Vladimir Nabokov

Annotations by Alexey Sklyarenko

Description

Please read Alexey Sklyarenko's annotations on Pale FireAda and other Nabokov works here.

By Alexey Sklyarenko, 26 May, 2024

At the end of Canto Four of his poem John Shade (the poet in VN’s novel Pale Fire, 1962) mentions horseshoes being tossed somewhere:

 

But it's not bedtime yet. The sun attains

Old Dr. Sutton's last two windowpanes.

The man must be - what? Eighty? Eighty-two?

Was twice my age the year I married you.

Where are you? In the garden. I can see

Part of your shadow near the shagbark tree.

Somewhere horseshoes are being tossed. Click, Clunk.

(Leaning against its lamppost like a drunk.)

By Alexey Sklyarenko, 25 May, 2024

Describing his wife, Queen Disa (Duchess of Payn, of Great Payn and Mone), Kinbote (in VN’s novel Pale Fire, 1962, Shade’s mad commentator who imagines that he is Charles the Beloved, the last self-exiled king of Zembla) quotes a Zemblan saying belwif ivurkumpf wid spew ebanumf ("A beautiful woman should be like a compass rose of ivory with four parts of ebony”):

 

By Alexey Sklyarenko, 25 May, 2024

Describing the death of Queen Blenda (the mother of Charles Xavier Vseslav), Kinbote (in VN’s novel Pale Fire, 1962, Shade’s mad commentator who imagines that he is Charles the Beloved, the last self-exiled king of Zembla) mentions a rather handsomely drawn plan of the chambers, terraces, bastions and pleasure grounds of the Onhava Palace:

 

By Alexey Sklyarenko, 24 May, 2024

In his Commentary and Index to Shade’s poem Kinbote (in VN’s novel Pale Fire, 1962, Shade's mad commentator who imagines that he is Charles the Beloved, the last self-exiled king of Zembla) mentions Odon (pseudonym of Donald O'Donnell, b. 1915, world-famous actor and Zemblan patriot who helps the king to escape from Zembla) and his epileptic half-brother Nodo:

 

By Alexey Sklyarenko, 24 May, 2024

At the end of his poem John Shade (the poet in VN's novel Pale Fire, 1962) mentions old Dr. Sutton's last two windowpanes and wonders what is the man's age:

 

But it's not bedtime yet. The sun attains

Old Dr. Sutton's last two windowpanes.

The man must be - what? Eighty? Eighty-two?

Was twice my age the year I married you.

Where are you? In the garden. I can see

Part of your shadow near the shagbark tree.

Somewhere horseshoes are being tossed. Click, Clunk.

By Alexey Sklyarenko, 23 May, 2024

In Canto One and then again at the end of Canto Four of his poem John Shade (the poet in VN's novel Pale Fire, 1962) mentions the windows of old Dr. Sutton's house:

 

And there's the wall of sound: the nightly wall

Raised by a trillion crickets in the fall.

Impenetrable! Halfway up the hill

I'd pause in thrall of their delirious trill.

That's Dr. Sutton's light. That's the Great Bear.

A thousand years ago five minutes were

Equal to forty ounces of fine sand.

Outstare the stars. Infinite foretime and

By Alexey Sklyarenko, 22 May, 2024

According to Kinbote (in VN's novel Pale Fire, 1962, Shade’s mad commentator who imagines that he is Charles the Beloved, the last self-exiled king of Zembla), on his deathbed Conmal (the Zemblan translator of Shakespeare) called his nephew, the King Charles the Beloved, "Karlik:"

 

By Alexey Sklyarenko, 21 May, 2024

According to Kinbote (in VN's novel Pale Fire, 1962, Shade’s mad commentator who imagines that he is Charles the Beloved, the last self-exiled king of Zembla), on his deathbed Conmal (the Zemblan translator of Shakespeare) called his nephew, the King Charles the Beloved, "Karlik:"

 

By Alexey Sklyarenko, 21 May, 2024

Describing Izumrudov's visit to Gradus (Shade's murderer) in Nice, Kinbote (in VN's novel Pale Fire, 1962, Shade’s mad commentator who imagines that he is Charles the Beloved, the last self-exiled king of Zembla) mentions the Umruds (an Eskimo tribe) and their umyaks (hide-lined boats):

 

By Alexey Sklyarenko, 20 May, 2024

In Canto One of his poem John Shade (the poet in VN's novel Pale Fire, 1962) speaks of his childhood and mentions the svelte stilettos of a frozen stillicide:

 

All colors made me happy: even gray.

My eyes were such that literally they

Took photographs. Whenever I'd permit,

Or, with a silent shiver, order it,

Whatever in my field of vision dwelt -

An indoor scene, hickory leaves, the svelte

Stilettos of a frozen stillicide -

Was printed on my eyelids' nether side

Where it would tarry for an hour or two,