Foreward
These bubble charts were constructed by Isabel Milkovich (born October 7, 1989) during the last five days of her semester, at her university in Bozeman, Montana. The chart consists of a one-yard by one-yard square piece of white butcher paper, on each side of which is a separate bubble chart. The charts were originally drawn with graphite #2 pencil, and were then covered over by Rose Art® colored pencils. Unfortunately, the drafts could not be recovered, so we are left instead with merely the final work.
The first bubble chart consists of eighteen circles and thirty-four connecting lines. Within each circle is written a person, place, thing, or color that is related to Pale Fire (see my extensive notes to Pale Fire). The lines connect each of these ideas to what they are connected with through Pale Fire, and create an intricate web. I mean, these things are connected to one another, and the lines show these connections. There is a very loud end-of-semester party right next to my present lodgings.
The second bubble chart consists of two circles and one connecting line. Within each circle are the same eighteen ideas found in the first chart (see reverse side of butcher paper), but this time they are arranged into crosswords, one puzzle in each circle, mirroring each other. This shows that all eighteen ideas are really the same idea, and as such are all interconnected with each other. It also shows that everything is related to its inverse.
We possess in result a complete calendar of her work. Bubble Chart One was begun in the late hours of December 8 and completed on December 10. Bubble Chart Two was begun on the following day, and completed on December 12. This last chart is imperfect in its mirroring. Actually, it turns out to be beautifully accurate when you once make a plunge and compel yourself to open your eyes in the limpid depths under its confused surface. It contains not one gappy line, not one doubtful reading. This fact would be sufficient to show that the imputations made (on December 12, 2011) in an email from one of our professed professors—who affirmed without having graded the charts that they “consist of disjointed drafts none of which yields a definite text”—is a malicious invention on the part of those who would wish not so much to deplore the state in which a great student’s work was interrupted by a due date as to asperse the competence, and perhaps honesty, of its present editor and commentator.
Let me state that without my notes Milkovich’s charts simply have no human reality at all since the human reality of such charts as hers (being too skittish and reticent for an autobiographical work), with the omission of many pithy bubbles and lines carelessly rejected by her, has to depend entirely on the reality of its author and his surroundings, attachments and so forth, a reality that only my notes can provide. To this statement my dear student would probably not have subscribed, but, for better or worse, it is the commentator who has the last word.
Charles Kinbote
December 16, 2011, Bozeman, Montana
Commentary
Alder Tree
The alder tree seems to be the central theme of the bubble chart, with twelve connections to other things, and yet, it is off in the corner, like scraps for the dog, instead of in the center of the chart (see note to Zembla). With twelve connections, the alder tree is connected with more things than any other bubble on Milkovich’s chart. This does not mean it is central, though, as it is a side note to the story of the Erlking, and Zembla is, of course, in the center of the chart.
The alderwood is the home of the Elf King, and his palace hides somewhere in the forest. Zembla is my own home, and within it are the palace (not hidden) and the last known location of the crown jewels (hidden).
Green
Milkovich connects the color green with both the alder tree and the Elf King. These two connections may be addressed together, since they themselves are so similar to one another (see note to Elf King). One of the dyes extracted from the alder tree is green in color. This particular shade of green is associated with fairy clothing (those not familiar with elfish folklore might recognize the Green Man, the Green Giant, or the Green Knight as examples of people who are associated with the green dye) and therefore, of course, is associated with the Elf King.
I wonder if my friend Milkovich was not thinking at least a little of my colleague Gerald Emerald when she included this in her bubble chart. He really is a most disagreeable man. One might lump him in with the giants (not the Green Giant, of course) rather than a noble Elf King. I am sure Milkovich has not had the unfortunate displeasure of meeting Emerald, though I cannot say for sure.
I know that Milkovich must be loyal to the Zemblan crown, because of this bubble. Only someone with true sympathy for Zembla in his heart would think to include the great nation’s late king. His connection to the alder tree is an interesting one, I must say, and is not entirely direct. There is an old legend from a distant northern land (similar to my Zembla!) about the daughter of the Elf King, who lived in a forest of alder trees and would lure travelers to her. The story was translated into German as ‘Der Erlkonig Dachter,’ which means ‘The Erlking’s Daughter.’ A German poet then decided to write a poem about the legend, and called it “Der Erlkonig,” or, “The Erlking.” It was later translated into English as “The Elf King.” How the mistranslations do warp our minds! The story went from being about an elf king to an erlking, back to an elf king. Had the German translator gotten the story right, and kept it about an elf king, the poem would have been titled “Der Elfenkonig,” which can mean either ‘The Elf King’ or ‘The King Alfin.’ So, the story that is titled with my dear late king’s name takes place in an alderwood, and Milkovich has made that connection.
