''Vladimir Nabokov's Comic Quest for Reality' - Nottingham eTheses

''Vladimir Nabokov's Comic Quest for Reality' - Nottingham eTheses ''Vladimir Nabokov's Comic Quest for Reality' - Nottingham eTheses

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- 271 - that he expects to find in one particular place "were nowhere to be seen" (90). Separate scenes and places have combined and merged in his mind and formed the images of surroundings that have no counterparts in reality, and in the same way Hugh's memory had bunched into one path the several wood trails and logging roads that led to the first difficult stage of the ascent... No wonder he soon lost his way (89). Sadly he cannot even find the spot in the woods where for the first and only time Armande showed some signs of genuine emotion. Hugh's experience suggests the conclusion that his memory is not a very efficient instrument in the kind of quest he is undertaking. Contrary to all his hopes and expectations it proves to be useless in his at- tempt to find access to the past. Where he hopes to catch one glimpse of it, to evoke and capture one of its. cherished images, his memory plays tricks on him by getting his old impressions mixed up; it creates obstacles and blocks his view. It is seen to fail in another, much more crucial respect. "A thin veneer of immediate reality is spread over natural and artificial matter", the author says (2). So thin is this veneer (it is like a "tension film" [2]) that it is easy to break it. And behind (or under) this veneer (the "now" of things) their past can be perceived (and much more, as will be seen). For the artist, in fact, it may not be necessary to break the film deliberately. He needs only concentrate on an object to sink into its past and history without

- 272 - a conscious effort. Things are transparent, the past shines through them (1). The author illustrates what he means by picking a pencil as an example. It is implicit in this example that the "thin veneer of immediate reality" is formed by all the qualities a thing has at present. The pencil is described in great detail: It was not a hexagonal beauty of Virginia juniper or African cedar, with the maker's name imprinted in silver foil, but a very plain, round, technically faceless old pencil of cheap pine, dyed a dingy lilac... the pencil has been worn down to two-thirds of its original length. The bare wood of its tapered end has darkened to plumbeous plum, thus merging in tint with the blunt tip of graphite whose blind gloss alone distinguishes it from the wood (6-7). This, then, is the "now" of the pencil. In an "act of attention" (6) the author manages to see through what constitutes its present reality and to move about freely in space and time to trace its complete his- tory. He does well to utter a warning to novices to be careful and not break the tension film if they wish to remain in the now, because they might fall through the surface unawares and get lost in the unforeseen maze that awaits them below. The sense of being lost in a maze of interrelated matter seizes even the reader who, after all, has the author to guide him. For not only is one informed about what the pencil looked like at thekvarious stages of its existence; not only is its history unfolded; the pencil also gives occasion for a description of how it was made and of what material went into it, allowing glimpses of the "fleecy fat-giver being

- 272 -<br />

a conscious ef<strong>for</strong>t. Things are transparent, the past<br />

shines through them (1).<br />

The author illustrates what he means by picking a<br />

pencil as an example. It is implicit in this example<br />

that the "thin veneer of immediate reality" is <strong>for</strong>med<br />

by all the qualities a thing has at present. The pencil<br />

is described in great detail:<br />

It was not a hexagonal beauty of Virginia<br />

juniper or African cedar, with the maker's<br />

name imprinted in silver foil, but a very<br />

plain, round, technically faceless old<br />

pencil of cheap pine, dyed a dingy lilac...<br />

the pencil has been worn down to two-thirds<br />

of its original length. The bare wood of<br />

its tapered end has darkened to plumbeous<br />

plum, thus merging in tint with the blunt<br />

tip of graphite whose blind gloss alone<br />

distinguishes it from the wood (6-7).<br />

This, then, is the "now" of the pencil. In an "act<br />

of attention" (6) the author manages to see through<br />

what constitutes its present reality and to move about<br />

freely in space and time to trace its complete his-<br />

tory. He does well to utter a warning to novices to<br />

be careful and not break the tension film if they<br />

wish to remain in the now, because they might fall<br />

through the surface unawares and get lost in the un<strong>for</strong>eseen<br />

maze that awaits them below.<br />

The sense of being lost in a maze of interrelated<br />

matter seizes even the reader who, after all, has the<br />

author to guide him. For not only is one in<strong>for</strong>med<br />

about what the pencil looked like at thekvarious stages<br />

of its existence; not only is its history unfolded;<br />

the pencil also gives occasion <strong>for</strong> a description of<br />

how it was made and of what material went into it,<br />

allowing glimpses of the "fleecy fat-giver being

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