Thanks for the ride Vlad. The journey has just begun and I look forward to the trip. Someday, I will reread Lolita. Maybe then I will be able to understand what all of the fuss is about. In the meantime I look forward to reading The Original of Laura.

The End Notes

- Plato's Republic-banned poets because they are liars and crazy
- James (Index of Transparent Things-must read)
- litteral level, Analogical level, Moral level, Anagogical level-4 Levels of Interpretation

Anagogical is the ultimate level of interpretation (mystical)

- Doubt is the complement of fate

What speaks to us across our own death?

- language in the Bible is the language of love
- writer writes for himself or a very close circle of friends-Lit 431 is Nabokov's circle

My To Read List

I can't wait to read this book. I feel that it is a very beautifully put together work. I can't wait to get my own copy and yes I intend to tear it apart when reading but we shall see. I have a hard time when the spines of my novels are broken. The cover of this book has a very mysterious feel about it. I am therefore inclined to believe that the actu

al written words inside will be a sort of mystery and I look forward to solving it slowly.

Lackluster, Lovable Lads and a Semester of Joy

I have found that Nabokov has a joy of taking what should be a seemingly average character type and making them into something close to extraordinary. I say this fully believing that if I were to read the rest of his works all of his main characters would be very average "Joes". He does this on purpose. Humbert Humbert is just a normal professor type who happens to like little girls because he can't get over his childhood love. Now, any average day to day man could have a thing for little girls and most people would be repulsed but for some reason (which I can't or maybe stubbornly refuse to explain) readers have sympathy for Humbert and yes, they even like him to some extent or other. 

Then there is dear Kinbote. He is just this poor schmuck who fancies him self royalty. He is a bit arrogant and rather convincing in his portrayal of himself as deposed royalty. He is that guy at the party that no one can stand to talk to. Who's to blame? Shade on the other hand is the guy that most of us have worked with at some point in life. He is a creative type, perhaps genius, but he may not be some one you would introduce to your normal social circle. To me, he seems a tad socially awkward. It is apparent that he would prefer to spend his time writing and that is okay. We like that about him.

Finally there is Hugh Person. He is the epitome of dull American. He has very little passion in life with the exception of tennis and Armande. And let's not even discuss how he was able to bag a super model for a wife because that is beyond my comprehension. He is lackluster at best but for some reason we like him. It is as though he is that lost puppy that you bring home in hopes that mom and dad will let you keep it. We can't help but cheer for his success with a super hot chick. Go Hugh! You the MAN!  

What I am trying to say is that it is nice to see an ordinary dude be the center of attention (most times). His stories are fresh in that they don't follow the typical cycle of creation (a clear cut and dry story). He likes to delight us with characters that are not larger than life and stories that could be the very meaning of ordinary. Overall, it has been a delightful semester reading about Hugh, You, Me, Kinbote, Shade, Lo, H.H, and let's not forget Gradus, and Clare. Hats off to you Mr. Nabokov, I look forward to reading more.

Gradus

He sits in the dim light of a poorly decorated hotel room. He had done his work and he had done it splendidly—or so he thought. After completing his mission he had left in a manner that did not arouse suspicion for that is how he had been trained.

“Don’t run,” his superiors had told him. “Running attracts attention and attention will be unwanted during the missions you will be on.”

This advice he had taken to heart and lived by it. ‘Don’t run’ had saved his life too many times to count.

So, he had walked away—headed back to town. He had bought a newspaper along the way and found a café to sit and relax. Really, the day had been pleasant. The news had been…inconsequential for the most part. Finally, he had returned to his hotel room. The day that he completed his mission he made the decision to stay stateside for awhile to see what the U.S. had to offer in the way of entertainment and relaxation. So, far it had been a disappointment. In his disappointment and disgust he had gone in search of a means to an end. He didn’t know exactly what kind of entertainment he was looking for but he did not expect it to be a novel. But that is what he found.

“Pale Fire,” he read. “When did this novel come out?” he asked the clerk at the bookstore. “Yesterday,” she replied. “It is supposed to be a delightful read,” she remarked in an off handed way.

