Creating the Creation: Pale Fire and The Tempest

      My paper will explore connections between Shakespeare’s The Tempest and Nabokov’s Pale Fire, specifically those regarding the power of creation and its products.  In addition to comparing characters and themes fundamental to both, I am especially interested in the role of the creator.  By creator I don’t just mean the author, but the characters within the texts that seem to explicitly create (John Shade as a poet and Prospero as a conjurer of magic), the commentators to those texts, whether it be explicit (Kinbote) or implicit (the editors) commentary, the inspiration that elicits the creation (Hazel Shade) and the reception of the audience and its involvement in the work.  I also will investigate the role of the characters within each text as shades or foils to one another.  While some may seem absolutely contradictory, others play similar roles.  Ultimately I want to assert that Pale Fire, like The Tempest, is a work that requires the participation of many actors to be successful.  For it is quite obvious that John Shade’s Pale Fire could not stand effectively on its own, that Kinbote’s preface, commentary and index require the reader to interact with the text in a playful manner, that Hazel Shade’s significance in the novel is far beyond what meets the eye, and that while Nabokov may be the “real” man behind the incredibly impractical novel, when we read Pale Fire we are ultimately spellbound by a suspension of disbelief and accept his fantasy world. 

      

Sycorax and Hazel?

My last blog was a somewhat frantic exploration of the idea that Pale Fire is infused with The Tempest everywhere.  I still believe this, however, I now want to take into account Ashley’s idea that Hazel is the perpetrator or motivator of the creation of Pale Fire. Perhaps it is Hazel, and not Shade, Kinbote or even Nabokov who may be seen as the Prospero figure.  The supernatural experiences, namely the ghost incident that lasted a month on the commentary to line 230 and the barn scene on the commentary to line 347, clearly set her aside from the other characters operating in the novel and share in Prospero’s magical abilities.  But beyond this, perhaps her negative capability to influence everything and remain elusive, as I attributed to Nabokov in my last blog, removes her from any central character.  Maybe she is more like Sycorax, who may be seen as a foil for Prospero, who is removed long before The Tempest begins and yet is the primary reason the tempest and The Tempest exist.  Sycorax is a witch long dead and removed from the island in The Tempst  before the play begins.  However, it is presumed that her existence and supernatural powers are learned from Prospero to create.  In this sense, perhaps it is Shade or Kinbote who embody the Prospero character more.  After all, Kinbote does exclaim how, “Hazel Shade resembled me in certain respects” (commentary to lines 347-8) when discussing mirror words and noting that redips is the backwards of spider.  Interesting enough it is the words of spells within books that allow Prospero to learn the magic that belonged originally to Sycorax.  By understanding the same language they are both able to create.  Or perhaps it is Shade or maybe he is the Ariel character who actually puts the magic into motion...clearly these are more discombobulated thoughts...more on this to come.  

Nabokov on Proust

           “One thing should be firmly impressed upon your minds: the work is not an autobiography; the narrator is not Proust the person, and the characters never existed except in the author’s mind.  Let us not, therefore, go into the author’s life.  It is of no importance in the present case and would only cloud the issue, especially as the narrator and the author do resemble each other in various ways and move in much the same environment.

            Proust is a prism.  His, or its, sole object is to refract, and by refracting to recreate a world in retrospect.  The world itself, the inhabitants of the world, are of no social or historical importance whatsoever.”

Tempest of Plaudits

  

Scene from Shakespeare's The Tempest by Hogarth; Circa 1735

In her review of Pale Fire, Mary McCarthy discusses Nabokov’s inclusion of references to Shakespeare’s The Tempest, among many of his other plays:

“Prospero of The Tempest pops in and out of the commentary, like a Fata Morgana, to mislead the reader into looking for “pale fire" in Shakespeare's swansong. It is not there, but The Tempest is in Pale Fire: Prospero's emerald isle, called the He of Divels, in the New World, Iris and Juno's peacock, sea caves, the chess game of Ferdinand and Miranda, Prospero's enchantments, his lost kingdom, and Caliban, whom he taught language, that supreme miracle of mirroring.”

While these allusions are sure to enthuse, what is most interesting to me is the idea that The Tempest offers on the relationship between artist and creation and how it is manifested in Pale Fire.  Shakespeare’s play tells the story of a usurped duke, Prospero, who is cast off to an island with his daughter, where he learns magical powers.  With the help of his spirit, he creates a tempest to bring those who did him wrong to the island.  Using his powers to manipulate those wrongdoers on the island, he creates a reality of his own in a distant land.

While The Tempest is a reality within a play, it is further a reality of Shakespeare’s creation.  Pale Fire’s layers are a bit more complex, however.  At first we may assume that the poem is, as stated, from Shade, and the foreword, commentary, and index belong to the mind of Kinbote.  However, the striking resemblances between the two men may lead us to question whether or not Shade is a figment of Kinbote’s imagination.  However, the understanding that Kinbote is really the insane Botkin, makes it seem improbable that he would be capable of writing such a poem, let alone understanding the humor in his misreading of the poem (similar to Brian Boyd’s assertion that it would be impossible to assume that The Tempest is merely Caliban’s dream).  One may conclude then that it is possible that Shade is the master of both poem and commentary; that he actually died before the last page number of the index could be included.  However, this, as Boyd states, becomes troubled too, “because the more we accept Shade as author of both poem and commentary, the less we can be sure that someone who has invented Zembla and his own murder has not already transformed the life he presents in the poem in order to make the poem and commentary fit” (Boyd 454).  Like The Tempest, we can look to the metatheatricallity of Pale Fire and assume the author has something to do with the many layers of mapping both creation and created.

           

Of interest to this idea is the commentary of line 130 (I never bounced a ball or swung a bat…):

On Eyestein’s portrait:

“This device which was apparently meant to enhance the effect of his tactile and tonal values had, however, something ignoble about it and disclosed not only an essential flaw in Eyestein’s talent, but the basic fact that “reality” is neither the subject nor the object of true art which creates its own special reality having nothing to do with the average “reality” perceived by the communal eye.”

            The reality of the painting, like Pale Fire is not that it imitates life, or that we can make sense of the creation, but that the creation itself is a work of art.  Trying to make sense of every layer of reality within Pale Fire in terms of our own reality is impossible, but valuing it for those inexhaustible layers is not.  While the infinite regress may lead us back to Nabokov the creator, we realize his negative capability to loom in every nook of Pale Fire, and yet never be centralized. 

           

This brings me to another passage from the same commentary of 130:

“This grotesque sensation, at this diabolical instant, solved the mystery of the passage even before he wriggled at last through the drapery into the dimly lit, dimly cluttered lumbarkamer which had once been Iris Acht’s dressing room in the Royal Theater…The scarlet-clothed fugitive blinked and made for the hall.  It led to a number of dressing rooms.  Somewhere beyond it a tempest of plaudits grew in volume before petering out.  Other distant sounds marked the beginning of the intermission.  Several costumed performers passed by the King, and in one of them he recognized Odon.”

The King’s second escape from the castle brings him to the Royal Theater, likely a reference to Shakespeare’s Royal Globe Theater.  As nothing is accidental in Nabokov, the “tempest of plaudits” caught my attention in conjunction with the epilogue of The Tempest. 

Prospero:

Now my charms are all o'erthrown,

And what strength I have’s mine own,

Which is most faint. Now, ’tis true,

I must be here confined by you,

Or sent to Naples. Let me not,

Since I have my dukedom got

And pardoned the deceiver, dwell

In this bare island by your spell,

But release me from my bands

With the help of your good hands.

Gentle breath of yours my sails

Must fill, or else my project fails,

Which was to please. Now I want

Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,

And my ending is despair,

Unless I be relieved by prayer,

Which pierces so that it assaults

Mercy itself and frees all faults.

As you from crimes would pardoned be,

Let your indulgence set me free.

            Noteworthy is that Kinbote is met by actors and applause upon his exile (though not directed at him) in the home of Shakespeare.  Zembla, like the play performed, is the creation of someone.  However, in order for the reader to get the richness of Pale Fire, he must suspend his disbelief and allow himself to be immersed in the “reality” that the novel presents.  Believing in Zembla may not be necessary, but understanding its existence somewhere, if temporarily, is essential to mapping the infinite regresses in Pale Fire.  Like Prospero (or perhaps Shakespeare?) claims in The Tempest’s epilogue, it is applause that will allow for his freedom.  For the tempest of plaudits is the moment the reader or audience becomes conscious of the allusion necessary for understanding.  Whether or not the pulling of the curtain, as Toto does to the Wizard, complicates or clarifies our understanding of the layers of reality, it is necessary to revealing their existence.  

