In any case I am looking forward to seeing a lot of you and Harry Levin next soring.
Sincerely yours,
I.S. T is tyoewriter is falling aoart but a new one is on its way.
TO: ELENA SIKORSKI
ALS, 2 pp. Elena Sikorski.
623 Highland Rd.
Ithaca, N.Y.
6.IX.1951
My dear Elenochka,
There has been a slight lightening of my "workload," and I hasten to put this respite to good use. Your description of your co-workers was highly entertaining. I enclose a money order for 30 d. (20 for IX and 10 on account for X). I'll try to do likewise in XI. Véra wrote you at my behest, but your letters must have crossed. It was a bit awkward that you asked P. for help before I sent you the money, but probably my inefficiency is mainly to blame. Please confirm whether you have received everything, including this little check of mine.
Last spring we got rid of the house on Seneca St., which was ruining us, sold the furniture that was ours including the upright piano, and, lightly laden, set out for the whole summer in our aging car, across swollen rivers and through unbelievable thunderstorms, for the West. Now, having returned, we occupy a far more agreeable house, and, come next semester (February—June), shall have to go temporarily to Harvard University, in Cambridge, where I am going to give two courses in Russian literature and one in general literature.
Mityusha is already attending Harvard; he is seventeen and enormous, he sings bass in an Episcopalian church choir, and he is interested, in the following order, in: mountain climbing, girls, music, track, tennis, and his studies. At the same time he is gifted, intelligent, knows his way around every intellectual area, and has written his first poem and his first short story. Yet in many ways he is still the little boy he was when, all golden, he played on the beach in Menton or Santa Monica. See—you must grab and hold in the fist of your soul everything about Zhikochka1 today: that way it will all shine through him, too, for a long time.
We traveled to Colorado, then to Montana. Mityusha would take the numerous terrifying curves, overlooking precipices, with a graceful but somewhat exhausting flourish, after which it was bliss to return to Véra's wonderful, steady tempo.
He left us to take part in the national forensic championship in Los Angeles, then joined us in Telluride, a little old mining town in the San Juan Mountains of Southwestern Colorado. I went all that way over unpaved, broken-up mountain roads in specific search of a butterfly that I myself had described in 1948 on the basis of nine museum specimens; I had an overwhelming desire to see it live and discover its unknown female. The altitude of Telluride is 9000 feet (3000 meters), and from there I had to climb on foot every morning to 12,000 feet (4000 meters), and I am fat and heavy, although I still have my soccer calves. It will not be hard for you to understand what a joy it was for me to find at last my exceedingly rare goddaughter, on a sheer mountainside covered with violet lupine, in the sky-high, snow-scented silence. Je fais mon petit Sirine2, as you can see.
Incidentally, Sebastian Knight is being published in French by Albin Michel and Conclusive Evidence (Speak, Memory), which has brought me a lot of fame but little money, is coming out in England, and there will also be a slim volume of verse in Paris.3
Thereupon Mityusha was driven to Grand Teton Park, in western Wyoming, where he lived in a portable tent and performed fearsome ascents with famous climbers on mountains that correspond to the most difficult ones in Europe and Asia—with ropes, pitons, rappels, etc.—while Véra and I lived alone on an isolated ranch in the Yellowstone Park area. Now, too, we are living in a very silent place among sumptuous, half-orange foliage, and not a sound except for the crickets. It is with unbearable sadness that I think of E.K.4 and R.5, to whom I dare not write.6
I embrace you.
V.7
TO: PROF. M. M. KARPOVICH1
CC, 6 pp.
Ithaca, N.Y.
October 12, 1951
Dorogoi Mikhail Mikhailovich,
Many thanks for your charming and comprehensive letter. I shall take up your points in the same order as you have listed them.
I think you are quite right in dealing with Turgenev in the first part of the course.2
I intend to refer to Ostrovski, Saltykov and Leskov in passing; but am not planning to make the reading of their works obligatory.
I shall use my own prose translations in the case of Nekrasov. I am grateful to you for letting me have Tyutchev whom I like to tie up with Fet and Blok, all in my own translations.
Dostoevski: "The Double", "Zapiski iz Podpol'ya" [Notes from the Underground], "Crime and Punishment".
Tolstoi: "Death of Ivan Il'ich" and "Anna Karenin".
Chehov: "Lady with the Dog", "The Ravine", "Dom's Mezaninom" ["House with Mezzanine"] and one other story; "Chaika" [The Seagull].
A detailed analysis of all these works will be interlarded with background lectures and general discussions. Of Gorki I shall only mention the Volga-ferry story when comparing his clumsy technique to that of Chehov.
I do not plan to devote special lectures to Bunin, etc., but shall take care of them in a general lecture. Of recent authors, I shall deal with Blok, Hodasevich, Belyi. I will omit Sologub, Remizov, Balmont, Bryusov although I may refer to them in a general way with grains of salt from my own salt lick. I also plan a couple of lectures on Soviet literature as a whole.