This almost humorous reversal of translations reminds me of a letter my Zemblan wife once wrote to me, in which she said, “I want you to know that no matter how much you hurt me, you cannot hurt my love.” What she had attempted to write in English was then translated into Zemblan by a man who was a native speaker of neither Zemblan nor English. When his translation was retranslated back into English, it ended up being, “I desire you and love when you flog me.” How the mistranslations do warp our minds!
I wonder that Milkovich did not think to connect myself with my own former king, since we have a more important relationship than that of mere subject-to-king. At one point I had thought of sharing this secret of mine with my dear Isabel, but I thought better of it at the last minute. After all, I was much closer with John Shade before his death, and I did not even tell him! (Though he did guess it on his own and was kind enough to include bits of my story in his final poem.)
Chess
This has always been a favorite game of mine. I do love the king, with its tall, regal stature. It hasn’t much power to move as it chooses, but such is the life of a king. Funnily enough, the bubble chart does not connect Chess with myself, even though it is a hobby of mine. Milkovich has chosen to connect Chess with the late king of Zembla, Alfin. In doing this, she can only be going back to the origins of chess to find this connection.
Shatranj is an old form of chess that originally came from India. Both this original shatranj and what we know today as chess are games of royalty, so naturally Milkovich would make this connection to a deceased king. The names of the pieces are Persian, with some Arabic influence. What we know today as the bishop was called ‘pil’ (Persian for ‘elephant’). The Arabic word ‘al’ means ‘the,’ and it was sometimes attached as a prefix, with the p changing to f—‘alfil.’ Europeans altered this name slightly to ‘alfin,’ the king’s name. It has always been a bittersweet thing for me that our king’s name really meant ‘the bishop.’ It is right that my country should be led by such a holy, God-fearing man, and yet, it would have been more fitting for the king’s name to mean ‘the king.’ I must constantly remind myself that kings do not live in a world perfectly to their liking.
Elf King
The Elf King is that murderous character in “Der Erlkonig” (see note to Der Erlkonig). He promises to take the dying child to his kingdom, where his daughters will spoil him and treat him as royalty. I had such people treat me thus once, but never again shall I be in the company of Fleur de Filer, that young maiden who stayed in my chamber and did as I pleased. The Elf King’s supposed kingdom is in a forest of alder trees. I am not one to take such fairy tales as truth, though this story does hold a literary value of its own. The Elf King’s kingdom might not be real, but the palace in Zembla is, well do I know!
Der Erlkonig
“Der Erlkonig” is a poem written by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. It tells the story of a father and child riding through the elf-haunted alderwood. The boy becomes sick and begins hallucinating, while the father insists that what his child sees is no more than the surrounding trees and the wind blowing through their boughs. The child eventually dies in the forest of alder trees, despite his father’s assurances that no harm will come to him. My own father never made such promises to me, and a good thing too because my life has been endangered several times in the past and I do not wish to tarnish my late father’s good name.
Zembla
What a wonderful thing to find my Zembla in the middle of the chart! Everything else surrounds it, and when one turns the entire chart clockwise—as my dear friend Milkovich would have wanted—the other bubbles revolve around it. One might also turn the chart counterclockwise, but not to the same effect. Clockwise motion is always more peaceful to eye, as we say in Zembla. It is connected to the great King Alfin, as it should be, and to myself. We are both Zemblans of our own sorts, he with his games (see note to Chess) and me with my academics.
As a professor from Wordsmith University, I know much about academics. My job description was limited only to Russian literature, but I have quite a bit of experience with American poetry, as well. The Americans might say, “This isn’t my first rodeo,” but I say, “This isn’t my first commentary.” My first commentary was on the heroic poem “Pale Fire,” by my other dear friend John Shade. His wife Sybil never approved our friendship, of course, but in time she grew to like me—I am somewhat of a charming man, if I may modestly say so, though Sybil would never be my type.
