On the night before his pistol duel with Captain Tapper, of Wild Violet Lodge, Van Veen (the narrator and main character in VN’s novel Ada, 1969) dreams of Bouteillan (the French butler at Ardis) who explains to Van that the ‘dor’ in the name of an adored river (Ladore) equals the corruption of hydro in ‘dorophone:’
Van was roused by the night porter who put a cup of coffee with a local ‘eggbun’ on his bedside table, and expertly palmed the expected chervonetz. He resembled somewhat Bouteillan as the latter had been ten years ago and as he had appeared in a dream, which Van now retrostructed as far as it would go: in it Demon’s former valet explained to Van that the ‘dor’ in the name of an adored river equaled the corruption of hydro in ‘dorophone.’ Van often had word dreams. (1.42)
Chervonetz is a ten roubles gold coin (cherv' means 'worm'). Before he became the butler at Ardis Hall, Albert Bouteillan served as the valet of Demon Veen (Van's and Ada's father):
None of the family was at home when Van arrived. A servant in waiting took his horse. He entered the Gothic archway of the hall where Bouteillan, the old bald butler who unprofessionally now wore a mustache (dyed a rich gravy brown), met him with gested delight — he had once been the valet of Van’s father — ‘Je parie,’ he said, ‘que Monsieur ne me reconnaît pas,’ and proceeded to remind Van of what Van had already recollected unaided, the farmannikin (a special kind of box kite, untraceable nowadays even in the greatest museums housing the toys of the past) which Bouteillan had helped him to fly one day in a meadow dotted with buttercups. Both looked up: the tiny red rectangle hung for an instant askew in a blue spring sky. The hall was famous for its painted ceilings. It was too early for tea: Would Van like him or a maid to unpack? Oh, one of the maids, said Van, wondering briefly what item in a schoolboy’s luggage might be supposed to shock a housemaid. The picture of naked Ivory Revery (a model)? Who cared, now that he was a man? (1.5)
Darkbloom ('Notes to Ada'): Je parie, etc.: I bet you do not recognize me, Sir.
A special kind of box kite, the farmannikin blends Farman (Henri Farman, an Anglo-French aviator, 1874-1958) with mannikin. In Russian a box kite is called vozdushnyi zmey. The masculine form of zmeya (snake), zmey means "serpent." The second part of the name Zmey Gorynych (the three-headed dragon or serpent of Russian fairy tales) comes either from goret' (to burn) or from gora (mountain) where the dragon is supposed to live (in a cave). Describing the Night of the Burning Barn (when Van and Ada make love for the first timde), Ada (who takes over) mentions the surprised and pleased Serpent:
Oh, Van, that night, that moment as we knelt side by side in the candlelight like Praying Children in a very bad picture, showing two pairs of soft-wrinkled, once arboreal-animal, soles — not to Grandma who gets the Xmas card but to the surprised and pleased Serpent, I remember wanting so badly to ask you for a bit of purely scientific information, because my sidelong glance —
Not now, it’s not a nice sight right now and it will be worse in a moment (or words to that effect).
Van could not decide whether she really was utterly ignorant and as pure as the night sky — now drained of its fire color — or whether total experience advised her to indulge in a cold game. It did not really matter. (1.19)
In Van's and Ada's verses goru (Acc. of gora, mountain) rhymes with Ladoru (Acc. of Ladora, the Russian name of Van's and Ada's adored river):
My sister, do you still recall
The blue Ladore and Ardis Hall?
Don’t you remember any more
That castle bathed by the Ladore?
Ma sœur, te souvient-il encore
Du château que baignait la Dore?
My sister, do you still recall
The Ladore-washed old castle wall?
Sestra moya, tï pomnish’ goru,
I dub vïsokiy, i Ladoru?
My sister, you remember still
The spreading oak tree and my hill?
Oh! qui me rendra mon Aline
Et le grand chêne et ma colline?
Oh, who will give me back my Jill
And the big oak tree and my hill?
Oh! qui me rendra, mon Adèle,
Et ma montagne et l’hirondelle?
Oh! qui me rendra ma Lucile,
La Dore et l’hirandelle agile?
