Subject
RJ:"Time & Ebb" & "Conversations Piece"
Date
Body
EDITOR'S NOTE. Roy Johnson <Roy@mantex.demon.co.uk> continues his
discussion series on VN's short stories. Your comments are invitated.
------------------------------------------
This message was originally submitted by Roy@MANTEX.DEMON.CO.UK to the NABOKV-L
list at UCSBVM.UCSB.EDU. If you simply forward it back to the list, using a
mail command that generates "Resent-" fields (ask your local user support or
consult the documentation of your mail program if in doubt), it will be
distributed and the explanations you are now reading will be removed
automatically. If on the other hand you edit the contributions you receive into
a digest, you will have to remove this paragraph manually. Finally, you should
be able to contact the author of this message by using the normal "reply"
function of your mail program.
--------------------------------------------
This week's stories - TIME AND EBB
CONVERSATION PIECE
--------------------------------------------
'Time and Ebb' (August 1944) reflects Nabokov's enthusiasm for
his newly adopted America in a manner similar to that which his
earliest stories of the 1920s showed his enjoyment of the
material world of Berlin, his first place of permanent exile. The
piece toys with his long term interest in time and memory, but
hardly even pretends to be a story: it is not much more than an
exercise in his increasingly complex prose style dressed up as
a memoir.
In it an unnamed ninety year old narrator thinks back from some
time in the twenty-first century to his arrival in America from
Europe in the mid 1940s. His topics are soda parlours, trains,
aeroplanes, skyscrapers, and anything which presents a novelty
to the European. (This positive appreciation of what is new is
undoubtedly one of the characteristics which helped Nabokov to
survive an entire adult life spent in exile.) But the lack of any
narrative impulse is reflected in some of the extreme contortions
of syntax and prose rhythm:
"The trees had their latin binomials displayed upon
their trunks, just as the drivers of the squat, gaudy,
scaraboid motor-cabs (generically allied in my mind to
certain equally gaudy automatic machines upon the
musical constipation of which the insertion of a small
coin used to act as a miraculous laxative) had their
stale photographic pictures affixed to their backs"
(ND,p.163)
This has all the hallmarks of the style which would eventually
produce the rococo constructions of *Look at the Harlequins!* and
*Ada* - the insistent use of alliteration and assonance, the
complex syntax, long periods with huge subordinate clauses and
parentheses, the rich vocabulary dotted with recondite and semi-
technical terms, and the twinning and parallelism. When these
devices were held in restraint by the structural and narrational
demands of a story-to-be-told, the result could be the creation
of masterpieces such as *Lolita*, but even his warmest supporters
would probably concede that at times this mannerism can become
inflated and tiresome.
Nabokov believed that literature should not be made to serve as
political propaganda, since in doing so it would become
aesthetically damaged. He seems to forget that his own works
which speak against tyranny and in favour of liberal humanism
(*Invitation to a Beheading*, 'Tyrants Destroyed') are propaganda
of a kind - but his belief is justified in the eyes of those who
believe that these are amongst his weakest works. Certainly his
last story of this type, 'Conversation Piece' (April 1945) falls
into this category, since the purpose at its centre is to send
out a political warning. It is interesting to note in this
context of overt didactics [strong opinions!] damaging
aesthetics, that the story features two elements which rate
highly amongst Nabokov's own prejudices - Germans, and women.
The story begins with what looks like a return to the double
theme. The narrator informs us that he has an exact namesake -
"complete from nickname to surname" (ND,p.125) - with whom he has
sometimes been confused. But this strategy is used only as a plot
device to get the narrator to a gathering in Boston to which he
has been invited by mistake. There, a group of gullible and
elderly American women are being addressed by a German professor,
Dr Shoe. In his speech he seeks to reconcile America and Germany
immediately after the end of the war by pouring suspicion onto
Britain, claiming that Nazi atrocities are just allied propaganda
lies, that German soldiers were clean, decent, and honourable,
and that people should not be misled by "the vivid Semitic
imagination which controls the American press" (p.136). The
narrator complains to the hostess about Dr Shoe and leaves in
disgust, but then a week later he receives a letter from his
namesake reproaching him for his bad behaviour at the meeting and
ending with a demand for money.
The problems here are that the story is little more than a
synopsis of Dr Shoe's reactionary propaganda; none of the
characters are developed; and there is almost no connection
between the double device and what happens at the meeting -
except to underscore the reactionary company the narrator's
double keeps, which we already know at the beginning of the
story.
It is difficult to find a sympathetically portrayed German in the
whole of Nabokov's fiction, and as Andrew Field points out in
confronting this phenomenon "Were it not for the events of this
century, Nabokov's attitude towards things German might be
regarded as whimsically as Dr Johnson's attitude towards
Scotsmen" (LA,p.206).
But the same might also be said about women - using Dr Johnson
as a parallel in this case too. Some of his female characters are
idealised love objects, but more often they are adulteresses
(Martha in *King Queen Knave*) tormentors-of-men (Margot in
*Laughter in the Dark*) or dim-witted vulgarians (Lydia in
*Despair*). The problem for the humanist reader is that Nabokov
covers his prejudices with very witty presentation:
"None of the women were pretty; all had reached or
over-reached forty-five...All looked cheerfully
sterile. Possibly some of them had had children, but
how they had produced them was a forgotten mystery;
many had found substitutes for creative power in
various aesthetic pursuits, such as, for instance, the
beautifying of committee rooms" (p.131)
It is fortunate for admirers of Nabokov's work that such overt
misogyny is rare - and that such wit is ubiquitous.
------------------------------------------------
Next week's story - SIGNS AND SYMBOLS
------------------------------------------------
--
Dr Roy Johnson | Roy@mantex.demon.co.uk
PO Box 100 | Tel +44 0161 432 5811
Manchester UK | Fax +44 0161 443 2766
discussion series on VN's short stories. Your comments are invitated.
