Subject
Re: Fwd: Nabokov in his autobiography "Speak, Memory" ...
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Dear List,
How nice to hear from you again. Umberto Eco´s book will be my next
week-end´s treat. While I was having breakfast today I suddenly remembered
two passages about terrible drinks: Dostoevski´s tea with raspberry syrup
and Mrs. Chamar´s juice concocted with tepid tapwater and strawberry jam.
Their connection appears to be slight, but the "berry" appears in both and
the list has discussed berries in relation to the Russian word indicating
both fruit and Stalin´s spies. In "Ada" we see a close reference to the
wives of Lincoln and Napoleon ( and indirectly Pres. Johnson´s Ladybird ).
In "Transparent Things" the only part that called my attention was the
dreamlike quality of the house´s architecture that helped us to see thru
walls from top to ground levels.
I would like to learn more, if anyone can aid me to confirm or not the link
bt. TT and ADA.
ADA:
'I used to love history,' said Marina, 'I loved to identify myself with
famous women. There's a ladybird on your plate, Ivan. Especially with famous
beauties - Lincoln's second wife or Queen Josephine.'
'Yes, I've noticed - it's beautifully done. We've got a similar set at home.
'
'Slivok (some cream)? I hope you speak Russian?' Marina asked Van, as she
poured him a cup of tea.
'Neohotno no sovershenno svobodno (reluctantly but quite fluently),' replied
Van, slegka ulïbnuvshis' (with a slight smile). 'Yes, lots of cream and
three lumps of sugar.'
'Ada and I share your extravagant tastes. Dostoevski liked it with raspberry
syrup.'
'Pah,' uttered Ada.
Transparent Things:
"Everything is well," she declared cozily, and stood up, now robed in bright
terry cloth with the suddenness of a magic metamorphosis. "Come, I want to
offer you a nice cold drink and show you my albums."
The drink turned out to be a tall faceted glass of tepid tapwater with a
spoonful of homemade strawberry jam clouding it a mallowish hue. The albums,
four big bound volumes, were laid out on a very low, very round table in the
very moderne living room.
"I now leave you for some minutes," said Madame Chamar, and in full view of
the public ascended with ponderous energy the completely visible and
audible stairs leading to a similarly overt second floor, where one could
see a bed through an open door and a bidet through another. Armande used to
say that this product of her late father's art was a regular showpiece
attracting tourists from distant countries such as Rhodesia and Japan.
Jansy
----- Original Message -----
From: "Donald B. Johnson" <chtodel@gss.ucsb.edu>
To: <NABOKV-L@LISTSERV.UCSB.EDU>
Sent: Saturday, June 11, 2005 8:26 PM
Subject: Fwd: Nabokov in his autobiography "Speak, Memory" ...
EDNOTE. I would add to the below that Umberto Eco (whose very name sounds
like
VN made it up) wrote a short VN parody a good many years
ago,--------------------
----- Forwarded message from spklein52@hotmail.com -----
Date: Tue, 07 Jun 2005 01:11:23 -0400
From: "Sandy P. Klein" <spklein52@hotmail.com>
Reply-To: SPKlein52@HotMail.com
Subject: Nabokov in his autobiography "Speak, Memory" ...
To: SPKlein52@HotMail.com
------------------ [1]
http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0607/p16s02-bogn.html[2]
Playing in the attic of Italy under Il Duce
Christian Science Monitor - 7 hours ago
... "Mnemosyne, one must admit, has shown herself to be a very
careless girl," says VLADIMIR NABOKOV in his autobiography "Speak,
Memory," and the Russian author ...
[3]
from the June 07, 2005 edition -
http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0607/p16s02-bogn.html
PLAYING IN THE ATTIC OF ITALY UNDER IL DUCE
LIKED \'NAME OF THE ROSE\' AND \'BARTLETT\'S QUOTATIONS\'? YOU\'LL
LOVE THIS ECO
BY YVONNE ZIPP
A man wakes up from a coma with no memory of who he is. It's a
well-worn plot device - either classic or clichéd, depending on the
skill of the storyteller - that has played a pivotal role in the
careers of everyone from assassin Jason Bourne to Kermit the Frog.