As he stood there examining the cover of the novel, something, deep down inside of him, told him that he should take the time to read this particular novel. Feelings. He learned early in his life that he should always trust his feelings. So, he purchased the novel and made his way back to his dreary, small town, American hotel. He flicked on the bedside lamp and made himself comfortable on the bed. He opened the book. Finally, in the wee hours of pre-dawn he closed the book. He had been unable to put the novel down not even when he felt the urge to relieve himself.

Now he sits in the dim half light of early morning fully absorbing the information he had just read. The king was still alive! He had assassinated the wrong man! This was a debacle—the first of his life, excluding the one mentioned in the novel by that pompous king Charles. The king didn’t even tell the story properly. As he remembers it he was forced into the debacle and then later blamed for it. The king wouldn’t know that thought, but he was obviously willing to think that he did.

“One day in his early youth,” penned Kinbote “ when he worked as messenger boy fro a large and deqressing firm of cardboard box manufacturers, he quietly helped three companions to ambush a local lad whom they wished to beat up for winning a motorcycle at a fair.” (150)

“Yes, that is how the story started,” Gradus acknowledged to himself.

As he sat there in the ever increasing daylight that day from his youth sprung to life. The memory was as clear as if it had just happened yesterday. Gradus had been let go from work early that day and so he had decided to head to the park that was just off the main square in Onhava. He had just found a nice patch of shade under the largest weeping willow he had ever seen. He was settling down for nice nap when his buddies had found him. They were excited about something that much Gradus had been able to discern.

Yury, Boris, and Vladimir all piled on to the grass next to Gradus and for a time they were all content to just sit there and relax enjoying the shade. Eventually, Vladimir stirred—he had an idea, Gradus could tell. Vladimir was easily identified as the ring-leader, he always came up with the ideas—usually good ones.

“Damn Lorrainers,” snorted Vladimir. “They think they are so much better than us humble folk of Onhava.” Now Vladimir was really in a mood. “Come here to our fair, prizes that should rightfully go to Onhavans, and then what do they do?” Vladimir was starting to get worked up.

“They flaunt their winnings in front of us.” It isn’t right,” he mumbled darkly.

“We should do something about,” was Yury’s comment.

“That is your answer for everything, Yury,” replied Boris, rolling his eyes

Gradus distinctly remember this minute detail. They say it is the small details that people remember most and this time Gradus was aware of how true that statement really was.

“I’ve got it.” That was Vladimir. “Let’s ambush him. With the four of us we will be able to give him a proper beating. One fit for a Lorrainer.” Vladimir was now deep in thought, picturing every bruise the Lorrainer would receive by his hand.

So, they had sat there in the pleasant shade of a mid-Onhavan afternoon and planned the assault. In theory it had been perfect, but in practice it had been terribly flawed. The king had gotten the next part right for the most part:

“Gradus obtained an axe and directed the felling of a tree: it crashed improperly, though not quite blocking the country lane down which their carefree prey used to ride in the growing dusk.” (150)

This was true; the king had gotten this fact right in his novel. However, he was wrong when it came to the actual fight. Gradus had not fallen asleep like the king suggested in his novel. On the contrary, he had been as wound as Vladimir himself. When it came time to actually jump the unwary Lorrainer, Gradus had caught his foot on a tree root and tripped. Well luck would have that was when he fell hitting his head on a rock, knocking him unconscious and therefore unable to help deliver the beating. His friends did receive the beating that the king said they did. It was terrible really, for they never really forgave Gradus for being a klutz, especially Vladimir.

“If you hadn’t been so stupid Gradus, we would have had him,” snarled Vladimir. “This is all your fault, the blame is yours to bear.”That had been the last day Gradus had seen his buddies.

“He was better off without them,” Gradus thought as his hotel surrounding came flooding back.

He checked the time it was almost noon. He had been reminiscing for the entire morning. He was back to reality now and he needed a plan. He could not return to Zembla without completing his mission. That was not how he operated and the Shadows would not be forgiving. He knew what he must do.

He sat down and wrote a short message to the Shadows:

The king has proven a more slippery foe than I thought possible. He has recently eluded my grasp but left his trail blatantly obvious. I will not return to Zembla until I have completed my mission. I will return with proof of his demise.

