Before the family dinner in "Ardis the Second" Demon Veen (in VN's novel Ada, 1969, Van's and Ada's father) reads Van's palm and mentions the strange condition of the Sister of Van's Life:
‘I say,’ exclaimed Demon, ‘what’s happened — your shaftment is that of a carpenter’s. Show me your other hand. Good gracious’ (muttering:) ‘Hump of Venus disfigured, Line of Life scarred but monstrously long…’ (switching to a gipsy chant:) ‘You’ll live to reach Terra, and come back a wiser and merrier man’ (reverting to his ordinary voice:) ‘What puzzles me as a palmist is the strange condition of the Sister of your Life. And the roughness!’
‘Mascodagama,’ whispered Van, raising his eyebrows.
‘Ah, of course, how blunt (dumb) of me. Now tell me — you like Ardis Hall?’
‘I adore it,’ said Van. ‘It’s for me the château que baignait la Dore. I would gladly spend all my scarred and strange life here. But that’s a hopeless fancy.’
‘Hopeless? I wonder. I know Dan wants to leave it to Lucile, but Dan is greedy, and my affairs are such that I can satisfy great greed. When I was your age I thought that the sweetest word in the language rhymes with "billiard," and now I know I was right. If you’re really keen, son, on having this property, I might try to buy it. I can exert a certain pressure upon my Marina. She sighs like a hassock when you sit upon her, so to speak. Damn it, the servants here are not Mercuries. Pull that cord again. Yes, maybe Dan could be made to sell.’ (1.38)
In his memoirs Moy dyadya - Pushkin. Iz semeynoy khroniki ("My Uncle Pushkin. From the Family Chronicle," 1888) Lev Pavlishchev (the poet's nephew) says that, soon after he had finished the Lyceum (in 1817), Pushkin asked his sister Olga (who got involved in phrenology and palmistry) to read his palm and she predicted to him a violent death at a relatively young age:
Одним из любимых занятий Ольги Сергеевны в молодые годы ее было изучение физиогномистики и френологии, так что сочинения Лафатера и Галле сделались ее настольными книгами, с помощью которых она, как говорила, безошибочно распознавала характер людей; занялась она, следовательно, и хиромантией, сама иногда изумляясь своим предсказаниям, из которых привожу два примера. Однажды Александр Сергеевич, вскоре после выпуска своего из лицея, убедительно стал просить ее посмотреть его руку. Ольга Сергеевна долго не соглашалась на это, но, уступив наконец усиленной просьбе брата, взяла его руку, долго на нее глядела и, заливаясь слезами, сказала ему, целуя эту же руку:
– Зачем, Александр, принуждаешь меня сказать тебе, что боюсь за тебя?.. Грозит тебе насильственная смерть и еще не в пожилые годы.
Как известно, предсказание сбылось в 1837 году.
Подобную же насильственную кончину Ольга Сергеевна предсказала своему родственнику А. Г. Батурину, поручику лейб-гвардии Егерского полка. Он за два дня до своей кончины провел у Пушкиных, родителей Ольги Сергеевны, вечер в полном цвете здоровья и юношеских сил. Разговор зашел о хиромантии, и Ольга Сергеевна, посмотрев его руку, сказала:
– По руке вашей вы не умрете естественной смертию; впрочем, не верьте моим хиромантическим познаниям.
На третий же день после этого предсказания Батурин пал от руки убийцы. Солдат полка, в котором служил Батурин, пылая местью к наказавшему его жестокому фельдфебелю, решился его умертвить, а для ободрения себя к злодеянию напился допьяна и, ворвавшись в казарменную комнату, где думал встретить намеченную жертву, бросился с ножом на Батурина, приняв его за предмет своей мести. Батурин тут же испустил дух.
Вопросы отвлеченные, – кто я, что я и для чего я, – над разрешением которых так усердно трудились мыслители двух прошедших столетий, были главным предметом умозрительных и, в полном смысле, мучительных исследований моей матери. Занятия френологией и дочерью этой науки – хиромантией, не мешали, однако, Ольге Сергеевне смотреть в молодости своей на философские предметы с точки зрения большинства вышеупомянутых мыслителей, но впоследствии она исполнилась убеждения, что одни лишь философы-христиане могут вывести ее из лабиринта. (Chapter III)
According to the memoirist, in later years his mother became convinced that only the Christian philosophers can get her out of the maze (iz labirinta). In March 1905 Demon Veen perishes in a mysterious airplane disaster above the Pacific. Half a year later, when they meet in Mont Roux, Ada (now married to Andrey Vinelander) tells Van that her husband called Demon (son of Dedalus Veen) Dementiy Labirintovich:
‘My upper-lip space feels indecently naked.’ (He had shaved his mustache off with howls of pain in her presence). ‘And I cannot keep sucking in my belly all the time.’