Meet Giambattista "Yambo" Bodoni, an antiquarian book dealer who can
remember every poem and novel he's ever read but can't recognize the
faces of his wife or daughters. Since Yambo is the creation of
Italian author Umberto Eco, he's very well read indeed.
It's a crisis that should inspire feelings of panic or pathos, but
since Yambo displays a breathtaking lack of curiosity about either
the woman with whom he's spent 30 years or the two daughters that he
apparently used to dote on, it evokes more of a shrug.
Yambo spends his first few days out of the hospital obsessing about
whether he's ever bedded his lovely blond assistant. Since the first
thing his wife, Paola, told him about their marriage was that he'd
had affairs - lots of them - this is apparently par for the course.
Eco has no interest in exploring "Regarding Henry" territory; his
protagonist isn't about to use a bout of amnesia to do something so
banal as become a better person. Instead, Eco uses Yambo's plight to
catalog the collective memory of the generation of Italians who grew
up under Benito Mussolini.
In an effort to recover his memory, Yambo leaves Milan for his
family's country home, Solara, to sift through the paper trail of his
childhood. He spends his days in the "hazel silence of the attic,"
trying to construct a "paper memory."
Eco does more than tell us what Yambo is reading - he shows us, with
gorgeous reproductions of Strand magazine illustrations, stamps,
fascist anthems, and Flash Gordon comics that pepper the story's
pages. (Not all of them are ones you'd want your kids leafing
through: There's a table of torture and a risqué picture or two.)
It's a gimmick but an effective one, and one that longtime fans of
Eco will definitely appreciate, since he has said in interviews that
most of the memorabilia comes from his personal collection. Yambo,
like Eco, also has a vast collection of literary quotations about
fog. (I recognized about two: Carl Sandburg's "the fog comes on
little cat feet," and Dickens's opening to "Bleak House.")
Those who don't enjoy the occasional ramble through "Bartlett's
Quotations" may quickly lose patience with "Queen Loana," but
bookworms will get an added kick out of puzzling out the dozens of
literary allusions. Even more than Eco's "The Name of the Rose," his
new novel "is a tale of books." It's probably illegal to write a book
about memory without referencing Marcel Proust and his crumbly cookie,
but Eco is just as erudite about Mandrake the Magician.
When the doctor asks if Yambo can remember his name, he replies, "My
name is Arthur Gordon Pym," the opening line of Edgar Allan Poe's only
novel, "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket," considered
by some to be an inspiration for "Moby-Dick." When asked to try
again, Yambo says, "Call me Ishmael?" (See, it's fun!) Yambo is as
much at sea as those two shipwrecked gents: He gets "mysterious
flames" of recognition, but he can only tell that he remembers, not
what the memory is.
"Mnemosyne, one must admit, has shown herself to be a very careless
girl," says Vladimir Nabokov in his autobiography "Speak, Memory,"
and the Russian author knew all about the impossibility of
reconstructing emotional memory from paper. "I have often noticed
that after I had bestowed on the characters of my novels some
treasured item of my past, it would pine away in the artificial world
where I had so abruptly placed it. Although it lingered on in my mind,
its personal warmth, its retrospective appeal had gone."
It takes a second coma for Yambo to access his memories and for the
reader to learn how fog, stamps from Fiji, and the comic book sound
"sfft" are all inextricably linked. Less of a payoff (for the reader
anyway) are Yambo's returning memories of Lila Saba, the object of
his lifelong obsession.
"The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana" is impressive in the sheer
breadth of knowledge intertwined to form a national consciousness,
and the tale it tells is engaging, but it could have had even more
resonance if its protagonist had been less self-absorbed. To a
certain degree, his life story shares the same shortcoming that Yambo
diagnoses in himself: "I don't have feelings, I only have memorable
sayings."
. _Yvonne Zipp is a freelance writer in Kalamazoo, Mich._
The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana
By Umberto Eco
_Harcourt_449 pp, $27
Full HTML version of this story which may include photos, graphics,
and related links[4]
THE MYSTERIOUS FLAME OF QUEEN LOANA
By Umberto Eco
Harcourt
449 pp, $27
Links:
------
[1] http://www.csmonitor.com/
[2] http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0607/p16s02-bogn.html
[3] http://www.csmonitor.com/index.html
[4] http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0607/p16s02-bogn.html
----- End forwarded message -----
----- End forwarded message -----
How nice to hear from you again. Umberto Eco´s book will be my next
week-end´s treat. While I was having breakfast today I suddenly remembered
two passages about terrible drinks: Dostoevski´s tea with raspberry syrup
and Mrs. Chamar´s juice concocted with tepid tapwater and strawberry jam.