Gradus

Gradus packed his belongings into his bag; he stepped out of his rented, “mom and pop” hotel room. He knew what he had to do and where he had to go. The king had slipped through his grasp for the last time. This time he would not rest until the king was dead. Then he would return home to Onhava and never leave. For now, home would have to wait. Utana was where he was headed.

I thought that since Mr. Frost has been mentioned so much in class lately, I would do the honor of giving him a home on my blog. I like this particular picture because I like to think that this is how his thought process worked. He just reminds me of some one that could give us all a little more knowledge. This is the face of a man who has witnessed many adventures...In my humble opinion.

On Gradus

I found an interesting tidbit about the name Jack. If we use the French form of the name, Jacques, we will find the name means "he who supplants." 

The definition of supplant:to take the place of (another), as through force, scheming, strategy, or the like; to replace (one thing) by something else.

So, Kinbote has replace Jack with Gradus. I'm not sure yet where I am going with this idea... 

Continued Myopia in Nabokov

"Some of the pranksters were much younger tan the King, but this did not matter since his pictures in the huts of mountain folks and in the myopic shops of hamlets, where you could buy worms, ginger bread and zhiletka blades, had not aged since his coronation." (99)

Hmmm....Nabokov seems to be very familiar with this word and it's meaning. I must keep track.

Pablo Picasso: Boy Leading Horse

I think this is the painting that Kinbote mentions on page 83.

Myopic Humbert

A man who is as self-assured as Humbert Humbert should not act dense. Throughout the entire novel readers are reassured time after time of Humberts’s intelligence. So, it seems odd that he is unable to read the clues left by his nemesis, Clare Quilty. Perhaps Humbert has poor vision which hindered his ability to piece together the puzzle. Now, the idea of Humbert’s vision being bad is never given directly, but rather indirectly. Although, we should not consider his vision bad but myopic, and when we examine the definition of myopic we learn that it means—essentially—nearsighted, shortsighted, and narrow-minded. All of which easily pertain to Humbert but Nabokov only gives us the clues of his myopia while referencing Dolores. Humbert is telling us that the reason he experiences myopia is because he was distracted by Lolita.

During the two trips that Humbert and Lolita went on he was pretty much a happy camper, with the exception of the end of the second trip when he was sure that everywhere he went he was being followed by someone. Other than that he did not notice the clues until he went back over his trip and then he noticed all sorts of evidence left by Quilty. However, Humbert still seems to be unable to plainly lay the blame all on his own shoulders. He has to drag Dolores into by letting us believe that her distracting qualities were the only reason why he did not notice Quilty sooner. Humbert would have us believe that Lolita is myopically challenged when he says:

“I had seen that kind of thing in children before but, by God, this was a special child, myopically beaming at the already remote stage where I glimpsed something of the joint authors—a man’s tuxedo and the bare shoulders of a hawk-like, black-haired, strikingly tall woman” (221).

This comes to us on a page that is graced with clues about Clare Quilty. Lolita is throwing Humbert for a loop and he does not even realize it, and since his a learned man it could be said that maybe he is embarrassed that he did not see the hints sooner. But instead of directly telling us he has to hint at it by describing Lolita’s vision as myopic when in all actuality he is the one who is shortsighted.

Once the novel has been read Humbert can be seen as somewhat predictable. By the end of the novel readers are not surprised to learn that Humbert still does not know who stole Lolita away from him and he needs Lolita to tell him. Well, we are back to myopia—believe it or not. We are aware of his shortsightedness again just after Lolita tells him that she was taken by Quilty. Humbert says:

“No matter, even if those eyes of hers would fade to myopic fish, and her nipples swell and crack, and her lovely young velvety delicate delta be tainted and torn—even then I would go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of your dear wan face, at the mere sound of your raucous young voice, my Lolita” (278).

She is not the one who has to worry about her eyes fading into “myopic fish.” Humbert knows that it is his eyes that are doomed but, he cannot come out and admit that to anyone. This is the point of the novel where he realizes that he has been so stupid—or, perhaps, narrow-minded is a better word.

Humbert Humbert is supposed to be one of those characters that readers can relate with even though he is essentially a villain. However, it is hard to relate with him at times because he often fails to see the “reality” of things and when that happens he seems very content to place fault with other characters. In the end, poor Humbert Humbert cannot seem to outwit a man with supposedly less intelligence than himself. His comeback—a gun.

