I haven't read Nabokov's Pnin since college days; what a delightful book! About ninety percent of the story and tactics had been erased from my memory, so it was like reading a new, undiscovered Nabokov. So much magic packed into less than 150 pages!
One doesn't think of Nabokov as a New Yorker, but he did live in the city briefly, as this passage points out:
"He and I turned out to be, as he quipped, vos'midesyatniki (men of the Eighties), that is, we both happened to have lodgings for the night in the West Eighties . . . "
Possible project: I will track down VN's old address and snap a photo of it—and post that photo here!
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I've written a short review of a fun novel, James P. Othmer's The Futurist.