Duality of Existence: Imagination in Nabokov’s Invitation to a Beheading
Tyler Hicks
In the twentieth century, Russian literature continuously featured the acts of dreaming and imagination as a constructive force. Within major works by Lydia Chukovskaya (Sofia Petrovna), Lyudmila Ulitskaya (Sonechka), and Yury Olesha (Envy), imagination plays a key role. Imagination, and more broadly the metaphysical aspect of an individual trying to escape the monotony of everyday life, is juxtaposed with the corporal aspects of an arduous life in twentieth-century Russia—an intense and rapidly changing environment. As a result of this juxtaposition, the individual is able to internally reflect on their state of being, which in turn allows for a sacred acceptance of one’s true, eternal self. A fully developed example of this juxtaposition can be seen in Vladimir Nabokov’s Invitation to a Beheading, in which the protagonist, known simply as Cincinnatus C., is sentenced to execution because of a crime dubbed gnostical turpitude. This crime, which is completely artificial, is alluded to throughout the book as being the consequences to Cincinnatus’s “opaque” way of living. That is, Cincinnatus is sentenced to execution simply for being different from the average citizen. Nabokov paints Cincinnatus’s character as a lost soul—someone who is drowning in a mundane world—which only goes to strengthen the later usage of imagination and the metaphysical. Throughout Invitation to a Beheading, Nabokov crafts two different worlds: one of Cincinnatus’s prison and another of Cincinnatus’s writing and dreams, where another version of Cincinnatus lives, thereby contributing to this more specific theme of imagination in Russian literature.
From the start of the novel, Cincinnatus is clothed in an entirely different fabric from those surrounding him. He is described as completely alien to these other characters: “Cincinnatus was opaque...the teacher, in chagrined perplexity, would gather up all the reserves of skin around his eyes, gaze at him for a long while, and finally say: 'What is wrong with you, Cincinnatus?'” (Nabokov 24). When explicitly compared to those around him, Cincinnatus is described as having some sort of opacity or unrecognizability. This opacity is only exacerbated by the reactions that the people around him have towards his commonplace actions, such as writing and speaking, which is demonstrated through Nabokov’s precise word choice as he describes these reactions in painstaking detail. Phrases such as “chagrined perplexity” exemplify the sheer juxtaposition between Cincinnatus and his surroundings (24). This theme carries through the entire work, forming the basis of the personality traits that the reader can identify with Cincinnatus. However, the most striking difference between Cincinnatus and those around him is Cincinnatus’s ability to transcend reality and break into another realm—a realm of imaginative flourishes based upon his real life, but transcendental.
It is this realm of the transcendental rooted in Cincinnatus’ true spirituality that drives the plot, as well as creates a way in which the audience can fully empathize with Cincinnatus while reading the novel. These instances of transcending his physicality, which are sporadic and often relate to Cincinnatus’s writing in some sense, leave a bittersweet taste in the reader’s mouth as the reader learns more about Cincinnatus and his journey to transcendence. One of the first examples of Cincinnatus leaving his physical form through imagination occurs in the first chapter of the novel, where he imagines himself visiting his wife, Marthe (18-21). Although he does not physically leave his carefully crafted prison, Cincinnatus does something much more meaningful—he foregoes the limitations of space and time, existing within influential moments in his life. It is these moments of spiritual transcendence that really allow Cincinnatus to stay as sane and capable as possible (despite the numerous forms of psychological torture that his jailers commit upon him).
Likewise, imagination through writing is the only means that Cincinnatus has to develop a sense of individuality in his ever-changing yet mundane world. From a young age, Cincinnatus understood the reality of his existence, and more specifically the reality that he would never fit in or understand those around him. As mentally straining and trying as it would be, Cincinnatus tried his hardest to conceal these differences his entire life, but to no avail. Those around him continuously catch wind of his opacity in a world of violent transparency. Cincinnatus comes to terms with his unique state of being:
"I am not an ordinary—I am the one among you who is alive—Not only are my eyes different, and my hearing, and my sense of taste…I may have dreamt it—I found myself, under the sultry sun of midday, in a drowsy little town, so drowsy that when a man who had been dozing..." (52).