Things That Annoy Me

"Lines 1-4: I was the shadow of the waxwing slain, etc.

the image in these opening lines evidently refers toa bird knocking itself out, in full flight, against the outer surface of a glass pane in which a mirrored sky..." (73)

Thankyou Captain Obvious! I can read a poem. On a more serious note, I just love how Kinbote says that lines 1-4 evidently refer to a bird knocking itself out. What else would these lines refer to? I can't figure it out, and I have re-read these lines multiple times trying to figure out any other possible meaning. I can't find any.

I enjoyed reading Brittini's paper about Lolita and Nefertiti. While I sat reading Lolita I did notice all the references to the sun but I never had the imagination to make the connection between the Egyptian Sun God that Nefertiti worshipped and Humbert Humbert's worship of Lolita. I think Brittini did a brilliant job of making a very interesting connection.

Pale Fire

So, I guess I am one of Nabokov's biggest critics in this class. However, I will first start by saying that Pale Fire is a vast improvement over Lolita. I enjoy reading poetry, so naturally I assumed that this would be an enjoyable read but I am having a hard time understanding why Pale Fire so enjoyable for people. On the other hand I am enjoying the slight dyslexic tendencies that I have encountered. Unlike Lolita I am actually interested in making discoveries in this piece. I will keep posting as I read more in depth.

Vlad and Rocko's Modern Life

//www.youtube.com/watch?v=YiRhIozmfzE

Pay close attention to all of the credits. What do you see?

Elphinstone (223)Lolita


The County of Elphinstone, Queensland

Alexander Elphinstone 1st Lord of Elphinstone (followed by 6 more Alexander Elphinstones, all Lords of Elphinston)

6 John Elphinstones all Lords of Elphinstone

2 Charles Elphinstones

1 William

1Sidney

1 James

Currently

Alexander Mountstuart Elphinstone, 19th Lord of Elphinstone (b. 1980)
Heir Presumptive - Hon. Angus John Elphinstone, Master of Elphinstone (b. 1982)


Wace (251) Lolita

Wace (c. 1115 – c. 1183) was an Anglo-Norman poet, who was born in Jersey (a British Crown Dependancy of the coast of Normandy), and brought up in mainland Normandy (he tells us in the Roman de Rou that he was taken as a child to Caen), ending his career as Canon of Bayeux.

Wace and Elphinstone are two towns in the novel that are realtively close to eachother, distance-wise.

MYOPIC

Adjective

1. Ophthalmology. pertaining to or having myopia; nearsighted.
2. unable or unwilling to act prudently; shortsighted.
3. lacking tolerance or understanding; narrow-minded.

Nabokov uses this word a couple of times at least. Example: "I had seen that kind of thing in children before but, by God, this was a special child, myopically beaming at the already remote stage where i glimpsed somthing of the joint authors..." (221)

"No matter, even if those eyees of hers would fade to myopic fish, and her nipples swell and crack, and her lovely young velvety delicate delta be tainted and torn..." (278)

This wor appears on a page that mentioned Clare Quilty. I think it is interesting that Humbert Humbert is frequently showing Lolita's myopic vision. It is his myopic vision that readers should be concerned with considering he is the nearsighted one, especially when it comes to figuring out the clues left for him by Quilty. I think that by always point out Lolita's myopic tendencies Nabokov is secretly wanting readers to notice Humbert's myopic tendencies instead. Just a theory.

Note: It seems as though this word is used more than twice in this novel but I am having a hard time locating instances. If anyone knows of other page numbers please let me know. Thanks!

A Discovery

Baedeker's Guide is mentioned on page 154 (specifically the copy from 1900). The guide was first created in 1827. Each guide had up to the minute revisions. Accuracy of these revisions were checked by members of the Baedeker family as they traveled incognito through Europe.

Instead of having Jeremy Irons read to me I would rather listen to Johnny Cash sing to me (if he were still alive). On page 153-154, the last paragraph of the chapter. This sections reminds me of the Cash song I've Been Everywhere.


