In his commentary to Shade’s poem Kinbote (in VN's novel Pale Fire, 1962, Shade's mad commentator who imagines that he is Charles the Beloved, the last self-exiled king of Zembla) describes Hazel Shade’s and his own attempts to decipher a message from the ghost and mentions a secret design in the abracadabra:
Jane allowed me to copy out some of Hazel's notes from a typescript based on jottings made on the spot:
10:14 P.M. Investigation commenced.
10:23. Scrappy and scrabbly sounds.
10:25. A roundlet of pale light, the size of a small doily, flitted across the dark walls, the boarded windows, and the floor; changed its place; lingered here and there, dancing up and down; seemed to wait in teasing play for evadable pounce. Gone.
10:37. Back again.
The notes continue for several pages but for obvious reasons I must renounce to give them verbatim in this commentary. There were long pauses and "scratches and scrapings" again, and returns of the luminous circlet. She spoke to it. If asked something that it found deliciously silly ("Are you a will-o-the-wisp?") it would dash to and fro in ecstatic negation, and when it wanted to give a grave answer to a grave question ("Are you dead?") would slowly ascend with an air of gathering altitude for a weighty affirmative drop. For brief periods of time it responded to the alphabet she recited by staying put until the right letter was called whereupon it gave a small jump of approval. But these jumps would get more and more listless, and after a couple of words had been slowly spelled out, the roundlet went limp like a tired child and finally crawled into a chink; out of which it suddenly flew with extravagant brio and started to spin around the walls in its eagerness to resume the game. The jumble of broken words and meaningless syllables which she managed at last to collect came out in her dutiful notes as a short line of simple letter-groups. I transcribe:
pada ata lane pad not ogo old wart alan ther tale feur far rant lant tal told.
In her Remarks, the recorder states she had to recite the alphabet, or at least begin to recite it (there is a merciful preponderance of a's) eighty times, but of these seventeen yielded no results. Divisions based on such variable intervals cannot be but rather arbitrary; some of the balderdash may be recombined into other lexical units making no better sense (e. g., "war,""talant," ”her," "arrant," etc.). The barn ghost seems to have expressed himself with the empasted difficulty of apoplexy or of a half-awakening from a half-dream slashed by a sword of light on the ceiling, a military disaster with cosmic consequences that cannot be phrased distinctly by the thick unwilling tongue. And in this case we too might wish to cut short a reader's or bedfellow's questions by sinking back into oblivion's bliss - had not a diabolical force urged us to seek a secret design in the abracadabra,
812 Some kind of link-and-bobolink, some kind
813 Of correlated pattern in the game.
I abhor such games; they make my temples throb with abominable pain - but I have braved it and pored endlessly, with a commentator's infinite patience and disgust, over the crippled syllables in Hazel's report to find the least allusion to the poor girl's fate. Not one hint did I find. Neither old Hentzner's specter, nor an ambushed scamp's toy flashlight, nor her own imaginative hysteria, expresses anything here that might be construed, however remotely, as containing a warning; or having some bearing on the circumstances of her soon-coming death. (note to Line 347)
Kinbote fails to see that a message from the ghost of Aunt Maud warns Shade against walking along the lane when he sees a Vanessa atalanta butterfly. "A secret design in the abracadabra" mentioned by Kinbote brings to mind "neskol'ko raz povtorit' etu abrakadabru (repeat this abracadabra several times over)," a phrase used by Vsevolod Solovyov (a Russian writer, 1849-1903) in his book on Helena Blavatsky (a Russian and American mystic, the co-founder of the Theosophical Society, born Helena von Hahn, 1831-1891), Sovremennaya zhritsa Izidy ("A Modern Priestess of Isis," 1892), when he describes his initiation into the Theosophical Society in Paris in May 1884:
Индус говорил о значении «теософического общества», говорил то, что мне уже было известно из устава и со слов Елены Петровны. Затем он спросил меня — искренняя ли любовь к ближним и серьёзный ли интерес к изучению психических свойств человека и сил природы приводят меня в «общество»? Я ответил, что праздного любопытства во мне нет, что если занятия мои с помощью членов общества помогут мне исследовать хоть один вопрос, относящийся до духовной стороны человека — я почту себя очень счастливым.
— В таком случае вы становитесь нашим собратом и отныне вступаете в единение со всеми теософами, находящимися во всех странах света. Я сейчас сообщу вам наш пароль.
— Что ж это такое? — спросил я Китли.
— А это môt de passe, известное всем теософам, — ответил он. — Вы должны это выучить, потому что без знания этого пароля вы не обойдётесь, индусы будут питать к вам недоверие и при встрече не признают вас своим другом, членом теософического общества.
— Я вряд ли попаду в Индию; но пусть Могини скажет пароль, только дайте мне, пожалуйста, карандаш и бумагу — записать, я не надеюсь на свою память.