Oh, who will render in our tongue
The tender things he loved and sung? (1.22)
Darkbloom ('Notes to Ada'): Ma soeur te souvient-il encore: first line of the third sextet of Chateaubriand’s Romance à Hélène (‘Combien j’ai douce souvenance’) composed to an Auvergne tune that he heard during a trip to Mont Dore in 1805 and later inserted in his novella Le Dernier Abencerage. The final (fifth) sextet begins with ‘Oh! qui me rendra mon Hélène. Et ma montagne et le grand chêne’ — one of the leitmotivs of the present novel.
sestra moya etc.: my sister, do you remember the mountain, and the tall oak, and the Ladore?
oh! qui me rendra etc.: oh who will give me back my Aline, and the big oak, and my hill?
Lucile: the name of Chateaubriand’s actual sister.
la Dore etc.: the Dore and the agile swallow.
Van's adversary in a pistol duel, Captain Tapper is a member of the Do-Re-La ('Ladore' musically jumbled) Country Club. Zmey Gorynych (a dragon) and 'hydro' in Van's word dream make one think of gydra kontrr... (the hydra of counterrevo--) mentioned by one of the soused laborers in VN's story Drakon ("The Dragon," 1924):
В ту знаменательную ночь владелец фирмы "Чудо" очень поздно засиделся у себя в конторе. Рядом на столе лежала кипа новых, только что отпечатанных реклам, которые на рассвете артельщики должны были расклеить по городу.
Вдруг в тишине ночи пролетел звонок, и через несколько мгновений вошел тощий бледный человек с бородавкой вроде репейника на правой щеке. Фабрикант его знал: это был содержатель образцового кабака на окраине, сооруженного фирмой "Чудо".
- Второй час, мой друг. Ваш приход могу оправдать только событием неслыханной важности.
- Так оно и есть, - сказал кабатчик спокойным голосом, хотя бородавка его прыгала. И он рассказал следующее.
Он выпроваживал из кабака пятерых старых рабочих, в лоск пьяных. Выйдя на улицу, они, вероятно, увидели нечто весьма любопытное, ибо все рассмеялись.
- О-го-го, - загрохотал голос одного из них. - Я, должно быть, выпил лишнего, если вижу наяву гидру контрр…
Он не успел докончить. Нахлынул страшный, тяжелый шум, кто-то крикнул, кабатчик выглянул. Чудовище, поблескивающее во мраке, как мокрая гора, глотало, закинув морду, что-то крупное, отчего белесая шея его вздувалась переливающимися буграми; проглотив, оно облизнулось, качнулось всем телом и мягко опустилось посреди улицы.
- Я думаю, оно задремало, - досказал кабатчик, остановив пальцем прыгающую бородавку.
Suddenly a bell pierced the silence of the night and, a few moments later, entered a pale, haggard man with a burdocklike wart on his right cheek. The factory owner knew him: he was the proprietor of a model tavern the Miracle Company had set up on the outskirts.
"It's going on two in the morning, my friend. The only justification I can find for your visit is an event of unheard-of importance."
"That's exactly the case," said the tavern keeper in a calm voice, although his wart was twitching. This is what he reported:
He was bundling off five thoroughly soused old laborers. They must have seen something highly curious outdoors, for they all broke out laughing -- "Oh-ho-ho," rumbled one of the voices, "I must have had one glass too many, if I see, big as life, the hydra of counterrevo--"
He did not have time to finish, for there was a surge of terrifying, ponderous noise, and someone screamed. The tavern keeper stepped outside to have a look. A monster, glimmering in the murk like a moist mountain, was swallowing something large with its head thrown back, which made its whitish neck swell with alternating hillocks; it swallowed and licked its chops, its whole body rocked, and it gently lay down in the middle of the street.
"I think it must have dozed off," finished the tavern keeper, restraining the twitching wart with his finger.
"The hydra of counterrevolution" brings to mind hydraulic telephones (dorophones) used on Demonia (aka Antiterra, Earth's twin planet on which Ada is set and on which electricity was banned after the L disaster in the beau milieu of the 19th century). Describing the troments of poor mad Aqua (the twin sister of Van's, Ada's and Lucette's mother Marina), Van says that Revelation can be more perilous than Revolution:
Aqua was not quite twenty when the exaltation of her nature had begun to reveal a morbid trend. Chronologically, the initial stage of her mental illness coincided with the first decade of the Great Revelation, and although she might have found just as easily another theme for her delusion, statistics shows that the Great, and to some Intolerable, Revelation caused more insanity in the world than even an over-preoccupation with religion had in medieval times.
