"the cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of dark"
autobiografia di nabokov alla maniera di nabokov: con passi elegiaci, nostalgie di un passato dorato, autocelebrazioni, metafore. non manca nulla- farfalle, cronofobie, sinestesie, fanciulle in fiore, poesia. ricordi con un filo logico che si perde in una scrittura magica e in un tempo mitico. prezioso e magico.
"all one could do was to glimpse, amid the haze and the chimeras, something real ahead, just as persons endowed with an unusual persistence of diurnal celebration are able to perceive in their deepest sleep, somewhere beyond the throes of an entangled and inept nightmare, the ordered reality of the waking hour"
"i confess i do not believe in time. i like to fold my magic carpet, after use, in such a way as to superimpose one part of the pattern upon another. let visitors trip. and the highest enjoyment of timelessness- in a landscape selected at random- is when i stand among rare butterflies and their fold plants. this is ecstasy, and behind the ecstasy is something else, which is hard to explain. it is like a momentary vacuum into which rushes all that i love. a sense of oneness with sun and stone. a thrill of gratitude to whom it may concern- to the contrapuntal genius of human fate or to tender ghosts humoring a lucky mortal"...Continua
beautiful detail and small pieces in his memory, I love it!