All colors made me happy: even gray. — Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire (line 29)
The weaker the organ the longer the impression of the image lasts. — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Theory of Colours (pg 51, section 121. )
My recent inquiries into perception made me curious to know the oft-cited primary text of Goethe’s Theory of Colours. It is an interesting read, particularly as the content has been thoroughly disapproved making the reading of it a philosophical or poetical exercise more than a scientific one.
Time means succession, and succession, change:
Hence timelessness is bound to disarrange
Schedules of sentiment… —Pale Fire (lines 567-569)
Thus inspiration already presupposes expiration; thus every systole its diastole. —Theory of Colour (15, section 38.)
The beautiful fiction in the non-fiction that is twisted inadvertently by Goethe is conversely, in Pale Fire, “written” by John Shade in four cantos, and yet, similarly, bent. Nabokov elegantly distorts fiction and non-fiction and intentionally plays a stark psychology off the poetical and philosophical posit. The ruse of John Shade is elaborate…what is the purpose? It seems to me that by creating, for example through the officialness of the “About the Author” page followed by “Other Books by the Author,” a Nabokovian mocking of the surety of our perception of truth gains a profoundly moving and tender, if tremulous, capital T Truth.
Life Everlasting-based on a misprint!
I mused as I drove homeward: take the hint,
And stop investigating my abyss?
But all at once it dawned on me that this
Was the real point, the counterpuntal theme;
Just this: not text, but texture; not dream
But topsy-turvical coincidence,
Not flimsy nonsense, but a web of sense.
Yes! It sufficed that I in life could find
Some kind of link-and-bobolink, some kind
Of correlated pattern in the game,
Plexed artistry, and something of the same
Pleasure in it as they who played it found. —Pale Fire (lines 803-815)
If Goethe is correct that the longer an impression lasts, the weaker the organ, than I must have a very weak heart. In Pale Fire (particularly the Ginko Press edition I experienced— because it was more than something to be merely read) a persistent ache of a melancholy color bleeds and stains, and yet, and yet… there is a rising blush of “Faint hope.”
*Theory of Colours translated from the German with notes by Charles Lock Eastlake
**Title from opening stanza of Pale Fire –
I was the shadow of the waxwing slain
By the false azure in the windowpane
*** “Faint Hope.” final sentence of Pale Fire