— О! — воскликнул Китли, — это невозможно! вы должны запомнить наизусть, непременно наизусть. Если у вас не записано, а вы знаете, что надо помнить, — вы невольно станете повторять про себя, заучите — и никогда не забудете.
— Хорошо, пусть он говорит.
Пароль состоял из разных движений пальцами и нескольких совершенно бессвязных слов.
Они очень важно заставили меня несколько раз повторить эту абракадабру. Затем я сделал членский взнос — заплатил фунт стерлингов и получил расписку. Могини кланялся мне и улыбался. Китли крепко жал мне руку и поздравлял со вступлением в общество. Они были так торжественны и оба, особенно Китли, казались такими ребятами, забавляющимися игрушками, что эта моя «инициация» представилась мне содеянной мною глупостью, за которую становилось как-то стыдно и даже почти противно.
А дальше было ещё хуже. Могини, признавая теперь меня своим «братом» и, очевидно, желая заинтересовать меня, стал рассказывать о своём гуру, махатме Кут-Хуми, и о том, что он сегодня утром удостоился получить от него письмо, отвечавшее на вопросы, только что им себе заданные. Письмо пришло вовсе не по почте, а упало прямо на голову Могини.
Mohini and Keightley entered, and initiated me into the society, teaching me the password. The password consisted of certain movements of the fingers and some perfectly disconnected words.
With great seriousness they made me repeat this abracadabra several times over. I then paid my member's subscription, handing over a pound sterling, and obtaining a receipt. Mohini bowed to me and smiled. Keightley shook my hand warmly, and congratulated me on my entrance into thesociety. They were so serious, and both of them, especially Keightley, were so like children carried away by a game, that my initiation seemed to me like a silly joke of my own, which left behind it a sort of feeling of shame and even of repugnance.
But there was worse to come. Mohini, now acknowledging me as his brother, and evidently wishing to interest me, began to tell me about his ''guru," Mahatma Koot Hoomi, and how he had that morning had the honour of receiving a letter from him, containing replies to questions put by himself alone. The letter had not come by post at all, but had fallen right on Mohini's head.
The Hindu spoke of this phenomenon with the greatest reverence; but, far from believing it, I only felt a longing to get out at once into a purer atmosphere. (Chapter III)
Certain movements of the fingers remind one of the sign that Oswin Bretwit (the former Zemblan council in Paris) asks Gradus (Shade's murderer) to give:
"All right, I am ready. Give me the sign," he avidly said.
Gradus, deciding to risk it, glanced at the hand in Bretwit's lap: unperceived by its owner, it seemed to be prompting Gradus in a manual whisper. He tried to copy what it was doing its best to convey - mere rudiments of the required sign.
"No, no," said Bretwit with an indulgent smile for the awkward novice. "The other hand, my friend. His Majesty is left-handed, you know."
Gradus tried again - but, like an expelled puppet, the wild little prompter had disappeared. Sheepishly contemplating his five stubby strangers, Gradus went through the motions of an incompetent and half-paralyzed shadowgrapher and finally made an uncertain V-for-Victory sign. Bretwit's smile began to fade. (note to Line 286)
Madame Blavatsky's Hindu disciple, Mohini brings to mind a Hindu member of the Extremist party who translated into crude Zemblan Queen Disa's letter to her husband:
When the Zemblan Revolution broke out (May 1, 1958), she wrote the King a wild letter in governess English, urging him to come and stay with her until the situation cleared up. The letter was intercepted by the Onhava police, translated into crude Zemblan by a Hindu member of the Extremist party, and then read aloud to the royal captive in a would-be ironic voice by the preposterous commandant of the palace. There happened to be in that letter one - only one, thank God - sentimental sentence: "I want you to know that no matter how much you hurt me, you cannot hurt my love," and this sentence (if we re-English it from the Zemblan) came out as: "I desire you and love when you flog me." He interrupted the commandant, calling him a buffoon and a rogue, and insulting everybody around so dreadfully that the Extremists had to decide fast whether to shoot him at once or let him have the original of the letter. (note to Lines 433-434)
In one of the next chapters of his book Vsevolod Solovyov describes the "phenomenon of the letter" that he witnessed at Mme Blavatsky's:
Через несколько дней по приезде этих дам произошёл «феномен с письмом». Елена Петровна уговорила-таки меня подвергнуться магнетическим сеансам Олкотта, — и я должен был приезжать с этой целью по утрам, до двенадцати часов, через день. Приехал я раз и застал в маленькой гостиной несколько человек. Блаватская была в каком-то особенно возбуждённом состоянии. Г-жа X. ещё не выходила из своей комнаты. Раздался звонок. Я сидел так, что видел, как Бабула отворил дверь, принял письмо и, войдя к нам, положил его на стол.
Блаватская и г-жа Y., взглянув на штемпель и адрес письма, сказали, что оно к г-же X. из О. от общей их родственницы. Письмо было не только совершенно заклеено в плотном, не просвечивающем конверте, но и на месте печати находилась почтовая марка.
