ø§Ö§Þ§é§å§Ô§Ñ, §ã§à§Ò§â§Ñ§ß§ß§à§Ô§à §ß§Ñ §á§à§Ý§å §Ó §â§Ö§ã§ä§à§â§Ñ§ß§Ö, §Ú¡­ §ã§é§×§ä §Ù§Ñ §å§Ø§Ú§ß! (ibid.)

 

In the Yakima stage version of Chekhov¡¯s play ¡°The Three Sisters¡± (known on Antiterra as Four Sisters) Ada played Irina and her lover played Skvortsov, a second in Tuzenbakh¡¯s pistol duel with Solyonyi:

 

Van glanced through the list of players and D.P.'s and noticed two amusing details: the role of Fedotik, an artillery officer (whose comedy organ consists of a constantly clicking camera)', had been assigned to a 'Kim (short for Yakim) Eskimossoff' and somebody called 'John Starling' had been cast as Skvortsov (a sekundant in the rather amateurish duel of the last act) whose name comes from skvorets, starling. (2.9)

 

The name Vorobyaninov (of one of the three diamond hunters in ¡°The Twelve Chairs¡±) comes from vorobey (sparrow), the name of Mme Petukhov (Vorobyaninov¡¯s mother-in-law who concealed her daughter¡¯s diamonds in the upholstering of a Hambs chair) comes from petukh (cock). According to Ostap Bender (the main character in ¡°The Twelve Chairs¡± and in its sequel novel, ¡°The Golden Calf,¡± 1931), his father was a Turkish subject. Stambul (cf. ¡°Stambul, my bulbul¡± mentioned by Van) is the Russian name of Istanbul, bulbul is Arabic for ¡°nightingale.¡±

 

Turgenev wrote Mumu while he was in custody for publishing his obituary of Gogol. Percy de Prey resembles Nozdryov (one of the landowners in Gogol¡¯s Dead Souls), but he is also linked to Akakiy Akakievich Bashmachkin, the pathetic main character in Gogol's story Shinel' (¡°The Overcoat,¡± 1842). Gogol¡¯s Akakiy is neskol'ko ryabovat, neskol'ko ryzhevat, neskol'ko na vid dazhe podslepovat, s nebol'shoy lysinoy na lbu (somewhat pock-marked, somewhat red-haired, even somewhat short-sighted in appearance, with a little bald spot on the forehead). Percy de Prey is described as ¡°a stoutish, foppish, baldish young man:¡±

 

Three young ladies in yellow-blue Vass frocks with fashionable rainbow sashes surrounded a stoutish, foppish, baldish young man who stood, a flute of champagne in his hand, glancing down from the drawing-room terrace at a girl in black with bare arms: an old runabout, shivering at every jerk, was being cranked up by a hoary chauffeur in front of the porch, and those bare arms, stretched wide, were holding outspread the white cape of Baroness von Skull, a grand-aunt of hers. (1.31)

 

¡°Yellow-blue Vass¡± is a play on ya lyublyu Vas (Russ., I love you). In Turgenev¡¯s Otsy i deti (¡°Fathers and Sons,¡± 1862) Bazarov tells Anna Sergeevna: ya lyublyu Vas glupo, bezumno (I love you like a fool, like a madman):

 

¡ª §ª §Ó§í §Ø§Ö§Ý§Ñ§Ý§Ú §Ò§í §Ù§ß§Ñ§ä§î §á§â§Ú§é§Ú§ß§å §ï§ä§à§Û §ã§Õ§Ö§â§Ø§Ñ§ß§ß§à§ã§ä§Ú, §Ó§í §Ø§Ö§Ý§Ñ§Ý§Ú §Ò§í §Ù§ß§Ñ§ä§î, §é§ä§à §Ó§à §Þ§ß§Ö §á§â§à§Ú§ã§ç§à§Õ§Ú§ä?

¡ª §¥§Ñ, ¡ª §á§à§Ó§ä§à§â§Ú§Ý§Ñ §°§Õ§Ú§ß§è§à§Ó§Ñ §ã §Ü§Ñ§Ü§Ú§Þ-§ä§à, §Ö§Û §Ö§ë§× §ß§Ö§á§à§ß§ñ§ä§ß§í§Þ, §Ú§ã§á§å§Ô§à§Þ.

¡ª §ª §Ó§í §ß§Ö §â§Ñ§ã§ã§Ö§â§Õ§Ú§ä§Ö§ã§î?

