When I embark on the plan to review certain books, I often find myself succumbing to the common lament of many in freshman composition: I simply don't know where to begin. And here I am, facing that very conundrum. Despite having mental "notes" and pages marked (you can either praise or laugh at my efforts, but yes, I actually semi-consciously plan my Goodreads review as I'm reading. Nerd alert!), it is incredibly challenging to summarize my thoughts on a 600-page book, especially when my opinion undergoes such significant changes throughout the reading process. Consider this:

Reading Progress:

06/13

page 535 89.0% \\t"meh"

06/09

page 360 60.0% \\t"Losing some steam."

06/04

page 275 46.0% \\t"Adoration waning a smidge."

05/25

page 110 18.0% \\t"Adoring it."

05/22

page 10 2.0% \\t"Holy hell, thank god for the prefatory family tree!!"

So, by page 10, I was completely entranced. In fact, I was already captivated even before I began reading this book. I went into it with the anticipation that this was one of Nabokov's masterpieces, the last remaining one for me to read. By page 10, fully in "Nabokov-mode," I was thoroughly enjoying what I was reading. Like all of VN's works, this promised to be a great puzzle, but even more so like one of those 3D puzzles due to its depth and various interconnectivities. However, less than halfway through, the puzzle seemed complete, and all that remained were petite parlor tricks—such as an excessive love for alliteration and other obvious witty word play.

For example: - “…adored Van, adored Ada, adored Ardis’s ardors and arbors” (409).
\\t“prop up a popylon…Ruinen…ryuen”…ruin…Venus revenues…Velvet Veen” (350).
\\t“Eros the rose and the sore…except as an embered embryo” (367).
\\tJust tons of echoes and reverberation of proper names (place and people): page 465 has four “Alphonse”s.

This, I believe, is the first time I've felt that Nabokov was sacrificing content for superficial style. (Yes, I like alliteration as much as the next person—probably more—but it's not sufficient to carry an entire book.) It felt pretentious, and the inclusion of Russian and French phrasings and endnotes by Vivian Darkbloom didn't help. Yes, there were numerous and subtle allusions to all sorts of superb stylists that I would have or did miss most; still, relegating them to an appendix seemed especially sanctimonious. In short, this is the first time I was put off by, rather than awed by, Nabokov's pretentious posturing.

Then there's the fact that this is the most revolting Nabokov book I've read. Lolita is indeed disturbing, but how can one not be intrigued by Humbert? The psychological depth within him is incredible, and he's just an outstanding character. Van Veen, on the other hand, is simply hot-headed and horny, with a fixation on his sister(s). This tale purports to be a love story, but I could never (ever!) overlook the fact that Van and Ada are cousin/siblings. So, after reading something like “They sat, facing each other, at a breakfast table…two cheerful cousins, ‘raiding the icebox’ as children in old fairy tales, and the thrushes were sweetly whistling in the bright-green garden as the dark shadows drew in their claws” (191), all I could think was “yes, all those old fairy tales where the brother and sister spend every waking moment having sex with one another.” Oops, was I a bit too vulgar? Perhaps I should have used more flowery language to disguise my revolting description. Something like:

-“…commanded Van, and for a few synchronized heartbeats, fitted his working mouth to the hot, humid, perilous hollow” (415).

-“…down to the firebird seen by Van once, fully fledged now, and as fascinating in its own way as his favorite’s blue raven” (418). (Note: one sister is a redhead; the other has black hair.)

Nabokov might use beautiful prose to avoid crass colloquialisms, but this is, quite simply, lewd and lascivious. Even more so than Lolita. Oh, this book has pedophilia. It also has incest between partners under the age of 15, incest between sisters, and triple ménage-a-trois-cest. (Side note: One clever wordplay that did make me chuckle was Van's noting that Lucette was “keener than that of her ‘vaginal’ sister” (486). Now that's a loaded word!) When one young teen and another pre-teen tie their (yes, “their”) nine-year-old sister to a tree so that they can go enjoy their passions in the arbors, I'm just not getting that loving feeling. When the sisters decide to adore each other, I'm just not feeling the romance. When a whole chapter is dedicated to the history and management of some elaborate whore houses, my heart isn't exactly skipping a beat. And somehow our supposed authors decide that “Van’s sexual dreams are too embarrassing to describe in a family chronicle that the very young may perhaps read after a very old man’s death” (361). Yeah, that's too embarrassing.