Johnny Cash: I've Been Everywhere

"I've Been Everywhere"I was totin' my pack along the long dusty Winnemucca road,When along came a semi with a high an' canvas-covered load."If you're goin' to Winnemucca, Mack, with me you can ride."And so I climbed into the cab and then I settled down inside.He asked me if I'd seen a road with so much dust and sand.And I said, "Listen, I've traveled every road in this here land!"

[Chorus:]I've been everywhere, man.I've been everywhere, man.Crossed the desert's bare, man.I've breathed the mountain air, man.Of travel I've had my share, man.I've been everywhere.

I've been to:Reno, Chicago, Fargo, Minnesota,Buffalo, Toronto, Winslow, Sarasota,Wichita, Tulsa, Ottawa, Oklahoma,Tampa, Panama, Mattawa, La Paloma,Bangor, Baltimore, Salvador, Amarillo,Tocapillo, Baranquilla, and Perdilla, I'm a killer.

[Chorus]

I've been to:Boston, Charleston, Dayton, Louisiana,Washington, Houston, Kingston, Texarkana,Monterey, Faraday, Santa Fe, Tallapoosa,Glen Rock, Black Rock, Little Rock, Oskaloosa,Tennessee, Hennessey, Chicopee, Spirit Lake,Grand Lake, Devils Lake, Crater Lake, for Pete's sake.

[Chorus]

I've been to:Louisville, Nashville, Knoxville, Ombabika,Schefferville, Jacksonville, Waterville, Costa Rica,Pittsfield, Springfield, Bakersfield, Shreveport,Hackensack, Cadillac, Fond du Lac, Davenport,Idaho, Jellico, Argentina, Diamantina,Pasadena, Catalina, see what I mean-a.[Chorus]I've been to:Pittsburgh, Parkersburg, Gravelbourg, Colorado,Ellisburg, Rexburg, Vicksburg, Eldorado,Larimore, Admore, Haverstraw, Chatanika,Chaska, Nebraska, Alaska, Opelika,Baraboo, Waterloo, Kalamazoo, Kansas City,Sioux City, Cedar City, Dodge City, what a pity.

[Chorus]

I have become obsessed with trying to understand why Nabokov wanted to write a book about a pedophile. The site below does not explain why, but I thought that this site was an interesting start to my search.

http://worldliteratures.suite101.com/article.cfm/lolita_nabokovs_classic_novel

I am struggling to understand why everyone is so excited about Lolita. This novel disturbs me and therefore it is not an enjoyable reading experience for me. Every time Humbert Humber talks about Lolita I envision my baby sister, who is 8 years old, being pursued by middle-aged man who can't make with women his own age so he prays on young girls. Quite frankly, I am repulsed by this novel which makes it hard to want to keep reading, but I plan to finish the novel despite my disgust.

A Caption

If I remember correctly this picture was taken on New Years Eve 2005, right before the stroke of midnight and the year 2006. I am the one hiding at the back of the picture. Sarah is the one whose shoulder I am peeking over. She is married now to a Justin, I introduced them. Jessie, standing on Sarah's left, had met her future husband but he was unable to make for this evening. Jessie married her husband, Travis, in December of 2007. She lost Travis in a boating accident on July 4th, 2009. Travis and Sarah were cousin but didn't know it until after him and Jessie met. I was in Longview Washington when Sarah called me with the news of Travis. It was 6:30 A.M. It was a sad day for me. I like this picture because it captures the three of us together before life became too complicated and we unintentionally started drifting apart. Looking at the picture reminds me to enjoy the present. Don't dwell on the future or the past.

An Early Childhood Memory

This is a vague memory. I was probably around the age of two maybe three, I don't remember exactly. At this point in my life my family lived in Massachusetts. One weekend my mother brother and I went to the ocean, I am unsure if my dad was with us. Anyway, the water that day was cold and the waves were unceasing (which according to recent experience is normal behavior of coastal ocean water). For the longest time I made the waves of that day out to be enormous, monster waves. Due to my recent trip to the Oregon coast, Astoria in particular, I believe that waves crashing into the coast are enormous, monster waves. I remember running from the waves back to the beach and never making it before the waves crashed into me. And as I was running from the waves on the Oregon coast this past summer I was struck with the memory of doing the exact same thing as a toddler in Massachusetts. Like I said, a vague memory.