Yesterday -- a gloomy, cold Monday morning -- I got the happiest surprise possible: Dimitri Nabokov has finally decided to publish his father's final, unfinished manuscript, "The Original of Laura."
Since I didn't start reading Nabokov's books until long after he'd died, I've missed the sweet anticipation of waiting for one of his books. Now -- thanks apparently to Vladimir appearing in his son's dream -- I get to enjoy the last book with the rest of the world...
...and we'll probably all think it sucks. But still!
No comments:
Post a Comment