Okay so i started with the ending, and i figure its the first thing i feel is worthy of reading i'll post it. Please give me information on your feelings of it. The formatting is weird but it should be readable. Dialogue is italicized
EXT. NEW WYE SUBURB - NIGHT
KINBOTE
(v.o.)
Somewhere horseshoes are being tossed. Click. Clunk. Leaning against its lamppost like a drunk. A dark vanessa with a crimson band wheels in the low sun settles on the sand and shows its ink-blue wingtips flecked with white. And through the flowing shade and ebbing light a man unheedful of the butterfly- some neighbors gardener, i guess-goes by trundling an empty barrow. I am the shadow of the waxwing slain.
Charles Kinbote, middle-aged, bearded, large in every sense of the word, crouches comically, and in a way shamefully, behind some bushes and trees looking at a large new-england style home.
We see a veranda or porch, to the left of the door, under a light sits John Shade, 60’s, ugly, bent, with white hair, and aged features, content. A small TABLE is on his left, his left elbow rest on it, his temple resting on his fist. On the table sits a pregnant ENVELOPE.
KINBOTE sees that SHADE is not working, but resting, and absconds from his hiding place, walks through the trees and up to Shade on the porch.
Closer now we see that SHADE is EMOTIONALLY DRAINED, his eyes are MISTY. SHADE notices KINBOTE and raises a hand in greeting but does not change his glance.
KINBOTE, less boisterously than usual, breaks the silence.
KINBOTE (CONT’D)
Well, has the muse been kind to you?
SHADE
Very kind! Exceptionally kind and gentle. In face, I have here.
Shade pats the ENVELOPE
SHADE (CONT’D)
Practically the entire product. A few trifles to settle and I’ve swung it, by God.
The ENVELOPE is full to bursting with note cards covered with small, very fine, very romantic print.
KINBOTE
(pensively)
Where is the missus?
SHADE
Help me, Charlie, to get out of here, foot gone to sleep. Sybil is at dinner meeting of her club.
KINBOTE
(nervous, excitement)
A suggestion, I have at my place half a gallon of Tokay. I’m ready to share my favorite wine with my favorite poet. We shall have for dinner a knackle of walnuts, a couple of large tomatoes, and a bunch of bananas. And if you agree to show me your finished product, there will be another treat; I promise to divulge to you why I gave you , or rather, who gave you, your theme.
Shade stands with the help of Kinbote’s arm
SHADE
(absently)
What theme?
KINBOTE
Our blue inenubilable Zembla, and the red-capped Steinmann, and the motorboat I the sea cave and-
SHADE
Ah, I think I guessed your secret quite some time ago. But all the same I shall sample your wine with pleasure. Okay, I can manage by myself now.”
Kinbote reluctantly releases Shade from his “helpful” arm, takes the heavy envelope from Shade, and the two head towards KINBOTE’S HOUSE. They walk across Shade’s lawn and onto the street. Horseshoes can be heard being played in the neighborhood. As they walk Kinbote clutches the envelope excited, no, elated by the packet of note-cards he holds in his hands. Shade walks slowly next to him, towards his secret shame.
A Vanessa Atalanta, a black butterfly with a red stripe, flutters around Shade for a while as the go through some bushes out front of Kinbote’s House. It finally lands on SHADES SLEEVE
They get through the bushes and to Kinbote’s House. We see on the porch a short thickset dark haired man in a shabby brown suit holding an equally shabby brown briefcase. Standing in front of the door. Shade takes notice first.
SHADE (CONT’D)
You have a caller.
Kinbote looks up and sees THE MAN.
KINBOTE
(muttering)
I will kill him.
Kinbote walks past shade up towards the house, and the man
KINBOTE (CONT’D)
Oh I will kill him.
The man turns and sees Kinbote and Shade and pulls a small handgun from his coat.
Life slows as the man fires a shot, it tears a button from Kinbote’s jacket sleeve, and a second sings past his ear.
Kinbote raises his arms and bellows in an attempt to keep the assailant from hitting Shade. He still clutches the ENVELOPE
A third shot passes Kinbote and strikes Shade in the heart.
Shade falls to the ground and the GRADUS, formally the man, comes into view prepared to fire another shot.