‘Oh, I like you better with that nice overweight — there’s more of you. It’s the maternal gene, I suppose, because Demon grew leaner and leaner. He looked positively Quixotic when I saw him at Mother’s funeral. It was all very strange. He wore blue mourning. D’Onsky’s son, a person with only one arm, threw his remaining one around Demon and both wept comme des fontaines. Then a robed person who looked like an extra in a technicolor incarnation of Vishnu made an incomprehensible sermon. Then she went up in smoke. He said to me, sobbing: "I will not cheat the poor grubs!" Practically a couple of hours after he broke that promise we had sudden visitors at the ranch — an incredibly graceful moppet of eight, black-veiled, and a kind of duenna, also in black, with two bodyguards. The hag demanded certain fantastic sums — which Demon, she said, had not had time to pay, for "popping the hymen" — whereupon I had one of our strongest boys throw out vsyu (the entire) kompaniyu.’
‘Extraordinary,’ said Van, ‘they had been growing younger and younger — I mean the girls, not the strong silent boys. His old Rosalind had a ten-year-old niece, a primed chickabiddy. Soon he would have been poaching them from the hatching chamber.’
‘You never loved your father,’ said Ada sadly.
‘Oh, I did and do — tenderly, reverently, understandingly, because, after all, that minor poetry of the flesh is something not unfamiliar to me. But as far as we are concerned, I mean you and I, he was buried on the same day as our uncle Dan.’
‘I know, I know. It’s pitiful! And what use was it? Perhaps I oughtn’t to tell you, but his visits to Agavia kept getting rarer and shorter every year. Yes, it was pitiful to hear him and Andrey talking. I mean, Andrey n’a pas le verbe facile, though he greatly appreciated — without quite understanding it — Demon’s wild flow of fancy and fantastic fact, and would often exclaim, with his Russian "tssk-tssk" and a shake of the head — complimentary and all that — "what a balagur (wag) you are!" — And then, one day, Demon warned me that he would not come any more if he heard again poor Andrey’s poor joke (Nu i balagur-zhe vï, Dementiy Labirintovich) or what Dorothy, l’impayable ("priceless for impudence and absurdity") Dorothy, thought of my camping out in the mountains with only Mayo, a cowhand, to protect me from lions.’
‘Could one hear more about that?’ asked Van.
‘Well, nobody did. All this happened at a time when I was not on speaking terms with my husband and sister-in-law, and so could not control the situation. Anyhow, Demon did not come even when he was only two hundred miles away and simply mailed instead, from some gaming house, your lovely, lovely letter about Lucette and my picture.’
‘One would also like to know some details of the actual coverture — frequence of intercourse, pet names for secret warts, favorite smells —’
‘Platok momental’no (handkerchief quick)! Your right nostril is full of damp jade,’ said Ada, and then pointed to a lawnside circular sign, rimmed with red, saying: Chiens interdits and depicting an impossible black mongrel with a white ribbon around its neck: Why, she wondered, should the Swiss magistrates forbid one to cross highland terriers with poodles? (3.8)
Darkbloom (‘Notes to Ada’): comme etc.: shedding floods of tears.
N’a pas le verbe etc.: lacks the gift of the gab.
chiens etc.: dogs not allowed.
Reading Van's palm, Demon seems to predict his own death. Van does not realize that his father died because Ada (who could not pardon Demon his forcing Van to give her up) managed to persuade the pilot to destroy his machine in midair. Pasternak's collection Sestra moya zhizn' ("My Sister Life," 1922) opens with the poem Pamyati Demona ("In Memory of Demon"). Pasternak's mistress and muse, Olga Ivinskaya (1912-95), is a namesake of Pushkin's sister. VN believed that she helped Pasternak to write Doctor Zhivago (1957).
10 February 2025 (the 188th anniversary of Pushkin's death)