Vladimir Nabokov

Ursus & polecat in Ada

By Alexey Sklyarenko, 23 December, 2024

After the dinner in 'Ursus' and the debauch à trois in Van's Manhattan flat Ada calls Cordula Tobak (Van's former mistress, born de Prey) "a polecat:"

 

Thus seen from above, as if reflected in the ciel mirror that Eric had naively thought up in his Cyprian dreams (actually all is shadowy up there, for the blinds are still drawn, shutting out the gray morning), we have the large island of the bed illumined from our left (Lucette’s right) by a lamp burning with a murmuring incandescence on the west-side bedtable. The top sheet and quilt are tumbled at the footboardless south of the island where the newly landed eye starts on its northern trip, up the younger Miss Veen’s pried-open legs. A dewdrop on russet moss eventually finds a stylistic response in the aquamarine tear on her flaming cheekbone. Another trip from the port to the interior reveals the central girl’s long white left thigh; we visit souvenir stalls: Ada’s red-lacquered talons, which lead a man’s reasonably recalcitrant, pardonably yielding wrist out of the dim east to the bright russet west, and the sparkle of her diamond necklace, which, for the nonce, is not much more valuable than the aquamarines on the other (west) side of Novelty Novel lane. The scarred male nude on the island’s east coast is half-shaded, and, on the whole, less interesting, though considerably more aroused than is good for him or a certain type of tourist. The recently repapered wall immediately west of the now louder-murmuring (et pour cause) dorocene lamp is ornamented in the central girl’s honor with Peruvian’ honeysuckle’ being visited (not only for its nectar, I’m afraid, but for the animalcules stuck in it) by marvelous Loddigesia Hummingbirds, while the bedtable on that side bears a lowly box of matches, a karavanchik of cigarettes, a Monaco ashtray, a copy of Voltemand’s poor thriller, and a Lurid Oncidium Orchid in an amethystine vaselet. The companion piece on Van’s side supports a similar superstrong but unlit lamp, a dorophone, a box of Wipex, a reading loupe, the returned Ardis album, and a separatum ‘Soft music as cause of brain tumors,’ by Dr Anbury (young Rattner’s waggish pen-name). Sounds have colors, colors have smells. The fire of Lucette’s amber runs through the night of Ada’s odor and ardor, and stops at the threshold of Van’s lavender goat. Ten eager, evil, loving, long fingers belonging to two different young demons caress their helpless bed pet. Ada’s loose black hair accidentally tickles the local curio she holds in her left fist, magnanimously demonstrating her acquisition. Unsigned and unframed.

That about summed it up (for the magical gewgaw liquefied all at once, and Lucette, snatching up her nightdress, escaped to her room). It was only the sort of shop where the jeweler’s fingertips have a tender way of enhancing the preciousness of a trinket by something akin to a rubbing of hindwings on the part of a settled lycaenid or to the frottage of a conjurer’s thumb dissolving a coin; but just in such a shop the anonymous picture attributed to Grillo or Obieto, caprice or purpose, ober- or unterart, is found by the ferreting artist.

‘She’s terribly nervous, the poor kid,’ remarked Ada stretching across Van toward the Wipex. ‘You can order that breakfast now — unless... Oh, what a good sight! Orchids. I’ve never seen a man make such a speedy recovery.’

‘Hundreds of whores and scores of cuties more experienced than the future Mrs Vinelander have told me that.’

‘I may not be as bright as I used to be,’ sadly said Ada, ‘but I know somebody who is not simply a cat, but a polecat, and that’s Cordula Tobacco alias Madame Perwitsky, I read in this morning’s paper that in France ninety percent of cats die of cancer. I don’t know what the situation is in Poland.’ (2.8).

 

A polecat seems to hint at polu-kot (a half-cat), one of the monsters in Tatiana's dream in Chapter Five (XVI: 14) of Pushkin's Eugene Onegin:

 

Опомнилась, глядит Татьяна:
Медведя нет; она в сенях;
За дверью крик и звон стакана,
Как на больших похоронах;
Не видя тут ни капли толку,
Глядит она тихонько в щелку,
И что же видит?.. за столом
Сидят чудовища кругом:
Один в рогах с собачьей мордой,
Другой с петушьей головой,
Здесь ведьма с козьей бородой,
Тут остов чопорный и гордый,
Там карла с хвостиком, а вот
Полу-журавль и полу-кот.