A SPADE flies from the bushes and collides with GRADUS’ face, he falls and from the bushes steps the GARDENER.
Kinbote checks himself thoroughly then checks the envelope, finding nothing is seriously damaged.
KINBOTE (CONT’D)
(voiceover)
The assasin had missed me, I was fine, as was my poets masterpeice.
Shade lays on the ground bleeding, Kinbote goes inside and hides the ENVELOPE in the hall CLOSET
.
KINBOTE (CONT’D)
(v.o.)
Thanks to the wonderful gardener the story of my Zembla would be told. Sadly Gradus in failing to kill the king, had destroyed my poet.
FADE TO:
INT. CABIN - NIGHT
Kinbote still sits at his small desk in the same dark, cramped cabin. He is transcibing the final words of the commentary for PALE FIRE.
KINBOTE
(v.o.)
As I finish this work, my finest work, I know that i am not safe, I must continue hiding and moving, maybe next i will turn up on another campus as a healthy, happy, heterosexual Russian writer sans fame. But whatever happens, wherever the scee is laid, somebody, somewhere, will quetly set out- somebody has already set out, somebody still rather far has landed, is walking toward a million photographers, and presently he wil ring at my door- a bigger, more respectable, more competent Gradus.
We pull back out of the cabin as Kinbote sets down his pen, slowly looks up through a window, a faint smile on his face, but his body tells us he is truly and utterly sad and alone.
FADE TO BLACK.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Poetry in a Movie
For my final paper i am going to attempt to adapt Pale Fire the novel into a screenplay. This is daunting from the start, but i have already come up with some pretty creative ideas for it. However, i cannot fathom how i will include a 999 line poem in a movie in a way that uses the actual work and isn't boring and time consuming. If anyone has any suggestions as to how they would like to see a poem in a movie tell me.
Wish me luck
Wish me luck
Monday, October 12, 2009
Midterm Paper... (I say pornography a lot!)
Lolita was published in American in the year 1958 and was almost immediately called pornography. The mainstream American public learned of its subject matter, a middle aged man falling in love and seducing a twelve year old girl, and jumped immediately to a disgusting conclusion without considering the artistic merit of Nabokov’s work. The man in charge of this class even regaled us with a tale of a dirty old man recommending him the dirty novel, Lolita.
After reading this book and studying it a bit I would be lying if I were to call this book in anyway pornographic. Nabokov said it best himself when he stated in “On a Book Entitled Lolita” “It is also true that in modern times the term ‘pornography’ connotes mediocrity… Obscenity must be mated with banality because every kind of aesthetic enjoyment has to be entirely replaced by simple sexual stimulation.” (Nabokov, p.313) This is not in any way a description of Lolita. Even the parts pinpointed by the media as pornographic upon close inspection are far from it. On page 57 of the novel begins infamous event on the davenport. Some who have only just glanced over this exchange between Lo and Humbert would say it is extremely disturbing and of an exceedingly pornographic nature. However, there is nothing pornographic about it, everything is implied in this scene, nothing is stated outright. With pornography everything must be perfectly understood, there is no room for subtlety in the world of sexual entertainment.
Even the moment at the end of part 1 of the novel when Humbert finally gets what he wanted from his Lolita is not at all pornographic in the assumed sense Humbert says “My life was handled by little Lo in an energetic, matter-of-fact manner as if it were an insensate gadget unconnected with me” BE STILL MY BEATING HEART, oh wait a moment, there is nothing at all erotic about that statement. It is not, as Nobokov said of pornography, mediocre or banal. The descriptions of implied sexual acts are not lewd; they are artistic and very, very much exclusively implied.