Revelation can be more perilous than Revolution. Sick minds identified the notion of a Terra planet with that of another world and this ‘Other World’ got confused not only with the ‘Next World’ but with the Real World in us and beyond us. Our enchanters, our demons, are noble iridescent creatures with translucent talons and mightily beating wings; but in the eighteen-sixties the New Believers urged one to imagine a sphere where our splendid friends had been utterly degraded, had become nothing but vicious monsters, disgusting devils, with the black scrota of carnivora and the fangs of serpents, revilers and tormentors of female souls; while on the opposite side of the cosmic lane a rainbow mist of angelic spirits, inhabitants of sweet Terra, restored all the stalest but still potent myths of old creeds, with rearrangement for melodeon of all the cacophonies of all the divinities and divines ever spawned in the marshes of this our sufficient world.
Sufficient for your purpose, Van, entendons-nous. (Note in the margin.)
Poor Aqua, whose fancies were apt to fall for all the fangles of cranks and Christians, envisaged vividly a minor hymnist’s paradise, a future America of alabaster buildings one hundred stories high, resembling a beautiful furniture store crammed with tall white-washed wardrobes and shorter fridges; she saw giant flying sharks with lateral eyes taking barely one night to carry pilgrims through black ether across an entire continent from dark to shining sea, before booming back to Seattle or Wark. She heard magic-music boxes talking and singing, drowning the terror of thought, uplifting the lift girl, riding down with the miner, praising beauty and godliness, the Virgin and Venus in the dwellings of the lonely and the poor. The unmentionable magnetic power denounced by evil lawmakers in this our shabby country — oh, everywhere, in Estoty and Canady, in ‘German’ Mark Kennensie, as well as in ‘Swedish’ Manitobogan, in the workshop of the red-shirted Yukonets as well as in the kitchen of the red-kerchiefed Lyaskanka, and in ‘French’ Estoty, from Bras d’Or to Ladore — and very soon throughout both our Americas, and all over the other stunned continents — was used on Terra as freely as water and air, as bibles and brooms. Two or three centuries earlier she might have been just another consumable witch. (1.3)
Darkbloom ('Notes to Ada'): entendons-nous: let’s have it clear (Fr.).
Yukonets: inhabitant of Yukon (Russ.).
The Book of Revelation or Book of the Apocalypse is the final book of the New Testament (and therefore the final book of the Christian Bible). The name of Van's adversary in a pistol duel, Tapper brings to mind the language of tap water to which Aqua developed a morbid sensitivity:
She developed a morbid sensitivity to the language of tap water — which echoes sometimes (much as the bloodstream does predormitarily) a fragment of human speech lingering in one’s ears while one washes one’s hands after cocktails with strangers. Upon first noticing this immediate, sustained, and in her case rather eager and mocking but really quite harmless replay of this or that recent discourse, she felt tickled at the thought that she, poor Aqua, had accidentally hit upon such a simple method of recording and transmitting speech, while technologists (the so-called Eggheads) all over the world were trying to make publicly utile and commercially rewarding the extremely elaborate and still very expensive, hydrodynamic telephones and other miserable gadgets that were to replace those that had gone k chertyam sobach’im (Russian ‘to the devil’) with the banning of an unmentionable ‘lammer.’ Soon, however, the rhythmically perfect, but verbally rather blurred volubility of faucets began to acquire too much pertinent sense. The purity of the running water’s enunciation grew in proportion to the nuisance it made of itself. It spoke soon after she had listened, or been exposed, to somebody talking — not necessarily to her — forcibly and expressively, a person with a rapid characteristic voice, and very individual or very foreign phrasal intonations, some compulsive narrator’s patter at a horrible party, or a liquid soliloquy in a tedious play, or Van’s lovely voice, or a bit of poetry heard at a lecture, my lad, my pretty, my love, take pity, but especially the more fluid and flou Italian verse, for instance that ditty recited between knee-knocking and palpebra-lifting, by a half-Russian, half-dotty old doctor, doc, toc, ditty, dotty, ballatetta, deboletta... tu, voce sbigottita... spigotty e diavoletta... de lo cor dolente... con ballatetta va... va... della strutta, destruttamente... mente... mente... stop that record, or the guide will go on demonstrating as he did this very morning in Florence a silly pillar commemorating, he said, the ‘elmo’ that broke into leaf when they carried stone-heavy-dead St Zeus by it through the gradual, gradual shade; or the Arlington harridan talking incessantly to her silent husband as the vineyards sped by, and even in the tunnel (they can’t do this to you, you tell them, Jack Black, you just tell them...). Bathwater (or shower) was too much of a Caliban to speak distinctly — or perhaps was too brutally anxious to emit the hot torrent and get rid of the infernal ardor — to bother about small talk; but the burbly flowlets grew more and more ambitious and odious, and when at her first ‘home’ she heard one of the most hateful of the visiting doctors (the Cavalcanti quoter) garrulously pour hateful instructions in Russian-lapped German into her hateful bidet, she decided to stop turning on tap water altogether. (1.3)
Darkbloom (‘Notes to Ada’): lammer: amber (Fr: l’ambre), allusion to electricity.