¡ª §¯§Ö§ä.

¡ª §¯§Ö§ä? ¡ª §¢§Ñ§Ù§Ñ§â§à§Ó §ã§ä§à§ñ§Ý §Ü §ß§Ö§Û §ã§á§Ú§ß§à§ð. ¡ª §´§Ñ§Ü §Ù§ß§Ñ§Û§ä§Ö §Ø§Ö, §é§ä§à §ñ §Ý§ð§Ò§Ý§ð §£§Ñ§ã, §Ô§Ý§å§á§à, §Ò§Ö§Ù§å§Þ§ß§à... §£§à§ä §é§Ö§Ô§à §Ó§í §Õ§à§Ò§Ú§Ý§Ú§ã§î.

 

"And would you like to know the reason for this reserve, would you like to know what is happening within me?"

"Yes," repeated Madame Odintsov, with a sort of dread which she did not quite understand.

"And you will not be angry?"

"No."

"No?" Bazarov was standing with his back to her. "Let me tell you then that I love you like a fool, like a madman . . . There, you've got that out of me." (chapter XVIII)

 

At the dinner in ¡®Ursus¡¯ (the best Franco-Estotian restaurant in Manhattan Major) Ada and Lucette wear evening gowns made by Vass:

 

Both young ladies wore the very short and open evening gowns that Vass 'miraged' that season - in the phrase of that season: Ada, a gauzy black, Lucette, a lustrous cantharid green. (2.8)

 

In his ¡°Memoirs¡± Felix Yusupov mentions Irfe, a fashion house that he and his wife Irina (born Romanov, the niece of the tsar Nicholas II) founded in Paris.

 

After the dinner in ¡®Ursus¡¯ followed by the debauche ¨¤ trois at Van¡¯s Manhattan apartment Ada calls Van ¡°that bretteur of mine:¡±

 

'Now let's go out for a breath of crisp air,' suggested Van. 'I'll order Pardus and Peg to be saddled.'

'Last night two men recognized me,' she said. 'Two separate Californians, but they didn't dare bow - with that silk-tuxedoed bretteur of mine glaring around. One was Anskar, the producer, and the other, with a cocotte, Paul Whinnier, one of your father's London pals. I sort of hoped we'd go back to bed.' (2.8)

 

Bretyor (¡°The Bretteur,¡± 1847) is a story by Turgenev. In Turgenev¡¯s story Konets Chertopkhanova (¡°The End of Chertophanov¡±) included in Zapiski okhotnika (¡°A Hunter¡¯s Notes,¡± 1851) the name of Chertophanov¡¯s beloved horse is Malek-Adel¡¯. The noble steed received its name after Malek-Adhel, the hero of Sophie Cottin¡¯s novel Mathilde (1805). Malek-Adhel is a Moslem general who in the days of the third Crusade falls in love with the sister King Richard Coeur de Lion. In EO (Three: IX: 8) Pushkin mentions Malek-Adhel:

 

§´§Ö§á§Ö§â§î §ã §Ü§Ñ§Ü§Ú§Þ §à§ß§Ñ §Ó§ß§Ú§Þ§Ñ§ß§î§Ö§Þ
§¹§Ú§ä§Ñ§Ö§ä §ã§Ý§Ñ§Õ§à§ã§ä§ß§í§Û §â§à§Þ§Ñ§ß,
§³ §Ü§Ñ§Ü§Ú§Þ §Ø§Ú§Ó§í§Þ §à§é§Ñ§â§à§Ó§Ñ§ß§î§Ö§Þ
§±§î§Ö§ä §à§Ò§à§Ý§î§ã§ä§Ú§ä§Ö§Ý§î§ß§í§Û §à§Ò§Þ§Ñ§ß!
§³§é§Ñ§ã§ä§Ý§Ú§Ó§à§Û §ã§Ú§Ý§à§ð §Þ§Ö§é§ä§Ñ§ß§î§ñ
§°§Õ§å§ê§Ö§Ó§Ý§Ö§ß§ß§í§Ö §ã§à§Ù§Õ§Ñ§ß§î§ñ,
§­§ð§Ò§à§Ó§ß§Ú§Ü §À§Ý§Ú§Ú §£§à§Ý§î§Þ§Ñ§â,
§®§Ñ§Ý§Ö§Ü-§¡§Õ§Ö§Ý§î §Ú §Õ§Ö §­§Ú§ß§Ñ§â,
§ª §£§Ö§â§ä§Ö§â, §Þ§å§é§Ö§ß§Ú§Ü §Þ§ñ§ä§Ö§Ø§ß§í§Û,
§ª §Ò§Ö§ã§á§à§Õ§à§Ò§ß§í§Û §¤§â§Ñ§ß§Õ§Ú§ã§à§ß,
§¬§à§ä§à§â§í§Û §ß§Ñ§Þ §ß§Ñ§Ó§à§Õ§Ú§ä §ã§à§ß, ¡ª
§£§ã§Ö §Õ§Ý§ñ §Þ§Ö§é§ä§Ñ§ä§Ö§Ý§î§ß§Ú§è§í §ß§Ö§Ø§ß§à§Û
§£ §Ö§Õ§Ú§ß§í§Û §à§Ò§â§Ñ§Ù §à§Ò§Ý§Ö§Ü§Ý§Ú§ã§î,
§£ §à§Õ§ß§à§Þ §°§ß§Ö§Ô§Ú§ß§Ö §ã§Ý§Ú§Ý§Ú§ã§î.