As this is meant to be a focused essay I cannot go into the specifics of what is erotic but the topic of intentions and purpose of pornography compared with intentions and purpose of Lolita. Pornography is meant for immediate physical satisfaction, simple as that. It would seem that Vladimir Nabokov’s purpose with Lolita the novel is for prolonged, intellectual satisfaction, the thrill up the spine that has been discussed in class. There is a place in this world for pornographic material, a very useful and specific place, which is possibly the most egregious affront brought about by referring to Lolita as pornography
Merriam-Webster dictionary defines sensual as “devoted to or preoccupied with the senses”, however, in contrast Merriam-Webster defines pornographic as “material (as books or a photograph) that depicts erotic behavior and is intended to cause sexual excitement”. The former is an excellent and succinct way of describing the novel Lolita, the latter is not. Pornography is void almost entirely of intellectual and artistic merit; Lolita is full to bursting with both of those things. I do have a final remark, if you found this book to be pornographic or smutty, you are more than probably a depraved, disgusting person who should, of course, write in a fancy prose style.
After reading this book and studying it a bit I would be lying if I were to call this book in anyway pornographic. Nabokov said it best himself when he stated in “On a Book Entitled Lolita” “It is also true that in modern times the term ‘pornography’ connotes mediocrity… Obscenity must be mated with banality because every kind of aesthetic enjoyment has to be entirely replaced by simple sexual stimulation.” (Nabokov, p.313) This is not in any way a description of Lolita. Even the parts pinpointed by the media as pornographic upon close inspection are far from it. On page 57 of the novel begins infamous event on the davenport. Some who have only just glanced over this exchange between Lo and Humbert would say it is extremely disturbing and of an exceedingly pornographic nature. However, there is nothing pornographic about it, everything is implied in this scene, nothing is stated outright. With pornography everything must be perfectly understood, there is no room for subtlety in the world of sexual entertainment.
Even the moment at the end of part 1 of the novel when Humbert finally gets what he wanted from his Lolita is not at all pornographic in the assumed sense Humbert says “My life was handled by little Lo in an energetic, matter-of-fact manner as if it were an insensate gadget unconnected with me” BE STILL MY BEATING HEART, oh wait a moment, there is nothing at all erotic about that statement. It is not, as Nobokov said of pornography, mediocre or banal. The descriptions of implied sexual acts are not lewd; they are artistic and very, very much exclusively implied.
As this is meant to be a focused essay I cannot go into the specifics of what is erotic but the topic of intentions and purpose of pornography compared with intentions and purpose of Lolita. Pornography is meant for immediate physical satisfaction, simple as that. It would seem that Vladimir Nabokov’s purpose with Lolita the novel is for prolonged, intellectual satisfaction, the thrill up the spine that has been discussed in class. There is a place in this world for pornographic material, a very useful and specific place, which is possibly the most egregious affront brought about by referring to Lolita as pornography
Merriam-Webster dictionary defines sensual as “devoted to or preoccupied with the senses”, however, in contrast Merriam-Webster defines pornographic as “material (as books or a photograph) that depicts erotic behavior and is intended to cause sexual excitement”. The former is an excellent and succinct way of describing the novel Lolita, the latter is not. Pornography is void almost entirely of intellectual and artistic merit; Lolita is full to bursting with both of those things. I do have a final remark, if you found this book to be pornographic or smutty, you are more than probably a depraved, disgusting person who should, of course, write in a fancy prose style.
This isn't a big thing for most but...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Xavier
It appears that Professor X of the Xmen may have been inspired by the character of the same name in Pale Fire... kind of cool
It appears that Professor X of the Xmen may have been inspired by the character of the same name in Pale Fire... kind of cool
Sunday, October 11, 2009
The Foreword of Pale Fire: Initial Musings, Notes, and a brief Profile of the Narrator
I started Pale Fire about a week and a half ago and am now almost finished. Since I have been given the task of talking about the Foreword on tuesday i thought i might get some thoughts straight in my blog.
Here are some initial notes i have written in the margins of my copy of Pale Fire.
- First thing i thought was important enough to underline on page 13 "There is a very loud amusement park right in front of my present lodgings" in the margins i wrote (Come back to this)
- I underlined July 11th only because that is my birthday.
- Page 26 Kinbote is discussing a photograph "My left hand is half raised - not to pat Shade on the shoulder as seems to be the intention, but to remove my sunglasses which, however, it never reached in that life, the life of the picture;" in the margin i wrote Photography death/life encapsulated RIGHT THERE!!!
