Letters to Véra

by Vladimir Nabokov

  Zina was thrilled by the amethysts. She and Svetik and Svyat. Adr. were absolutely heavenly-sweet with me. Turns out that Victor settled his accounts with her today and paid for his brother’s card d’identité.

  ‘Mesures’ is rated the best French journal.

  Thank you, my darling, for the news about Rudnev. The train’s really flying. The fields are green, like in spring; I am sitting without a jacket. It’s hard to write, my thoughts jump around with the jolting. More about Kirill: he’s living now in an excellent, large, clean room, with a friendly and patient landlady who runs a pub downstairs. Only after she saw me did she really believe it was Kirill’s brother pictured in the newspaper and now Kirill thinks his stocks have risen. Turovets (whose light bulbs he peddles) gave him a hat and a suit, on the whole he’s dressed decently, but the shoes give him away. Thank god, this seems like a station. Yes. We’re at the border. I keep showing everyone little snapshots. I am kissing him on the temple, my little one. Write me soon, my love. There was a lot I didn’t tell you about the evening, but it would have come out cloying. Zina and Svetik were beaming. I am happy, because this augurs success in Paris too. Well, the train’s moving again. Keep well, my love. I kiss you a lot and very tenderly.

  V.

  Greetings to Anyuta and tell her how exactly I ‘conducted’ all the conversations.

  ____________________

  [ALS, 2 PP.]

  [postmarked 25 January 1937]

  TO: 22, Nestor str., Berlin – Halensee, Allemagne

  c/o Fondaminsky,

  130, av. de Versailles

  [Paris]

  Hello, my darling,

  Last night there was a Russian reading (two excerpts from ‘The Gift’, the triangle and Bush). It was quite a treat. The tickets were all sold out, the public listened ideally, I read with a ten-minute break from ten till twenty to twelve (about 45 pp.). To start off, Khodasevich spoke a little, wittily and one-sidedly – mostly about ‘devices’, about how in what I write ‘the devices live and work’. Lyusya laughed a lot when I read about Bush. Sofa informed me that the day before she had ‘dictated to the secretary’ all night. I saw Mme Morevsky. Saw scores more. Then, according to tradition, as a whole society, we relocated to a café, about twenty of us with the invariable Bunin, Aldanov, Berberova, Khodas. and so on. On est très, très gentil avec moi.

  Tomorrow I’ll be at Maklakov’s. All my free time (and yesterday till half past three in the morning, since I have so little time free), I corrected the first chapter of ‘The Gift’ (since I have to rush to some deadline, when they raise the rate) and today, finally, submitted it all to Rudnev (who’s charming with me). I’ve looked over the English galleys, except the part I’m expecting from you today – and then I’ll send everything to Long.

  I have already established contact with ‘Tair’, have talked about it all with Lol. Lvov, and, it seems, it might come out. I have been to Ergaz’s, she’s all red with a cold. Took her candy, it was all very nice. I have been to Raisa’s (she’s trying very, very hard), to the old man’s, to Khodasevich’s. On Wednesday I am having a serious conversation with Aldanov – the only person who has even the slightest influence on P. N. I have already been offered (Ilya) an apartment of three rooms with all mod. cons., in Boulogne (it’s lovely there now, – I walked through on my way to Khodas.) for 300 fr. a month, and Sherman’s offering another one for 400 fr., in a new house, etc. I met with Lyusya as soon as I arrived, brought him the boots and the dream. Everyone I see praises my ‘Fialta’. I spoke with Teffi about London: her reading at Sablin’s was remarkable, with the beau-monde and front-row seats a guinea, etc. Shouldn’t I write to him from here? But what? Send me an outline!

  On Friday I am having dinner at the Kokoshkins’ with Fondam. and Zenzin. Irina has lost her good looks. With another Irina (Kyandzh.) I spoke on the phone, she gave birth to a girl about three weeks ago, I’ll go there tomorrow. I’ve already spoken with Ilyusha’s actors about the play. I will write it as soon as I have time. I’ve made arrangements with Paulhan for tomorrow.

  My dear love, I miss you and him very much. His little snapshots produce raptures.

  I’m very comfortable here, not an iota has changed since last time, I feel myself ‘at home’.