Boyd, Brian. Vladimir Nabokov: the American Years. Princeton, NJ: Princeton UP, 1991. Print.

Nietzsche & Pale Fire

Nietzsche’s Birth of Tragedy asserts that in order to live the good life, one must experience and understand Dionysian influences while embracing the obvious values of the Apollonian.  This duality is essential because it allows for the world of dreams and the world of intoxication to blend harmoniously and provide for individuals to create art.  For if one cannot allow for this harmony, one will be destined to perish or live absurdly rational.  Pale Fire is a work that embodies the synchronization of both; with Shade’s poem signifying the Apollonian force of reason and reality differentiated by forms and Kinbote’s analysis as its Dionysian chaotic counterpart.  Shade’s character is similar to that of Socrates, whom Nietzsche saw as the destroyer of real art or tragedy, because he brings reason to the point of the destruction of myth.  Nietzsche saw this as degenerative because emphasis on logical reasoning destroys one’s ability to stand face in the horror of life (or, the inescapable looming of one’s death).  Dionysian myth, intoxication, barbaric sexuality and ecstasy is then essential to embracing one’s life and making art in the wake of death.  Madness is vital as it breaks down one’s character and returns it to its primal state.  Kinbote’s embodiment of these ideals seems obvious, and this duality is what I plan to explore in my paper.  For John Shade’s poem would be nothing without Kinbote’s analysis, and vice versa.  For, as Nietzsche claims, “only the curious blending and duality in the emotions of the Dionysian revelers remind us- as medicines remind us of deadly poisons- of the phenomenon that pain begets joy, that ecstasy may wring sounds of agony from us.”  Additionally, some cicada myth may be scattered throughout my paper

  

2nd century Roman statue of Dionysus, after a Hellenistic model

Plato and Ibsen

After reading some of Ibsen’s plays and participating in class discussions on others, it seems that Plato largely influenced the playwright. 

Part I.  The Master Builder

The idea of castles in the air raised by Ibsen in The Master Builder is similar to the Platonic distinction amongst forms and things in the world.  Hilda desires for Soleness to build, “the absolute loveliest thing in the whole world” which is later named castle in the air (Ibsen 412).  Hilda additionally explains the ease of building and promises that it will provide a hiding place.  However, these lovely constructions seem foundationless, which ultimately lead to the destruction of Soleness.

Plato’s intelligible world is one that is imperfect yet accessible.  However, while there are things in the world that seem beautiful, big, or round, they are so because they participate in the form of the Beauty, Bigness, or Roundness.  In his dialogue, The Phaedo, he explains:

“I no longer understand or recognize those other sophisticated causes, and if someone tells me that a thing is beautiful because it has a bright color or shape or any such thing, I ignore these other reasons- for all these confuse me- but I simply, naively, and perhaps foolishly cling to this, that nothing else makes it beautiful other than the presence of, or the sharing in, or however you may describe its relationship to that Beautiful we mentioned, for I will not insist on the precise nature of the relationship, but that all beautiful things are beautiful by the Beautiful” (Phaedo 100d1-12).

            This world of forms is unreachable, however, things in the real world may participate in them. The Phaedo says forms are unchangeable (78c10-d9), intelligible, not perceptible (79a1-5), divine (80a3, b1), and causes of being (100c).  While it is difficult to understand the exact relationship between the intelligible objects and the forms they partake in, Plato claims it is a type of participation through abstraction.  These forms should guide our morality and lead us to understand the imperfections of the intelligible world. 

Furthermore, forms are objects of anamnesis (the loss of forgetfulness); a sort of answer to the sophistic paradox found in The Meno:

“Meno:  How will you look for it, Socrates, when you do not know at all what it is?  How will you aim to search for something you do not know at all?  If you should meet with it, how will you know that this is the thing that you did not know?

Socrates:  I know what you want to say, Meno.  Do you realize what a debater’s argument you are bringing up, that a man cannot search either for what he knows or for what he does not know?  He cannot search for what he knows- since he knows it, there is no need to search- nor for what he does not know, for he does not know what to look for” (Meno 80d4-7-e1-5). 

