Speak, Nabokov's Memory is a work that focuses as much on the process of gathering memories as it does on the memories that are recalled. Nabokov's patient and repetitive interrogation of his memories shows the comparison between narrative and memory in an iterative and mirrored moment that tends towards mimetic perfection. He challenges the limits of chronological time, describing time as his “magic carpet” (SM 139), whose rhythm he can control by folding and unfolding it to superimpose distant images printed on it. One of the purposes of Nabokov's fiction is to create a sense of timelessness by collapsing the past into the present. This in turn is representative of the doubling of the self, as Nabokov analyzes time, superimposing the perspective of his present self onto the experience of his past self. The formal shift of time is signaled by the interactions of light and shadow in his narrative, transposing form into content. In this essay I will argue that the diachrony of light and shadow in Nabokov's description of the passage expands into a synchrony of the two selves. This can be seen by looking at one of the final passages of chapter 8, where Nabokov describes a family gathering in a park. As the language in the passage shifts from evoking images of darkness, creating a space of darkness in which two selves can be detached from each other, to images of light representing reconnection, we see Nabokov's past and present self meet during the process of recovering this memory. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay The passage begins with a characterization of Nabokov as an outsider in his outlook, which creates a sense of detachment between his past and present self. He says: «Always approach that banquet table from the outside» (SM 171). In this sentence he uses spatial distance as an analogy for the alienation of the present self from the past, effected by time. He approaches the family from “the depths of the woods” (SM 171) rather than from the house. This phrase creates the feeling that Nabokov is coming from the darkness, away from others, towards the place where the gathering is taking place. Readers' attention is also drawn to the liminal space between the park and the house: the garden separating the two is described as a “smooth space” (SM 171). This evokes the image of the sands of time, that is, of the years that separate the author from the original gathering. This metaphor of separation is further represented by the allusion to the story of the prodigal son, which adds resonance to the passage. Nabokov says that “to return there [he] had to do so with the silent steps of a prodigal” (SM 171). The allusion suggests that Nabokov's metaphorical homecoming through revisiting his memories is not driven by nostalgia, but in the hope of achieving some kind of absolution. Thus, we see that the darkness is representative of a phase of detachment, but Nabokov's return to his memories is an attempt to reconnect his two selves, thus demonstrating the doubling of the self. Once Nabokov begins the process of memory recovery, we see a transition from language that evokes images of darkness to Nabokov's use of linguistic chiaroscuro to represent the interactions of light and shadow; this serves as a transition from the darkness Nabokov was in to the light he is moving towards. He describes the people present at the gathering as “shared in the animation of light and shadow” (SM 171). This can be paralleled with a sentence mentioned a few lines later in which he says: “Where my present guardian sits, there is a changing image, a succession of fades in and out”(SM 171). The changing image and alternating light and shadow represent a composition of various faces and shapes. A fade in reintroduces light, where a particular memory comes into focus, while a fade takes us back into the shadows, where the boundaries of memories are blurred. This means a tension between fragmentation and synthesis and dispersion and gathering of thoughts. During the process of gathering, it seems that many different moments and series of afternoon meetings merge into one inclusive and lasting scene. This fluidity in Nabokov's thoughts and memory-gathering process is further emphasized when he says: "The pulsation of my thought mixes with that of the shadows of the leaves and transforms Ordo into Max and Max into Lenski... and the whole series of trembling transformations repeats itself" (SM 171). The movement of the leaves creates patterns of light and shadow on the leaves, representing the simultaneity of memory as one memory transforms into another, but fast enough to allow it to create a single scene from many fragmented memories. Furthermore, the syntax also describes an interaction between past and present. The momentum of the syntax that pushes the reader forward is countered by the use of participles in the description, such as 'stirring' and 'trembling', which keep the scene in suspension. There is an interaction between the past and the present, as the past is described using the present tense. Therefore, the simultaneity of memory serves to bring the past back to life. In the last part of the passage, we see the end of the transition and the beginning of the "light" phase of the passage, which serves as a metaphor for the reconnection of the two selves. Towards the end of the passage, he brings the scene into focus when he says: “the contours finally adapt to their various tasks” (SM 171). Thus, the light and shadow that characterized the fluidity of Nabokov's thoughts in their journey between past and present are no longer fluid, but have finally stabilized. This creates the sense that Nabokov no longer simply observes the remembered scene, but actually and actively becomes a participant, validated by the point where he can hear: “Thirty human hearts drowning mine with their regular beats” (SM 171). If we look at the passage before we get to this sentence, we notice a sense of soundlessness, as Nabokov relies entirely on optical techniques in his attempt to recreate memory. This can be seen in the use of phrases such as “silent footsteps,” to describe how he approaches the banquet table from the woods, and “silent lips,” to describe the conversation the guests are having at the banquet table. However, after seeing the above-mentioned sentence, there is an explosion of sound images, as Nabokov says, “a torrent of sounds comes to life” (SM 171). It appears that initially Nabokov is simply painting a picture and using optical techniques to make it easier for readers to visualize the scene. However, by including sound, it now brings the image to life, adding an additional sensory dimension that better achieves the effect of lived experience. This marks his transition from observer to participant and also serves to dissolve the gap between past and present, rivaling life itself; the resulting image, now also enriched by the impact of sound rather than visual techniques alone, transcends the ever-changing kaleidoscope of time-bound memories; Nabokov sees them as the “consummation and resolution” of the temporal process, as something that has become “enduring in retrospect” (SM 170). Thus, we see that only after the reconnection of the two selves is the synesthetic impact enhanced, through the inclusion of sound - we see the importance of synesthesia on Nabokov's process of remembering, as it establishes the connection of his present self with his self past. . Therefore, the images that.