Lewd. Loud. Irreverent. Gay. Woof.
WHERE ARE YOU? What in the hell is going on? This is very unlike you. I think. Hope all is well
What happened to my comment?...
I miss reading about and seeing you buddy! Hope you are doing well.
Did he "get" Nabokov?... "I loved the humor of Nabokov's fiction, his aristocratic me'pris for morons and pedants, his lively if mocking appreciation of madmen. At the secret heart of his writing was a certain sentimentality: a doting on the couple; a belief in romantic love; a chivalric scorn for bullies and a consecrated respect for women who were as clever as they were beautiful; a hot, irrational cult of sex and of sexual passion, but not its mechanical replications. This dandified, Romantic code, so vulnerable to the world's crude scorn, he protected by ringing it round with the magic fire of his humor, his aggressive dismissal of everyone else, his satirical stabs at Freud, academics, Marx, progressive education, and crass commercialism. For Nabokov everything not coherent with his own cool, elegant style was vulgar or kitsch, a kind of poshlust (his name for a special form of Russian romantic pomposity)." --Edmund White. City Boy. 2009. page 104.
It is a deadly attack, because White, whose first novel Nabokov praised more highly than any other novel by an American, except for Nabokov's own novels, of course, does understand some things.The attack fails, because Nabokov knew what love is, knew that the question of honor is not ridiculous. Nobokov knew that Don Quixote is funny and also for real a hero. And that love might, after all, win, even if all mortal beauty, perhaps the only beauty there is, always dies.It is only an attack because there is nothing "dandified" in Nabokov that needs any artifice to protect.
tap tap - this thing on?i think i saw pics of you from blowoff, so you look well and happy - good. have a great thanksgiving eric.
Post a Comment