#TheFeud25 #VladimirNabokov #EdmundWilson by #AlexBeam
#readinganactofsharedsolitude #paperpillsπ΅πΈβ€οΈ #beedoubleokayess #reemreel #athingofbeauty www.instagram.com/reel/DS2ayc2...
The Feud: Vladimir Nabokov, Edmund Wilson, and the End of a Beautiful Friendship
https://
www.splicetoday.com/writing/vlad...
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Paul Theroux observed that "friendship is plainer but deeper than love. A friend knows your faults and forgives them, but more than that, a friend is a witness [emphasis added.]"
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Around that time Nabokov sent a check to the Israeli ambassador in Switzerland during what became known as the Yom Kippur War; "I would like to make a small contribution to Israel's defense against the Arabolshevist aggression."
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Gentlemen, even if one allows that he is an important writer, are we next to invite an elephant to be Professor of Zoology?Soon afterward Hurricane Lolita blew Nabokov to the Alps,where he became more famous & richer, than an entire Fellows Table of Harvard professors.
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After reading Wilson's piece at home in Montreux, Nabokov cabled Barbara Epstein in New York: "Please reserve space in next issue for my thunder."
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Poor Vladimir. An exile. An orphan. A stranger to two worlds and in two languages. A Conrad manquΓ©. Wilson was trafficking in precisely the kind of "human interest" twaddle that Nabokow reviled. #TheFeud25 #VladimirNabokov #EdmundWilson
an egregious example of his style at its most perversepedantic impossible," according to Wilson. One's heart goes out to the tired spines of the reference works in the two men's respective homes, clearly in need of bibliorthopedic intervention.
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"The Strange Case of Pushkin and Nabokov,' finally appeared in July 1965
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www.nybooks.com/articles/196...
What takes Pushkin 140 iambs to express takes Nabokov fifteen pages of dense analysis. The "Pedal Digression," Nabokov writes, "is one of the wonders of the work.""
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Mr. Nabokov has the point of view of an old-fashioned Russian of the better classes, one, that is say, who quite normally spoke French to his equals and Russian to his servants....
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The New Yorker, titled "On translating Eugene Onegin." The opening lines are famous:
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Nabokov working at his desk at Cornell, The folders of his Onegin draft loom in the foreground. (Photograph by Maclean Dameron, Cornell University Photo Sciences Dept, Division of Rare and Manuscript Collections, Cornell University Library)
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Pushkin's own sketch of himself and Onegin, lounging on the Neva embankment. (Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)
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Onegin is some of the most beautiful Russian poetry ever written. Its organization is chaotic. It is all very Russian.
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* It was Nabokov's contention that only Russian female performers like the ballerina Anna Pavlova merited feminization, with the added a, of their family names. This came off as a silly quirk, certainly to his wife Vera, who signed her letters "VΓ©ra
Nabokova."
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"He and I disagree on everything in literature except Pushkin," Wilson told an interviewer not long before this, their final meeting. Pushkin would be the last to go.
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In his income tax jeremiad, Wilson concluded, "I have finally come to feel that this country, whether or not I continue to live in it, is no longer any place for me."
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Wilson's father had refused to own stocks, considering them to be empty speculation Wilson was never vaccinated; no one knows why. Certain things he did not do: He did not accept an honorary degree from Harvard, and he did not accept a life-extending pacemaker
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Wilson thought he "could always attend to this obligation later," and the one time he decided pay a tax bill--his 1955 book on the Dead Sea Scrolls sold well-_his check bounced.
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For many years he didn't pay taxes because he preferred to spend his money on foreign travel, sumptuous meals, and private schools for his children. During the fat year of Hecate's best-sellerdom, he had plenty of cash, but continued to stiff the IRS.
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In October 1958, Pasternak won the Nobel Prize for Literature. and Doctor Zhivago leapfrogged over Lolita to the number-one spot on best-seller lists all over the world. #TheFeud25 #VladimirNabokov #EdmundWilson
When first manuscripts of Dr Zhivago surfaced in the West,a friend suggested the ideal translator to Pasternak: a poet, who is completely bilingual: Nabokov. That won't work, asternak replied. He's too jealous of my wretched position in this country to do it properly. #TheFeud25
Altho Lolita was battling heavy weather in the Old World the US had moved on from days when conservative Catholic publicists could pillory indecent books. Muchbanned books Joyce's Ulysses & DHLawrence's Lady Chatterley's Loverfinding their way, legally into bookstores #TheFeud25
Nabokov left a brief rhyme in Russian: "There are nights when as soon as I lie down/My bed sails off to Russia."
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Wilson had windowpanes
engraved with etched messages from his many famous friends." Using a diamond-pointed pencil, Wilson's guests W.H. Auden, Stephen Spender, Dorothy Parker, and the French poet-diplomat Saint-John Perse (Alexis Leger), among others, etched messages #TheFeud25
"Edmund Wilson regrets ..." Perhaps the most infamous three-by-five- inch card in twentieth-century American literature. (Private collection
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Nabokov might have admired Conrad more had he known that the Anglicized Pole shared his disdain for Fyodor Dostoyevsky. "[Conrad] hated him because he was Russian, because he was mad, and because he was confused,"
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Another trespass: Nabokov would have known that Conrad had praised the work of the famous Russian-to-Englis translator Constance Garnett, one of Nabokov's bΓͺtes noires. ("I can do nothing with Constance Garnett's dry shit,'' he lamented to his publisher.
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When he reprinted the review in a 1950 collection Wilson added one final line that he must have known would irk Nabokov. "In spite of some errors, Mr. Nabokov's mastery of English almost rivals Joseph Conrad's."
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