I think there are other references to Wonderland in PF, though I can't come up with anything just now. Chess, of course ...
No apologies, please - - the more the merrier?
Dear
Carolyn,
You encourage me.
There may be too many merry cooks in this broth already, but I don’t need much
encouragement, so here goes.
Carroll’s Wonderland
and Looking-Glass are two of the greatest and most memorable literary works in
English of the 19th century, just as VN’s Lolita and Pale Fire are
two of the ditto in the 20th century.
Wonderland is an
account of a child’s introduction to, or initiation into, the hideous and
nastily coercive world of adulthood; Looking-Glass is a reflection on identity
and reality. Wonderland is visceral; it is disturbing, uneasy and unpleasant.
Looking-Glass is cerebral; light, hyper-rational and
enjoyable.
These terms apply
equally to Lolita and Pale Fire: the similarities are more striking than the
differences. All four books use the English language in an exceptionally playful
manner. Language is perceived as inherently misleading and ambiguous; in a word,
inadequate, as a means of penetrating the mysteries of existence.
Impenetrability, as Humpty Dumpty’s dismissal has it. I would suggest that Pale
Fire is ultimately impenetrable. Metamorphosis is also a theme in all four
books.
The structure of
Wonderland, the enchanted, or more precisely distorted, place, is that of a deck
of cards. The story ends in disintegration: society collapses like a house of
cards, which reminds me, at least, of Lolita.
Looking-Glass,
however, is structured on the game of chess. Bretwit might be a variation of the
game. One of the features of chess is that the white and black (or in Carroll’s
book, red, ie Zemblan) pieces begin by being set up as mirror-images of each
other. In chess it is possible for each side exactly to replicate the initial
three or four moves. Beyond a certain point, however, interference takes place
and the entanglement of the pieces swiftly develops into infinite complexity, of
an order exceeding the number of atoms in the universe.
Both the four-suited pack of cards and the chess-board are symmetrical constructs. Human language, and thought itself, I suggest, would be impossible without mankind’s propensity to classify, and arrange its sense-data in symmetrical form. Light is not conceivable without darkness. Words are simply classifications of perceptions. Chess would not be playable if all the pieces and all the squares were the same colour.
Dualism is therefore
a necessary prerequisite for human communication. Monism, in my limited
understanding, leads to a Nirvana-like state where everything is nothing, or
vice versa; light and dark merge; there is no communication, and the ego melts
into the infinite. The state is amusingly expressed in Andrew Lang’s parody of
Emerson’s Brahma: “I am the batsman and the bat” etc.
Can the dualistic
propensity and the monistic longing be reconciled? I seem to remember that
someone on this thread mentioned the kaleidoscope. All four books, LC’s and VN’s
are kaleidoscopic, while at the same time retaining the semblance of a linear
narrative. The sequence of events, in a sense, are chopped up and deposited in a
kaleidoscope. This satisfies the reader’s desire for pattern, while at the same
time any slight disturbance of the cylinder will alter that pattern, which is never to be repeated
--- provided there are a sufficient number of pieces. The miniimum number would
either be 32 (chess pieces), 52 (cards) or 64 (chess squares). A kaleidoscope is
an extremely pleasing toy.
Well, that’s enough
of that. Now for something different.
I think it is in his Eugen Onegin that VN refers to a “translator” who is
so abominable that he can’t bring himself to mention the person by name. I have
always wanted to believe that this person must be none other than Ezra Pound,
whose productions, personality and politics would assuredly be abhorrent to
Nabokov. Can anyone offer any support for this assumption?
Charles Harrison
Wallace