chapter 6, page #119
"From the age of seven, everything I felt in connection with a rectangle of framed sunlight was dominated by a single passion. If my first glance of the morning was for the sun, my first thought was for the butterflies it would engender."
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Nabokov speaking...
So I had a very difficult time finding a passage we had not already talked about that dealt with memory. Instead I found several interesting passages...
The first passage is on page 188. In this section Nabokov is describing how his school life is so different from his peers. In the final line of the section Nabokov writes "But how on earth could I discuss this with schoolteachers?" I think this sentence is interesting for two reasons. The first being that it draws the reader in, it asks the reader a rhetorical question. The second being that it is a writing technique I do not believe Nabokov has employed thus far in this work.
On page 148 Nabokov describes his memory as "a glass cell" which I think is a very interesting way to think about memories.
The first passage is on page 188. In this section Nabokov is describing how his school life is so different from his peers. In the final line of the section Nabokov writes "But how on earth could I discuss this with schoolteachers?" I think this sentence is interesting for two reasons. The first being that it draws the reader in, it asks the reader a rhetorical question. The second being that it is a writing technique I do not believe Nabokov has employed thus far in this work.
On page 148 Nabokov describes his memory as "a glass cell" which I think is a very interesting way to think about memories.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Nabokov Speaking to His Memory
Well, I had trouble finding a specific quote that demonstrates this... so I'm chosing to write about the title of the work instead... I hope that's okay.
Nabokov's title, "Speak, Memory," evokes a sense of something to come, something about to happen, a sense that a dam is about to let go. I think it is this sense of anticipation that makes this book so engaging for me. I feel like just on the other side of the page some gem will be presented to the reader, and you just have to be on the look-out for it... it's almost like Christmas, but with less mistletoe. I mean, obviously I'm exaggerating, but I really do have this feeling of wanting to know what's next, wanting to discover the next profound statement.
I guess what I'm trying to point out is that by employing this technique Nabokov invites the reader into his private world, which makes each story seem like a gift to us. It is as though he's invited us along for a tour through his memory, and we're privaleged to be there because it's really a private conversation between him and his memory.
Is this making sense?
Nabokov's title, "Speak, Memory," evokes a sense of something to come, something about to happen, a sense that a dam is about to let go. I think it is this sense of anticipation that makes this book so engaging for me. I feel like just on the other side of the page some gem will be presented to the reader, and you just have to be on the look-out for it... it's almost like Christmas, but with less mistletoe. I mean, obviously I'm exaggerating, but I really do have this feeling of wanting to know what's next, wanting to discover the next profound statement.
I guess what I'm trying to point out is that by employing this technique Nabokov invites the reader into his private world, which makes each story seem like a gift to us. It is as though he's invited us along for a tour through his memory, and we're privaleged to be there because it's really a private conversation between him and his memory.
Is this making sense?
Cars
"This informal contact between train and city was one part of the thrill. The other was putting myself in the place of some passer-by who, I imagined, was moved as I would be moved myself to see the long, romantic, auburn cars, with their intervestibular connectiong curtains as black as bat wings and their metal lettering copper-bright in the low sun, unhurriedly negotiate an iron bridge across an everyday thoroughfare and then turn, with all windows suddenly ablaze, around a last block of houses." (Chatper 7, page 144)
1. Periodic sentence?
2. I found this particular passage to be of greater significance than it may seem because of its implications. Nabokov, once again proving his great imagination, places himself in the mind of a stranger and assumes to know, or pretends to know, what they are thinking. The reason I find this so interesting is because I tend to do this myself. Often times, while driving down the interstate, I'll see all different cars: different makes and models, different license plates, different conditions, bumper stickers, and different people inside. Sometimes I can't help but imagine where they might be either going to or coming from, or what their lives might be like. This passage also mentions cars, but cars of a train connecting different countries rather than automobiles without a known destination. I also find it interesting that this is something his memory has captured and retained all these years as an exciting moment in his life, and with so much detail. Cars are literal objects that take us from one physical location to another (whether train or automobile), but can also be used in this instance as a metaphorical transition from one part of his life to another.
1. Periodic sentence?
2. I found this particular passage to be of greater significance than it may seem because of its implications. Nabokov, once again proving his great imagination, places himself in the mind of a stranger and assumes to know, or pretends to know, what they are thinking. The reason I find this so interesting is because I tend to do this myself. Often times, while driving down the interstate, I'll see all different cars: different makes and models, different license plates, different conditions, bumper stickers, and different people inside. Sometimes I can't help but imagine where they might be either going to or coming from, or what their lives might be like. This passage also mentions cars, but cars of a train connecting different countries rather than automobiles without a known destination. I also find it interesting that this is something his memory has captured and retained all these years as an exciting moment in his life, and with so much detail. Cars are literal objects that take us from one physical location to another (whether train or automobile), but can also be used in this instance as a metaphorical transition from one part of his life to another.
autobiography can take many forms
"...poems are autobiography... and comment, the metronomic alternation of anecdote and response."
