There's not anything wrong with Moore's story from a moral standpoint; Nabokov did this sort of thing himself, echoing, re-working, parodying all manner of sources (as others have noted), even himself--Look At The Harlequins! is so auto-referential the reader in the know may have a hard time enjoying anything beyond recognizing the Nabokovian variations, and this is what happens to Moore's story I think--One finds oneself looking for, and anticipating, points of contact between the stories; the effect of this is that the more sophisticated you are the less life the present story has--Clearly the links between works, in effect whole passages, is meant to mirror the kooky mania of Nabokov's story, literally put the reader
into the position of N's insane boy, with everything signs and symbols of something else beyond--The problem is that this element hasn't really been wired into her own story's themes as it is in Nabokov, just hangs there a gimmicky byproduct, probably because she removed the subtly paranoid uncanny element of the original's ending, making her work a dull, if occasionally well written piece of this-is-the-way-we-live-now-realism--If one doesn't know Nabokov I suspect Moore's story's emotional situation--the boy in the mental hospital, the mother, the wayward boyfriend--will probably be more affecting, though the end just comes across as an unlikely ironic twist thrown in to score points off the boyfriend character and make the mother seem more putupon--The mother's little intuitive leap about who made the phone call is just miles away from the stakes of the creeping dread in Nabokov, and leaves slightly confused as to who exactly we should feel for in
this story, and why--
An interesting tidbit: in the issue of The New Yorker before the one with Moore's story (May 21, 2012), she had printed a review of Richard Ford's latest novel Canada in which she makes a gratuitous reference to Nabokov (pg73), saying Ford's lyrical writing is "the reverse of, say, Nabokov's tight, pebble-hearted poetry" which I wasn't sure how to take: was this a cut or was it laudatory? Was it even apposite? I was still thinking about this when the issue with "Referential" came out and realized the phrase must have been intended by Moore to describe Nabokov's jeweled precision and economy as a poet, despite the "pebble-hearted"'s connoting a quality of heartless cruelty--The slightly off quality of this remark hovers over her story as well, which though it has has not been fully worked through--Now I'm off to read her interview--
From: Nabokv-L <nabokv-l@UTK.EDU>
To: NABOKV-L@LISTSERV.UCSB.EDU
Sent: Wed, June 6, 2012 1:12:49 PM
Subject: Re: [NABOKV-L] Take-offs, Ripoffs, Homages, etc
A few thoughts on homages, tributes, adaptations, take-offs, and the
like:
I am really not much of a fan of the art of the review. It's a bias I
have. For me, the perfect and complete content of an artistic or
literary review would be either: a) must see (read); b) maybe skip, or
not; or c) silence.
In her interview with Deborah Treisman, Lorrie Moore makes it extremely
clear that her intent with this story was to pay an open homage to
Nabokov, for those who can recognize it. I'll discuss those who can't
recognize it in a moment.
Seems to me there are a few different topics worth considering.
1. The story's merits, as a piece of literary art and as homage: I'm
surprised that some are offended that the story is not as good as VN's
original. Moore calls "Signs and Symbols" "perfect" and Nabokov
"unparalleled." She does not seem to have pretenses that she is on
Nabokov's level. I felt that some of her original formulations and
images were exquisite in their own right, while some others were a bit
flat. On the whole, flashes of verbal brilliance, I thought, but not
really close to Nabokov's level. I don't think that's surprising or
necessarily bad (that the
New Yorker should publish lesser
fiction than VN's). How many living authors are there who write at
that level? I have no idea, but I would bet, in English, it is between
zero and three. Other, more mortal voices can also produce things of
beauty and worthy of attention. As someone with knowledge of the
original, I felt that I was being asked specifically to re-appreciate
that story, and to consider its translation into slightly different
contexts, with one example provided. I don't feel like or have time
for enumerating its specific strengths (which would be worth doing) or
weaknesses (probably not worth doing), but I did feel that the story
has its own legitimacy, its own coherence, and its own set of concerns,
separate from VN's, but always acknowledging his presence. On the
whole, a worthwhile read. (I think any "adaptation"--including,
especially, film--is always very hard to take for a true devotee of the
original; it is nearly impossible to suspend one's devotion, I think.
Whatever its merits, the Marleen Gorris
Luzhin Defense drives
me nuts with its departures).
2. Tradition: the tradition of spinning a yarn from someone else's is a
long one. Recent examples include
Roger's Version by John
Updike (after
The Scarlet Letter), and in some respects
Lolita
itself, although Nabokov both hid his sources more deeply and
expanded upon them more exuberantly than is typical in this particular
tradition. Matei Calinescu discusses Updike's multiple approaches to
Hawthorne in his article
"Secrecy
in Fiction: Textual and Intertextual Secrets in Hawthorne and Updike"
Poetics Today, Vol. 15, No. 3 (Autumn, 1994), pp. 443-465; Stable URL:
http://www.jstor.org/stable/1773318, as an example of "rereading
for the secret," but also as a call to reread Hawthorne. Significantly
to the present discussion, Calinescu reports that Updike's
acknowledgments of his source are in out-of-the-way paratexts, and are
not (or at least were not, for several years) included in mass-market
editions of
Roger's Version.
3. "Genius has only itself to copy," VN said in response to a comment
by Clarence Brown. Gogol, legend has it (as Gogol himself reported),
got his plot-problems for
Dead Souls and
The Government
Inspector from Pushkin. Perhaps
Despair's Ardalion is our
best guide here: maybe finding what
is unique, new, and worthy
of attention in Moore's story (what makes it different from Nabokov's,
rather than its [convincing or unconvincing] similarities) is the most
enriching task. And then, I'm sure Moore would suggest, we should
reread the original.
4. What about the reader who doesn't recognize or know Nabokov's story
behind Moore's? Let's imagine such a reader, or maybe two such
readers. Reader A, quickly disposed of, reads the story, has little
reaction to it, soon forgets it and moves on. Reader B loves the
story, rereads it, but forgets to follow up on the
New Yorker
web site to learn that it is based on Nabokov. This reader mentions
the story to a few friends, or seeks out more information about the
author, and one way or another learns about "Signs and Symbols," and,
perhaps, the whole world of Nabokov's short-story writing. Curiosity
does its job and is rewarded.
The interview with the author is here:
http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2012/05/this-week-in-fiction-lorrie-moore.html#entry-more
There are currently 11 comments following the interview.
Stephen Blackwell
All private editorial communications are
read by both co-editors.