my lad, my pretty, etc: paraphrase of a verse in Housman.
ballatetta: fragmentation and distortion of a passage in a ‘little ballad’ by the Italian poet Guido Cavalcanti (1255–1300). The relevant lines are: ‘you frightened and weak little voice that comes weeping from my woeful heart, go with my soul and that ditty, telling of a destroyed mind.’
Before the family dinner in “Ardis the Second” Van tells Demon that the Ardis tap water is not recommended:
‘Van...,’ began Demon, but stopped — as he had begun and stopped a number of times before in the course of the last years. Some day it would have to be said, but this was not the right moment. He inserted his monocle and examined the bottles: ‘By the way, son, do you crave any of these aperitifs? My father allowed me Lilletovka and that Illinois Brat — awful bilge, antranou svadi, as Marina would say. I suspect your uncle has a cache behind the solanders in his study and keeps there a finer whisky than this usque ad Russkum. Well, let us have the cognac, as planned, unless you are a filius aquae?’
(No pun intended, but one gets carried away and goofs.)
‘Oh, I prefer claret. I’ll concentrate (nalyagu) on the Latour later on. No, I’m certainly no T-totaler, and besides the Ardis tap water is not recommended!’ (1.38)
Describing the first occasion on which he saw Ada, Van uses the phrase k chertyam sobach’im (to the devils):
Before his boarding-school days started, his father’s pretty house, in Florentine style, between two vacant lots (5 Park Lane in Manhattan), had been Van’s winter home (two giant guards were soon to rise on both sides of it, ready to frog-march it away), unless they journeyed abroad. Summers in Radugalet, the ‘other Ardis,’ were so much colder and duller than those here in this, Ada’s, Ardis. Once he even spent both winter and summer there; it must have been in 1878.
Of course, of course, because that was the first time, Ada recalled, she had glimpsed him. In his little white sailor suit and blue sailor cap. (Un régulier angelochek, commented Van in the Raduga jargon.) He was eight, she was six. Uncle Dan had unexpectedly expressed the desire to revisit the old estate. At the last moment Marina had said she’d come too, despite Dan’s protests, and had lifted little Ada, hopla, with her hoop, into the calèche. They took, she imagined, the train from Ladoga to Raduga, for she remembered the way the station man with the whistle around his neck went along the platform, past the coaches of the stopped local, banging shut door after door, all six doors of every carriage, each of which consisted of six one-window carrosses of pumpkin origin, fused together. It was, Van suggested, a ‘tower in the mist’ (as she called any good recollection), and then a conductor walked on the running board of every coach with the train also running and opened doors all over again to give, punch, collect tickets, and lick his thumb, and change money, a hell of a job, but another ‘mauve tower.’ Did they hire a motor landaulet to Radugalet? Ten miles, she guessed. Ten versts, said Van. She stood corrected. He was out, he imagined, na progulke (promenading) in the gloomy firwood with Aksakov, his tutor, and Bagrov’s grandson, a neighbor’s boy, whom he teased and pinched and made horrible fun of, a nice quiet little fellow who quietly massacred moles and anything else with fur on, probably pathological. However, when they arrived, it became instantly clear that Demon had not expected ladies. He was on the terrace drinking goldwine (sweet whisky) with an orphan he had adopted, he said, a lovely Irish wild rose in whom Marina at once recognized an impudent scullery maid who had briefly worked at Ardis Hall, and had been ravished by an unknown gentleman — who was now well-known. In those days Uncle Dan wore a monocle in gay-dog copy of his cousin, and this he screwed in to view Rose, whom