-Louise Glück
-Louise Glück
Friday, October 10, 2008
Butterflies? No, syntax!
"It is astounding how little the ordinary person notices butterflies." (Pg. 129)
Okay, so this may not seem like a deep and brilliant line... at first!!
No, but really. When I first read it, for some reason it struck me that this is true about almost everything... what I mean is that the things you find really fascinating, regardless of what they are, are never very interesting to most other people. Has anyone ever not noticed this? I'm not talking about liking the Red Sox or watching some popular TV show.... I'm talking about something that is not embedded in our culture. Like, for instance, I find people's syntax really intriguing (which has a lot to do with why I manipulate mine so oddly on occasion). Weird, right? And that's exactly my point... you are not that interested in syntax, so you notice very little about it. Nabokov recognized that many people do not notice much about butterflies. It's the same thing, and I found it interesting that Nabokov pointed it out.
Okay, so this may not seem like a deep and brilliant line... at first!!
No, but really. When I first read it, for some reason it struck me that this is true about almost everything... what I mean is that the things you find really fascinating, regardless of what they are, are never very interesting to most other people. Has anyone ever not noticed this? I'm not talking about liking the Red Sox or watching some popular TV show.... I'm talking about something that is not embedded in our culture. Like, for instance, I find people's syntax really intriguing (which has a lot to do with why I manipulate mine so oddly on occasion). Weird, right? And that's exactly my point... you are not that interested in syntax, so you notice very little about it. Nabokov recognized that many people do not notice much about butterflies. It's the same thing, and I found it interesting that Nabokov pointed it out.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Truth/Honesty in Nabokov
In the opening pages of his autobiography, Nabokov announces the following:
"What I have not been able to rework through want of specific documentation, I have now preferred to delete for the sake of overall truth." (Pg. 14, second paragraph)
I found this remarkable for two reasons.
1 - This contrasts distinctly with they way that Mary McCarthy openly admitted to including error/fictionalization which she provides commentary on in her italicized responses to chapters.
2 - This implies that we are supposed to believe every word of Nabokov's narrative. Can we possibly do that? What about places that veer into imagination quite obviously? I suppose that we can believe these passages are true at least in that they may really have happened in his mind, but we cannot necessarily believe that they happened in actual reality. This, of course, begs the question of what "actual reality" is and where the line between reality and imagination occurs. Perhaps much of what we remember is imagination, as our imagination colors our every interaction. Or perhaps not. I can't answer that question for all of us.
What I can say is that Nabokov asserts that his entire autobiography is truth. This does not mean, to my mind, that there is no fiction or imagination at work... it simply means he is not creating any of his story out of nothing; everything he writes is based in fact or memory that he believes is fact.
"What I have not been able to rework through want of specific documentation, I have now preferred to delete for the sake of overall truth." (Pg. 14, second paragraph)
I found this remarkable for two reasons.
1 - This contrasts distinctly with they way that Mary McCarthy openly admitted to including error/fictionalization which she provides commentary on in her italicized responses to chapters.
2 - This implies that we are supposed to believe every word of Nabokov's narrative. Can we possibly do that? What about places that veer into imagination quite obviously? I suppose that we can believe these passages are true at least in that they may really have happened in his mind, but we cannot necessarily believe that they happened in actual reality. This, of course, begs the question of what "actual reality" is and where the line between reality and imagination occurs. Perhaps much of what we remember is imagination, as our imagination colors our every interaction. Or perhaps not. I can't answer that question for all of us.
What I can say is that Nabokov asserts that his entire autobiography is truth. This does not mean, to my mind, that there is no fiction or imagination at work... it simply means he is not creating any of his story out of nothing; everything he writes is based in fact or memory that he believes is fact.
APS Posting for Jenna
Chapter 2, pg. # 35)
"The confessions of a synesthete must sound tedious and pretentious to those who are protected from such leakings and drafts by more solid walls than mine are. To my mother, though, this all seemed quiet normal."
"The confessions of a synesthete must sound tedious and pretentious to those who are protected from such leakings and drafts by more solid walls than mine are. To my mother, though, this all seemed quiet normal."
APS Posting for Evan
"I do not agree with the assertion that McCarthy used the italics to simply allow the reader to have further insight. I know that I have commented on this blog saying that allowing the reader to gather more information was the point to the italics, however after further reading I no longer feel that way. Instead I contend that she uses the italics because it is theraputic to her. I say this because throughout the autobiography the italics begin to get smaller and smaller as she gets more used to being completely honest. This is finally confirmed in the last chapter, "Ask Me No Questions," where she doesn't even need italics anymore. She has grown throughout the telling of her tale and she sees no more need for the italics. Although it is easy to see why the italics can be seen as a way of letting the reader in, it is truly a theraputic way for McCarthy to grow."
the correlation of color, letter and sound
i'd just like to go back to what erin wrote on wednesday.....
