Chapter 15 Section five

At noon, Puning washed his hands and head as usual. He went back to the "Russian" office to get his overcoat, scarf, book and briefcase.Dr. Farternfuss was still writing and smiling; the bag of sandwiches he had brought was half-open;Pnin descended the shadowy stairs and walked through the Museum of Sculpture.The Department of Ornithology and the Department of Anthropology of the Humanities Building are also lurking inside, connected by a Rococo-style openwork corridor to another brick building - the Frieze Building, where the restaurant and the staff club are located: An incline, a straight turn, and a few more steps to the year-round smell of fried potatoes, and that awful balanced meal awaits.In summer, the trellis of the promenade is covered with vibrant and trembling flowers; now the bitter cold wind blows in from the bare trellis, and someone puts a picked red mitten on the frozen fountain mouth From there, the long corridor branched off, leading directly to the dean's office.

Dean Ball is a slow-moving old man, tall and wearing dark glasses. He had poor eyesight two or three years ago and is almost completely blind now.However, he was as regular as the rising and setting of the sun, and was escorted to Frieze House every day by his niece and secretary; Missing lunch.Though they had long been accustomed to his miserable appearance in this way, the dining-room was much quieter when he was led to his carved chair and fumbled with his hands over the edge of the table; On the wall just behind him is a handsome portrait of him, which makes people feel strange; the famous mural on the wall of the dining room was created by Lang in 1938 Historic figures and Wendell faculty, magnificent scene, Oleg Komarov of the Department of Fine Arts added a set of characters in the previous decade: Dean Ball in a double-breasted fuchsia gown with terracotta feet leather shoes, staring intently at the scrolls handed to him by Richard Wagner, Dostoevsky, and Confucius.

Pnin wanted to ask something of his countryman, and sat down beside him.This Komarov was the son of a Cossack, short, with a crew cut and two nostrils sunken in like a skull.His wife, Sarafima, was a big, jovial woman born in Moscow, who wore a long silver necklace with a Tibetan talisman hanging down her big soft belly , the couple often throw Russian-style evenings, with Russian snacks, guitar music and some more or less adulterated folk songs - some shy graduate students will be taught to drink vodka on such occasions and other old Russian etiquette; Whispered with awed self-gratitude: "Gospodi, skol' ko miim dayom! (My God, how much we taught them!)"—"they" meant the ignorant Americans.Only another Russian can understand the reactionary-pro-Soviet mishmash introduced by the pretendingly well-informed Kaomarovs.For the couple, an ideal Russia would include the Red Army, a formally enthroned monarch, collective farms, anthroposophy, the Russian Orthodox Church, and hydroelectric dams.Pnin and Oleg Komarov were constantly in a state of restrained combat, but the two inevitably saw each other frequently.Those American colleagues who regarded the Kaomarov couple as "important figures" and secretly imitated Pnin's ridiculous appearance were also regarded as painters and Pnin were very good friends.

Without a very special test, it is difficult to determine who speaks poor English between Pnin and Kaomarov. Maybe Pnin is worse, but in terms of age, comprehensive education, and the fact that he obtained American citizenship a little earlier, Pnin felt qualified to correct the English sentences that Komarov often inserted into his discourse.This annoyed Komarov even more than he hated Pnin's antikvarniy liberalizm. "Listen, Poslushayte, Komarov"—a very rude way of addressing someone—Pnin said, "I don't know who else here would want to read this book; Certainly not one of my pupils; if it were you, I don't see why you would use it."

"I don't need it," replied Komarov, glancing at the volume, "not interested," he added in English. Pnin moved his lips and chin silently once or twice to say something, but stopped and went on eating his salad.