  Today I slept no more than three hours. In the afternoon I am at the old man’s. It’s now half past one, I haven’t been out yet and haven’t had lunch, it’s raining, behind the door Jeanne is speaking to the cat: ‘mon pauvre petit martyr!’

  Greetings to Anyuta.

  My dear love!

  V.

  ____________________

  [ALS, 2 PP.]

  [postmarked 27 [January] 1937]

  TO: 22, Nestor str., Berlin – Halensee, Allemagne

  [Paris]

  My dear darling, my little sunshine,

  I was at Maklakov’s. He maintains there’ll be no difficulties. But first of all, however, I have to extend my visa to 3 months with the right to return from London. Tomorrow I’ll go there again about this. And in the morning, tomorrow, I’ll be at Pavel’s. Do you remember a certain Calmbrood? It turns out he has earned two thousand plus. I was at Paulhan’s yesterday and gave him both things (he promised to be at the reading, but something that sparkled in his brown eye made me give him ‘Le Vrai’ right there, rather than put it away in the long drawer. He was unusually nice – and promises, in general, to help me). Two days ago, from Mme Damansky, I got several addresses of cheap pensions on the Riviera (20 fr. a day) and besides, she promised to write to her uncle in Beaulieu-sur-mer. Ilyusha, to whom I spoke about it all in detail, will take care of this, too. He thoroughly explained to me all the nuances (absolutely, by the way, in keeping with your and Anyuta’s instructions) that I should stick to in my conversation with Milyukov. My plan is for you and the little boysie to travel in the middle (or the beginning?) of March through Paris straight to the south. It’s obvious to me that Victor (he sends lots of kisses, my life, – he feels such a longing for you, for your soft dear whiteness and everything. I have never loved you as I love you now) will find a way to exist here. Aunt Nina visited me yesterday and brought – awfully touching – a whole dowry for the boy: a wonderful little dark-blue and pink bathrobe, two pink pyjamas, knitted jerseys, red leggings, white leggings, a little hat, little shirts, and lots more. Maybe you should drop her a line? 16, av. de la Grande Armée. Enclose a photograph.

  On Monday night, there was a meeting of Christians and poets at Ilyusha’s. Georg. Ivan. was there, too, a lisping little gentleman, his face looking like both a hoopoe and Boris Brodsky. I avoided a handshake. They discussed the topic of the sexual act in the light of Christianity, and Yanovsky, Mamchenko, Ivanov talked a lot of terrible and shameful nonsense, with Fedotov starting it (the speaker did not show up and Fedotov suggested the topic of ‘frankness in literature’).

  I’ve done half of ‘Despair’ and have sent it (40 galleys) to Long. Yesterday I was supposed to have dinner with Bunin (along with Aldanov and Tsetlin), but there was a mix-up (I was at Paulhan’s, and then had dinner alone in a little bar I know on rue Bonaparte – 6 fr. for everything), so from 7 to 11 they were calling Ilyusha. I had lunch yesterday at the Kyandzhuntsevs’. I saw Irina’s little girl – dark-haired, in a huge pink baby carriage. Saba has a new car. He spent ages telling me his misfortunes in love. Irina isn’t going back to Leipzig, and her husband’s in England. I will call on Gaston Gallimard tomorrow, on Paulhan’s advice, and the day after tomorrow I’ll have lunch with Sofa. Now I am sitting in a bar on my way to Mme Morevsky, where I will see Lyusya and give it to him. The watch is ticking in my coat. Marvellous weather, the Seine’s like milk.

  My Greek tortures me so much (I don’t sleep at night because it’s furiously itchy – and this greatly affects my mood) that I decided to see a doctor, since it gets even worse from the précipité blanc. This idiotic tar has affected me awfully. Mme Sablin (née Fomin, Yurik’s former passion and Gogel’s sister) is coming here any day,
and I’ll have a talk with her. Write me lots about Miten’ka. This is for him.

  I am attaching a review from a Belgian newspaper. I have written to Mother.

  My darling, I kiss you.

  Greetings to Anyutochka. They haven’t yet come for the things.

  V.

  ____________________

  [ALS, 1 p.]

