Biography of Nabokov
Biography of Nabokov
I have just finished reading the first volume of Brain Boyd’s magisterial (there is no other word) biography of Nabokov. At 500 pages it covers only his years in Russia and other European countries. I have never felt so steeped in the great man, and I have been seriously steeped. I now know the length and shape of his toenails. I wrote to Professor Boyd (who is writing a biography of Karl Popper) just to exchange thoughts with a fellow Nabokovian of genuine distinction. I sent him my little essays on Lolita, which appear on this blog. We had a lively correspondence. What struck me with particular force was the remarkable combination of facets that compose Nabokov’s person and personality: tall, slender, handsome, Russian, multi-lingual, a poet, a playwright, a novelist, a lepidopterist, a boxer, a chess player, a tennis player, and a goalkeeper. Many men in one man. Is there any unity to be found there? If there is, it is not easily discernible. The closest common factor I can see is the aesthete—but of a broad kind. I see it in the writing, obviously, but also in the chess, tennis, butterflies, and even in the boxing and goal-keeping. I can’t think of a good parallel in other Great Men, but I sense some of it in myself: I too combine the athletic with the writerly without sensing any schism. I also had a fascination with butterflies as a boy (and still do: I am rearing some caterpillars now); I even enjoyed the martial arts in my younger days, particularly wrestling. But back to Nabokov: his vision, his dedication, his arrogance (add inverted commas), his uncompromising attitude, his loves and hates, his genius, his uniqueness. He packed a lot into one man, one life. He never wrote about himself in his fictional works, but it is easy to see him as a Nabokovian character—half human, half mythical, smooth, brittle, heroic, touchy, tough, not afraid of a fight, dreamy. He is a kind of good Humbert Humbert. I’m looking forward to reading the second volume of his biography, dealing with his American incarnation and the unleashing of Lolita.
I happen to respect and like Nabokov too (but my favourite book of his is Pnin). His background as a child of a distinctive Russian aristocrat who spent a good chunk of time in Europe in exile and his ability to fluently speak, write and read many languages from an early age contributed to the unique and huge talent he was, especially his deep understanding of different cultures.
If you still have not done it, I suggest you look at his Lectures On Literature and Lectures On Russian Literature. His views on writers are as strong as yours on philosophers that you published the other day.
Here is a sample provided by an AI summary:
Writer Status Reason for Opinion
Tolstoy God-tier Perfect timing and “divine details.”
Joyce Genius For Ulysses only; a master of “the word.”
Gogol Brilliant For his “irrational” and “nightmarish” humour.
Dostoevsky Failure Too much “sentimentality” and “clumsy” plots.
Proust Master For his “layers of memory” and texture.
Cervantes Cruel Found Don Quixote “coarse” and “primitive.”
It was only Russian, English, and French, as far as I know; and he was insecure in English until quite late in life. But yes.
Yes, I’ve read both those books and nearly all his novels. I may have been stimulated to write that list by reading (again) about his literary opinions. I think Invitation to a Beheading is a neglected gem.
Invitation is a great book. Worth reading just for the notion of the hero being jailed and executed for the crime of “gnostic turpitude”.
He knew German and Latin as well but not as well as the other three languages. I think his insecurity in English reflects his high standards or outright perfectionism and not his level of mastery of the language. The book I couldn’t relate to is The Gift.
Beheading isn’t read as much as it should be–remarkably funny given the topic.
Boyd’s exhaustive biography doesn’t say he knew Latin, though he had some lessons as a child. As to German, it says that he refused to learn German while living in Berlin, because he thought it would mess up his Russian. He got much better with English as he aged. Gift is hard going.
Nabokov was an intellectual who lacked an interest in philosophy- he was more exuberant about the detail, “caress the details” he put it, he may have seen philosophy proper as a bit of a parlor game or distraction or waste of time- yet apparently some philosophers admire the man, and admirably so. Am I wrong and by much?
Well, you are only half wrong. Actually Nabokov had a real interest in philosophy, as in everything else–in particular, Bergson (see Boyd). I have read philosophy book reviews by him which show some knowledge of the subject. Boyd discusses his interest in consciousness and metaphysics. But you are right that he is admired by some philosophers.
That’s very interesting, for his style of thought is so different than philosophers, as I an outsider see it. He authored or had published two studies of fiction, based on his lecture notes. He is very careful with language though he does not sacrfiice dexterity or brilliance, but he distrusts abstraction and would probably not go or fall for any system.
Where would that place him, or where would you place him among extant philosophers?
He is more interested in life or the world than philosophy, though were he around today you could seduce him to your mysterian and other positions
Again, you are only half right. He was also a scientist interested in butterfly classification, as well as chess problems. He had no problem with abstraction. He actually says that consciousness is a mystery in one of his novels (I quote him on this). I myself have written two novels about people not theories. You can be both.