 

With what attention she now

reads a delicious novel,

with what vivid enchantment

drinks the seductive fiction!

By the happy power of reverie

animated creation,

the lover of Julie Wolmar,

Malek-Adhel, and de Linar,

and Werther, restless martyr,

and the inimitable Grandison,

who brings upon us somnolence ¨C

all for the tender dreamer

have been invested with a single image,

have in Onegin merged alone.


Describing the dinner in ¡°Ardis the Second,¡± Van quotes an unfinished canto of Pushkin¡¯s EO and Richard Leonard Churchill¡¯s novel about a certain Crimean Khan:

 

It almost awed one to see the pleasure with which she and Demon distorted their shiny-lipped mouths in exactly the same way to introduce orally from some heavenly height the voluptuous ally of the prim lily of the valley, holding the shaft with an identical bunching of the fingers, not unlike the reformed 'sign of the cross' for protesting against which (a ridiculous little schism measuring an inch or so from thumb to index) so many Russians had been burnt by other Russians only two centuries earlier on the banks of the Great Lake of Slaves. Van remembered that his tutor's great friend, the learned but prudish Semyon Afanasievich Vengerov, then a young associate professor but already a celebrated Pushkinist (1855-1954), used to say that the only vulgar passage in his author's work was the cannibal joy of young gourmets tearing 'plump and live' oysters out of their 'cloisters' in an unfinished canto of Eugene Onegin. But then 'everyone has his own taste,' as the British writer Richard Leonard Churchill mistranslates a trite French phrase (chacun ¨¤ son gout) twice in the course of his novel about a certain Crimean Khan once popular with reporters and politicians, 'A Great Good Man' - according, of course, to the cattish and prejudiced Guillaume Monparnasse about whose new celebrity Ada, while dipping the reversed corolla of one hand in a bowl, was now telling Demon, who was performing the same rite in the same graceful fashion. (1.38)

 

Darkbloom (¡®Notes to Ada¡¯): Great good man: a phrase that Winston Churchill, the British politician, enthusiastically applied to Stalin.

 

Guillaume de Monparnasse (the penname of Mlle Larivi¨¨re) is a sensational Canadian bestselling author (1.31). Vass is a Canadian couturier:

 

A fourth maiden in the Canadian couturier's corn-and-bluet summer 'creation' stopped Van to inform him with a pretty pout that he did not remember her, which was true. 'I am exhausted,' he said. 'My horse caught a hoof in a hole in the rotting planks of Ladore Bridge and had to be shot. I have walked eight miles. I think I am dreaming. I think you are Dreaming Too.' 'No, I'm Cordula!' she cried, but he was off again. (1.31)

 

It is from Cordula that Van learns about Percy de Prey¡¯s death in the Crimea (1.42). Count Percy de Prey is associated with "Malbrook" (John Churchill, 1st Duke of Marlborough, 1650-1722, British military commander):

 