Елена Петровна неожиданно для всех предложила прочесть это письмо в запечатанном конверте.
— Нет, это вздор! это невозможно! ты никогда этого не сделаешь! — воскликнула г-жа Y.
«Madame» повела на неё глазами, приложила письмо ко лбу и стала с видимым усилием громко говорить, записывая в то же время на листе бумаги слова свои. Когда она кончила, г-жа Y. снова выразила сомнение в успешности опыта и уверяла, что некоторые подробности, сказанные и записанные Еленой Петровной, вряд ли могут находиться в письме.
Блаватская видимо раздражилась этим и довольно резко объявила, что сделает больше. Она начертила красным карандашом на своей бумаге, в конце записанного ею содержания письма, теософический знак, затем подчеркнула одно слово и с напряжённым выражением лица, с видимым большим усилием воли, произнесла:
— Этот знак должен быть в конце письма, и это слово также подчеркнуто!
Затем письмо передали в открытую дверь г-же X. Она тотчас же к нам вышла, оканчивая разрывать конверт, вынула письмо и прочла. Содержание его оказалось тождественным с записанным Еленой Петровной, хотя далеко не слово в слово, и при этом мы увидели в конце в точности повторённый красным карандашом знак Блаватской и слово, подчёркнутое ею, находилось в письме и было точно также подчёркнуто.
Дамы, поражённые, тотчас же составили подробное описание этого интересного феномена, и все присутствовавшие подписались. Подписался, конечно, и я.
Ведь я не имел никакого ни нравственного, ни юридического права сказать им тогда, что Бабула мог подать заранее, за час или за два перед тем, подготовленное и снова заклеенное письмо, что г-жа X. очень легко могла, на мгновение отвернувшись в дверях, вложить в конверт подготовленное письмо и только сделать вид, что оканчивает разрывать конверт перед нами. Да я тогда и не помышлял ни о каких подобных возможностях. Вот в какое положение бывает поставлен человек, попадающий в руки «дам, проведших семь лет в Тибете»!
Когда Блаватская спросила меня, доволен ли я, удовлетворил ли меня феномен? — я сказал ей, что хоть и не могу не верить, но всё же чем-то не удовлетворён.
— Пождите, увидите лучше, — произнесла она с улыбкой.
Ждать мне пришлось недолго.
Some days after the arrival of these ladies occurred the "phenomenon of the letter". Helena Petrovna had persuaded me to submit myself to a magnetic seance by Olcott, and I was to come for the purpose every two days before twelve o'clock. I came once, and found several persons in the little drawing-room. Madame Blavatsky was in a particularly excited state. Miss X had not yet left her room. The bell rang. I sat so that I could see Babula open the door, take a letter, come into the room, and lay it on the table. Madame Blavatsky and Madame Y looked at the postmark and address of the letter, and said that it was for Miss X, and came from a common relation in O. The letter was not only completely gummed in a stout, opaque envelope, but the postage stamp was affixed in the place of the seal. Helena Petrovna, quite unexpectedly to us all, proposed to read this letter in the sealed envelope.
"No, that is nonsense. It is impossible. You never will do that," exclaimed Madame Y.
Madame turned her eyes on her, put the letter against her forehead, and began to speak aloud with a visible effort, at the same time writing down her words upon a sheet of paper. When she had done, Madame Y again expressed her doubts as to the success of the experiment, and declared that certain details which Helena Petrovna had spoken and written down could hardly be in the letter. Madame Blavatsky was evidently irritated by this, and with some sharpness declared that she would do better. With a red pencil she drew on her paper, at the end of the contents of the letter as she had written them, a theosophical sign; she then underlined one word, and with a tense expression on her face, and obviously with a great effort of will, she announced: ''This sign must be at the end of the letter, and this word must be underlined in it". The letter was then handed through the open door to Miss X. She came out to us at once, in the act of tearing open the envelope, took out the letter and read it. The contents of it turned out to be identical with what Helena Petrovna had written, though by no means word for word; and at the end we found Madame Blavatsky's sign exactly reproduced in red pencil, while the word which she had underlined occurred in the letter and was underlined in just the same way. The ladies, astounded, immediately drew up a detailed account of this interesting phenomenon, and all those who were present signed it. I, of course, signed too. Certainly I had no moral or legal right to tell them then that Babula might have brought in a letter aleady prepared an hour or two before, and fastened up again; or that Miss X very easily might, by turning back for a moment behind the door, have put a prepared letter into the envelope, and only have pretended to be in the act of opening the envelope before us. Moreover at the time no such possibilities even occurred to me. Such is theposition to which a man may be brought, if he falls into the hands of ''ladies who have passed seven years in Thibet".
When Madame Blavatsky asked me if I were satisfied, and if the phenomenon had surprised me, I said that, though I could not but believe, I was still somehow dissatisfied.
''Wait a bit, you shall see better than that," she said with a smile.
I had not long to wait. (Chapter V)