The Metamorphosis of John Shade: From Unassuaged to Appeased By Way of Fountains and Mountains

A common thread that exists in many novels by Vladimir Nabokov intertwines the material being with a certain suspicion regarding the afterlife or existence of the otherworld. The imminent reign of mortality over the physical body has caused people to question the continuance of what is typically deemed the 'spirit.' This quest for understanding is as much about satisfaction as it is about suspicion, and the character John Shade in Pale Fire exemplifies this search. How is one satisfied with the explanations of religion? How is one satisfied with a state of unknowing? The poem Pale Fire written by the fictional John Shade is deeply personal and probes the concepts of God, mortality, and the afterlife. It is here, in the poem, where the thematic vein begins to weave in and out of the heroic couplets, that Shade's epiphany of art transforms the unsure to the satisfied.

I do not presume to create a time line of Shade's beliefs; however, the discovery of differing ideas about metaphysical themes brings the reader quite climatically to Shade's own revelation. In canto one, he writes about his disbelief of God. “My God died young. Theolatry I found // Degrading, and its premises, unsound” (36). However, he does not fall into an atheistic category of nonbelief. Shade goes on, “No free man needs a God; but was I free? // How fully I felt nature glued to me” (36). These lines suggest that his disbelief of his “old” God was changed from a belief to a feeling. This feeling allowed for the existence of a higher being through the logic that he was not free from a natural setting, or in other words, his mortal body. According to the previous line, if he was a free man then a God would not be necessary, but he quite promptly realizes he lacks this fundamental freedom.

The end of the first canto relays Shade's experience of some type of seizure wherein he was introduced to a mystical place. A place where the, “blackness was sublime. I felt distributed through space and time” (38). This metaphysical allocation only worked to increase his dissatisfaction with the nebulous nature of the afterlife, as the second canto begins with strong doubts. Shade wonders how anyone could live without knowing “what doom // Awaited consciousness beyond the tomb” (39). This lays the groundwork for John Shade's belief position. He seems to adhere to a form of agnosticism that does not deny an existence of a higher being, but he does not claim to know anything about that higher being. Shade yearns not for knowledge of God, but for satisfaction in the unknowable characteristics of a God and the otherworld.

It is interesting to note Vladimir Nabokov's own dislike for the loss of consciousness. In Speak, Memory he makes his position quite clear by writing, “...the wrench of parting with consciousness is unspeakably repulsive to me” (108). It is curious then how John Shade appears to share the same negativity towards the loss of conscious thought. The unease that is represented towards the unknown of the afterlife makes sense if the author is so utterly repulsed by the idea that it might resemble sleep in some form.

Canto three begins Shade's rigorous search for an understanding of the otherworld. He deals with the Institute of Preparation of the Hereafter which he finds to be absolute nonsense, but learns from them what to ignore in his “survey of death's abyss” (57). The relaying of his experience with IPH ends on a wholly depressing note by his concession that “... there would be nothing: no self-styled // Spirit would touch a keyboard of dry wood // to rap out her pet name; no phantom would // Rise gracefully to welcome you and me” (57). Shade goes on in Canto three to mention his heart attack where he is again transported to a different state of being where this time he has a vision. It is the great white fountain that seems to be an icon in his search for understanding. When this icon fails to match up (fountain, mountain) Shade finally has his epiphany.

This is the moment, the center of the poem, the body of the butterfly. Shade's gestalt is beautiful in its simplicity. He realizes not what he has been trying to understand about the existence of the otherworld, but instead that what is unknowable is tolerable. The point is not the content itself (text) but the feeling and tacit connections (texture) that bind all things. Shade imagines some sort of force from beyond, but instead of trying to understand it or picture it he writes “It did not matter who they were. No sound, // No furtive light came from their involute // abode” (63). Since there is no way to know what the higher force is that controls the great game of life, Shade instead focuses on the beauty of the interrelated, seemingly coincidental elements of it.

Canto four marks the beginning of Shade's delving into the material world. It starts out, “Now I shall spy on beauty as none has // Spied on it yet.” (64). He continues, focusing on detail, on the beauty and aesthetics of the physicality of the human condition. Resolution is found when he writes, “I feel I understand // Existence, or at least a minute part // Of my existence, only through my art” (69). This is the point of satisfaction. Shade has found the cure of the fear of unknowing. It is through art that Shade finds solace. It is through art that he is satisfied.

Nabokov, when lecturing on Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis, said “Beauty plus pity—that is the closest we can get to a definition of art” (Kafka Project). There is a distinct moment in Pale Fire where pity comes into play. Kinbote transcribes a conversation that he and Shade had regarding traditional religious views and the extent to which that information can be known. Shade, who is post-epiphany and satisfied with unknowing of metaphysical types of topics, operates off of feeling when asked by Kinbote about the existence of sin. Shade simply tells Kinbote that he can only think of two: “murder, and the deliberate infliction of pain” (225). Then, in a rare moment of forced staging, Kinbote asks, “And so the password is?” to which Shade replies: “pity” (225).

If art is the manner in which Shade finds hope, then pity must play a significant role in this fulfillment. Art is a remembrance of sorts as all beauty eventually dies. This is why pity must also be an element. With all art there is loss and with all life there is loss. It is in these realms that life and art operate: aesthetics and remembrance. Shade finds satisfaction in what he calls “his art” (69). The art of the poet is to observe the details, to notice the coincidences, and to portray elegantly these webs of existence. Pity then, implores the artist to not forget the imminence of mortality, but to understand its relationship to the beauty of life.

To exemplify these ideas, Nabokov juxtaposes Shade's satisfaction of the unknowable with the seemingly shallow faith of Kinbote's “Zemblan brand of Protestantism” (224). It is shallow only in the sense that he does not allow for the absence of a planning higher power, the belief is based off of text, not texture. Under Kinbote's belief, a God who manages souls and where they go in the afterlife is absolutely necessary for satisfaction to occur. Kinbote, in a sense, is a critique of modern religion and anything that bases metaphysical thought on matters of text as opposed to texture.

Going back to canto one, Shade describes how “we are most artistically caged” within nature (37). This is the same reason that he realizes he is not free, but held somehow by the natural world. Then he makes sweeping gestures towards time and timelessness, “Outstare the stars. Infinite foretime and // Infinite aftertime: above your head // They close like giant wings, and you are dead” (37). Shade then goes on to describe the carefree attitude of the “regular vulgarian” who only looks up at the Milky Way when they are relieving themselves outside. In ways this acts as a metaphor for Shade-like characters and Kinbote-like characters. It is easier for those who do not contemplate such high things, who look up in the sky only to admire the big picture then it is for those who must think deeply about such things and pick out all the telling details. Satisfaction comes to both, as in the case of Shade and Kinbote, but when doubt arises, a unacceptance of the unknowable makes it difficult to remain ignorant.

The impending abyss of death accentuates two elements of life: remembrance and aesthetics, loss and coincidence, beauty plus pity. This abyss is long and wide, and if one agrees that its characteristics are fundamentally unknowable, then when does satisfaction arrive? It is through art that the web of sense is found, and the inter-connectivity of life, in our caged physicality, is realized in the details. Beauty, pity, remembrance, aesthetics, the unknown, the abyss and sweet satisfaction.

Works Cited

Nabokov, Vladimir. Pale Fire. New York: Vintage, 1989. Print.

Nabokov, Vladimir. Speak, Memory. New York: Vintage, 1989. Print.

“Lecture on 'The Metamorphosis' by Vladimir Nabokov.” kafka.org. Mauro Nervi, 10 Nov. 2004. Web. 5 Dec. 2009.