Only the other day from behind that row of thick firs, look there, to your right (but he did not look - sitting silent, both hands on the knob of his cane), she [Blanche, a handmaid at Ardis] and her sister Madelon, with a bottle of wine between them, watched Monsieur le Comte courting the young lady on the moss, crushing her like a grunting bear as he also had crushed - many times! - Madelon who said she, Blanche, should warn him, Van, because she was a wee bit jealous but she also said - for she had a good heart - better put it off until 'Malbrook' s'en va t'en guerre, otherwise they would fight; he had been shooting a pistol at a scarecrow all morning and that's why she waited so long, and it was in Madelon's hand, not in hers. (1.41)

 

In Gogol's Myortvye dushi (¡°Dead Souls,¡± 1842) the song "Malbrough Went Off to War" is played by Nozdryov¡¯s barrel organ:

 

§£§ã§Ý§Ö§Õ §Ù§Ñ §ä§Ö§Þ §á§à§Ü§Ñ§Ù§Ñ§Ý§Ñ§ã§î §Ô§à§ã§ä§ñ§Þ §ê§Ñ§â§Þ§Ñ§ß§Ü§Ñ. §¯§à§Ù§Õ§â§Ö§Ó §ä§å§ä §Ø§Ö §á§â§à§Ó§Ö§â§ä§Ö§Ý §á§â§Ö§Õ §ß§Ú§Þ§Ú §Ü§à§Ö-§é§ä§à. §º§Ñ§â§Þ§Ñ§ß§Ü§Ñ §Ú§Ô§â§Ñ§Ý§Ñ §ß§Ö §Ò§Ö§Ù §á§â§Ú§ñ§ä§ß§à§ã§ä§Ú, §ß§à §Ó §ã§â§Ö§Õ§Ú§ß§Ö §Ö§×, §Ü§Ñ§Ø§Ö§ä§ã§ñ, §é§ä§à-§ä§à §ã§Ý§å§é§Ú§Ý§à§ã§î, §Ú§Ò§à §Þ§Ñ§Ù§å§â§Ü§Ñ §à§Ü§Ñ§ß§é§Ú§Ó§Ñ§Ý§Ñ§ã§î §á§Ö§ã§ß§Ö§ð: «§®§Ñ§Ý§î§Ò§â§å§Ô §Ó §á§à§ç§à§Õ §á§à§Ö§ç§Ñ§Ý», §Ñ «§®§Ñ§Ý§î§Ò§â§å§Ô §Ó §á§à§ç§à§Õ §á§à§Ö§ç§Ñ§Ý» §ß§Ö§à§Ø§Ú§Õ§Ñ§ß§ß§à §Ù§Ñ§Ó§Ö§â§ê§Ñ§Ý§ã§ñ §Ü§Ñ§Ü§Ú§Þ-§ä§à §Õ§Ñ§Ó§ß§à §Ù§ß§Ñ§Ü§à§Þ§í§Þ §Ó§Ñ§Ý§î§ã§à§Þ. §µ§Ø§Ö §¯§à§Ù§Õ§â§Ö§Ó §Õ§Ñ§Ó§ß§à §á§Ö§â§Ö§ã§ä§Ñ§Ý §Ó§Ö§â§ä§Ö§ä§î, §ß§à §Ó §ê§Ñ§â§Þ§Ñ§ß§Ü§Ö §Ò§í§Ý§Ñ §à§Õ§ß§Ñ §Õ§å§Õ§Ü§Ñ §à§é§Ö§ß§î §Ò§à§Û§Ü§Ñ§ñ, §ß§Ú§Ü§Ñ§Ü §ß§Ö §ç§à§ä§Ö§Ó§ê§Ñ§ñ §å§Ô§à§Þ§à§ß§Ú§ä§î§ã§ñ, §Ú §Õ§à§Ý§Ô§à §Ö§ë§× §á§à§ä§à§Þ §ã§Ó§Ú§ã§ä§Ö§Ý§Ñ §à§ß§Ñ §à§Õ§ß§Ñ. §±§à§ä§à§Þ §á§à§Ü§Ñ§Ù§Ñ§Ý§Ú§ã§î §ä§â§å§Ò§Ü§Ú ¡ª §Õ§Ö§â§Ö§Ó§ñ§ß§ß§í§Ö, §Ô§Ý§Ú§ß§ñ§ß§í§Ö, §á§Ö§ß§Ü§à§Ó§í§Ö, §à§Ò§Ü§å§â§Ö§ß§ß§í§Ö §Ú §ß§Ö§à§Ò§Ü§å§â§Ö§ß§ß§í§Ö, §à§Ò§ä§ñ§ß§å§ä§í§Ö §Ù§Ñ§Þ§ê§Ö§ð §Ú §ß§Ö§à§Ò§ä§ñ§ß§å§ä§í§Ö, §é§å§Ò§å§Ü §ã §ñ§ß§ä§Ñ§â§ß§í§Þ §Þ§å§ß§Õ§ê§ä§å§Ü§à§Þ, §ß§Ö§Õ§Ñ§Ó§ß§à §Ó§í§Ú§Ô§â§Ñ§ß§ß§í§Û, §Ü§Ú§ã§Ö§ä, §Ó§í§ê§Ú§ä§í§Û §Ü§Ñ§Ü§à§ð-§ä§à §Ô§â§Ñ§æ§Ú§ß§Ö§ð, §Ô§Õ§Ö-§ä§à §ß§Ñ §á§à§é§ä§à§Ó§à§Û §ã§ä§Ñ§ß§è§Ú§Ú §Ó§Ý§ð§Ò§Ú§Ó§ê§Ö§ð§ã§ñ §Ó §ß§Ö§Ô§à §á§à §å§ê§Ú, §å §Ü§à§ä§à§â§à§Û §â§å§é§Ü§Ú, §á§à §ã§Ý§à§Ó§Ñ§Þ §Ö§Ô§à, §Ò§í§Ý§Ú §ã§Ñ§Þ§à§Û §ã§å§Ò§Õ§Ú§ä§Ö§Ý§î§ß§à§Û §ã§ð§á§Ö§â§æ§Ý§ð, ¡ª §ã§Ý§à§Ó§à, §Ó§Ö§â§à§ñ§ä§ß§à §à§Ù§ß§Ñ§é§Ñ§Ó§ê§Ö§Ö §å §ß§Ö§Ô§à §Ó§í§ã§à§é§Ñ§Û§ê§å§ð §ä§à§é§Ü§å §ã§à§Ó§Ö§â§ê§Ö§ß§ã§ä§Ó§Ñ.