perhaps he had also been promised (here Van interrupted his interlocutor telling her to mind her vocabulary). The party was a disaster. The orphan languidly took off her pearl earrings for Marina’s appraisal. Grandpa Bagrov hobbled in from a nap in the boudoir and mistook Marina for a grande cocotte as the enraged lady conjectured later when she had a chance to get at poor Dan. Instead of staying for the night, Marina stalked off and called Ada who, having been told to ‘play in the garden,’ was mumbling and numbering in raw-flesh red the white trunks of a row of young birches with Rose’s purloined lipstick in the preamble to a game she now could not remember — what a pity, said Van — when her mother swept her back straight to Ardis in the same taxi leaving Dan — to his devices and vices, inserted Van — and arriving home at sunrise. But, added Ada, just before being whisked away and deprived of her crayon (tossed out by Marina k chertyam sobach’im, to hell’s hounds — and it did remind one of Rose’s terrier that had kept trying to hug Dan’s leg) the charming glimpse was granted her of tiny Van, with another sweet boy, and blond-bearded, white-bloused Aksakov, walking up to the house, and, oh yes, she had forgotten her hoop — no, it was still in the taxi. But, personally, Van had not the slightest recollection of that visit or indeed of that particular summer, because his father’s life, anyway, was a rose garden all the time, and he had been caressed by ungloved lovely hands more than once himself, which did not interest Ada. (1.24)
Darkbloom ('Notes to Ada'): Bagrov’s grandson: allusion to Childhood Years of Bagrov’s Grandson by the minor writer Sergey Aksakov (A.D. 1791-1859).
In Sergey Aksakov's novel Detskie gody Bagrova vnuka ("The Childhood Years of Bagrov's Grandson," 1858) the hero tells his little sister (who is frightened and complains to her nurse) the stories about the seven-headed Zmey Gorynych:
И так-неприметно устроился у нас особый мир в тесном углу нашем, в нашей гостиной комнате. Первые дни после отъезда отца и матери я провел в беспрестанной тоске и слезах, но мало-помалу успокоился, осмотрелся вокруг себя и устроился. Всякий день я принимался учить читать маленькую сестрицу, и совершенно без пользы, потому что во всё время пребывания нашего в Багрове она не выучила даже азбуки. Всякий день заставлял ее слушать «Детское чтение», читая сряду все статьи без исключения, хотя многих сам не понимал. Бедная слушательница моя часто зевала, напряженно устремив на меня свои прекрасные глазки, и засыпала иногда под мое чтение; тогда я принимался с ней играть, строя городки и церкви из чурочек или дома, в которых хозяевами были ее куклы; самая любимая ее игра была игра «в гости»: мы садились по разным углам, я брал к себе одну или две из ее кукол, с которыми приезжал в гости к сестрице, то есть переходил из одного угла в другой. У сестрицы всегда было несколько кукол, которые все назывались ее дочками или племянницами; тут было много разговоров и угощений, полное передразниванье больших людей. Я очень помню, что пускался в разные выдумки и рассказывал разные небывалые со мной приключения, некоторым основанием или образцом которых были прочитанные мною в книжках или слышанные происшествия. Так, например, я рассказывал, что у меня в доме был пожар, что я выпрыгнул с двумя детьми из окошка (то есть с двумя куклами, которых держал в руках); или что на меня напали разбойники и я всех их победил; наконец, что в багровском саду есть пещера, в которой живет Змей Горыныч о семи головах, и что я намерен их отрубить. Мне очень было приятно, что мои рассказы производили впечатление на мою сестрицу и что мне иногда удавалось даже напугать ее; одну ночь она худо спала, просыпалась, плакала и всё видела во сне то разбойников, то Змея Горыныча и прибавляла, что это братец ее напугал. ("The Stay in Bagrovo without Father and Mother")