He continues in this internal monologue, reflecting on how his imagination has played a role in his acceptance of his divergent being. Through a metaphysical journey to a “drowsy little town,” Cincinnatus is able to once again escape the confines of his physical reality and transcend. Interestingly enough, the emphasis that Nabokov places on the act of dreaming and qualities that are typical to the act of dreaming such as “drowsy” and “dozing” connects the act of dreaming to Cincinnatus’ metaphysical imagination. It is through this connection to dreaming that the second segment of Nabokov’s commentary on the metaphysical begins: This spiritual endeavor functions as a way for Cincinnatus (and presumably us as the readers) to journey into another realm—where there are no physical or mental boundaries and self-agency is a universal truth.
Cincinnatus begins to take upon this spiritual autonomy, writing in his journal about how his emotions and feelings change surrounding his predicament. Although there are countless instances of this writing as a form of ethereal independence, Cincinnatus truly switches into this liberated individual when he writes that:
“I must think only of myself, of that force which urges me to express myself. I am cold, weakened, afraid, the back of my head blinks and cringes, and once again gazes with insane intensity, but, in spite of everything, I am chained to this table like a cup to a drinking fountain, and will not rise till I have said what I want” (95).
Imagination, and more precisely the act of writing in an imaginative and metaphysical style, begins to function as Cincinnatus’ purpose in living the life that he is forced into. He begins to associate individuality and his opacity with the desire to be alive and to connect with his inner self. This individuality is only exacerbated by the fact that everyone around Cincinnatus is of one state of being—transparent and unreal. Not only does Cincinnatus begin to form his own individual presence, but he begins to demand things from those around him.
Ironically enough, he is a prisoner demanding things from his jailers, which forms an instance of classic Nabokovian irony. These ironic commands, such as "will not rise till I have said what I want" (95), really begin to form the basis for Cincinnatus's character traits as an individual escaping the physical confines of his cell. However, these demands can only go so far, as they do not change the course of Cincinnatus's story. It is this inevitability of death that gives Cincinnatus an even stronger ability to utilize his imagination, as each day that passes he is increasingly presented with the inevitability of his execution. Quite possibly the most important instance of imagination utilized by Nabokov, and consequently by Cincinnatus, is at the climax of the novel. It is here where Monsieur Pierre (the only other prisoner that Cincinnatus is introduced to throughout the novel) is revealed to be Cincinnatus’ executioner. As Monsieur Pierre drags Cincinnatus to the executioner’s block and the axe swings down to end Cincinnatus’ life, Cincinnatus simply disregards his physical form:
“Everything was coming apart. Everything was falling. A spinning win was picking up and whirling: dust, rags, chips of painted wood, bits of gilded plaster...and amidst the dust, and the falling things, and the flapping scenery, Cincinnatus made his way in that direction where, to judge by the voices, stood beings akin to him” (223).
It is at this point where Cincinnatus finally embraces his fate—not simply accepting it. This embracing of his inevitable end, no matter how quick or slow it will come, is an incredibly powerful concept for Cincinnatus as he is finally able to find peace in life. Even though this ending constructed by Nabokov is quite vague and purposefully left up to the reader to interpret, one thing is clear: Cincinnatus lives eternally in some other realm. This new metaphysical state could be a reflection of Cincinnatus’ actions or the reader’s new-found knowledge of Cincinnatus and his story; however, the pivotal aspect to this ending of Cincinnatus’ story is the fact that he is able to transcend his physical body.
Imagination and dreaming form a duality within Vladimir Nabokov’s Invitation to a Beheading, which goes to serve a central purpose: to allow Cincinnatus to integrate and embrace his true self. Indeed, Nabokov’s tale of Cincinnatus and his execution is quite peculiar; however, there is a lot to learn from the way in which Nabokov structures said tale. Specifically, one learns of a way to reflect on how we perceive both our self-agency, as well as the means by which we choose to live our life. Although it might seem like the events in one’s life are simply out of our control, we too can burst through the inescapability of everyday life, transcend our corporal state, and become akin to Cincinnatus in this universally metaphysical realm. This might seem like an unthinkable endeavor; however. when you really consider what it means to transcend, or to go beyond the limits and range of something, this possibility for transcendence becomes much more obtainable. After all, this is one of the major factors that draw people into different types of art (literature included). This ability for us as humans to escape our everyday life through an artistic medium is not only a pivotal aspect to living a well-balanced life, but it is often something that people fall back onto in their hour of need, as we see with Cincinnatus within Invitation to a Beheading.
Bibliography
Nabokov, Vladimir. Invitation to a Beheading. Trans. Dmitri Nabokov. Vintage, 1989.