Finally, by the time part IV started, I was already resigned to a "meh" feeling, so I really wasn't interested in reading Van's thesis on the nature of time and space. Normally, Nabokov's metaphysics fascinate me, but this chapter is completely unnecessary and out of place. Of course, now I'm going to go re-read the appropriate part of this to learn what I missed, why this book is considered a work of genius, and why I'm an idiot.

Line that made me chuckle but that I think also somewhat exemplifies my style over substance claim: “He shaved, disposed of two bloody-stained safety blades by leaving them in the massive bronze ashtray, had a structurally perfect stool, took a quick bath, dressed, left his bag with the concierge, paid his bill and…[it goes on]” (309-10).

Full of Lust 'n... Genetic Combustion

This novel, constructed with remarkable brilliance and complexity, features perhaps Nabokov's most resplendent and gorgeous writing. Spanning from 1884 to 1967, it delves into heady themes such as the texture of time.

Surprisingly, this presented an even greater challenge to my moral prejudices than Lolita. Maybe it's due to the way the topic of incest is approached.

In 1884, the deadpan Van is 14 and the precious little Ada is 12. Believing themselves to be first cousins, at this tender age, Van introduces Ada to forbidden pleasures, and they embark on an all-consuming sexual affair. Ada is just as much an instigator as Van. The description "all-consuming" is no exaggeration. Ada is so obsessed that she insists on introducing her younger sister to this taboo ecstasy.

Some time later, Ada and Van discover that they are actually brother and sister. The explanation of how they are siblings yet didn't know is too complex to detail, except to say it's a messy situation. They are separated by mutual consent and a promise from the son to the father, only to reunite time and again, especially after their father's death.

In essence, this novel is a romance: morally prohibited, erotic, and rife with danger, not the least of which is the possibility of a genetically combustible impregnation.

2.5. The most difficult novel I’ve ever attempted to read. It feels like an overly long riddle that I couldn't solve. As one of Nabokov's last works, it seems he's just playing games, flaunting his extensive knowledge and linguistic skills. The extremely thin story serves as a random backdrop for this. Filled with puns, anagrams, wordplay, obscure references, neologisms, confusing otherworldly elements, misplaced metaphysical musings, and foreign words (sometimes whole paragraphs) from at least five different languages, the book is clearly written for a more erudite and linguistically sophisticated reader than me (and perhaps most of all for Nabokov himself).

The story is about an incestuous romance, but the intrigue fades quickly. The romance isn't engaging. Both main characters are precocious, arrogant, pretentious, unsympathetic, and extremely sexually predatory, especially towards their younger sister. I didn't root for them or share their passion.

The love story is recalled and retold in old age, with painstaking and unrealistic detail, emphasizing banalities like what they're wearing and eating. This, along with the contrived dialogue, creates a huge artificiality and emotional distance between the reader and the characters. And that's when you're not busy looking up words in a thesaurus or consulting the annotations on the website dedicated to understanding this absurdly difficult book.

This is also an obnoxiously aristocratic upper-class novel. The whole book takes place in a bubble of wealth, leisure, and privilege, with the characters having no sense of responsibility or concern for society. Van becomes a psychology professor masquerading as a philosopher, but he has no interest in helping patients. He turns psychology into a vanity project by writing descriptive case studies on odd but benign psychiatric conditions or self-indulgent treatises on time.

In part five, he often repeats that time is intangible and an evasive concept. It's all very profound, but these aren't remarkable insights that deserve 30 pages near the end when the average reader just wants it to end.

Predictably, the book has a lot of pedophilia and hebephilia. Nabokov spends 10 pages detailing a chain of brothels that recruits 11-year-old children to service "subscribing members" up to 50 years old. The dehumanizing descriptions seem written for shock value or to evoke a sadistic sense of amusement.

