Vladimir Nabokov

NABOKV-L post 0025328, Wed, 23 Apr 2014 14:11:43 -0700

Subject
Re: RES: [NABOKV-L] BIRTHDAY: Many happy returns (in Speak,
Memory)
Date
Body
So what's to cause gloating? double entendres?


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From: Jansy Mello <jansy.mello@OUTLOOK.COM>
To: NABOKV-L@LISTSERV.UCSB.EDU
Sent: Wednesday, April 23, 2014 2:03 PM
Subject: [NABOKV-L] RES: [NABOKV-L] BIRTHDAY: Many happy returns (in Speak, Memory)



Dear Carolyn,
 
I haven’t checked it but I trust my memory in this case. The uncle was leafing through a collection of books from the “Bibliothèque Rose” (for young ladies, I think, at least the Brazilian edition is called “Coleção Menina e Moça,” but from where Les Desastres de Sophie are absent)  
 
De:Vladimir Nabokov Forum [mailto:NABOKV-L@LISTSERV.UCSB.EDU] Em nome de Carolyn Kunin
Enviada em: quarta-feira, 23 de abril de 2014 13:45
Para: NABOKV-L@LISTSERV.UCSB.EDU
Assunto: Re: [NABOKV-L] BIRTHDAY: Many happy returns (in Speak, Memory)
 
Dear SES,
 
But that gloating  uncle - what kind of a book would he be gloating over? it does seem as if a snake is lurking already in the garden.
 
Carolyn
 

________________________________

From:"NABOKV-L, English" <nabokv-l@HOLYCROSS.EDU>
To: NABOKV-L@LISTSERV.UCSB.EDU
Sent: Wednesday, April 23, 2014 4:24 AM
Subject: [NABOKV-L] BIRTHDAY: Many happy returns (in Speak, Memory)
 
Happy Birthday, Vladimir Vladimirovich!

And speaking of happiness, a theme that I propose that we also celebrate today, here's one of my favorite passages from Speak, Memory:
 
I see again my schoolroom in Vyra,the blue roses of the wallpaper, the open window.  Its reflection fills the oval mirror above the leathern couch where my uncle sits, gloating over a tattered book.  A sense of security, of well-being, of summer warmth pervades my memory.  That robust reality makes a ghost of the present.  The mirror brims with brightness; a bumblebee has entered the room and bumps against the ceiling.  Everything is as it should be, nothing will ever change, nobody will ever die.
I love the mirror that reflects the window, brimming with brightness, and the bumping bumblebee (as well as the alliterative b's that suggest its sound).  Those sweeping statements at the end ("everything is," "nothing will ever," "nobody will ever") are for me the very essence of how happiness feels -- even as their wistful untruth poignantly suggests its limitation.
 
:) SES

--
Susan Elizabeth Sweeney
Co-Editor, NABOKV-L
 
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