In many cases I shall use my own mimeographed translations. Obligatory textbook: Guerney's Treasury.3 And as a general reference book: Mirsky.
This is how I visualize the main matter of the course, with connecting lectures of the kind you suggest. If you find any serious flaws in my plan, please let me know, and with a grunt of reluctance I shall add some of the dreadful translations of Ostrovsky and Leskov. I have corrected most of Anna Karenin's important chapters and the Dostoevski material.
I seem to have come to terms with Finley. Proust has been dropped, and I start with Don Quixote.
Thanks for the schedule. Yes, I should like a midterm exam in addition to the final one. I have nothing against the early hours. Tatiana Nikolaevna, to whom we both send our most cordial greetings, is wrong here. I am getting old and go to bed around 10 o'clock. I either do not sleep until the following night or get up (after taking a pill on the eve) around 8 a.m. as fresh as an English daisy or a Russian rose. I find it very convenient to have the Humanities 2 lecture immediately after the Slavic 150 b. I have the same arrangement here.
As to the Pushkin course I do not mind having one hour on Monday or Wednesday in the early afternoon and the other hour (two hours per week in all) at 10 on Saturday, since assistants take over in my Humanities course on the third day. However, I have another suggestion. Would it not be possible to have a two-hour session any time on Monday or Wednesday? This is the method I follow here, but of course I have but a small bunch of students. I presume that the Pushkin students can all read Russian, although I also have all my material in translation.
I seem to have covered the course reading assignment that you list on the yellow sheets. If you do want me to take Ostrovsky and Leskov, I would choose The Storm and perhaps The Enchanted Wanderer. Blok's The Twelve I shall translate in class. Chehov's stories would come in Yarmolinsky's translation, with my corrections.
In speaking of a complete edition of Pushkin's works (the piece de résistance will be "Evgenyi Onegin", then the Diminutive Dramas, "The Queen of Spades", some fifty lyrics). I was thinking of a six-volume set in buff bindings, more or less recently brought out by the Soviets ("Academia", 1936). I have also heard of a new edition of "Evgenyi Onegin" with more notes than the usual ones have.
I think this is all anent academic matters. I read with interest your remarks concerning the Ford Foundation. I do hope they take "Dar."4
Your plans for the summer are splendid; and we certainly hope to visit you at Cambridge before you leave. Now about the house. Your offer is very tempting and I wonder when is the deadline for giving you our deci
sion? The only possible drawback would be the question of temperature. Would the expense of 25–30 keep the house comfortably warm? Since there is only two of us, we could do well with a smaller—and less expensive—place. On the other hand I find that I can work only when surrounded with an almost Proustian silence. What chance in your opinion do we have of finding a smaller, and preferably cheaper, place that would also be very, very quiet? However, I repeat, your proposal is most attractive and I would like a little time to decide.
This year Mitusha is taking Biology, Latin Lit., Music and History of Civilization, besides English A. He is not taking any Russian Lit.—my friends thought he had enough Nabokov at home. I hope that next year he will be able to take the Russian Survey course with you. I am writing him to drop in at your office, you will be amazed at his altitude.
Véra and I send our best love to both of you.
P.S. I am applying to the Guggenheim Foundation for a grant which would allow me to prepare a scholarly prose translation of Evgeni Onegin for publication. I have been bold enough to mention you as one of my references.
One more consideration regarding the house. Would you want to rent it for the period February to June? We would probably want to leave on June 15 or 30th, at the latest.
I do not quite understand the "reading period" business, for which I have suggested a few titles on a separate sheet. How are the students tested on this reading? Do I understand rightly that the final exam should cover the whole term course including the reading period material?
COURSE READING ASSIGNMENT
Tyutchev, poems
Nekrasov, poems
Fet, poems
Dostoevski, The Double, or Zapiski iz Podpol'ya; Crime and Punishment.
Tolstoi, Death of Ivan Il'ich, Anna Karenin
Chehov, Lady with the Dog, The Ravine, Dom's Mezaninom, One other story; Chaika.
Blok, Hodasevich, Mayakovski, poems.
READING PERIOD ASSIGNMENT.
One of the following:
Chehov, The Duel
" The Three Sisters
Tolstoi, Haji Murad
Olesha, Zavist'
Andreev, (perhaps) The Seven Who Were Hanged
Bunin, The Gentleman from San Francisco
Zoshchenko, ?
Blok, Balaganchik Belyi, Fragments.
TO: PASCAL COVICI
CC, 2 pp.
623 Highland Road
Ithaca, N.Y.
November 12, 1951
Dear Mr. Covici,
Many thanks for your charming letter. I shall be in New York on December 8, arriving late on Friday, the 7th, and leaving Sunday afternoon. I am delivering a lecture Saturday evening, but otherwise will be free and delighted to meet you.
I shall teach in the spring term at Harvard. One of my courses (Humanities II which is attended by more than 500 students) will include Don Quixote, and I shall certainly recommend your magnificent Putnam1 to those who can afford it.
I hope to discuss with you in New York my literary plans, but here is a little preview: I have two books for publication, one that could be brought out rightaway (a collection of short stories) and the other (a book of criticism entitled The Poetry of Prose) which could be ready for print within a few weeks.
The collection would comprise the following eleven stories: The Assistant Producer; The Aurelian; Double Talk; Cloud, Castle, Lake; Spring in Fialta; In Aleppo Once; A Forgotten Poet; Time and Ebb; Signs and Symbols; The Vane Sisters; Lance. Eight of these were included in the Nine Stories booklet published by New Directions in a small edition long since out of print.
The book of criticism, The Poetry of Prose, will consist of 10 chapters: I. Cervantes: Don Quixote; II. Jane Austen: Mansfield Park; III. Pushkin: The Queen of Spades; IV. Dickens: Bleak House; V. Gogol and Proust; VI. Flaubert: Madame Bovary; VII. Tolstoi: Anna Karenin, The Death of Ivan Il'ich, Haji Murad; VIII. Chehov: The Ravine, The Lady with the Spitz and other stories; IX. Kafka: Metamorphosis; X. The Art of Translation.2
Moreover, I am engaged in the composition of a novel, which deals with the problems of a very moral middle-aged gentleman who falls very immorally in love with his stepdaughter, a girl of thirteen.3 However, I cannot predict its date of completion since I have to combine this work with short-term productions in order to vegetate.
Very sincerely yours,
Vladimir Nabokov
TO: ARCHIBALD MACLEISH1
CC, 1 pp.
623 Highland Road
Ithaca, New York
December 2, 1951
Dear Mr. MacLeish,
Thanks for your charming letter. I shall be delighted to take part in your readings program.
I knew from Harry Levin that you would be away during the spring term and this is a very keen disappointment. I take this opportunity to tell you what you surely must know (for we all know mutually who likes our stuff and who does not) that I am a great admirer of your poetry. There is that movement of light in one of your most famous poems that invariably sends a shiver of delight up and down my spine whenever I think of it.
Sincerely yours,
Vladimir Nabokov
TO: HENRY ALLEN MOE1
CC, 4 pp.
temporary address: 9 Maynard Place
Cambridge 38, Mass.
permanent address: Cornell University
Dept, of Russian Lit.
Ithaca, New York
April 5, 1952
Dear Mr. Moe,
I thank you for your letter of April 1st which has just been forwarded here from Ithaca. I find it a little easier to explain to you my financial situation in a letter rather than by filling the form enclosed with your letter.
My salary at Cornell, after taxes and withholdings, amounts to $4.450.00 (before taxes etc. it is $5.500.00). If I were granted a fellowship, I would ask the College for a leave of absence (without pay) for one half of the academic year, and my salary would be reduced accordingly by about a half, $2.250
Then there are also such incidental expenses as doctors' bills, state income tax, payments on the car etc.
Ordinarily I just manage to balance my budget by literary earnings.
The whole point of my application for a fellowship is that, in order to complete the English "Evgenii Onegin" as I have it in mind, with exhaustive commentaries etc., within a year, I should have to set aside all other literary work.
By dint of stringent economy, I hope to keep down my expenses for the year to around 5.500–6.000.
I wonder if a grant of $3.500 would be too much to apply for under the circumstances described above? If granted, I would like to receive it in twelve monthly payments, from August 1952 to August 1953.
I would like to plan the order of my work in the following way: part of the time to research at Cornell University Library, the Harvard Libraries, the Library of Congress and possibly other libraries and at least half-a-dozen months in actual composition, settling down for this purpose at some quiet, secluded, hay-fever-less spot.
Sincerely yours,
Vladimir Nabokov
P.S. I have not applied for a Fulbright or any other award.
PLAN FOR STUDY.
I am contemplating a complete, richly annotated prose translation of Pushkin's novel in verse "Eugene Onegin" (1823–1831). It is the first and fundamental Russian novel: Its general atmosphere, the logical and harmonious development of its plot from the esssential features of the characters, the retrospective and introspective rambles of the writer's thought, are rightly considered by critics to have "given the cue and pattern to the great Russian novelists of the XIX century" (Mirsky, History of Russian Literature).
The following points require elucidation:
There does not exist any edition in any language (not excepting the original one) with the exhaustive commentaries that the text should have for adequate understanding and enjoyment.
The several translations into English that have appeared since the latter half of the last century have been attempts to
render "Eugene Onegin" in verse, with the result that the elaborate rhyme scheme of the original, the fluency of the Russian iambic tetrameter and the conciseness of the sonnet-like stanzas of which the cantos consist, forced the translators to plunge into a jungle of jingles (I have been there too in my time) that transformed one of the most brilliant works ever composed into a vague, lame, third-rate concoction with rhymes of the "pleasure-leisure", "heart-part" sort. Since there is no way of transforming the complex Russian structure of the piece into adequate English verse, I propose to offer not only a literal prose translation but to accompany it by profuse notes explaining as thoroughly as possible the musical impact of the Russian line and various points of Pushkin's technique.
Vladimir Nabokov: Selected Letters 1940-1977 Page 12
