Saturday, August 2, 2008

Pnin by Vladimir Nabokov

My lordy this is entertaining, my lordy this is funny. But it's too much. Too much of the stylistic niceties makes for an unhealthy sugar rush and dyspepsia.

I felt the same thing about Lolita. After a while, one wants something to happen. Something, anything.

The flourish, though, sheer delight (there's no need to use copula when writing about Russian author (nor need for articles.))

No comments: