When the bride is a
window and the groom is a widower; when the former has lived in Our
Great Little Town for hardly two years, and the latter for hardly a
month; when Monsieur wants to get the whole damned thing over with as
quickly as possible, and Madame gives in with a tolerant smile; then,
my reader, the wedding is generally a "quiet" affair. The
bride may dispense with a tiara of orange blossoms securing her
finger-tip veil, nor does she carry a white orchid in a prayer book.
The bride's little daughter might have added to the ceremonies uniting
H. and H. a touch of vivid vermeil; but I knew I would not dare be too
tender with cornered Lolita yet, and therefore agreed it was not worth
while tearing the child away from her beloved Camp Q.
A friend of mine has do a reading at a
wedding. She has trawled through most
of English literature for something suitable, but hasn't found
anything that
is just right - something general about the nature of love or the
meeting of
hearts and minds, etc. Is there anything that springs to mind in
Nabokov
that could perhaps be deemed suitable for such an occasion? The text
needn't
be more than half a page or so.
TA Colquhoun
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