Describing his desperate attempts to find Lolita's abductor, Humbert Humbert (the narrator and main character in VN's novel Lolita, 1955) mentions the spangled acrobat with classical grace meticulously walking his tight rope in the taclum light and the sagging rope expert wearing scarecrow clothes and impersonating a grotesque drunk:
I discovered at once that he had foreseen my investigations and had planted insulting pseudonyms for my special benefit. At the very first motel office I visited, Ponderosa Lodge, his entry, among a dozen obviously human ones, read: Dr. Gratiano Forbeson, Mirandola, NY. Its Italian Comedy connotations could not fail to strike me, of course. The landlady deigned to inform me that the gentleman had been laid up for five days with a bad cold, that he had left his car for repairs in some garage or other and that he had checked out on the 4th of July. Yes, a girl called Ann Lore had worked formerly at the Lodge, but was now married to a grocer in Cedar City. One moonlit night I waylaid white-shoed Mary on a solitary street; an automaton, she was about to shriek, but I managed to humanize her by the simple act of falling on my knees and with pious yelps imploring her to help. She did not know a thing, she swore. Who was this Gratiano Forbeson? She seemed to waver. I whipped out a hundred-dollar bill. She lifted it to the light of the moon. “He is your brother,” she whispered at last. I plucked the bill out of her moon-cold hand, and spitting out a French curse turned and ran away. This taught me to rely on myself alone. No detective could discover the clues Trapp had tuned to my mind and manner. I could not hope, of course, he would ever leave his correct name and address; but I did hope he might slip on the glaze of his own subtlety, by daring, say, to introduce a richer and more personal shot of color than strictly necessary, or by revealing too much through a qualitative sum of quantitative parts which revealed too little. In one thing he succeeded: he succeeded in thoroughly enmeshing me and my thrashing anguish in his demoniacal game. With infinite skill, he swayed and staggered, and regained an impossible balance, always leaving me with the sportive hope - if I may use such a term in speaking of betrayal, fury, desolation, horror and hate - that he might give himself away next time. He never did - though coming damn close to it. We all admire the spangled acrobat with classical grace meticulously walking his tight rope in the taclum light; but how much rarer art there is in the sagging rope expert wearing scarecrow clothes and impersonating a grotesque drunk! I should know. (2.23)
When Humbert finally tracks down Clare Quilty (a playwright and pornographer whom Humbert murders for abducting Lolita from the Elphinstone hospital), Quilty tells Humbert that he knows all the ropes:
“My dear sir,” he said, “stop trifling with life and death. I am a playwright. I have written tragedies, comedies, fantasies. I have made private movies out of Justine and other eighteenth-century sexcapades. I’m the author of fifty-two successful scenarios. I know all the ropes. Let me handle this. There should be a poker somewhere, why don’t I fetch it, and then we’ll fish out your property." (2.35)
"To know all the ropes" is an idiom meaning to be fully familiar with the details, procedures, and intricacies of a job, task, or situation, essentially being experienced and knowing how things work, originating from sailors learning the complex rigging on sailing ships. In his book Iz matrosskikh dosugov ("From a Sailor's Past-Time," 1843) Vladimir Dahl (the great Russian lexicographer who was a doctor and who was at Pushkin's deathbed on February 10, 1837) mentions Counter Admiral John Elphinstone (1722-85), a British senior naval officer who in the battle of Chesma (July 5-7, 1770) commanded the Russian rear guard. Lolita's best friend and confidant at Beardsley, Mona Dahl had had an affair with a marine at the seaside.