 

Tatiana comes to, looks:

no bear; she's in a hallway;

behind the door there's shouting and the jingle

of glasses as at some big funeral.

Perceiving not a drop of sense in this,

she furtively looks through the chink

— and what then? She sees... at a table

monsters are seated in a circle:

one horned and dog-faced;

another with a rooster's head;

here is a witch with a goat's beard;

here, prim and proud, a skeleton;

yonder, a dwarf with a small tail; and there,

something half crane, half cat.

 

Ursus is Latin for "bear." The best Franco-Estotian restaurant in Manhattan Major, 'Ursus' brings to mind Medved', a fashionable restaurant in the pre-Revolutionary St. Petersburg, and medved' (the bear) in Tatiana's dream (EO, Fire: XII-XV):

 

Как на досадную разлуку,
Татьяна ропщет на ручей;
Не видит никого, кто руку
С той стороны подал бы ей;
Но вдруг сугроб зашевелился,
И кто ж из-под него явился?
Большой, взъерошенный медведь;
Татьяна ах! а он реветь,
И лапу с острыми когтями
Ей протянул; она скрепясь
Дрожащей ручкой оперлась
И боязливыми шагами
Перебралась через ручей;
Пошла — и что ж? медведь за ней!

Она, взглянуть назад не смея,
Поспешный ускоряет шаг;
Но от косматого лакея
Не может убежать никак;
Кряхтя, валит медведь несносный;
Пред ними лес; недвижны сосны
В своей нахмуренной красе;
Отягчены их ветви все
Клоками снега; сквозь вершины
Осин, берез и лип нагих
Сияет луч светил ночных;
Дороги нет; кусты, стремнины
Метелью все занесены,
Глубоко в снег погружены.
 

Татьяна в лес; медведь за нею;
Снег рыхлый по колено ей;
То длинный сук ее за шею
Зацепит вдруг, то из ушей
Златые серьги вырвет силой;
То в хрупком снеге с ножки милой
Увязнет мокрый башмачок;
То выронит она платок;
Поднять ей некогда; боится,
Медведя слышит за собой,
И даже трепетной рукой
Одежды край поднять стыдится;
Она бежит, он всё вослед:
И сил уже бежать ей нет.
 

Упала в снег; медведь проворно
Ее хватает и несет;
Она бесчувственно-покорна,
Не шевельнется, не дохнет;
Он мчит ее лесной дорогой;
Вдруг меж дерев шалаш убогой;
Кругом всё глушь; отвсюду он
Пустынным снегом занесен,
И ярко светится окошко,
И в шалаше и крик, и шум;
Медведь промолвил: здесь мой кум:
Погрейся у него немножко!
И в сени прямо он идет,
И на порог ее кладет.

 

As at a vexing separation,

Tatiana murmurs at the brook;

sees nobody who from the other side

might offer her a hand.

But suddenly a snowdrift stirred,

and who appeared from under it?

A large bear with a ruffled coat;

Tatiana uttered “Ach!” and he went roaring

and a paw with sharp claws

stretched out to her. Nerving herself,

she leaned on it with trembling hand

and worked her way with apprehensive steps

across the brook; walked on —

and what then? The bear followed her.

 

She, to look back not daring,

accelerates her hasty step;

but from the shaggy footman

can in no way escape;

grunting, the odious bear keeps lumbering on.

Before them is a wood; the pines

are stirless in their frowning beauty;

all their boughs are weighed down

by snow flocks; through the summits

of aspens, birches, lindens bare

the beam of the night luminaries shines;

there is no path; shrubs, precipices, all

are drifted over by the blizzard,

plunged deep in snow.

 

Into the forest goes Tatiana; the bear follows;

up to her knee comes yielding snow;

now by the neck a long branch suddenly

catches her, or by force it tears

out of her ears their golden pendants;

now in the crumbly snow sticks fast

a small wet shoe come off her charming foot;

now she lets fall her handkerchief —

she has no time to pick it up,

is frightened, hears the bear behind her,

and even is too shy to raise

with tremulous hand the hem of her dress;

she runs; he keeps behind her;

and then she has no force to run.

 

Into the snow she's fallen; the bear deftly

snatches her up and carries her;

she is insensibly submissive;

stirs not, breathes not;

he rushes her along a forest road;

sudden, 'mongst trees, there is a humble hut;

dense wildwood all around; from every side

'tis drifted over with desolate snow,

and brightly glows a window;

and in the hut are cries and noise;

the bear quoth: “Here's my gossip,

do warm yourself a little in his home!”

and straight he goes into the hallway

and on the threshold lays her down.

