talliekane's diary

This afternoon I was handed a copy of The Times (UK) by my good friend and colleague Jacob who winked at me and told me to control myself. I didn't do a particularly good job of it.

I had only heard a little bit about The Original of Laura and as a self-confessed Nabokovian I was utterly ashamed that I had not looked into it earlier. Properly and obsessively. The story followed N's wish to have the manuscript of his final work destroyed after his death. 30 years on it still exists, somewhere in a Swiss bank vault. Dmitri Nabokov, V's son is the sole executor and ultimately had already disobeyed his fathers wishes by not doing so immediately.

The work, illustrating the life of Phillip Wild, a man who piece by piece erases himself, explores notions of death and existence that echoe within N's later work. Should it be released to the public, just scholars? Or burned and its memory forever fragmented and elusive.

Inside I'm screaming 'Yes! Publish it!' but the writer, possibly the more sensible of the two is upholding the fact that I would never want to read the half-finished script of a finished masterpiece when the person was alive, never mind dead. The fact that it will never be finished only leads me to be dissuaded from turning it into one of my 'Must do within lifespan' items. It may prove valuable to scholars of Nabokov's work, it might even give insight into his already fascinating mind, but one must think of the reader. Nabokov ultimately was an author. It could turn out to be a huge loss to literature, as Kafka's Metamorphosis had an appointment with the shredder but narrowly missed it, to success.

I really don't know to be fair. It's such a moral/mental battle for me. I'm utterly desperate to read it but at the same time I know it will disappoint me. I will never know half the story, possibly not the end, and whats the point in reading only bits and pieces of a book (cue jokes about english literature students).

Hmm. I'll probably be ranting about this for a while.