The Gift is the last of the novels Nabokov wrote in his native Russian and the crowning achievement of that period in his literary career.It is also his ode to Russian literature, evoking the works of Pushkin, Gogol, and others in the course of its narrative:the story of Fyodor Godunov-Cherdyntsev, an impoverished émigré poet living in Berlin, who dreams of the book he will someday write--a book very much like The Gift itself.
Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov was born on April 23, 1899, in St. Petersburg, Russia. The Nabokovs were known for their high culture and commitment to public service, and the elder Nabokov was an outspoken opponent of antisemitism and one of the leaders of the opposition party, the Kadets. In 1919, following the Bolshevik revolution, he took his family into exile. Four years later he was shot and killed at a political rally in Berlin while trying to shield the speaker from right-wing assassins.
The Nabokov household was trilingual, and as a child Nabokov was already reading Wells, Poe, Browning, Keats, Flaubert, Verlaine, Rimbaud, Tolstoy, and Chekhov, alongside the popular entertainments of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Jules Verne. As a young man, he studied Slavic and romance languages at Trinity College, Cambridge, taking his honors degree in 1922. For the next eighteen years he lived in Berlin and Paris, writing prolifically in Russian under the pseudonym Sirin and supporting himself through translations, lessons in English and tennis, and by composing the first crossword puzzles in Russian. In 1925 he married Vera Slonim, with whom he had one child, a son, Dmitri.
Having already fled Russia and Germany, Nabokov became a refugee once more in 1940, when he was forced to leave France for the United States. There he taught at Wellesley, Harvard, and Cornell. He also gave up writing in Russian and began composing fiction in English. In his afterword to Lolita he claimed: "My private tragedy, which cannot, and indeed should not, be anybody's concern, is that I had to abandon my natural idiom, my untrammeled, rich, and infinitely docile Russian tongue for a second-rate brand of English, devoid of any of those apparatuses--the baffling mirror, the black velvet backdrop, the implied associations and traditions--which the native illusionist, frac-tails flying, can magically use to transcend the heritage in his own way." [p. 317] Yet Nabokov's American period saw the creation of what are arguably his greatest works, Bend Sinister (1947), Lolita (1955), Pnin (1957), and Pale Fire (1962), as well as the translation of his earlier Russian novels into English. He also undertook English translations of works by Lermontov and Pushkin and wrote several books of criticism. Vladimir Nabokov died in Montreux, Switzerland, in 1977.