A poker mentioned by Quilty brings to mind an iron club that Pushkin carried in order to strengthen and steady his pistol hand in view of a duel he intended to have with Fyodor Tolstoy (Count Tolstoy the American) at the first opportunity. A bretteur who killed in duels eleven people, Tolstoy was nicknamed Amerikanets (the American), because as a young man he participated in Admiral Krusenstern's voyage around the world and was dumped for insubordination on Rat Island, in the Aleutians. Stern is German for "star," and star is rats in reverse. According to John Ray, Jr. (the author of the Foreword to Humbert's manuscript), Mrs. “Richard F. Schiller” (Lolita's married name) died in childbed, giving birth to a stillborn girl, on Christmas Day 1952, in Gray Star, a settlement in the remotest Northwest:
For the benefit of old-fashioned readers who wish to follow the destinies of “real” people beyond the “true” story, a few details may be given as received from Mr. “Windmuller,” of “Ramsdale,” who desires his identity suppressed so that “the long shadows of this sorry and sordid business” should not reach the community to which he is proud to belong. His daughter, “Louise,” is by now a college sophomore. “Mona Dahl” is a student in Paris. “Rita” has recently married the proprietor of a hotel in Florida. Mrs. “Richard F. Schiller” died in childbed, giving birth to a stillborn girl, on Christmas Day 1952, in Gray Star, a settlement in the remotest Northwest. ‘Vivian Darkbloom’ has written a biography, ‘My Cue,’ to be published shortly, and critics who have perused the manuscript call it her best book. The caretakers of the various cemeteries involved report that no ghosts walk.
In Friedrich Schiller's five-act tragedy Don Carlos (1787) the hero says (Act One, scene 1): Ein Augenblick, gelebt im Paradiese, Wird nicht zu teuer mit dem Tod gebüßt ("A moment lived in paradise is not purchased too dearly at the ransom of death"). A line in Vyazemski's poem Tolstomu (1818) addressed to Count Tolstoy the American, "Iz raya v ad, iz ada v ray (From paradise to hell, from hell to paradise)," brings to mind Humbert's elected paradise - a paradise whose skies were the color of hell-flames - but still a paradise:
She had entered my world, umber and black Humberland, with rash curiosity; she surveyed it with a shrug of amused distaste; and it seemed to me now that she was ready to turn away from it with something akin to plain repulsion. Never did she vibrate under my touch, and a strident “what d’you think you are doing?” was all I got for my pains. To the wonderland I had to offer, my fool preferred the corniest movies, the most cloying fudge. To think that between a Hamburger and a Humburger, she would - invariably, with icy precision - plump for the former. There is nothing more atrociously cruel than an adored child. Did I mention the name of that milk bar I visited a moment ago? It was, of all things, The Frigid Queen. Smiling a little sadly, I dubbed her My Frigid Princess. She did not see the wistful joke.
Oh, do not scowl at me, reader, I do not intend to convey the impression that I did not manage to be happy. Reader must understand that in the possession and thralldom of a nymphet the enchanted traveler stands, as it were, beyond happiness. For there is no other bliss on earth comparable to that of fondling a nymphet. It is hors concours, that bliss, it belongs to another class, another plane of sensitivity. Despite our tiffs, despite her nastiness, despite all the fuss and faces she made, and the vulgarity, and the danger, and the horrible hopelessness of it all, I still dwelled deep in my elected paradise - a paradise whose skies were the color of hell-flames - but still a paradise. (2.3)
A character in Konstantin Merezhkovski's Ray Zemnoy ili Son v zimnyuyu noch' ("The Earthly Paradise, or a Midwinter Night's Dream," 1903), an utopian novel set in the 27th century on a Polynesian island, Lolla (the mother of seven charming girls with an age range from 5 to 12) resembles a good dairy cow with udder-like breasts:
— Вообще, — продолжал он, — в отношении женского вопроса мы еще находимся в переходном состоянии, женский элемент не установился у нас окончательно, и мы производим теперь интересные опыты: мы стараемся выработать двоякого типа женщин — женщин-матерей, специально приспособленных для продолжения рода, и женщин-любовниц — для поэзии любви. И мы достигли уже некоторых результатов, которые позволяют нам надеяться, что лет через 200 женский вопрос будет окончательно и вполне благополучно разрешен. Да вот посмотрите лучше сами, чего мы достигли.
При этом он указал на угол палатки, где в полутьме лежало какое-то существо; вглядевшись, я увидел, что то была женщина. Она лежала на животе, подперши голову обеими ладонями, а возле нее на земле барахтались с обеих сторон двое ребятишек, задравши ножки кверху и энергично посасывая висевшие книзу груди.
— Лолла, встань и подойди сюда, — сказал старик, — чужеземец хочет на тебя посмотреть.