  [postmarked 28 January 1937]

  TO: b/ Feigin, 22, Nestor str., Berlin – Halensee

  c/o Fondaminsky,

  130, av. de Versailles

  [Paris]

  My dear love,

  Paulhan has just written to me that Outrage is ‘délicieux, merveilleux, convaincant’ and that he’s taking it for N.R.F. He wants to talk some more with me about ‘Pouchkine’, so I am going to him again.

  P. N. was extremely gracious with me. I reported everything to him – like a lesson – and received an A plus. Victor asked him for two thousand a month for three or four little articles. This will be decided in a day or two.

  I was at Maklakov’s again – rather, at N. M. Rodzyanko’s, who’s taking particular care of this and has filled out a long request. You don’t have quite the right information about furniture: one simply needs to have a permis de séjour and then, with a note from the Fr. Consul in Berlin, it can be brought in without a tax.

  My joy, write to me. I am kissing you and him, my darlings. I enclose Ald.’s very nice article.

  V.

  I have been to M.’s with Lyusya, and then to the doctor’s. He suggests I get some kind of injections, twenty at twenty francs a time. I declined.

  ____________________

  [ALS, 2 PP.]

  [postmarked 1 February 1937]

  TO: 22, Nestor str., Berlin – Halensee, Allemagne

  Exp: Fondaminsky,

  130, av. de Versailles

  [Paris]

  My darling, my love,

  All the letters you ask about were written long ago – to Sablin and Zina, and to Long, and to Gleb, and to Molly, and to Gallimard (from whom there is still no reply; if there’s still none, I’ll phone). I live in something like concentric whirlwinds, moving from one to another. Paulhan is taking the conférence too, but he finds that the translations of the poems have no ‘envolée’ and, after consulting with him, I have sent them to Melo du Dy, for feathering. On Thursday night I went with the Thompsons (and the chess – and very sweet) Bernstein to Rashel’s. On Friday I had lunch with Sofa and Lyusya, and in the evening, with Ilyusha and Vlad. Mikh. (who won’t part with my tie, which looks very good on him), had dinner at the Kokoshkin-Guadaninis’, and returned along the gloomy and empty boulevards at 2 a.m. – and since then Ilyusha has been talking affectionately about Russian girls who make their living by giving haircuts to dogs.

  On Saturday there was a very fancy and jolly reading at Ridel’s (but Weidle was not a success since, as it turns out, he stammers – he clings to a word and cannot jump off and works on the spot for five seconds or so, and then it is smooth again, but overall he’s very nice). In the evening I was at the Russian Theatre and then till morning we sat in a café with the actresses (and Ilyusha). Yesterday I was at the Bunins’ (Ald. and Roshchin were there too), and today met with Polyakov in a café (the P.N. question has not been resolved yet), then I was at Gen. Golovin’s and received from him a translation into English. Victor will be paid two hundred francs for ten pages. I had a visit from the Kazakh-Kirghiz Chokhaev, specially to talk about the circumstances of Godunov-Cherdyntsev’s death, and he told me all I needed. I have been to Kanegisser’s sister’s (by the way: mentioning this name in my ‘Gift’ sounded – as Aldanov and Mme Tatarinov assured me – like a terrible gaffe), and gave her a film option for K.Q.K. Have been to the Louvre (for the work of Godun. Cherd., K. K., about butterflies in old still lifes), and tomorrow I am meeting with Zhdanov. I have been to Paulhan’s again: if Outrage comes out in N.R.F., he won’t give more than 40 fr. per page, and it will come out only in four months, so that he will try to place it in Mesures, and if not, then in N.R.F. I found a ‘useful’ man in Cambridge and several addresses in the South. My darling, get ready to leave! I won’t tell you about the unbearable sufferings imposed on me by the Greek; the itchiness doesn’t let me sleep, and all the linen is covered in blood – terrible. There is a good new salve, but I don’t dare to use it, because it says on it ‘Sali[t] énormément le linge’. Yes, perhaps, I will go see Dynkin. Victor received around eight hundred from Ridel. I love you. Kisses to my little one. There were many other meetings, but I’ve got some things all mixed up. Have had lunch again at the Kyandzhuntsevs’: Irina is divorcing her husband and says that he would cause scenes when they invited someone home. The little girl very sweetly fait rotototo after the bottle (a burp). My entire week is ‘scheduled’. I enclose two reviews. Everything would be fine, if it weren’t for the damned skin. I love you. The old man was stunned by the first chapter. My darling, I’m waiting for you so much. And him.