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这本书,说实话,拿到手的时候,我对它的期待值是挺高的,毕竟封面设计得很有那种古典的韵味,那种深沉的蓝色调,配上烫金的字体,让人感觉里面藏着一个古老的秘密或者一段史诗般的旅程。我翻开第一页,就被作者那种叙事的声音给吸引住了。他用的词汇很考究,不是那种大白话的直白叙述,而是带着一种音乐般的韵律感,仿佛每一个句子都经过了细细打磨。故事的开端铺垫得非常巧妙,它没有急着把核心冲突抛出来,而是花了大篇幅去描绘主角生活的那个环境——一个被时间遗忘的小镇,那里的空气似乎都凝固了,人们的日常琐碎被刻画得栩栩如生,让你能清晰地感受到那种被压抑的、缓慢流逝的生活节奏。我尤其喜欢他对人物心理的细腻捕捉,比如主角在某个清晨面对镜子时那种复杂的情绪波动,那种对自身处境的迷茫和隐隐的不甘,作者仅仅通过几个眼神的特写和内心独白,就将人物的灵魂袒露无遗。这本书的魅力就在于它让你慢下来,去品味那些日常生活中容易被忽略的细节,每一个场景的描绘都像是一幅精心构图的油画,色彩浓郁,层次分明。读到大概三分之一的时候,情节开始有了转折的迹象,那种潜藏在平静之下的暗流终于开始涌动,让人不禁屏住呼吸,想知道这看似平静的湖面之下到底隐藏着怎样的风暴。
评分这本书最成功的地方,在于它成功地营造了一种超越现实的氛围,但这种“超出现实”并非是奇幻或魔幻,而更像是一种对我们自身感知边界的拓展。它探讨了“真实”的相对性,模糊了记忆、梦境与当下事件之间的界限,让你开始怀疑自己所经历的一切是否真的如表面看起来那样确定。故事中的某些情节设置得极其诡谲,逻辑上似乎存在着巨大的跳跃,但奇怪的是,在故事的内在情绪驱动下,你却能心甘情愿地接受这种“非理性”的合理性。这就像走进了爱丽丝的仙境,你明知道规则正在被颠覆,但你对继续探索的渴望压倒了一切质疑。作者似乎在挑战我们对叙事完整性的固有认知,他更关心的是个体经验的碎片化和情感的内在真实,而非外部世界的逻辑一致性。这种对读者心理的挑战,使得这本书的讨论空间非常大,每次重读,可能都会因为自身心境的变化而发掘出全新的解读层次。它更像是一面棱镜,折射出读者内心深处那些未被言说的困惑和渴望,是一部需要沉浸其中、与之共振才能体会其精髓的佳作。
评分这本书最让我印象深刻的,是它对“失去”这一主题的探讨,其深度和广度远远超出了我的想象。它并非简单地描绘角色的悲伤或怀旧,而是将“失去”这个概念分解成了无数个切面去审视。有的是物质上的剥夺,有的是情感上的断裂,有的是记忆的模糊,甚至还有对某种“可能性”的永恒错失。作者通过一系列强烈的对比手法,让这种失去显得尤为尖锐。比如,在一个极度丰饶、物资充裕的场景之后,紧接着就是对极度匮乏的描绘,这种强烈的落差感,让读者真切地体会到“拥有”与“失去”之间那条脆弱的界限。我特别欣赏作者在处理角色面对创伤时的态度——没有廉价的治愈或快速的和解。相反,角色们带着那些伤痕继续前行,伤疤成为了他们生命经验的一部分,而不是需要被抹去的污点。这种对人性复杂性的真实呈现,使得人物形象异常立体和可信。我甚至能感觉到,作者本人对“人终有一别”的命题有着深刻的体悟,这种体悟透过文字渗透出来,让整个阅读过程带上了一种近乎冥想的庄重感。这不是一本读完就能立刻忘记的书,它会像一个印记一样,留在你审视自己过往经历的视角里。
评分我必须承认,这本书的结构设计简直是鬼斧神工,它不像传统叙事那样线性推进,而是采用了多重时间线的交织手法,就像一首复杂的赋格曲,不同的旋律线并行发展,时不时地在关键节点上相互交汇、碰撞,产生出令人震撼的共鸣。这种叙事手法对读者的专注力要求很高,你得时刻留意那些时间标记和叙述视角的转换,但一旦你适应了这种节奏,那种阅读的快感简直无与伦比。作者似乎很擅长埋设“烟雾弹”,在看似不相关的支线情节中,偷偷植入一些日后会成为关键的线索,初读时你可能只觉得它们是些无关紧要的插曲,但当故事发展到后半段,那些碎片突然完美地拼合在一起时,那种恍然大悟的震撼感是无与伦比的。比如,某个配角在开篇时一句不经意的评论,到了高潮部分才发现,那句话其实是解读整个事件核心的关键。此外,书中的世界观构建也极为宏大且复杂,它不仅仅是一个简单的背景设定,而是一套自洽的社会规则、历史遗留问题和隐秘的哲学体系的集合。阅读过程中,我时常需要停下来,对照着自己做的一些笔记,去梳理人物之间的复杂关系网和历史事件的先后顺序。这种需要“动脑子”的阅读体验,正是如今许多快餐式文学作品所缺乏的深度和回味价值。
评分从语言风格上来说,这本书简直是一场词汇的盛宴,仿佛作者是一位精通炼金术的语言大师,能将最朴实的词语组合出最奇特、最令人耳目一新的意象。它的修辞手法运用得极为大胆且精准,没有丝毫的堆砌感,每一个比喻都像是为那个特定的情境量身定做。举个例子,当描述角色处于极度焦虑时,作者没有用“心跳加速”之类的陈词滥调,而是将其比作“胸腔里困住了一群振翅的、带着铁锈的蝴蝶”,这一下子就将那种痛苦和金属的冰冷感结合了起来,极具画面感和冲击力。这种对细节的关注也体现在对环境声响的捕捉上,那些细微的摩擦声、远处传来的模糊钟声,都被赋予了某种象征意义,它们不再是背景音,而是推动叙事或暗示情感转折的无形力量。这本书的阅读难度可能稍微偏高,因为它拒绝做任何让步,要求读者主动去解码那些隐喻和象征,但回报也是巨大的——你不仅仅是在阅读一个故事,更是在欣赏一种极致的文字艺术。读完后,我甚至会不自觉地拿起笔记本,尝试分析某个段落中动词的选择和介词的布局,这种“拆解”的欲望,恰恰证明了文本本身的扎实和精妙。
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评分俄罗斯痕迹比较重的几本之一,如果对俄罗斯文学有一些不了解的地方甚至会造成阅读障碍。但纳博科夫作品中最为精髓的风格仍然dominant,有些文字组合用他自己的话来说是一种精妙的infernal cooperative,通感者的天赋让他尽情地在字间洒下魔法。仍然,就像他其他的作品一样,读者会从中感受到痛苦,这种痛苦正是来自于对他那一份深爱的察觉。就像是想要把破碎的镜子拼回原状时割伤了手,但心里却很清楚真正引起痛苦的并不是伤口本身,而是一不留神而又无可避免地看到了那些镜子碎片在阳光底下反射出的,五彩斑斓的回忆。他借Fyodor的口说出"I lust for immortality— even for its earthly shadow." Now you have it.
评分俄罗斯痕迹比较重的几本之一,如果对俄罗斯文学有一些不了解的地方甚至会造成阅读障碍。但纳博科夫作品中最为精髓的风格仍然dominant,有些文字组合用他自己的话来说是一种精妙的infernal cooperative,通感者的天赋让他尽情地在字间洒下魔法。仍然,就像他其他的作品一样,读者会从中感受到痛苦,这种痛苦正是来自于对他那一份深爱的察觉。就像是想要把破碎的镜子拼回原状时割伤了手,但心里却很清楚真正引起痛苦的并不是伤口本身,而是一不留神而又无可避免地看到了那些镜子碎片在阳光底下反射出的,五彩斑斓的回忆。他借Fyodor的口说出"I lust for immortality— even for its earthly shadow." Now you have it.
评分Chernyshevsky那段因为不了解苏联历史所以完全没看明白 最喜欢第二章和第五章 别说Fyodor了连我都要爱上爸爸了:)非常Nabokovian非常mean永远在teasing永远在pay attention to the most trivial details永远beautifully written
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