Have I read this before: Nope. This is only my second Nabokov, which is surprising given how much I LOVE his writing style.

Review: I’ve always enjoyed books with an unconventional structure. This definitely has that. It starts with a four-canto poem by fictional poet John Shade, then is followed by a long commentary by his (fictional) neighbor and colleague, Charles Kinbote. He examines the poem nearly line-by-line, interjecting commentary in the form of three main stories: his personal interactions with and knowledge of Shade, a story about the deposed king of Zembla, and Gradus, an assassin from Zembla sent to kill the old king.

Favorite Part: Y’all know I like it when everything builds beautifully to a final point in a story. So few stories pull this off very well, in my opinion, but this one does it nicely. Also, because it’s Nabokov, I have to mention the way he explains how Kinbote took all the index cards on which Shade had written the lines of his poems and hid them on his person to keep them safe:

Some of my readers may laugh when they learn that I fussily removed it from my black valise to an empty steel box in my landlord’s study, and a few hours later took the manuscript out again, and for several days wore it, as it were, having distributed the ninety-two index cards about my person, twenty in the right-hand pocket of my coat, as many in the left-hand one, a batch of forty against my right nipple and the twelve precious ones with variants in my innermost left-breast pocket. I blessed my royal stars for having taught myself wife work, for I now sewed up all four pockets. Thus with cautious steps, among deceived enemies, I circulated, plated with poetry, armored with rhymes, stout with another man’s song, stiff with cardboard, bullet-proof at long last.

I LIKE THE WAY HE WRITES I’M SORRY.

Rating: 5/10