In VN's novel Pale Fire (1962) the poet Shade's full name is John Francis Shade; the full name of Charles the Beloved (the last self-exiled king of Zembla) is Charles Xavier Vseslav. In James Joyce's novel A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916) a portrait of saint Francis Xavier (a Navarrese cleric and missionary, 1506-52) pointing to his chest is mentioned:
He passed along the narrow dark corridor, passing little doors that were the doors of the rooms of the community. He peered in front of him and right and left through the gloom and thought that those must be portraits. It was dark and silent and his eyes were weak and tired with tears so that he could not see. But he thought they were the portraits of the saints and great men of the order who were looking down on him silently as he passed: saint Ignatius Loyola holding an open book and pointing to the words Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam in it, saint Francis Xavier pointing to his chest, Lorenzo Ricci with his berretta on his head like one of the prefects of the lines, the three patrons of holy youth, saint Stanislaus Kostka, saint Aloysius Gonzago and Blessed John Berchmans, all with young faces because they died when they were young, and Father Peter Kenny sitting in a chair wrapped in a big cloak. (Chapter I)
At the beginning of a letter (written soon after the wake commemorating Baron Delvig's death) of January 31, 1831, to Pletnyov (to whom Eugene Onegin is dedicated) Pushkin thanks Pletnyov for the Boris Godunov money and quotes the words of St. Francis Xavier "satis est, Domine, satis est (it is enough, O Lord, it is enough):”
Сейчас получил 2000 р., мой благодетель. Satis est, domine, satis est.
In a letter of April 11, 1831, to Pletnyov Pushkin asks Pletnyov (who was slow to reply to Pushkin’s letters) if he is still alive and calls him ten’ vozlyublennaya (the beloved shade):
Воля твоя, ты несносен: ни строчки от тебя не дождёшься. Умер ты, что ли? Если тебя уже нет на свете, то, тень возлюбленная, кланяйся от меня Державину и обними моего Дельвига.
Shade’s poem is almost finished when the author is killed by Gradus. Kinbote believes that, to be completed, Shade’s poem needs but one line (Line 1000, identical to Line 1: “I was the shadow of the waxwing slain”). But it seems that, like some sonnets, Shade's poem also needs a coda (Line 1001: “By its own double in the windowpane”). Dvoynik (“The Double”) is a short novel (1846) by Dostoevski and a poem (1909) by Alexander Blok (1880-1921). At the end of his poem Vozmezdie (“Retribution,” 1910-21) Blok mentions "quantum satis Branda voli (quantum satis of strong-willed Brand):"
Когда ты загнан и забит
Людьми, заботой, иль тоскою;
Когда под гробовой доскою
Всё, что тебя пленяло, спит;
Когда по городской пустыне,
Отчаявшийся и больной,
Ты возвращаешься домой,
И тяжелит ресницы иней,
Тогда - остановись на миг
Послушать тишину ночную:
Постигнешь слухом жизнь иную,
Которой днём ты не постиг;
По-новому окинешь взглядом
Даль снежных улиц, дым костра,
Ночь, тихо ждущую утра
Над белым запушённым садом,
И небо - книгу между книг;
Найдёшь в душе опустошённой
Вновь образ матери склонённый,
И в этот несравненный миг -
Узоры на стекле фонарном,
Мороз, оледенивший кровь,
Твоя холодная любовь -
Всё вспыхнет в сердце благодарном,
Ты всё благословишь тогда,
Поняв, что жизнь - безмерно боле,
Чем quantum satis Бранда воли,
А мир - прекрасен, как всегда.
When you are cornered and depressed
By people, dues or anguish.
When, underneath the coffin lid,
All that inspired you, perished;
When through the deserted town dome,
Hopeless and weak,
You're finally returning home,
And rime is on thy eyelashes, -
Then - come to rest for short-lifted flash
To hear the silence of night
You'll fathom other life by ears
That's hard to fathom at daylight
In new way you will do the glance
Of long snow streets and foam of fire,
Of night, quite waiting for the lance
Of morning in white garden, piled.
Of heaven - Book among the books
You'll find in the drained soul
Again your loving mother's look
And at this moment, peerless, sole
The patterns on the lamppost's glass
The frost, that chilled your blood
Your stone-hold love, already past
All will flare up in your heart.
Then everything you'll highly bless
You'll see that life is much greater
Than quantum satis of strong-willed Brand
And the world is beautiful as always. (chapter III)
Brand (1867) is a play (verse tragedy) by Henrik Ibsen (a Norwegian playwright, 1828-1906). In Chekhov’s play Dyadya Vanya (“Uncle Vanya,” 1898) Doctor Astrov says that he will sleep his fill, quantum satis:
Астров (Елене Андреевне). Я ведь к вашему мужу. Вы писали, что он очень болен, ревматизм и еще что-то, а оказывается, он здоровехонек.
Елена Андреевна. Вчера вечером он хандрил, жаловался на боли в ногах, а сегодня ничего...
Астров. А я-то сломя голову скакал тридцать верст. Ну, да ничего, не впервой. Зато уж останусь у вас до завтра и, по крайней мере, высплюсь quantum satis.
Соня. И прекрасно. Это такая редкость, что вы у нас ночуете. Вы, небось, не обедали?
Астров. Нет-с, не обедал.