 

After that, a barrel organ appeared before the guests. Nozdryov straightaway ground something out for them. The barrel organ played not unpleasantly, but something seemed to have happened inside it, for the mazurka ended with the song "Malbrough Went Off to War," and "Malbrough Went Off to War" was unexpectedly concluded by some long-familiar waltz. Nozdryov had long stopped grinding, but there was one very perky reed in the organ that simply refused to quiet down, and for some time afterwards went on tooting all by itself. Then pipes appeared¡ªof wood, clay, meerschaum, broken in and un-broken-in, covered with chamois and not covered, a chibouk with an amber mouthpiece recently won at cards, a tobacco pouch embroidered by some countess who had fallen head over heels in love with him somewhere at a posting station, whose hands, according to him, were most subdiminally superflu¡ªa phrase that for him probably meant the peak of perfection. (chapter 4)

 

There is in Ardis a toy barrel organ that comes into action spontaneously:

 

Further down, a door of some playroom or nursery stood ajar and stirred to and fro as little Lucette peeped out, one russet knee showing. Then the doorleaf flew open - but she darted inside and away. Cobalt sailing boats adorned the white tiles of a stove, and as her sister and he passed by that open door a toy barrel organ invitingly went into action with a stumbling little minuet. (1.6)

 

In the same chapter of Ada Turgenev is mentioned:

 

On the other, or some other, side of the house was the ballroom, a glossy wasteland with wallflower chairs. 'Reader, ride by' ('mimo, chitatel',' as Turgenev wrote). The 'mews,' as they were improperly called in Ladore County, were architecturally rather confusing in the case of Ardis Hall. (ibid.)

 

The phrase mimo, chitatel¡¯, mimo occurs in chapter XIX of Turgenev¡¯s novel Dym (¡°Smoke,¡± 1866). According to Marina, at Van¡¯s age she would have poisoned her governess, if forbidden to read Turgenev's Smoke:

 

Puzzled Mlle Larivi¨¨re would have consulted the Master of Ardis, but she never discussed with him anything serious since the day (in January, 1876) when he had made an unexpected (and rather halfhearted, really - let us be fair) pass at her. As to dear, frivolous Marina, she only remarked, when consulted, that at Van's age she would have poisoned her governess with anti-roach borax if forbidden to read, for example, Turgenev's Smoke. (1.21)

 

Daniel Veen¡¯s daughter, Lucette was born on January 3, 1876 (1.1).

 

Alexey Sklyarenko

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