------------------------------------------
This message was originally submitted by Roy@MANTEX.DEMON.CO.UK to the NABOKV-L
list at UCSBVM.UCSB.EDU. If you simply forward it back to the list, using a
mail command that generates "Resent-" fields (ask your local user support or
consult the documentation of your mail program if in doubt), it will be
distributed and the explanations you are now reading will be removed
automatically. If on the other hand you edit the contributions you receive into
a digest, you will have to remove this paragraph manually. Finally, you should
be able to contact the author of this message by using the normal "reply"
function of your mail program.
--------------------------------------------
This week's stories - TIME AND EBB
CONVERSATION PIECE
--------------------------------------------
'Time and Ebb' (August 1944) reflects Nabokov's enthusiasm for
his newly adopted America in a manner similar to that which his
earliest stories of the 1920s showed his enjoyment of the
material world of Berlin, his first place of permanent exile. The
piece toys with his long term interest in time and memory, but
hardly even pretends to be a story: it is not much more than an
exercise in his increasingly complex prose style dressed up as
a memoir.
In it an unnamed ninety year old narrator thinks back from some
time in the twenty-first century to his arrival in America from
Europe in the mid 1940s. His topics are soda parlours, trains,
aeroplanes, skyscrapers, and anything which presents a novelty
to the European. (This positive appreciation of what is new is
undoubtedly one of the characteristics which helped Nabokov to
survive an entire adult life spent in exile.) But the lack of any
narrative impulse is reflected in some of the extreme contortions
of syntax and prose rhythm:
"The trees had their latin binomials displayed upon
their trunks, just as the drivers of the squat, gaudy,
scaraboid motor-cabs (generically allied in my mind to
certain equally gaudy automatic machines upon the
musical constipation of which the insertion of a small
coin used to act as a miraculous laxative) had their
stale photographic pictures affixed to their backs"
(ND,p.163)
This has all the hallmarks of the style which would eventually
produce the rococo constructions of *Look at the Harlequins!* and
*Ada* - the insistent use of alliteration and assonance, the
complex syntax, long periods with huge subordinate clauses and
parentheses, the rich vocabulary dotted with recondite and semi-
technical terms, and the twinning and parallelism. When these
devices were held in restraint by the structural and narrational
demands of a story-to-be-told, the result could be the creation
of masterpieces such as *Lolita*, but even his warmest supporters
would probably concede that at times this mannerism can become
inflated and tiresome.
Nabokov believed that literature should not be made to serve as
political propaganda, since in doing so it would become
aesthetically damaged. He seems to forget that his own works
which speak against tyranny and in favour of liberal humanism
(*Invitation to a Beheading*, 'Tyrants Destroyed') are propaganda
of a kind - but his belief is justified in the eyes of those who
believe that these are amongst his weakest works. Certainly his
last story of this type, 'Conversation Piece' (April 1945) falls
into this category, since the purpose at its centre is to send
out a political warning. It is interesting to note in this
context of overt didactics [strong opinions!] damaging
aesthetics, that the story features two elements which rate
highly amongst Nabokov's own prejudices - Germans, and women.
The story begins with what looks like a return to the double
theme. The narrator informs us that he has an exact namesake -
"complete from nickname to surname" (ND,p.125) - with whom he has
sometimes been confused. But this strategy is used only as a plot
device to get the narrator to a gathering in Boston to which he
has been invited by mistake. There, a group of gullible and
elderly American women are being addressed by a German professor,
Dr Shoe. In his speech he seeks to reconcile America and Germany
immediately after the end of the war by pouring suspicion onto
Britain, claiming that Nazi atrocities are just allied propaganda
lies, that German soldiers were clean, decent, and honourable,
and that people should not be misled by "the vivid Semitic
imagination which controls the American press" (p.136). The
narrator complains to the hostess about Dr Shoe and leaves in
disgust, but then a week later he receives a letter from his
namesake reproaching him for his bad behaviour at the meeting and
ending with a demand for money.
The problems here are that the story is little more than a
synopsis of Dr Shoe's reactionary propaganda; none of the
characters are developed; and there is almost no connection
between the double device and what happens at the meeting -
except to underscore the reactionary company the narrator's
double keeps, which we already know at the beginning of the
story.
It is difficult to find a sympathetically portrayed German in the
whole of Nabokov's fiction, and as Andrew Field points out in
confronting this phenomenon "Were it not for the events of this
century, Nabokov's attitude towards things German might be
regarded as whimsically as Dr Johnson's attitude towards
Scotsmen" (LA,p.206).
But the same might also be said about women - using Dr Johnson
as a parallel in this case too. Some of his female characters are
idealised love objects, but more often they are adulteresses
(Martha in *King Queen Knave*) tormentors-of-men (Margot in
*Laughter in the Dark*) or dim-witted vulgarians (Lydia in
*Despair*). The problem for the humanist reader is that Nabokov
covers his prejudices with very witty presentation:
"None of the women were pretty; all had reached or
over-reached forty-five...All looked cheerfully
sterile. Possibly some of them had had children, but
how they had produced them was a forgotten mystery;
many had found substitutes for creative power in
various aesthetic pursuits, such as, for instance, the
beautifying of committee rooms" (p.131)
It is fortunate for admirers of Nabokov's work that such overt
misogyny is rare - and that such wit is ubiquitous.
------------------------------------------------
Next week's story - SIGNS AND SYMBOLS
------------------------------------------------
--
Dr Roy Johnson | Roy@mantex.demon.co.uk
PO Box 100 | Tel +44 0161 432 5811
Manchester UK | Fax +44 0161 443 2766