Excellent. Fiction about chess, Nabokov...How can you go wrong.
This is the third novel written by Nabokov after he had emigrated to Berlin. It was published in 1930 but not Englished until 1964 by Michael Scammell in collaboration with the author. Since, in many respects, Nabokov's stories are more about style and sense impressions than stories or characters, the way I read a Nabokov novel is to immerse myself in the rich and powerful language. Lose myself in its sounds and rhythms even in a translation (at least N. had a hand in this one), revel in the detailed descriptions and the images. Not as hard as Faulkner, but reading it twice yields rewards (i.e., grokking things missed the first time).