Соня. Так вот кстати и пообедаете. Мы теперь обедаем в седьмом часу. (Пьет.) Холодный чай!
Телегин. В самоваре уже значительно понизилась температура.
Елена Андреевна. Ничего, Иван Иваныч, мы и холодный выпьем.
Телегин. Виноват-с... Не Иван Иваныч, а Илья Ильич-с... Илья Ильич Телегин, или, как некоторые зовут меня по причине моего рябого лица, Вафля. Я когда-то крестил Сонечку, и его превосходительство, ваш супруг, знает меня очень хорошо. Я теперь у вас живу-с, в этом имении-с... Если изволили заметить, я каждый день с вами обедаю.
Соня. Илья Ильич наш помощник, правая рука. (Нежно.) Давайте, крестненький, я вам еще налью.
ASTROV (to Elena Andreyena.) I came to see your husband. You wrote that he was very ill, rheumatism and whatever, but it turns out he’s as sprightly as a chicken.
ELENA ANDREYEVNA Yesterday evening he was very low, he complained of pains in his legs, but today it’s all gone...
ASTROV And I of course came here breaking my neck a full fifteen miles. Ah well, it’s nothing, it’s not the first time. At least I can stay here until tomorrow and sleep my fill, quantum satis.
SONYA Oh excellent! It’s so rare that you spend the night with us. I don’t suppose you’ve eaten.
ASTROV No Miss, I haven’t eaten.
SONYA Well that fits in nicely, you can dine with us. We have dinner at seven now. (She drinks.) This tea is cold!
TELEGIN Yes, in the samovar the temperature has dropped significantly.
ELENA ANDREYEVNA It doesn’t matter, Ivan Ivanych, we’ll drink it cold.
TELEGIN I beg pardon ma’am, it’s not Ivan Ivanych, it’s Ilya Ilyich... Ilya Ilyich Telegin, or as some people call me because of my pock marked face, Waffle. I was Sonya’s godfather, and his excellency, your husband, knows me very well. I live now in this house ma’am... Perhaps you might notice that I dine with you each evening.
SONYA Ilya Ilyich – our indispensable assistant, our right hand man. (Tenderly.) Here, dear godfather, let me pour you some more tea. (Act One)
Telegin's nickname, Vaflya (Waffle) brings to mind "the luminous waffle," as in his apology of suicide Kinbote (Shade’s mad commentator who imagines that he is Charles the Beloved) calls a skyscraper:
Of the not very many ways known of shedding one's body, falling, falling, falling is the supreme method, but you have to select your sill or ledge very carefully so as not to hurt yourself or others. Jumping from a high bridge is not recommended even if you cannot swim, for wind and water abound in weird contingencies, and tragedy ought not to culminate in a record dive or a policeman's promotion. If you rent a cell in the luminous waffle, room 1915 or 1959, in a tall business center hotel browing the star dust, and pull up the window, and gently - not fall, not jump - but roll out as you should for air comfort, there is always the chance of knocking clean through into your own hell a pacific noctambulator walking his dog; in this respect a back room might be safer, especially if giving on the roof of an old tenacious normal house far below where a cat may be trusted to flash out of the way. (note to Line 493)
1915 is the year of Kinbote's (and Gradus') birth; 1959 is the year of Shade's (and Gradus' and Kinbote's) death. 1959 − 1915 = 44. Anton Chekhov (1860-1904) died at the age of forty-four. According to Kinbote, in a conversation with him Shade listed Gogol, Dostoevski and Chekhov among Russian humorists:
Speaking of the Head of the bloated Russian Department, Prof. Pnin, a regular martinet in regard to his underlings (happily, Prof. Botkin, who taught in another department, was not subordinated to that grotesque "perfectionist"): "How odd that Russian intellectuals should lack all sense of humor when they have such marvelous humorists as Gogol, Dostoevski, Chekhov, Zoshchenko, and those joint authors of genius Ilf and Petrov." (note to Line 172)
In his fragment Rim (“Rome,” 1842) Gogol describes a carnival in Rome and mentions il gran poeta morto (the great dead poet) and his sonetto colla coda (sonnet with a coda):
Внимание толпы занял какой-то смельчак, шагавший на ходулях вравне с домами, рискуя всякую минуту быть сбитым с ног и грохнуться насмерть о мостовую. Но об этом, кажется, у него не было забот. Он тащил на плечах чучело великана, придерживая его одной рукою, неся в другой написанный на бумаге сонет с приделанным к нему бумажным хвостом, какой бывает у бумажного змея, и крича во весь голос: <Ecco il gran poeta morto. Ecco il suo sonetto colla coda!>
In a footnote Gogol says that in Italian poetry there is a kind of poem known as sonnet with the tail (con la coda) and explains what a coda is:
В италиянской поэзии существует род стихотворенья, известного под именем сонета с хвостом (con la coda), когда мысль не вместилась и ведёт за собою прибавление, которое часто бывает длиннее самого сонета.
Gogol points out that a coda can be longer than the sonnet itself. Not only (the unwritten) Line 1001 of Shade's poem, but Kinbote's entire Foreword, Commentary and Index can thus be regarded as a coda of Shade's poem.
Unknown Japanese painter, St. Francis Xavier, detail, late sixteenth to early seventeenth centuries, Japanese watercolors on paper, 61 x 48.7 cm (Kobe City Museum)