Tuesday, October 16, 2007
just a thought
This is Vladimir Nabokov's actual typewriter.
He also collected butterflies, and these are his own authentic specimens, displayed in his own house, which is still inhabited by Nabokovs upstairs. I found myself there, having taken a wrong turn.
What meaning have these literary artefacts ?
I could only venerate them as objects in their own right, they seem not to add to my reading of any of his novels.