Demon, Van's father, is an unapologetic pedophile. He's never admonished. Van only makes a disparaging joke about it. Despite his depravity and absence as a father, everyone loves him blindly.

On the other hand, Marina, the mother, is constantly belittled for her less serious faults. The excessive ridicule of her beauty deterioration is ageist and misogynistic.

Van is also a beast, a sexual predator, and a violently jealous and possessive lover. He spends a lot of the book trying to track down Ada's former lovers to murder them. No one cares. All sexual and violent transgressions are not only forgiven but not even considered problems. Is there no legal system on "Demonia"?

Overall, this is a profoundly amoral book, with incest being the least of its vices. I could write an essay about their coldhearted sexual exploitation of Lucette.

Perhaps this is a "masterpiece" to some readers, but a lot of it went over my head with its many indecipherable layers of irony and foreign words. I'll admit that when I did understand, I found the book slightly funny. But a few good jokes don't make a good book.

I guess I only have myself to blame. My reasons for reading were not noble: narcissistic satisfaction and curiosity about the handling of incest in literary fiction. Too bad their relationship reads like an extended act of physical and intellectual masturbation. I believe romance always has a hint of narcissism, but even more so when the lovers are siblings who are physically and intellectually similar.

The book is unique. And thank goodness for that.

**"Anta or Pathos" by Vladimir Nabokov: A Literary Exploration**

Vladimir Nabokov's "Anta or Pathos" is a complex and captivating work that challenges the reader's perception of pathos. Published by Book Press, this book presents a unique take on the concept, departing from the traditional understanding of pathos as a somatic and emotional outburst.

Nabokov introduces the idea of "cold pathos," which he locates between the brain and the heart, specifically in the upper part of the spinal column. This is manifested as a persistent chill that accompanies the mature reader throughout the reading process. The title itself, "Anta or Pathos," gives a hint of the type of pathos that awaits the reader within the pages.

The book also contains a subtitle, "A Family Chronicle," which paradoxically combines pathos and family. Nabokov's fictional world is a departure from realism, set on an alternate planet called Antiterra. The characters' names are often composites or have allegorical meanings, adding depth and complexity to the story.

Nabokov's writing style is influenced by Russian formalism, employing techniques such as defamiliarization to create a unique literary experience. He imitates and parodies great literary predecessors like Flaubert, Tolstoy, Proust, and Joyce, while also adding his own modernist perspective. The story is divided into five parts, with the length gradually decreasing. The events span 100 years, from 1869 to 1969, in the fictional Antiterra, which has differences in history and technology compared to our world.

The fourth part of the book contains a book within the book titled "The Texture of Time," which is a key to understanding Nabokov's philosophy of time. According to the protagonist Van, the goal was to create a novel in the form of a treatise on the texture of time, with analogies that build and reverse, creating a love story that blossoms from the past to the present and then dissolves.

Nabokov is a deeply erotic writer, but his eroticism is expressed in terms of aesthetic artistry, serving the structural needs of the work. He does not shy away from描写sexual encounters, even between the young protagonists. However, he also analyzes the memory and experience of these encounters, elevating them to a literary level.

The reader is left in awe of Nabokov's literary prowess, as he weaves a complex and multi-layered story that engages the reader's mind and emotions. The book is filled with vivid descriptions, clever wordplay, and thought-provoking ideas, making it a must-read for lovers of literature.

In conclusion, "Anta or Pathos" is a remarkable work that showcases Nabokov's genius as a writer. It challenges our assumptions about pathos, time, and literature, and invites us to explore a world of imagination and beauty. Whether you are a fan of Nabokov or a newcomer to his work, this book is sure to leave a lasting impression.

“Ada” is the book by which I would like to be remembered after my death, said Vladimir Nabokov. For me, it will be remembered as one of the most difficult books I have ever read. I got lost in the labyrinth of literary, historical, and geographical references, camouflaged by word games, anagrams (for example, the Notes are by Vivian Darkbloom - which is one of the few I managed to decipher), invented names for real people, and an endless number of sentences whose meaning I did not understand. Ah, and chapter four about Time and Space? I understood absolutely nothing!