 Because knowledge for Plato is a priori and not empirical, forms are recollectable truths.  This genuine knowledge lies outside of bodily experience and inside the soul, and differs from true belief in that it is knowable truth because of its origin.  From here, Plato’s case begins to stray from commonplace logical argumentation; however, many of the aforementioned tenants are seen in The Master Builder. 

One thing to note is the fact that Soleness is a self-taught master builder.  This may somehow relate to Platonic anamnesis, especially in terms of the type of knowledge that Plato describes in The Meno (see Dustin’s blog, “On the Varieties of Truth” that explains Socrates’ instruction of the Slave Boy). 

Secondly, the concept of castles in the air is a sort of materialization of forms in the text- those goals and ideas that are impossible to reach; yet we strive to embody or achieve them anyways.  Soleness, however, was mesmerized by these false hopes, so that instead of providing an ethical framework to strive towards, his desire to build castles in the air became an all-encompassing passion that killed him in the end.

Thirdly, Hilda’s existence in the intelligible world is questioned.  It seems that she may be a sort of second half to Soleness who expresses his pent-up desires.  If we take this idea seriously, perhaps Hilda represents Soleness’ actual soul (his psyche), which has access to the form world.  This may be the reason why she desires Soleness (who may be representative of the material body) to reach it. 

For Dustin

The Idea of Order at Key West (pt. 2)

The last class discussion surrounding The Idea of Order at Key West focused predominantly on the woman’s use of language to create meaning in ways that cannot be replicated by human-less nature.  The discussion promoted authorship and human creation as powerful and more capable of revealing the essence of a thing than nature without human interaction.  Furthermore, when discussing the best way to portray Key West, the class found that representations involving human conception might have a more powerful influence on the interpreter’s ability to understand the moment at the sea.

If we are aiming to understand the moment at sea felt by a human, then perhaps the painting or creative illustrations are most useful.  However, is this what we always strive to do?  Is the emphasis on authorship vital to understanding the essence of a thing or merely a moment to be shared by people?  Why is it that the human element breathes life into meaning?  Is it just that the tools used to create meaning are more familiar than the raw elements seen in nature and in turn make more sense to us?  Is there not an additional imagination factor that invites the reader to use creativity in the interpretation of meaning?  When telling someone about Key West through a painting, the emotional experience of the creator is intrinsically woven into the work.  However, does this make the piece more interesting or vital to connecting one human to the work?  Is there any merit in the reader’s response to raw nature, regardless of whether the familiar language we use to communicate is absent?  

The Idea of Order at Key West (pt. 1)

Wallace Stevens’ The Idea of Order at Key West

Jaques Derrida’s literary theory of deconstruction claims meaning “cannot legitimately transgress the text toward something other than it, toward a referent (a reality that is metaphysical, historical, psychobiographical, etc.) or toward a signified outside the text whose content could take place, could have taken place outside of language, that is to say, in the sense that we give here to that word, outside of writing in general…There is nothing outside the text.” Thus, art meaning comes from non-contingent, variable chance and an unlimited number of meanings can be taken from a work.  Because texts are recontextualized when read throughout history by different readers, meaning will change based on the workings of signification of the text for that person. 

The Idea of Order at Key West suggests a familiar relationship to text and the sea and the meaning and the she.   It seems that the sea works like the text with “empty sleeves” causing “constant cry”, however incomprehensible because of its inhumanity.  It is dead, like unread words on a page.  The woman, however, is a different entity.  While she mimics the sea’s every word, her song is entirely different and is the voice heard.  Stevens calls her, “the maker of the song she sang” which seems to bring in Derrida’s idea of deconstruction.  The sea’s song is the text, the language which meaning will derive from completely.  However, her song is the one that derives the meanings.  The sea’s song is home to the place she “walks to sing” though it is no more than “meaningless plunges of water and wind”.  When she sings in summer, she brings in “theatrical distances, bronze shadows heaped on high horizons, mountainous atmospheres of sea and sky.”  These significations allow for the possibly selfless sea to become, “the self that was her song, for she was the maker.”  Thus, all meaning is derived from a text and only a text, but it is the signification of the reader that gives it life.