- at the top of page 27 i scrawled the words "This guy is a pompous dick" then further down the page i underlined "other people, inferior people"
- I also underlined on page 28 where Kinbote refers to Shade as a conjurer, which is pretty close to an enchanter, and we all know what Nabokov believed about enchanters
- I have also underlined the last line of the Foreword which seems to be important " To this statement my dear poet would probably not have subscribed, but, for better or worse it is the commentator who has the last word"
Nabokov is playing games with us yet again. Pale Fire the poem is written by a man named Shade, while the foreword and comments are written by another man, Kinbote. Now as if that weren't convoluted enough the novel Pale Fire was of course written by Vladimir Nabokov. So we are working with a fiction written by one man, about two men who each write part of the novel. 3 writers are involved is what i'm getting at.
Charles Kinbote is the man behind the foreword. He is a strange fellow, he is rude, he is inconsiderate of most people, and yes he is justifiably intelligent, and worst of all he is obsessed with Shade. He reminds me of another literary character Ignatious J Reilly from the novel A Confederacy of Dunces, in that both Kinbote and Reilly look down on anyone they see as less intelligent, which in the eyes of both characters is pretty much everyone. Kinbote, however, has found someone he sees as more intellectually perfect than he himself is, John Shade.
These are my initial thoughts on Kinbote based solely on the foreword, I think i will come back to Kinbote and discuss him more here in a bit once i have digested the entirety of this entertaining and interesting novel.
Here are some initial notes i have written in the margins of my copy of Pale Fire.
- First thing i thought was important enough to underline on page 13 "There is a very loud amusement park right in front of my present lodgings" in the margins i wrote (Come back to this)
- I underlined July 11th only because that is my birthday.
- Page 26 Kinbote is discussing a photograph "My left hand is half raised - not to pat Shade on the shoulder as seems to be the intention, but to remove my sunglasses which, however, it never reached in that life, the life of the picture;" in the margin i wrote Photography death/life encapsulated RIGHT THERE!!!
- at the top of page 27 i scrawled the words "This guy is a pompous dick" then further down the page i underlined "other people, inferior people"
- I also underlined on page 28 where Kinbote refers to Shade as a conjurer, which is pretty close to an enchanter, and we all know what Nabokov believed about enchanters
- I have also underlined the last line of the Foreword which seems to be important " To this statement my dear poet would probably not have subscribed, but, for better or worse it is the commentator who has the last word"
Nabokov is playing games with us yet again. Pale Fire the poem is written by a man named Shade, while the foreword and comments are written by another man, Kinbote. Now as if that weren't convoluted enough the novel Pale Fire was of course written by Vladimir Nabokov. So we are working with a fiction written by one man, about two men who each write part of the novel. 3 writers are involved is what i'm getting at.
Charles Kinbote is the man behind the foreword. He is a strange fellow, he is rude, he is inconsiderate of most people, and yes he is justifiably intelligent, and worst of all he is obsessed with Shade. He reminds me of another literary character Ignatious J Reilly from the novel A Confederacy of Dunces, in that both Kinbote and Reilly look down on anyone they see as less intelligent, which in the eyes of both characters is pretty much everyone. Kinbote, however, has found someone he sees as more intellectually perfect than he himself is, John Shade.
These are my initial thoughts on Kinbote based solely on the foreword, I think i will come back to Kinbote and discuss him more here in a bit once i have digested the entirety of this entertaining and interesting novel.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
In response to The Rat and his Funny Games
James posted an interesting blog about Lolita and the film Funny Games. It got me thinking about pieces of fiction (be they novels or film or comics) that make you feel uncomfortable and sometimes outraged but are none the less intriguing and enjoyable.
What makes art really worth sitting through? Lolita is the perfect novel for this sort of question but there are others that are quite disturbing, Naked Lunch for instance, although i have never finished that book so I shall not discuss it further. However there is a disgusting, foul, vulgar book I have finished and thoroughly enjoyed. Crooked Little Vein by Warren Ellis is, like Lolita, a detective novel, about the search for the real constitution of the united states, a piece of writing so influential that simply hearing it read aloud will compel you to do whatever it tells you to do. Throughout the book the hero faces bestiality, public masturbation, sadistic ritualistic murder, and sexual threats from elderly senators (and thats just the first 50 pages). Now your average citizen reading this would throw it down at the first mention of people who have sexual fantasies about Godzilla, however I kept reading.