Their connection appears to be slight, but the "berry" appears in both and
the list has discussed berries in relation to the Russian word indicating
both fruit and Stalin´s spies. In "Ada" we see a close reference to the
wives of Lincoln and Napoleon ( and indirectly Pres. Johnson´s Ladybird ).
In "Transparent Things" the only part that called my attention was the
dreamlike quality of the house´s architecture that helped us to see thru
walls from top to ground levels.
I would like to learn more, if anyone can aid me to confirm or not the link
bt. TT and ADA.
ADA:
'I used to love history,' said Marina, 'I loved to identify myself with
famous women. There's a ladybird on your plate, Ivan. Especially with famous
beauties - Lincoln's second wife or Queen Josephine.'
'Yes, I've noticed - it's beautifully done. We've got a similar set at home.
'
'Slivok (some cream)? I hope you speak Russian?' Marina asked Van, as she
poured him a cup of tea.
'Neohotno no sovershenno svobodno (reluctantly but quite fluently),' replied
Van, slegka ulïbnuvshis' (with a slight smile). 'Yes, lots of cream and
three lumps of sugar.'
'Ada and I share your extravagant tastes. Dostoevski liked it with raspberry
syrup.'
'Pah,' uttered Ada.
Transparent Things:
"Everything is well," she declared cozily, and stood up, now robed in bright
terry cloth with the suddenness of a magic metamorphosis. "Come, I want to
offer you a nice cold drink and show you my albums."
The drink turned out to be a tall faceted glass of tepid tapwater with a
spoonful of homemade strawberry jam clouding it a mallowish hue. The albums,
four big bound volumes, were laid out on a very low, very round table in the
very moderne living room.
"I now leave you for some minutes," said Madame Chamar, and in full view of
the public ascended with ponderous energy the completely visible and
audible stairs leading to a similarly overt second floor, where one could
see a bed through an open door and a bidet through another. Armande used to
say that this product of her late father's art was a regular showpiece
attracting tourists from distant countries such as Rhodesia and Japan.
Jansy
----- Original Message -----
From: "Donald B. Johnson" <chtodel@gss.ucsb.edu>
To: <NABOKV-L@LISTSERV.UCSB.EDU>
Sent: Saturday, June 11, 2005 8:26 PM
Subject: Fwd: Nabokov in his autobiography "Speak, Memory" ...
EDNOTE. I would add to the below that Umberto Eco (whose very name sounds
like
VN made it up) wrote a short VN parody a good many years
ago,--------------------
----- Forwarded message from spklein52@hotmail.com -----
Date: Tue, 07 Jun 2005 01:11:23 -0400
From: "Sandy P. Klein" <spklein52@hotmail.com>
Reply-To: SPKlein52@HotMail.com
Subject: Nabokov in his autobiography "Speak, Memory" ...
To: SPKlein52@HotMail.com
------------------ [1]
http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0607/p16s02-bogn.html[2]
Playing in the attic of Italy under Il Duce
Christian Science Monitor - 7 hours ago
... "Mnemosyne, one must admit, has shown herself to be a very
careless girl," says VLADIMIR NABOKOV in his autobiography "Speak,
Memory," and the Russian author ...
[3]
from the June 07, 2005 edition -
http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0607/p16s02-bogn.html
PLAYING IN THE ATTIC OF ITALY UNDER IL DUCE
LIKED \'NAME OF THE ROSE\' AND \'BARTLETT\'S QUOTATIONS\'? YOU\'LL
LOVE THIS ECO
BY YVONNE ZIPP
A man wakes up from a coma with no memory of who he is. It's a
well-worn plot device - either classic or clichéd, depending on the
skill of the storyteller - that has played a pivotal role in the
careers of everyone from assassin Jason Bourne to Kermit the Frog.
Meet Giambattista "Yambo" Bodoni, an antiquarian book dealer who can
remember every poem and novel he's ever read but can't recognize the
faces of his wife or daughters. Since Yambo is the creation of
Italian author Umberto Eco, he's very well read indeed.
