Describing Lolita's illness and hospitalization in Elphinstone (a small town in the Rocky Mountains), Humbert Humbert (the narrator and main character in VN’s novel Lolita, 1955) mentions some “serum” (sparrow’s sperm or dugong’s dung) to which Lolita's young organism splendidly reacted:
This was Tuesday, and Wednesday or Thursday, splendidly reacting like the darling she was to some “serum” (sparrow’s sperm or dugong’s dung), she was much better, and the doctor said that in a couple of days she would be “skipping” again. (2.22)
In the Russian Lolita (1967) Lolita reacts to syvorotka (serum) made of sperma spruta (octopus's sperm) or slyuna slona (elephant's saliva):
Это было во вторник, а в среду или четверг, чудно реагируя - душенька моя! - на какую-то "сыворотку" (из спермы спрута или слюны слона), она почти совсем поправилась, и врач сказал, что "денька через два она будет опять скакать".
Slyuna slona (elephant's saliva) brings to mind Elephant (as in a conversation with Humbert Lolita, now married to Dick Schiller and big with child, calls Elphinstone):
Her camp five years ago. Curious coincidence… took her to a dude ranch about a day’s drive from Elephant (Elphinstone). Named? Oh, some silly name - Duk Duk Ranch - you know just plain silly - but it did not matter now, anyway, because the place had vanished and disintegrated. Really, she meant, I could not imagine how utterly lush that ranch was, she meant it had everything but everything, even an indoor waterfall. Did I remember the red-haired guy we (“we” was good) had once had some tennis with? Well, the place really belonged to Red’s brother, but he had turned it over to Cue for the summer. When Cue and she came, the others had them actually go through a coronation ceremony and then - a terrific ducking, as when you cross the Equator. You know.
Her eyes rolled in synthetic resignation. (2.29)
and Slyunoyu beshenoy sobaki (With a rabid dog's slaiva), the last line of Pushkin's 1824 epigram on Kachenovski (a hostile critic), "Okhotnik do zhurnal'noy draki (Keen on journalistic fight):"
Охотник до журнальной драки,
Сей усыпительный зоил
Разводит опиум чернил
Слюною бешеной собаки.
Keen on journalistic fight,
This soporific Zoilus
Dilutes the opium of ink
With a rabid dog's slaiva.
The epigram's first line, Okhotnik do zhurnal'noy draki (Keen on journalistic fight), makes one think of Prival Zacharovannykh Okhotnikov (The Enchanted Hunters in the Russian Lolita), a hotel in Briceland where Humbert and Lolita spend their first night together (and where dogs are not allowed). Dr Blue (who told Humbert that in a couple of days Lolita would be “skipping” again) brings to mind the blue hotel in a little poem that Humbert composed for Rita (a girl whom he picked up in May 1950 at a roadside bar between Montreal and New York):
I went to find Rita who introduced me with her vin triste smile to a pocket-sized wizened truculently tight old man saying this was - what was the name again, son? - a former schoolmate of hers. He tried to retain her, and in the slight scuffle that followed I hurt my thumb against his hard head. In the silent painted park where I walked her and aired her a little, she sobbed and said I would soon, soon leave her as everybody had, and I sang her a wistful French ballad, and strung together some fugitive rhymes to amuse her:
The place was called Enchanted Hunters. Query:
What Indian dyes, Diana, did thy dell
endorse to make of Picture Lake a very
blood bath of trees before the blue hotel?
She said: “Why blue when it is white, why blue for heaven’s sake?” and started to cry again, and I marched her to the car, and we drove on to New York, and soon she was reasonably happy again high up in the haze on the little terrace of our flat. I notice I have somehow mixed up two events, my visit with Rita to Briceland on our way to Cantrip, and our passing through Briceland again on our way back to New York, but such suffusions of swimming colors are not to be disdained by the artist in recollection. (2.26)
Поразительный паразит пошёл за Ритой в бар. С той грустной улыбкой, которая появлялась у неё на лице от избытка алкоголя, она представила меня агрессивно-пьяному старику, говоря, что он — запамятовала вашу фамилию, дорогуша — учился с ней в одной школе. Он дерзко попробовал задержать её, и в последовавшей потасовке я больно ушиб большой палец об его весьма твёрдую голову. Затем мне пришлось некоторое время прогуливать и проветривать Риту в раскрашенном осенью парке Зачарованных Охотников. Она всхлипывала и повторяла, что скоро, скоро я брошу её, как все в жизни её бросали, и я спел ей вполголоса задумчивую французскую балладу и сочинил альбомный стишок ей в забаву:
Палитра клёнов в озере, как рана,
Отражена. Ведёт их на убой
В багряном одеянии Диана
Перед гостиницею голубой.
Она спросила: «Но почему голубой, когда она белая? Почему — Господи Боже мой…» — и зарыдала снова. Я решительно повёл её к автомобилю. Мы продолжали наш путь в Нью-Йорк, и там она опять зажила в меру счастливо, прохлаждаясь под дымчатой синевой посреди нашей маленькой террасы на тридцатом этаже. Замечаю, что каким-то образом у меня безнадёжно спутались два разных эпизода — моё посещение Брайсландской библиотеки на обратном пути в Нью-Йорк и прогулка в парке на переднем пути в Кантрип, но подобным смешением смазанных красок не должен брезговать художник-мнемозинист.