i really enjoy reading about how certain letters evoked very specific colors in Nabokov's mind. for me, sometimes its the smallest detail about a person, or a unique quality in their perspective that i find most intriguing. i love how he shares this personal quirk with us. in regards to his coloring of letters, i especially found it interesting because i've had many a conversation, about what certain days, months, words and emotions conjure up as far as color goes. but i had never really broken words down so far as to think of how letters might appear individually.
it wasn't until i reread the passage erin had posted, that i started to think Nabokovs' assignments of color were not random. if you read aloud: "alder-leaf f, unripe apple p, pistachio t", for me, there's a very obvious connection between the sounds of the color words, and the sound of the individual letter. in my opinion, Nabokov's pairing of color with letter, might all have a foundation in alliteration.
i really enjoy reading about how certain letters evoked very specific colors in Nabokov's mind. for me, sometimes its the smallest detail about a person, or a unique quality in their perspective that i find most intriguing. i love how he shares this personal quirk with us. in regards to his coloring of letters, i especially found it interesting because i've had many a conversation, about what certain days, months, words and emotions conjure up as far as color goes. but i had never really broken words down so far as to think of how letters might appear individually.
it wasn't until i reread the passage erin had posted, that i started to think Nabokovs' assignments of color were not random. if you read aloud: "alder-leaf f, unripe apple p, pistachio t", for me, there's a very obvious connection between the sounds of the color words, and the sound of the individual letter. in my opinion, Nabokov's pairing of color with letter, might all have a foundation in alliteration.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Nabokov's Image Creativity
"Below, a wide ripple, almost a wave, and something vaguely white attracted my eye. As I came quite close to the lapping water, I saw what it was-an aged swan, a large, uncouth, dodo-like creature, making ridiculous efforts to hoist himself into a moored boat. He could not do it. The heavy, impotent flapping of his wings, their slippery sound against the rocking and plashing boat, the gluey glistening of the dark swell where it caught the light-all seemed for a moment laden with that strange significance which sometimes in dreams is attached to a finger pressed to mute lips and then pointed at something the dreamer has no time to distinguish before waking with a start." (pg. 116)
I've always paid more attention to writers when they create vivid images for the reader to really make the point of what it is they are trying to get across. I think that Nabokov does this throughout his memoir, but so far the image of the swan has been my favorite. I can exactly picture this scene because he lays it all right out on the page, right down to the color and feel of the water. It is because of his ability to take an event that he witnessed fifty years ago and make me, as the reader, see the same thing that I've enjoyed reading his autobiography. It makes the subject matter of his life that much more interesting.
I've always paid more attention to writers when they create vivid images for the reader to really make the point of what it is they are trying to get across. I think that Nabokov does this throughout his memoir, but so far the image of the swan has been my favorite. I can exactly picture this scene because he lays it all right out on the page, right down to the color and feel of the water. It is because of his ability to take an event that he witnessed fifty years ago and make me, as the reader, see the same thing that I've enjoyed reading his autobiography. It makes the subject matter of his life that much more interesting.
Nabokov's Colorful Alphabet
I believe it was Margaret who mentioned Nabokov's correlation between letters and colors in class, but I just wanted to point out the specific passage (Chapter 2, page 34).
"I present a fine case of colored hearing. Perhaps "hearing" is not quite accurate, since the color sensation seems to be produced by the very act of my orally forming a given letter while I imagine its outline. The long a of the English alphabet has for me the tint of weathered wood, but a French a evokes polished ebony."
Nabokov then classifies certain letters into different categories of color. For instance, "In the green group, there are alder-leaf f, the unripe apple of p, and pistachio t. Dull green, combined somehow with violet, is the best I can do for w."
I find it highly entertaining that he imagines letters not only as different colors like green, blue, or purple, but "alder-leaf," "pistachio," and "violet." I also find it entertaining that he seems almost exasperated with the letter w and therefore, the color schemes in which he sees the letter is "the best [he] can do." If he sees letters in different colors then I wonder how he views words, sentences, and entire passages? Either as a resplendent rainbow or a horrible mess, I would think!
"I present a fine case of colored hearing. Perhaps "hearing" is not quite accurate, since the color sensation seems to be produced by the very act of my orally forming a given letter while I imagine its outline. The long a of the English alphabet has for me the tint of weathered wood, but a French a evokes polished ebony."
Nabokov then classifies certain letters into different categories of color. For instance, "In the green group, there are alder-leaf f, the unripe apple of p, and pistachio t. Dull green, combined somehow with violet, is the best I can do for w."
I find it highly entertaining that he imagines letters not only as different colors like green, blue, or purple, but "alder-leaf," "pistachio," and "violet." I also find it entertaining that he seems almost exasperated with the letter w and therefore, the color schemes in which he sees the letter is "the best [he] can do." If he sees letters in different colors then I wonder how he views words, sentences, and entire passages? Either as a resplendent rainbow or a horrible mess, I would think!
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