Morlocks, deep bathtubs, big faces, black holes.

(INTERVIEWER

Is there a particular picture of the world which you wish to develop? The past is very present for you, even in a novel of the “future,” such as Bend Sinister. Are you a “nostalgist”? In what time would you prefer to live?

NABOKOV

In the coming days of silent planes and graceful aircycles, and cloudless silvery skies, and a universal system of padded underground roads to which trucks shall be relegated like Morlocks. As to the past, I would not mind retrieving from various corners of space-time certain lost comforts, such as baggy trousers and long, deep bathtubs.)



In case you haven't read H.G. Wells' The Time Machine, as I, unfortunately, have not:
Morlocks are a fictional species created by H. G. Wells for his 1895 novel, The Time Machine. They dwell underground in the English countryside of 802,701 CE in a troglodyte civilization, maintaining ancient machines that they may or may not remember how to build. Their only access to the surface world is through a series of well structures that dot the countryside of future England.
Morlocks are humanoid creatures, said to have descended from humans, but by the 8,028th century have evolved into a completely different species, said to be better suited to their subterranean habitat. They are described as "ape-like", with no clothing, large eyes and gray fur covering their bodies. As a result of living underground, they have little or no melanin to protect their skin, and so have become extremely sensitive to light.
The Morlocks' main source of food is the Eloi, another race descended from humans that lives above ground. The Morlocks treat the Eloi as cattle, and the Eloi do not resist being captured.
Since their creation by Wells, the Morlocks have appeared in many other works such as sequels, movies, television shows, and works by other authors, many of which have deviated from the original description. (courtesy of The Free Dictionary)

Hmm. Ancient machines they may or may not remember how to build? I'm already distrustful of these melanin-starved Morlocks. Yes; keep them below ground, I say!

And, onto other matters, in case you've never chanced to experience the pleasures of a long, deep bathtub:

"Long(?), deep bathtub"

Hard to say whether or not Nabakov would have approved; I worry not necessarily for the style, but perhaps for the length.

"Dick, Fancy"

Would this man have enjoyed that tub? His face makes him seem short. I'm not saying short men are incapable of enjoying bathtubs. I'm thinking: if he's short enough, there'd be no reason for him not to enjoy this bathtub. Then again, I've no true notion of the dimensions of this tub. It could be huge. It could be twenty feet long. It could be full of gold, or tiny, pecking hens, or fresh-picked dill. It could be full with all the sweaty t-shirts that you've never gotten around to washing and so now they're stiff and stale and smell of mildew and rot. It could be full with Morlocks.

Back to the question at hand, though: would you agree? Tiny man, big face? Though, it's perhaps unfair to describe his face as "big." Yes, it fills up most of the borders of the photograph, but, then again, that's typically the point of portraiture. Or, not the point, per say, but an aim: to occlude other potential distraction in favor of one's giant head.

That's what the head-shot, taken my final brutish year of theatre conservatory, seems to be. My own face in this photograph has been described as "looking like it's poking through a black hole," by a woman who once, in the company of another friend, brought me to such a muscle-weakening fit of giggling--while climbing up the sets of stairs leading to her Chicago apartment (outfitted with Turkish rugs, cans of spent peanuts, and a ceiling that had half-crumbled to the floor in giant white flakes of drywall)--that the two were able to hold me down, strip me entirely of my clothing, rush inside the apartment and lock me out, naked, to roam the hallways until they got tired enough to relinquish hold of the doorknob.

"Perpetrator # 2"

"Perpetrator # 1"

I wonder why Nabakov spoke of baggy trousers as a part of the nostalgic past. I don't wonder why he wished to relegate trucks to the subterranean. I do wonder if maybe I'm wrong for questioning the whole "baggy-trousers-as-thing-of-the-past" situation. Maybe I'm the bonehead here for assuming they aren't a thing of the past. Who wears baggy trousers anymore, anyway? (Aside from maybe all of the people I've met in Colorado, who wear them regularly, because they are always about to go skiing, or at least it looks that way to me.)

Back soon with: more questions, more interpretations of nostalgia on which I have no claim, less words, more fun, fewer pictures, more revelations, greater effort, less weakness, reduction of pettiness, enlargement of purpose, thinning out of blame, thickening of spirit, better snow shoes, increased tolerance for cats who refuse to let me cradle them like newborns, less money, fewer syntactical difficulties, cleaner hair.

"Poking through black hole; still enjoys bathtubbing"

Passionately, primitively,

DF