 

Kosmatyi lakey (the shaggy footman), as Pushkin calls the bear, brings to mind Ada's and Lucette's furs locked up in the vault of 'Ursus:'

 

‘Why,’ asked Lucette, kissing Ada’s cheek as they both rose (making swimming gestures behind their backs in search of the furs locked up in the vault or somewhere), ‘why did the first song, Uzh gasli v komnatah ogni, and the "redolent roses," upset you more than your favorite Fet and the other, about the bugler’s sharp elbow?’

‘Van, too, was upset,’ replied Ada cryptically and grazed with freshly rouged lips tipsy Lucette’s fanciest freckle.

Detachedly, merely tactually, as if he had met those two slow-moving, hip-swaying graces only that night, Van, while steering them through a doorway (to meet the sinchilla mantillas that were being rushed toward them by numerous, new, eager, unfairly, inexplicably impecunious, humans), place one palm, the left, on Ada’s long bare back and the other on Lucette’s spine, quite as naked and long (had she meant the lad or the ladder? Lapse of the lisping lips?). Detachedly, he sifted and tasted this sensation, then that. His girl’s ensellure was hot ivory; Lucette’s was downy and damp. He too had had just about his ‘last straw’ of champagne, namely four out of half a dozen bottles minus a rizzom (as we said at old Chose) and now, as he followed their bluish furs, he inhaled like a fool his right hand before gloving it. (2.8)

 

Ada calls Cordula "Madame Perwitsky." Perwitzky is the fur of the rare tiger polecat, Foetorius sarmaticus. In Shakespeare's play The Merry Wives of Windsor "polecat" became a nickname of a promiscuous or loose-moraled woman.

 

Tatiana's prophetic dream (in which Onegin stabs Lenski to death) foreshadows Lenski's fatal duel with Onegin in Chapter Six of EO. After Lucette has left Van's flat, Van and Ada write an apologetic note to her:

 

After a while he adored [sic! Ed.] the pancakes. No Lucette, however, turned up, and when Ada, still wearing her diamonds (in sign of at least one more caro Van and a Camel before her morning bath) looked into the guest room, she found the white valise and blue furs gone. A note scrawled in Arlen Eyelid Green was pinned to the pillow.

Would go mad if remained one more night shall ski at Verma with other poor woolly worms for three weeks or so miserable

Pour Elle

Van walked over to a monastic lectern that he had acquired for writing in the vertical position of vertebrate thought and wrote what follows:

Poor L.

We are sorry you left so soon. We are even sorrier to have inveigled our Esmeralda and mermaid in a naughty prank. That sort of game will never be played again with you, darling firebird. We apollo [apologize]. Remembrance, embers and membranes of beauty make artists and morons lose all self-control. Pilots of tremendous airships and even coarse, smelly coachmen are known to have been driven insane by a pair of green eyes and a copper curl. We wished to admire and amuse you, BOP (bird of paradise). We went too far. I, Van, went too far. We regret that shameful, though basically innocent scene. These are times of emotional stress and reconditioning. Destroy and forget.

Tenderly yours A & V.

(in alphabetic order).

‘I call this pompous, puritanical rot,’ said Ada upon scanning Van’s letter. ‘Why should we apollo for her having experienced a delicious spazmochka? I love her and would never allow you to harm her. It’s curious — you know, something in the tone of your note makes me really jealous for the first time in my fire [thus in the manuscript, for "life." Ed.] Van, Van, somewhere, some day, after a sunbath or dance, you will sleep with her, Van!’

‘Unless you run out of love potions. Do you allow me to send her these lines?’

‘I do, but want to add a few words.’

Her P.S. read:

The above declaration is Van’s composition which I sign reluctantly. It is pompous and puritanical. I adore you, mon petit, and would never allow him to hurt you, no matter how gently or madly. When you’re sick of Queen, why not fly over to Holland or Italy?

A. (2.8)

Darkbloom ('Notes to Ada'): spazmochka: Russ., little spasm.