Red
Red is the second color of dye derived from the alder tree (see note to Green). In folklore, the red dye from the alder tree was used to paint the faces of the sacred kings. Milkovich also connects the color red with my late friend’s daughter, Hazel, who passed away before I came into the acquaintance of the Shades. Although John and Sybil never told me much about their daughter—and I didn’t press them for details—I did come to the conclusion, after reading “Pale Fire,” that Hazel supposedly saw a red neon sign reflected in a puddle on the night she died. I am not sure why Milkovich felt it important to point out this connection. After all, I made no note of it in my own commentary to “Pale Fire.” I have always thought that some people let themselves get a little too carried away with their imaginations.
Gradus
Oh, how I wish there was no such person! He has haunted me, both by night and by day. When I sleep, I dream of his ever-forward motion toward me; when I am awake, I see his approaching movements at every moment of the day. There is no peace! My dear Milkovich has still not yet made the connection between my self and my desparate position (pun intended). But I must be grateful. Gradus approached me through John Shade’s poem, but he cannot approach me through Isabel Milkovich’s bubble chart, for he has no connection to me their.
Gradus brings about death in his own way (see note to Elder Wand). As he rode through Shade’s “Pale Fire,” he rides through “Der Erlkonig.” He is the Elf King, bringing death to those who enter his domain (namely me, since it is I whom he has sworn to kill). He uses his own form of alder tree to fetch me from this town, this country, this world, as the Elf King uses his alderwood to lure people from their own familiar town, country, world.
And yet, Gradus and I are not so different after all. We both travel along a path (determined by others, of course, for I never meant to leave Zembla, and he follows the command of the Extremists). We both long for the final destination, though neither of us knows when we will reach it. One thing we both know is that death waits at the end of the path—he will kill someone else, and I am sure to be killed when this great charade is over and done for. We are both like the father in “Der Erlkonig;” we travel along a set path, unsure of when we will arrive and whether we will arrive in time, and death inevitably awaits us at our destination.
Hazel Shade
In many ways, Hazel and I are the same person.
John rarely spoke of his daughter Hazel, and I never pressed him for details about her. What little information I have of the young woman’s life and death I gleaned from John’s former secretary, who, after some affairs that were not my fault, wishes to remain anonymous. (Apparently some things were published about her relationship with Hazel that she wishes had not been made public.) Hazel is, in a way, the child in “Der Erlkonig,” who dies at the hands of the Elf King in the alderwood. Although her father tried desperately to protect her, he could not. (See note to Resurrection Stone.)
Child
The father and the child ride through the night and the wind. They ride through the alderwood in the night and the wind. This bit about the alderwood is always left out of translations of “Der Erlkonig” for some poor reason—even translations into Zemblan! But I do not forget that it is through the alderwood that the father carries the child, and that it is the Elf King who takes the child from his father. Separation of father and child is so horrible! (See note to John Shade.)
Elder Wand
The Elder Wand is a magical, fictional object from a children’s story (see note to The Tale of the Three Brothers). According to the story, it is the most powerful wand in the magical world. Death fashions the wand from a nearby elder tree, and thus the connection between the Elder Wand bubble and the Alder Tree bubble.
In the tale, the brother who requests the Elder Wand uses it to kill one of his enemies. This is remarkably similar to how the Elf King uses the alderwood as a place to hide and take humans away to his elfin kingdom. Jakob Gradus is one who would truly benefit from an Elder Wand, although I would hardly like it if he did have one. Gradus had been a constant threat of death up until his recent imprisonment. Now there is another, greater Gradus out there that I must hide from. I must keep reciting my mantra (see note to Cloak of Invisibility) to hide from him and his Elder Wand of death.
Cloak of Invisibility
The Cloak of Invisibility is from the same children’s story that the Elder Wand comes from. A person puts it on to hide from other people, specifically Death. Milkovich included this in her bubble chart because it has strong ties to both the alder tree and myself. The alder tree, in Celtic folklore, is known as a place of hiding. It is said to conceal the doorway into the fairy realm, and many stories in folklore have someone hiding in an alderwood forest (see note to Der Erlkonig). The Cloak, like the alder, is meant to hide a person.
When I was leaving Zembla, I had my own sort of Cloak of Invisibility to keep me safe. My Cloak was my mantra, the first two lines of Der Erlkonig—“Who rides so late in the night and the wind? It is the father with his child.” I repeated these lines as I left Zembla, made my way across Europe, and eventually ended in New Wye. I rode late in the night and wind, seeking safety away from my enemies. I have been fortunate enough so far to come to no harm, although the same cannot be said for my dear old friend John Shade, or his daughter Hazel. Unfortunately, neither of them had any sort of Cloak of Invisibility, and so both died as the two older brothers died, unwillingly going to meet Death before they had lived full lives.