  V.

  ____________________

  [ALS, 2 PP.]

  [postmarked 4 February 1937]

  TO: 22, Nestor str., Berlin – Halensee, Allemagne

  Exp: Fondaminsky,

  130, av. de Versailles

  [Paris]

  My love, thanks to my heroic persistence I have made, in between all my other local visits, dealings and conversations, a most complicated technical translation into English – finished it yesterday around two. I’ve extended my visa for two months, that is, I’ll receive it in London after this one expires. At the Ministry I met Ger. Abr., whom they didn’t give a return visa. They came for the things. I met with poor Zhdanov, who’d come on the occasion of his father’s death: the film possibility has arisen again, so I will meet with Kortn. first thing in London. My darling, how are you, what are you, I feel agonizingly empty without you (and without the little warm portable boy), I love you, my darling. I had lunch at the Berberovs’ with Adamovich: we are very sweet to each other. She has a new ‘Dawson girl’ haircut, but the same pink little isthmus of flesh between her front teeth. Today I see G. Marcel, who wants me to repeat the conférence (which he overpraises) to a Sorbonne audience: I think I’ll have to agree, although they probably won’t pay any money. I got a long letter from Sablin with a ‘very polite’ invitation to read at his place and with the practical advice to find a ‘well-to-do’ heir to the tsars who’d ‘propagandize’ the evening, since, as he says, they ‘are more interested in Russ. literature than genuine Russians are’. From Struve – the absolute idiot – I received an offhand postcard that he considers a double reading ‘inadvisable’. I wrote to Sablin, Grinberg, Mme Gavronsky, Long (I sent off the very elegant title-page), Mme Chernavin. Yesterday had lunch at Antonini’s, he’s very nice (if you don’t count his nauseating snobbery). I need the contract with Long, to know how much he’s paying. Send it without fail – or copy it out. Victor, as he tells me, spends piles of money, but he will write something for Lyusya. I think I’ll end up choosing Rochebrune, cap. St Martin. As soon as I return from London, the visa will be sent to you. Not a line from Mother, I don’t understand. The psoriasis is only getting worse. I will do something about it on my return from London. From time to time I have a dream: to cover myself with ointment from head to toe and lie in hospital for a month.

  If it weren’t for that everything would in general have been marvellous. On me fête beaucoup, I am surrounded by hundreds of very nice people. De-Monza said at Navashin’s funeral: ‘il y a cent ans, on a tué Pouchkine … Maintenant on a tué Navachine …’ Now I am going to have lunch with Roche, and then Ridel and I will go to Mme Chardonne’s. In the evening I must see Khodasevich ‘on business’ in a café. My underwear is in such a state that it was too awkward to give it to Jeanne and I had to take it to a laundry, where washing a shirt costs almost three francs. Greetings to Anyutochka. My darling, I am beginning to count the days to March 15th. Write.

  V.

  They are trying to set me up here with
a furnished apart., 3 r., all mod. cons, for 650 per m., through Zina.

  ____________________

  [ALS, 2 PP.]

  [postmarked 5 February 1937]

  TO: 22, Nestor str., Berlin – Halensee, Allemagne

  Exp: Fondaminsky,

  130, av. de Versailles

  [Paris]

  My darling, my love, here are the answers to all your motleyish questions: I wrote about Kirill to Zina and Masui. I kicked Victor out. Bonnier and Jannelli have been written to. Zina will send the Mercure – if she has not sent it already. The business with Tair has not been clarified yet. Raisa took the belt rather indifferently. About Maurois: before the beginning Ridel had told me that ‘mon grand ami Maurois n’a malheureusement pas pu venir’, and then, right there, after asking Weidle’s advice, I crossed out the whole paragraph about ‘Byron’. I do not know yet which of the two things Paulhan will place in N.R.F. and which in Mesures. It is very hard to catch Gallimard, but today I phoned N.R.F., reminding them that I am waiting for news from him (there is no other way), and his secretary there answered me that I will receive un mot demain.