 

Pilots of tremendous airships who went mad because of women's eyes and hair seem to adumbrate Demon Veen's death in a mysterious airplane disaster above the Pacific in March 1905. Van does not realize that his father died, because Ada (who could not pardon Demon his forcing Van to give her up) managed to persuade the pilot to destroy his machine in midair. In October 1905, half a year after Demon's death, Ada (now married to Andrey Vinelander) tells Van that at the funeral of Marina (Van's, Ada's and Lucette's mother) she met d'Onsky's son, a person with only one arm:

 

‘My upper-lip space feels indecently naked.’ (He had shaved his mustache off with howls of pain in her presence). ‘And I cannot keep sucking in my belly all the time.’

‘Oh, I like you better with that nice overweight — there’s more of you. It’s the maternal gene, I suppose, because Demon grew leaner and leaner. He looked positively Quixotic when I saw him at Mother’s funeral. It was all very strange. He wore blue mourning. D’Onsky’s son, a person with only one arm, threw his remaining one around Demon and both wept comme des fontaines. Then a robed person who looked like an extra in a technicolor incarnation of Vishnu made an incomprehensible sermon. Then she went up in smoke. He said to me, sobbing: "I will not cheat the poor grubs!" Practically a couple of hours after he broke that promise we had sudden visitors at the ranch — an incredibly graceful moppet of eight, black-veiled, and a kind of duenna, also in black, with two bodyguards. The hag demanded certain fantastic sums — which Demon, she said, had not had time to pay, for "popping the hymen" — whereupon I had one of our strongest boys throw out vsyu (the entire) kompaniyu.’

‘Extraordinary,’ said Van, ‘they had been growing younger and younger — I mean the girls, not the strong silent boys. His old Rosalind had a ten-year-old niece, a primed chickabiddy. Soon he would have been poaching them from the hatching chamber.’

‘You never loved your father,’ said Ada sadly.

‘Oh, I did and do — tenderly, reverently, understandingly, because, after all, that minor poetry of the flesh is something not unfamiliar to me. But as far as we are concerned, I mean you and I, he was buried on the same day as our uncle Dan.’

‘I know, I know. It’s pitiful! And what use was it? Perhaps I oughtn’t to tell you, but his visits to Agavia kept getting rarer and shorter every year. Yes, it was pitiful to hear him and Andrey talking. I mean, Andrey n’a pas le verbe facile, though he greatly appreciated — without quite understanding it — Demon’s wild flow of fancy and fantastic fact, and would often exclaim, with his Russian "tssk-tssk" and a shake of the head — complimentary and all that — "what a balagur (wag) you are!" — And then, one day, Demon warned me that he would not come any more if he heard again poor Andrey’s poor joke (Nu i balagur-zhe vï, Dementiy Labirintovich) or what Dorothy, l’impayable ("priceless for impudence and absurdity") Dorothy, thought of my camping out in the mountains with only Mayo, a cowhand, to protect me from lions.’

‘Could one hear more about that?’ asked Van.

‘Well, nobody did. All this happened at a time when I was not on speaking terms with my husband and sister-in-law, and so could not control the situation. Anyhow, Demon did not come even when he was only two hundred miles away and simply mailed instead, from some gaming house, your lovely, lovely letter about Lucette and my picture.’

‘One would also like to know some details of the actual coverture — frequence of intercourse, pet names for secret warts, favorite smells —’

‘Platok momental’no (handkerchief quick)! Your right nostril is full of damp jade,’ said Ada, and then pointed to a lawnside circular sign, rimmed with red, saying: Chiens interdits and depicting an impossible black mongrel with a white ribbon around its neck: Why, she wondered, should the Swiss magistrates forbid one to cross highland terriers with poodles? (3.8)

 

Darkbloom (‘Notes to Ada’): comme etc.: shedding floods of tears.

N’a pas le verbe etc.: lacks the gift of the gab.

chiens etc.: dogs not allowed.

 

Demon's adversary in a sword duel, Baron d'Onsky seems to be a cross between Dmitri Donskoy (the Moscow Prince who defeated Khan Mamay in the battle of Kulikovo, 1380) and Onegin's donskoy zherebets (Don stallion). D'Onsky's oneway nickname, Skonky means "a woman who is a complete whore." Centuries ago “cat” was a term to describes prostitutes. Ada (who calls Cordula a polecat) is not just a cat, but a complete whore. Btw., Ursus is the traveling artist in Victor Hugo's novel L'Homme qui rire ("The Laughing Man," 1869). The characters in Hugo's novel include the tame wolf Homo. Homo is Latin for "man." On Demonia (Earth's twin planet also known as Antiterra) New York is known as Manhattan and Manhattan is sometimes shortened to Man.