The Literary Inquisition

I'm doing it again; I already know far more about Nabokov than I should, when reading something by him for the first time. He seems an aesthete, not to the expressed point of Wilde, but with poignant ideas that define him quite clearly as one. He longed for Russia, and was fascinated by butterflies. But I have no need of that info, and I should not look for it. (Did I mention my needing his "Lolita"?)

I've decided, now, that one should not know anything about the author the first time one reads his works. It alters the experience significantly, and cannot be undone. Take Whitman's "To You", for instance, had I not known he was most likely gay, I would have interpreted the poem very differently - and did, before finding out.

My reading up on Nabokov (whose name's pronounciation I've no clue of, though it is not from lack of trying, - link, see second paragraph - perhaps mum has better insight ) lead me to reading about Synesthesia - neurological condition, most frequently in evidence as colour and words or numbers being linked: ie, coloured words. It's really rather sad that I'm not a synesthete - I only get boring lists of black words.

I survived the first period with a new English class, though the first step inside was utter hell. But hey, now I get to bicker with Vigdis every Tuesday, Friday and odd Wedensday. Fun, fun.

The Literary Inquisition

I'm doing it again; I already know far more about Nabokov than I should, when reading something by him for the first time. He seems an aesthete, not to the expressed point of Wilde, but with poignant ideas that define him quite clearly as one. He longed for Russia, and was fascinated by butterflies. But I have no need of that info, and I should not look for it. (Did I mention my needing his "Lolita"?)

I've decided, now, that one should not know anything about the author the first time one reads his works. It alters the experience significantly, and cannot be undone. Take Whitman's "To You", for instance, had I not known he was most likely gay, I would have interpreted the poem very differently - and did, before finding out.

My reading up on Nabokov (whose name's pronounciation I've no clue of, though it is not from lack of trying, - link, see second paragraph - perhaps mum has better insight ) lead me to reading about Synesthesia - neurological condition, most frequently in evidence as colour and words or numbers being linked: ie, coloured words. It's really rather sad that I'm not a synesthete - I only get boring lists of black words.

I survived the first period with a new English class, though the first step inside was utter hell. But hey, now I get to bicker with Vigdis every Tuesday, Friday and odd Wedensday. Fun, fun.