PLEASE POST IN
REPLY TO CAROLYN KUNIN'S POSTED
QUERY
Dear
Carolyn,
I have no further intercourse with Professor
Johnson, for reasons I'll be glad to explain to you privately. But I shall
gladly make this exception to reply to your
query.
The
Next Swan story, as told by Walter Slezak, is very likely true, but I can't
vouch for its authenticity since I wasn't there. Like many comical
happenings in opera and other domains, it has become traditional, with
different variants and other attributions (or none). Examples of
other funny stories and questions: 1) A voice from the gallery
to an unfortunate tenor, astonished at calls for a third encore of his
aria: "You'll keep doing it over until you get it right!". 2) In
a performance of Don Giovanni, I, as the Commendatore, was backing
upstage after uttering a final, fateful invitation to the Don (Justino
Diaz). On my way I stepped on the trapdoor which was to open soon for
the Don's descent through fire and smoke into hell. A stagehand, perhaps
blinded by an excess of that smoke, prematurely pressed the "open" button. Just
as I felt the earth moving under my feet, Leporello (Fernando Corena)
noticed, and signalled to the agile Diaz who, with an improvised leap, nudged me
to safety. 3) How many
cockeyed Russian academics does it take to offend the memory of Vladmir
Nabokov on Lolita's 50th birthday? 3) How many she-scholars with
names beginning with "J" or "P" does it take to make insulting
incestuous conjectures about the origins of Nabokov's plots? 4)
How many fuddy-duddy editors does it take to censor writings by individuals
including Vladimir Nabokov in the land of the free, of the brave, and of the
First Amendment?
Incidentally, the swan anecdote was fashionable in the
party talk of the 1930s and 40s, and even typical in some circles. Father and I
did discuss it, and he told me he deliberately adapted it for his book --
hardly what I would call plagiarism. Another thing I clearly remember him
telling Mother and me, while imagining what future morons might
make of the vague resemblance, is that the news story about Sally
Horner and the mechanic had nothing to do with
Lolita.
With
best wishes,
Dmitri
Nabokov
From: D. Barton Johnson
[mailto:chtodel@cox.net]
Sent: Saturday, March 27, 2004 11:54
AM
To: NABOKV-L@LISTSERV.UCSB.EDU
Subject: Fw: Speaking of
plagiarism -- a query for Dmitri
----- Original Message -----
Sent: Saturday, March 27, 2004 7:42 AM
Subject: Speaking of plagiarism -- a query for
Dmitri
An interesting example of how
tricky the concept of "plagiarism" can be came up recently in a private
conversation with Jansy in Brazil. We were discussing Lohengrin as a
grail story and Jansy told me how funny she found Nabokov's joke about missing
the swan (-boat) in Laughter in the Dark.
But that's not Nabokov's
joke, it is a famous anecdote from the career of the wonderful tenor Leo Slezak
(1873 - 1946). I thought it would be interesting to compare the two jokes and to
ask Dmitri if he (almost as big an opera singer as the 6'7" Slezak) can cast any
light on the subject.
Laughter in the
Dark:
Miller licked his chops and sat down again. Then he
smiled, and in a new good-natured manner launched into a funny story about
some friend of his, an opera singer who once, in the part of Lohengrin, being
tight, failed to board the swan in time and waited hopefully for the next
one.
What Time's the Next Swan?
by Walter Slezak (as told to Smith-Corona Model 88E)
Papa told ... about a Lohengrin performance. It
was just before his first entrance. He was ready to step into the boat, which,
drawn by a swan was to take him on stage. Somehow the stagehand on the other
side got his signals mixed, started pulling, and the swan left without Papa.
He quietly turned around [to the audience] and said: "What time's the next
swan?"
Carolyn