It's a crisis that should inspire feelings of panic or pathos, but
since Yambo displays a breathtaking lack of curiosity about either
the woman with whom he's spent 30 years or the two daughters that he
apparently used to dote on, it evokes more of a shrug.
Yambo spends his first few days out of the hospital obsessing about
whether he's ever bedded his lovely blond assistant. Since the first
thing his wife, Paola, told him about their marriage was that he'd
had affairs - lots of them - this is apparently par for the course.
Eco has no interest in exploring "Regarding Henry" territory; his
protagonist isn't about to use a bout of amnesia to do something so
banal as become a better person. Instead, Eco uses Yambo's plight to
catalog the collective memory of the generation of Italians who grew
up under Benito Mussolini.
In an effort to recover his memory, Yambo leaves Milan for his
family's country home, Solara, to sift through the paper trail of his
childhood. He spends his days in the "hazel silence of the attic,"
trying to construct a "paper memory."
Eco does more than tell us what Yambo is reading - he shows us, with
gorgeous reproductions of Strand magazine illustrations, stamps,
fascist anthems, and Flash Gordon comics that pepper the story's
pages. (Not all of them are ones you'd want your kids leafing
through: There's a table of torture and a risqué picture or two.)
It's a gimmick but an effective one, and one that longtime fans of
Eco will definitely appreciate, since he has said in interviews that
most of the memorabilia comes from his personal collection. Yambo,
like Eco, also has a vast collection of literary quotations about
fog. (I recognized about two: Carl Sandburg's "the fog comes on
little cat feet," and Dickens's opening to "Bleak House.")
Those who don't enjoy the occasional ramble through "Bartlett's
Quotations" may quickly lose patience with "Queen Loana," but
bookworms will get an added kick out of puzzling out the dozens of
literary allusions. Even more than Eco's "The Name of the Rose," his
new novel "is a tale of books." It's probably illegal to write a book
about memory without referencing Marcel Proust and his crumbly cookie,
but Eco is just as erudite about Mandrake the Magician.
When the doctor asks if Yambo can remember his name, he replies, "My
name is Arthur Gordon Pym," the opening line of Edgar Allan Poe's only
novel, "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket," considered
by some to be an inspiration for "Moby-Dick." When asked to try
again, Yambo says, "Call me Ishmael?" (See, it's fun!) Yambo is as
much at sea as those two shipwrecked gents: He gets "mysterious
flames" of recognition, but he can only tell that he remembers, not
what the memory is.
"Mnemosyne, one must admit, has shown herself to be a very careless
girl," says Vladimir Nabokov in his autobiography "Speak, Memory,"
and the Russian author knew all about the impossibility of
reconstructing emotional memory from paper. "I have often noticed
that after I had bestowed on the characters of my novels some
treasured item of my past, it would pine away in the artificial world
where I had so abruptly placed it. Although it lingered on in my mind,
its personal warmth, its retrospective appeal had gone."
It takes a second coma for Yambo to access his memories and for the
reader to learn how fog, stamps from Fiji, and the comic book sound
"sfft" are all inextricably linked. Less of a payoff (for the reader
anyway) are Yambo's returning memories of Lila Saba, the object of
his lifelong obsession.
"The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana" is impressive in the sheer
breadth of knowledge intertwined to form a national consciousness,
and the tale it tells is engaging, but it could have had even more
resonance if its protagonist had been less self-absorbed. To a
certain degree, his life story shares the same shortcoming that Yambo
diagnoses in himself: "I don't have feelings, I only have memorable
sayings."
. _Yvonne Zipp is a freelance writer in Kalamazoo, Mich._
The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana
By Umberto Eco
_Harcourt_449 pp, $27
Full HTML version of this story which may include photos, graphics,
and related links[4]
THE MYSTERIOUS FLAME OF QUEEN LOANA
By Umberto Eco
Harcourt
449 pp, $27
Links:
------
[1] http://www.csmonitor.com/
[2] http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0607/p16s02-bogn.html
[3] http://www.csmonitor.com/index.html
[4] http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0607/p16s02-bogn.html
----- End forwarded message -----
----- End forwarded message -----