#speak memory

[letojessica]

love is the fabric of the universe.

vladmir nabokov in a 1926 letter to his wife véra // la traviata, giuseppe verdi // the antennae galaxies in the midst of colliding, x // speak, memory, vladimir nabokov // heart and soul nebulae, x // interstellar (2014), dir. christopher nolan // divan i shams, rumi

[doloresdisparue]

vladimir nabokov - lolita / ada or ardor / speak, memory: an autobiography revisited

[outstanding-quotes]

I discovered in nature the nonutilitarian delights that I sought in art.

Vladimir Nabokov, Speak, Memory

[haveyoureadthisbook-poll]

[fangednominals]

“From my place at table I would suddenly see through one of the west windows a marvelous case of levitation. There, for an instant, the figure of my father in his windrippled white summer suit would be displayed, gloriously sprawling in midair, his limbs in a curiously casual attitude, his handsome, imperturbable features turned to the sky. Thrice, to the mighty heave-ho of his invisible tossers, he would fly up in this fashion, and the second time he would go higher than the first and then there he would be, on his last and loftiest flight, reclining, as if for good, against the cobalt blue of the summer noon, like one of those paradisiac personages who comfortably soar, with such a wealth of folds in their garments, on the vaulted ceiling of a church while below, one by one, the wax tapers in mortal hands light up to make a swarm of minute flames in the mist of incense, and the priest chants of eternal repose, and funeral lilies conceal the face of whoever lies there, among the swimming lights, in the open coffin”

Vladimir Nabokov, "Speak Memory", recalling a childhood memory of his late father being subjected to a peasants' ritual

[gravity-rainbow]

In probing my childhood … I see the awakening of consciousness as a series of spaced flashes, with the intervals between them gradually diminishing until bright blocks of perception are formed, affording memory a slippery hold. Nabokov from Speak, Memory

[thevividgreenmoss]

Vladimir Nabokov, Speak, Memory: An Autobiography Revisited

[archersea]

nabokov in speak, memory.

[razorsadness]

Danny Norbury - “Speak, Memory”

[manuscriptsdontburn6]

From my place at table I would suddenly see through one of the west windows a marvelous case of levitation. There, for an instant, the figure of my father in his wind-rippled white summer suit would be displayed, gloriously sprawling in midair, his limbs in a curiously casual attitude, his handsome, imperturbable features turned to the sky. Thrice, to the mighty heave-ho of his invisible tossers, he would fly up in this fashion, and the second time he would go higher than the first and then there he would be, on his last and loftiest flight, reclining, as if for good, against the cobalt blue of the summer noon, like one of those paradisiac personages who comfortably soar, with such a wealth of folds in their garments, on the vaulted ceiling of a church while below, one by one, the wax tapers in mortal hands light up to make a swarm of minute flames in the mist of incense, and the priest chants of eternal repose, and funeral lilies conceal the face of whoever lies there, among the swimming lights, in the open coffin.

Vladimir Nabokov. Speak, Memory. 1947.

[solidwater05]

Apparently this needs to be said so

Forgetting things is morally neutral! Memory issues are morally neutral!

You're not a bad person if you...

forget things quickly

forget people

can't remember entire stages of your life

can't remember important things

can remember some things very well and forget other things all the time

can't remember things (or anything!) about your interests

forget to eat, sleep, go to the bathroom, etc

forget to reply to texts

remember things and immediately forget them again

can't remember birthdays, events, etc

frequently answer 'I forgot' to questions

can't retain new information

forget things you used to know

only remember things when it's too late

have vague, distorted and/or unreliable memories

depend on others to know how an event you were in played out

have other symptoms that are worsened by memory issues and vice versa

... and anything else I might have missed!

[egoschwank]

al things considered — when i post my masterpiece #1258

first posted in facebook january 21, 2024

raqib shaw -- "the retrospective" (ca. 2022)

"normally, you should be dead if you have a retrospective" … daphne guinness

"i really don’t give a fuck about the so-called contemporary art world" … raqib shaw

"the act of vividly recalling a patch of the past is something that i seem to have been performing with the utmost zest all my life, and i have reason to believe that this almost pathological keenness of the retrospective faculty is a hereditary trait" … vladimir nabokov

"i don't really give a fuck what she thinks about contemporary social media … she promised that she’d be right there with me … when i post my masterpiece" … al janik

[little-eye-guy]

"this is too raw of a line to come from—" shut up. beauty and meaning is everywhere

[outstanding-quotes]

The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.

Vladimir Nabokov, Speak, Memory

[speakertoyesterday]

I'm sick with a cold and it has done a number on my memory: forgetting what food I have for what, making me think i should do groceries when I don't have to, and generally not working well.

[breesperez139]

Dc x Dp Prompt #6

“I’m a twin”, Damian said one night. He could feel the narrowed eyes of his family drilling holes on his back in disbelief. Not that he could blame them. Damian had never so much as implied being raised with a companion, much less a sibling.

“I had a brother”. Damian paused to recollect himself. He had not said his brother’s name out loud in over 8 years.

“His name was… Danyal”. Damian hated the way his voice wavered, but he could not help it. Danyal was everything to him, his other half. Their heart beat as one and when one heart stopped beating, the other one died with it. At least until his family put his heart on metaphorical life support without ever realizing.

“Where is he now?” His father asked, voice filled with knowing grief and a hint of betrayal. It had in fact been 6 years since Damian first showed up on his doorstep.

“Up there”. All eyes shifted towards the specific star he was pointing to. “Right before he died, he promised me he’d guide me from the stars. Unfortunately, the stars are not visible in Gotham, so my brother is unable to be of much help unless I leave the city.”

“Your brother is Polaris, the North Star?” Tim questioned warily, most likely in attempts to not offend him. Damian was aware of how stupid it sounded, but Danyal had promised, and his brother never broke his promises.

“Yes. Danyal is with the stars now, just as he always wanted”