About book The Original Of Laura (LB): Library Edition, Nonremovable Cards (2009)
It feels unfair to review a work in progress, but sadly that's all that's left of Nabokov's final piece. The writing is achingly beautiful, as always, and seeing his process of scribbling, rearranging, tinkering, and creating was fascinating. If you're a fan of Nabokov, you'll likely enjoy this glimpse into his process and his mind (as well as the bones of what was sure to be another masterpiece). But if you've never read any of his previous works, this is not where you should start. Reading this fragmented novel is a sweet and sorrowful pleasure. It takes a little getting used to because of its incompleteness and general sense of disarray, but once you start to connect (and disconnect) the characters from the scattered note cards, you're presented with a building narrative that's rich in Nabokov's familiar themes. Oh, how I wish it had been completed! But, also, how glad I am that it wasn't - that readers have a chance to see the intimate details of Nabokov's way of creating. The book may seem long when you take a first glance at its outside appearance, but I read the bulk of it while enjoying a leisurely breakfast and (somewhat large) cup of tea. Each page has, at the most, a paragraph comprised of about four or five sentences laid out on the page underneath a photocopy of the original index card on which the author wrote. The back of each page contains no words, but instead a copy of the reverse side of the index card. It is also worth mentioning that the introduction by Nabokov's son, Dmitri, is also an intimate portrait of the author that may not ever have been divulged if the note cards had been destroyed as Nabokov had wished. Dmitri gives us a glimpse into the last days of his father, a glimpse of his habits, his illness, and his family relationships. Sorry, my dear Vladimir, but I am so grateful to your son for defying your wishes.
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I wish that we could read the completed book, but it is an honor to read it as a work in process.
—Chelsea3920
Out of respect I shan't review a book that its author intended to be burned.
—jyotika
