Dans les montagnes enneigées de la Suisse, Kern, un étudiant hanté par la mort, éprouve une passion impossible pour l'insaisissable Isabelle. Lorsque Simpson voit le portrait de la Vénitienne peint par Sebastiano del Piombo, il est fasciné et en tombe éperdument amoureux. Le tableau exerce sur lui une telle attirance qu'il ne peut s'empêcher de revenir le contempler jour après jour, jusqu'à ce qu'il pénètre dans la toile... Deux nouvelles au charme subtil et envoûtant par l'auteur controversé de Lolita.
Vladimir Nabokov (Russian: Владимир Набоков) was a writer defined by a life of forced movement and extraordinary linguistic transformation. Born into a wealthy, liberal aristocratic family in St. Petersburg, Russia, he grew up trilingual, speaking Russian, English, and French in a household that nurtured his intellectual curiosities, including a lifelong passion for butterflies. This seemingly idyllic, privileged existence was abruptly shattered by the Bolshevik Revolution, which forced the family into permanent exile in 1919. This early, profound experience of displacement and the loss of a homeland became a central, enduring theme in his subsequent work, fueling his exploration of memory, nostalgia, and the irretrievable past. The first phase of his literary life began in Europe, primarily in Berlin, where he established himself as a leading voice among the Russian émigré community under the pseudonym "Vladimir Sirin". During this prolific period, he penned nine novels in his native tongue, showcasing a precocious talent for intricate plotting and character study. Works like The Defense explored obsession through the extended metaphor of chess, while Invitation to a Beheading served as a potent, surreal critique of totalitarian absurdity. In 1925, he married Véra Slonim, an intellectual force in her own right, who would become his indispensable partner, editor, translator, and lifelong anchor. The escalating shadow of Nazism necessitated another, urgent relocation in 1940, this time to the United States. It was here that Nabokov undertook an extraordinary linguistic metamorphosis, making the challenging yet resolute shift from Russian to English as his primary language of expression. He became a U.S. citizen in 1945, solidifying his new life in North America. To support his family, he took on academic positions, first founding the Russian department at Wellesley College, and later serving as a highly regarded professor of Russian and European literature at Cornell University from 1948 to 1959. During this academic tenure, he also dedicated significant time to his other great passion: lepidoptery. He worked as an unpaid curator of butterflies at Harvard University's Museum of Comparative Zoology. His scientific work was far from amateurish; he developed novel taxonomic methods and a groundbreaking, highly debated theory on the migration patterns and phylogeny of the Polyommatus blue butterflies, a hypothesis that modern DNA analysis confirmed decades later. Nabokov achieved widespread international fame and financial independence with the publication of Lolita in 1955, a novel that was initially met with controversy and censorship battles due to its provocative subject matter concerning a middle-aged literature professor and his obsession with a twelve-year-old girl. The novel's critical and commercial success finally allowed him to leave teaching and academia behind. In 1959, he and Véra moved permanently to the quiet luxury of the Montreux Palace Hotel in Switzerland, where he focused solely on writing, translating his earlier Russian works into meticulous English, and studying local butterflies. His later English novels, such as Pale Fire (1962), a complex, postmodern narrative structured around a 999-line poem and its delusional commentator, cemented his reputation as a master stylist and a technical genius. His literary style is characterized by intricate wordplay, a profound use of allusion, structural complexity, and an insistence on the artist's total, almost tyrannical, control over their created world. Nabokov often expressed disdain for what he termed "topical trash" and the simplistic interpretations of Freudian psychoanalysis, preferring instead to focus on the power of individual consciousness, the mechanics of memory, and the intricate, often deceptive, interplay between art and perceived "reality". His unique body of work, straddling multiple cultures and languages, continues to
La Vénitienne is a 5/5. Décrire la douceur et les embruns translucides d’une rosée matinale, la cire ambrée et miroitante du vernis vénitien, la moiteur incandescente d’une présence désirée et le pincement atroce et délicieux d’un peintre qui n’est plus … il n’y a que Nabokov qui sache le faire avec un tel degré de précision, de beauté, et de troublante acuité sensorielle. Lire Nabokov c’est surtout outrepasser le 4eme mur, se joindre à ses réflexions, celles des personnages, tout en s’adressant à nous directement en tant qu’autre observateur objectif de la scène qui semble se dérouler de son propre chef, et non pas comme si il s’agissait de sa propre création. Il n’y a pas plus belle incitation à la lecture d’une histoire : celle d’y participer.
Un peu mitigée sur la première nouvelle, assez bizarre. J'ai eu un peu de mal à rentrer dedans et à comprendre ce que l'auteur voulait dire. Par contre la deuxième était franchement bien, la construction et l'intrigue étaient beaucoup plus claires.
Je n'ai pas beaucoup accroché à la première nouvelle "Un coup d'aile". En revanche, j'ai adoré la seconde : "La vénitienne". En raison de mon intérêt pour l'histoire de l'art, les histoires de personnages de tableau qui sortent de leur cadre ou au contraire de spectateurs qui se trouvent happer par l'œuvre me fascine.