I think it is a book that, to be fully understood, requires a reader with a culture and intelligence “dangerously” superior to the norm and who is willing to accompany the reading with a lot of study, research, and patience. However, (and this is very strange but revealing of Nabokov's grandeur) although I “got hit on the head” in most of the book, Nabokov never “let” me give up, always keeping me charmed by the love story between Ada Veen and Van Veen; two cousins (children of the same mother and the same father) who fall in love when she is twelve years old and he is fourteen. Yes, another very “crazy” story by Mr. Nabokov...

Counting stars...

+ The way Nabokov writes is sublime. He creates beauty where there is supposed to be ugliness; he makes us laugh at what we expect to cry; he softens us with what should shock us;

- I could not construct the totality of the “puzzle”;

- I almost went crazy reading chapter four;

+ The characters of Ada and Van fascinated me for reflecting the human being on his wilder side (purer, more true?); they are selfish, they betray (each other), they do not submit to conventions and they feel, for each other, an absolute love (or just desire?) that, between meetings and misunderstandings, lasts for about eight decades.

+5* (Nabokov)

-1* (Riddles)

-1* (Time and Space)

+1* (Ada and Van)

= 4*

Nabokov is truly a remarkable writer who often reminds me of Tarantino. His style is unique and at times, brilliant. However, it also has its drawbacks. He can be sexually prurient, prone to self-indulgent navel-gazing, and overabundant in in-jokes and referential pantomiming. His focus on aesthetics sometimes overwhelms the narrative.

Sometimes, the narrative is strong enough to carry the excess weight of his self-indulgence, while other times it isn't. And these gradations can only be judged by the beholder's particular calculus.

That being said, Nabokov is a master when it comes to word-craft. He is a verbal acrobat, and although some might call him show-offy, his writing is just so damn good. He is both brilliant and maddening at the same time, depending on one's mood.

This story, like Lolita, centers around family sexual dynamics, specifically incest. I often wonder how Nabokov will be evaluated in this post-MeToo era. His infatuation with the sexuality of young girls might be hidden behind the guise of "It's Art!" but it gets to a point where the consistent indulgence of this theme becomes disconcerting.

The story is extremely readable, and it's the style and language that make it work for me, despite the themes. The nature of Time features prominently, and some of the digressions are interesting, while others are boring. Sometimes he is unnecessarily obtuse with his language, but other times it hits the perfect mark. He really knows how to craft imagery and complex verbal dynamics.

One thing I like about his language is his use of the trickery: noun-adjective + noun. For example, "bird-mad garden" echoes Yeats' "bee-loud glade." Nabokov also uses a lot of color descriptions, especially mauve and russet. It's almost musical how he accents his writing with notes of color.

In conclusion, I enjoy Nabokov because of the verbal aesthetics, even though I find his narratives not quite as interesting. He uses a ton of interesting words, some of which are new to me and really stick out. Overall, he is a fascinating writer who continues to captivate readers with his unique style and language.

I have reread ''Ada or Ardor'' after 12 years and discovered that I had almost forgotten everything, except for the main thread of the story: the passionate love between the siblings Ada and Van Veen.

My favorite character remains Lucinda/Lucy/Lucette Veen with her unrequited love and tragic destiny. The Nabokovian count gave her a consistent contour and made her unforgettable with her red hair and green eyes, easier to imagine and retain, more fascinating than the pale and cruel Ada.

I admit that I found the philosophical passages about Time and Space by Professor Ivan Veen difficult to digest and penetrate. Sometimes, in Part Four, I skipped entire paragraphs. But throughout the entire novel, I was frustrated by the inconsistencies between the clothing styles and haircuts of the characters and the historical time in which the story takes place, as well as the mystery - still unfathomable - of the geographical space in which the mythical Ardis is located. Vladimir Nabokov is, without a doubt, a master of metaphor, a brave explorer of the erotic taboo, and ''Ada or Ardor'' is his masterpiece, unjustly overshadowed by his strange ''sister'', ''Lolita''.

Suppose things had taken a different turn for Humbert Humbert.

He might have served a stint in jail without suffering a heart attack.