Why do people continue on adventures like these? Very few people are comfortable with pedophilia or pretty much anything in Crooked Little Vein, or Funny Games, yet people continue reading them, and in the case of Lolita and Funny Games proclaim them masterworks of there respective forms.
My belief is that intelligent people enjoy these works because they can see that the creators use the uncomfortableness to prove the point. The point of Lolita is not the pedophelia, thats just the Mcguffin.
P.S. For those of you who have read both books I am in no way putting Crooked Little Vein on the same intellectual level as Lolita
What makes art really worth sitting through? Lolita is the perfect novel for this sort of question but there are others that are quite disturbing, Naked Lunch for instance, although i have never finished that book so I shall not discuss it further. However there is a disgusting, foul, vulgar book I have finished and thoroughly enjoyed. Crooked Little Vein by Warren Ellis is, like Lolita, a detective novel, about the search for the real constitution of the united states, a piece of writing so influential that simply hearing it read aloud will compel you to do whatever it tells you to do. Throughout the book the hero faces bestiality, public masturbation, sadistic ritualistic murder, and sexual threats from elderly senators (and thats just the first 50 pages). Now your average citizen reading this would throw it down at the first mention of people who have sexual fantasies about Godzilla, however I kept reading.
Why do people continue on adventures like these? Very few people are comfortable with pedophilia or pretty much anything in Crooked Little Vein, or Funny Games, yet people continue reading them, and in the case of Lolita and Funny Games proclaim them masterworks of there respective forms.
My belief is that intelligent people enjoy these works because they can see that the creators use the uncomfortableness to prove the point. The point of Lolita is not the pedophelia, thats just the Mcguffin.
P.S. For those of you who have read both books I am in no way putting Crooked Little Vein on the same intellectual level as Lolita
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
A Letter To Amanda on Literary Pedophilia
It seems to me that Nabokov simply wanted a literary challenge. To take a despicable child abusing murderer (well for most of the book simply self-proclaimed murderer) and make him likable and almost (ALMOST) forgivable. I think Nabokov, if this was his intention, succeeded quite well.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
The problem of the 1st memory
This is my first blog entry, a little later than most but as I'm sure someone important has said in the past "Better late than never"!
I have been tasked with recalling a first memory, and I have dug and dredged through my mind for an earliest memory that I formed on my own. This has proven difficult to the point of impossibility. Luckily, the impossibility stems from something our mutual friend Nabokov was fascinated with PHOTOGRAPHY!! My parents, being card carrying members of the slowly aging Gen X, have been wielding video cameras since before I was born. The problem this causes in regards to my early childhood memories is one of "delayed memory formation" which is of course a term i have just made up.
I have been watching home movies of myself since I was old enough to speak which means i cannot vouch for any of my memories being actual memories or remembrances of a time that i watched a video of myself doing something. It's extremely complicated and more than a little bit ridiculous.
For instance, I have a memory of being 7 and watching a video of 2 year old Parker Connell playing with a set of plastic golf clubs. I remember these golfclubs very vividly not because I had fun with them, but because I had fun watching myself have fun with them. How messed up is that?
Thus concludes my first blog entry of the year.
I have been tasked with recalling a first memory, and I have dug and dredged through my mind for an earliest memory that I formed on my own. This has proven difficult to the point of impossibility. Luckily, the impossibility stems from something our mutual friend Nabokov was fascinated with PHOTOGRAPHY!! My parents, being card carrying members of the slowly aging Gen X, have been wielding video cameras since before I was born. The problem this causes in regards to my early childhood memories is one of "delayed memory formation" which is of course a term i have just made up.
I have been watching home movies of myself since I was old enough to speak which means i cannot vouch for any of my memories being actual memories or remembrances of a time that i watched a video of myself doing something. It's extremely complicated and more than a little bit ridiculous.
For instance, I have a memory of being 7 and watching a video of 2 year old Parker Connell playing with a set of plastic golf clubs. I remember these golfclubs very vividly not because I had fun with them, but because I had fun watching myself have fun with them. How messed up is that?
Thus concludes my first blog entry of the year.
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