Sunday, January 24, 2010
I found this in the Pittsburgh airport, and couldn't resist it. It is, perhaps, the most Nabokovian of all the Nabokov I have read. It seems many authors find a need to explore the concept of twins, mirrors, and doubles -- for example, Poe's "William Wilson", or Twain's "Pudd'nhead Wilson" (Hey! those are both Wilson! wtf?) -- and this is Nabokov's take on it. Of course, his is completely different, and uniquely Nabokov. What always distinguishes Nabokov for me are how his characters live so much in their inner worlds, so far above everyone, so proud, and so fragile. And this is no exception. I read it quite quickly -- I just kept going back to it. It probably does not speak well of me that I relate so well to Nabokov's tales of obsession, pride, folly, and fall; but what can you do? I'm really surprised more people don't discuss this book. I wonder which of his novels I'll read next?