Lolita could have lived beyond her teenage years, not dying while giving birth to a stillborn child.

Instead, they both endured various sordid escapades and then, miraculously, reconnected after twenty years.

At that moment, they suddenly discovered that they shared something beautiful and unique.

And imagine that Humbert, when he was a near-senile old man, actually penned his memoirs.

He confused his native France with his adopted US and cheerfully distorted all the facts to present them in the most favorable light.

Meanwhile, Lolita edited his manuscript over his shoulder, adding a quirky, loving aside to her darling Humbie every now and then.

You understand all this? Well, the outcome might be somewhat similar to Ada, an imaginative and disturbing novel even by Nabokov's standards.

If you liked Lolita and thought, as I did, that it was essentially a very moral book, you might want to give Ada a try.

However, if Lolita left you feeling angry and indignant, then it's best to stay away.

You really won't like this one.

Vladimir Nabokov is a brilliant ironist, which is why I didn't dislike reading this work.

However, all the wit cannot disguise the fact that the plot - incestuous relationship between siblings that lasts for half a life with confusions and complications - is dull and ultimately rather uninteresting. An author who mocks the inadequacies of other authors with great arrogance like Nabokov must also face the fact that his temporal horizon is fragmented and completely unrealistic. For example, someone rides a motorcycle in the United States in 1886, and even before the turn of the century, people fly airplanes and make phone calls. An American has to go to Europe for military service years before the First World War and so on.

These anachronisms and implausibilities make it difficult for the reader to fully engage with the story and suspend disbelief. Despite Nabokov's literary talent and clever use of irony, the fundamental flaws in the plot prevent this work from being a truly great one.

Van - Ada - Lucette
Lolita - Humbert - Charlotte
Nabokov - Language - unreliable narrator

The (Un)holy Trinity
Nabokov is widely regarded as one of the greatest literary minds. His works are known for their complex and intricate plots, as well as his masterful use of language. In his novels, he often employs an unreliable narrator, which adds an extra layer of mystery and ambiguity.

Take, for example, "Lolita." The story is told from the perspective of Humbert Humbert, a man who becomes obsessed with a young girl named Lolita. Humbert's narration is full of self-justification and rationalization, which makes it difficult for the reader to trust his account of events.

Similarly, in "Ada," the relationship between Van and Ada is complex and fraught with moral ambiguity. The narrator's perspective is again unreliable, leaving the reader to question the true nature of their relationship.

Nabokov's use of language is also a key feature of his work. His prose is often described as lyrical and poetic, with a rich vocabulary and a unique style. His ability to create vivid and memorable characters through language is truly remarkable.

In conclusion, Nabokov's work is a testament to his literary genius. The (Un)holy Trinity of characters, unreliable narrators, and masterful language make his novels some of the most engaging and thought-provoking works of literature.

Vladimir Nabokov has always intrigued me.

His works are like a labyrinth of words, filled with intricate details and hidden meanings.

The way he weaves his stories, creating vivid characters and rich landscapes, is truly remarkable.

Each sentence seems to be carefully crafted, as if he is painting a masterpiece with words.

And yet, there is something about his writing that also frustrates me.

Maybe it's the complexity of his ideas, or the way he plays with language.

But despite my frustrations, I can't help but be drawn back to his works, eager to uncover their secrets and understand his unique perspective on the world.

Nabokov, you damned genius, you continue to baffle and fascinate me, as always.

A bit rich for my blood.

After reading this work, I walked away with the distinct feeling that Nabokov is an absolute genius, while I am just a peasant who can barely skate on the surface of the English language.

I have decided that I will reread it in 20 years when I am more erudite and sophisticated.

This reading guide was truly invaluable in helping me understand the 98% of the tri-lingual puns and obscure literary references that completely went over my head. (Does anyone actually read Chateaubriand?)

Surprisingly, I am now totally inspired to read Mansfield Park again, not for its literary merit, but purely for the incestuous elements within it. It's an odd motivation, but it shows how this particular reading experience has had a rather unexpected impact on my literary interests.

Overall, this has been a thought-provoking and eye-opening encounter with a piece of literature that has left me with a sense of both admiration and inadequacy.