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Комментарии к «Евгению Онегину» Александра Пушкина - Владимир Набоков
- Дата:13.07.2024
- Категория: Документальные книги / Критика
- Название: Комментарии к «Евгению Онегину» Александра Пушкина
- Автор: Владимир Набоков
- Просмотров:4
- Комментариев:0
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Описание онлайн-книги Комментарии к «Евгению Онегину» Александра Пушкина - Владимир Набоков:
Комментарии В. В. Набокова освещают многообразие исторических, литературных и бытовых сторон романа. Книга является оригинальным произведением писателя в жанре научно-исторического комментария. Набоков обращается к «потаенным слоям» романа, прослеживает литературные влияния, связи «Евгения Онегина» с другими произведениями поэта, увлекательно повествует о тайнописи Пушкина.Предназначена для широкого круга читателей и в первую очередь — для преподавателей и студентов гуманитарных вузов, а также для учителей и учащихся средней школы.
Критика
Аудиокнига "Комментарии к «Евгению Онегину» Александра Пушкина" от Владимира Набокова
📚 Великий русский поэт Александр Пушкин и его произведение "Евгений Онегин" стали неотъемлемой частью русской литературы. Владимир Набоков, известный писатель и литературовед, предлагает свой взгляд на этот шедевр в своих "Комментариях к «Евгению Онегину»".
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🖋️ Владимир Набоков - выдающийся русско-американский писатель, литературовед и преподаватель. Известен своими романами, такими как "Лолита" и "Защита Лужина". Набоков обладал уникальным стилем письма и глубоким знанием литературы.
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Критика
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VI
Time was, he bantered drolly, knew how to gull a fool and capitally fool a clever man, 4 for all to see or on the sly; though some tricks of his, too, did not remain unchastised; though sometimes he himself, too, got 8 trapped like a simpleton. He knew how to conduct a gay dispute, make a reply keen or obtuse, now craftily to hold his tongue,12 now craftily to raise a rumpus, how to get two young friends to quarrel and place them on the marked-out ground,VII
or have them make it up so as to lunch all three, and later secretly defame them 4 with a gay quip, with prate.... Sed alia tempora! Daredevilry (like love's dream, yet another caper) passes with lively youth. 8 As I've said, my Zarétski, beneath the racemosas and the pea trees having at last found shelter from tempests, lives like a true sage,12 plants cabbages like Horace, breeds ducks and geese, and teaches [his] children the A B C.VIII
He was not stupid; and my Eugene, while rating low the heart in him, liked both the spirit of his judgments 4 and his sane talk of this and that. He would frequent him with pleasure, and therefore was not at all surprised at morn 8 when he saw him; the latter, after the first greeting, interrupting the started conversation, with eyes atwinkle, to Onegin12 handed a billet from the poet. Onegin went up to the window and read it to himself.IX
It was a pleasant, gentlemanly, brief challenge or cartel: politely, with cold clearness, to a duel 4 Lenski called out his friend. Onegin, on a first impulsion to the envoy of such an errand turning, without superfluous words 8 said he was “always ready.” Zaretski got up without explanations — did not want to stay longer, having at home a lot of things to do —12 and forthwith left; but Eugene, alone remaining with his soul, felt ill-contented with himself.X
And serve him right: on strict examination, he, having called his own self to a secret court, accused himself of much: 4 first, it had been already wrong of him to make fun of a timid, tender love so casually yesternight; and secondly: why, let a poet 8 indulge in nonsense! At eighteen 'tis pardonable. Eugene, loving the youth with all his heart, ought to have shown himself to be12 no bandyball of prejudices, no fiery boy, no scrapper, but a man of honor and of sense.XI
He might have manifested feelings instead of bristling like a beast; he ought to have disarmed 4 the youthful heart. “But now too late; the time has flown away.... Moreover,” he reflects, “in this affair an old duelist has intervened; 8 he's wicked, he's a gossip, he talks glibly.... Of course, contempt should be the price of his droll sallies; but the whisper, the snickering of fools...”12 And here it is — public opinion!38 Honor's mainspring, our idol! And here is what the world turns on!XII
The poet, with impatient enmity boiling, awaits at home the answer. And here the answer solemnly 4 by the grandiloquent neighbor is brought. Now, what a boon 'tis for the jealous one! He had kept fearing that the scamp might joke his way out somehow, 8 a trick devising and his breast averting from the pistol. The doubts are now resolved: tomorrow to the mill they must12 drive before daybreak, at one another raise the cock, and at the thigh or at the temple aim.XIII
Having decided to detest the coquette, boiling Lenski did not wish to see before the duel Olga. 4 The sun, his watch he kept consulting; at last he gave it up — and found himself at the fair neighbors'. He thought he would embarrass Ólinka, 8 confound her by his coming; but nothing of the sort: just as before to welcome the poor songster Olinka skipped down from the porch,12 akin to giddy hope, spry, carefree, gay — in fact, exactly the same as she had been.XIV
“Why did you vanish yesternight so early?” was Olinka's first question. In Lenski all the senses clouded, 4 and silently he hung his head. Jealousy and vexation disappeared before this clarity of glance, before this soft simplicity, 8 before this sprightly soul!... He gazes with sweet tenderness; he sees: he is still loved! Already, by remorse beset,12 he is prepared to beg her pardon, he quivers, can't find words: he's happy, he is almost well....XVII
And pensive, spiritless again before his darling Olga, Vladimir cannot make himself remind her 4 of yesterday; “I,” he reflects, “shall be her savior. I shall not suffer a depraver with fire of sighs and compliments 8 to tempt a youthful heart, nor let a despicable, venomous worm gnaw a lily's little stalk, nor have a blossom two morns old12 wither while yet half blown.” All this, friends, meant: I have a pistol duel with a pal.XVIII
If he had known what a wound burned the heart of my Tatiana! If Tatiana had been aware, if she 4 could have known that tomorrow Lenski and Eugene were to compete for the tomb's shelter, ah, then, perhaps, her love 8 might have united the two friends again! But none, even by chance, had yet discovered that passion. Onegin about everything was silent;12 Tatiana pined away in secret; alone the nurse might have known — but she was slow-witted.XIX
All evening Lenski was abstracted, now taciturn, now gay again; but he who has been fostered by the Muse 4 is always thus; with knitted brow he'd sit down at the clavichord and play but chords on it; or else, his gaze directing toward Olga, 8 he'd whisper, “I am happy, am I not?” But it is late; time to depart. In him the heart contracted, full of anguish; as he took leave of the young maiden,12 it seemed to break asunder. She looks him in the face. “What is the matter with you?” “Nothing.” And he makes for the porch.XX
On coming home his pistols he inspected, then back into their case he put them, and, undressed, 4 by candle opened Schiller; but there's one thought infolding him; the sad heart in him does not slumber: Olga, in beauty 8 ineffable, he sees before him. Vladimir shuts the book, takes up his pen; his verses — full of love's nonsense — sound12 and flow. Aloud he reads them in a lyric fever, like drunken D[elvig] at a feast.XXI
The verses chanced to be preserved; I have them; here they are: Whither, ah! whither are ye fled, 4 my springtime's golden days? “What has the coming day in store for me? In vain my gaze attempts to grasp it; in deep gloom it lies hidden. 8 It matters not; fate's law is just. Whether I fall, pierced by the dart, or whether it flies by — all is right: of waking and of sleep12 comes the determined hour; blest is the day of cares, blest, too, is the advent of darkness!XXII
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