Она освободила груди от ребятишек и с улыбкой подошла к нам. Это была очень красивая лицом женщина, но резко отличавшаяся по строению своего тела от остальных. Она была гораздо полнее их, очень широкая в бедрах, но что особенно поражало в ней — это сильное развитие ее грудей, висевших как два огромных вздутых мешка; в общем в фигуре ее было мало грации, она и по внешнему виду, и по своим медленным, несколько неуклюжим движениям напоминала хорошую дойную корову, чему много способствовали ее вымеобразные груди. (Day One, chapter VI)
Lolla's vymeobraznye grudi (udder-like breasts) bring to mind a rather exciting little freak, a young lady with three breasts, one a dandy, that Quilty offers Humbert:
“Now look here, Mac,” he said. “You are drunk and I am a sick man. Let us postpone the matter. I need quiet. I have to nurse my impotence. Friends are coming in the afternoon to take me to a game. This pistol-packing farce is becoming a frightful nuisance. We are men of the world, in everything - sex, free verse, marksmanship. If you bear me a grudge, I am ready to make unusual amends. Even an old-fashioned rencontre, sword or pistol, in Rio or elsewhere - is not excluded. My memory and my eloquence are not at their best today, but really, my dear Mr. Humbert, you were not an ideal stepfather, and I did not force your little protégé to join me. It was she made me remove her to a happier home. This house is not as modern as that ranch we shared with dear friends. But it is roomy, cool in summer and winter, and in a word comfortable, so, since I intend retiring to England or Florence forever, I suggest you move in. It is yours, gratis. Under the condition you stop pointing at me that [he swore disgustingly] gun. By the way, I do not know if you care for the bizarre, but if you do, I can offer you, also gratis, as house pet, a rather exciting little freak, a young lady with three breasts, one a dandy, this is a rare and delightful marvel of nature. Now, soyons raisonnables. You will only wound me hideously and then rot in jail while I recuperate in a tropical setting. I promise you, Brewster, you will be happy here, with a magnificent cellar, and all the royalties from my next play - I have not much at the bank right now but I propose to borrow - you know, as the Bard said, with that cold in his head, to borrow and to borrow and to borrow. There are other advantages. We have here a most reliable and bribable charwoman, a Mrs. Vibrissa - curious name - who comes from the village twice a week, alas not today, she has daughters, granddaughters, a thing or two I know about the chief of police makes him my slave. I am a playwright. I have been called the American Maeterlinck. Maeterlinck-Schmetterling, says I. Come on! All this is very humiliating, and I am not sure I am doing the right thing. Never use herculanita with rum. Now drop that pistol like a good fellow. I knew your dear wife slightly. You may use my wardrobe. Oh, another thingyou are going to like this. I have an absolutely unique collection of erotica upstairs. Just to mention one item: the in folio de-luxe Bagration Island by the explorer and psychoanalyst Melanie Weiss, a remarkable lady, a remarkable work - drop that gun - with photographs of eight hundred and something male organs she examined and measured in 1932 on Bagration, in the Barda Sea, very illuminating graphs, plotted with love under pleasant skies - drop that gun - and moreover I can arrange for you to attend executions, not everybody knows that the chair is painted yellow” (2.35)
Describing his arrest after the murder of Quilty, Humbert mentions surprised cows:
The road now stretched across open country, and it occurred to menot by way of protest, not as a symbol, or anything like that, but merely as a novel experiencethat since I had disregarded all laws of humanity, I might as well disregard the rules of traffic. So I crossed to the left side of the highway and checked the feeling, and the feeling was good. It was a pleasant diaphragmal melting, with elements of diffused tactility, all this enhanced by the thought that nothing could be nearer to the elimination of basic physical laws than deliberately driving on the wrong side of the road. In a way, it was a very spiritual itch. Gently, dreamily, not exceeding twenty miles an hour, I drove on that queer mirror side. Traffic was light. Cars that now and then passed me on the side I had abandoned to them, honked at me brutally. Cars coming towards me wobbled, swerved, and cried out in fear. Presently I found myself approaching populated places. Passing through a red light was like a sip of forbidden Burgundy when I was a child. Meanwhile complications were arising. I was being followed and escorted. Then in front of me I saw two cars placing themselves in such a manner as to completely block my way. With a graceful movement I turned off the road, and after two or three big bounces, rode up a grassy slope, among surprised cows, and there I came to a gentle rocking stop. A kind of thoughtful Hegelian synthesis linking up two dead women. (2.36)