The Tale of the Three Brothers
This children’s story itself has nothing to do with Pale Fire or Der Erlkonig, but some of the things in the story do, so Milkovich felt the need to include a bubble for it. And so I also feel the need to include a note about it. The tale is not known to many academics since it is merely a children’s story (my own childhood was filled with real adventures through secret passages, not stories from books), so I will explain the plot for those who are not familiar with it.
After three brothers build a bridge to cross a river, Death comes to them angry because he was sure he would be able to take three more lives. Nevertheless, he decides to trick the brothers by granting each a gift, and taking their lives later. The oldest brother tries to taunt Death by asking for the most powerful wand in the world. Death makes the wand from the wood of a nearby elder (or alder) tree. This brother then uses the wand to bring death to others. People learn of the wand’s power from the brother’s bragging, and someone kills the brother in his sleep and takes the wand, so Death takes the oldest brother. (See note to Elder Wand.)
The second brother wants to taunt Death even further by asking for the power to bring back people from the dead, so Death picks up a stone and instructs the brother to turn it in his hand and he will be able to bring back whomever he chooses from the dead. He brings back his late fiancé, but she is more a ghost than a real person. He lives in despair with his ghost-like betrothed. He hangs himself, and Death takes the second brother. (See note to Resurrection Stone.)
The third brother is neither arrogant nor believes himself invincible, so he wants to become invisible to Death. Death gives the brother his Cloak of Invisibility, and the third brother evades Death until he is old and ready to die. He takes off the cloak at the end of his long life, and gladly enters into the company of Death. (See note to Cloak of Invisibility.)
Resurrection Stone
The Resurrection Stone is yet another mystical, Magical object Milkovich chose to include in her Bubble Chart. Had I known she was going to put such nonsense into a great piece of work, I would have deterred her from it as once! As such, the past cannot be changed (as I well know!), so I must explain why my dear friend placed such a thing in her chart.
This really is a tip of the hat to John Shade, even if it is in a morbid way. The Resurrection Stone, with its capabilities of bringing back the dead, would have appealed greatly to Shade, had he had such an inexplicable interest in children’s stories. Ever since his daughter Hazel died, he was overcome by grief and guilt at not being able to save his only child. His possession of a Resurrection Stone would have rectified his own inability to protect his daughter.
Since Shade did not have a Resurrection Stone at his disposable (impossible as they are to acquire), he used his poem “Pale Fire” to bring Hazel back to life. In the same way that Gradus comes to life through the poem, in a way Hazel comes back to life because Shade writes quite a bit about her and brings her back to life as a character. Yet this second life through the poem was not quite enough for my dear friend John, and I do suspect at times that he died in despair as the second brother in the tale died.
Just as Shade tried and failed to bring Hazel back to life, the father in “Der Erlkonig” tried and failed to rescue his son from certain death. He was not able to deliver his son to his house in time to save him, just as Shade was not able to protect his daughter.
John Shade
I have regaled Milkovich many times of my close friendship with the poet John Shade. Although I met him only months before his untimely death, it was one of those rare friendships that form overnight and are closer than the friendships formed between people over the course of many years.
Shade, of course, is the father spoken of in “Der Erlkonig.” He makes a valiant attempt to resurrect, if not save, his Hazel from death (see note to Resurrection Stone). What Milkovich does not include in her Bubble Chart is John’s connection to Hazel. They are closely related, after all—father and child. Perhaps my friend wishes, in her own way, to relate John’s child with King Alfin’s child. Neither set of father and child is connected on the chart, though both are clear as the air. Alas, the father’s loss of his child (or the child’s loss of his father, for that matter) is not something that is openly spoken of; people tend to avoid the subject altogether if they are able to, for it is a devastating loss.
Father
I am my own father who rides so late in the night and the wind. I do my best to save my own self from harm and death, by reciting my mantra. Who rides so late in the night and wind? It is the father with his child. I am my own father. I deliver myself to safety by hiding from the great and many Graduses in the world who wish me dead. For now, I am safe from the Elf King, but unfortunately the future is not yet revealed to me.
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