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3.81 AVERAGE
3.81 AVERAGE
I love Nabokov, and the best way to explain my particular affection for his writing is that I find it really, truly rewarding. The process of reading a Nabokov novel is, by far, more important than its destination, and every sentence absolutely begs you to read it--no, stop, don't go on just yet--read it again, and maybe one more time before you venture forward and study the next phrase for the same several moments. It's like dangling joyfully on a single monkey bar before gathering the strength to swing onto the next one. It's a playground of syntax. And I am enchanted every time.
I, like so many readers, was lured into Lolita by a scandalized curiosity and a dazzling, lyrical first chapter (brief though it is), but since delving into Nabokov's other writings, I've decided that Lolita is far from his best work. It earned him infamy, which is wonderful, as it likely drew in more of a loyal readership than, say, the complex Pale Fire or some of his lesser-known books would ever have been able to do. But if Lolita is the catchy #1 radio hit, Pale Fire is the true devotee's favorite tune off the album, and Pnin--well, I think Pnin is an underplayed symphony.
Pnin discusses the life and mishaps of Timofey Pavlovich Pnin, professor of Russian at a fictional upstate New York college named Waindell, likely modeled after Nabokov's own experience at Cornell or Wellesley. Since that's not much more than Wikipedia tells you, let me try to do a better job. Pnin begins on a train (one of my personal favorite settings for movies, novels, video games--don't know why) with the untenured Professor Pnin on his way to give a lecture. But we soon discover that it is inherently "Pninian" for certain things to go wrong--and for Pnin to expect it. He anticipates that he might misplace his lecture (which he would be useless without, as his fragile grasp on the English language does not enable him to ad-lib effectively), so he weighs his options. Should he place it in his luggage, which might get stolen on the platform? In the coat he's wearing? In the coat he intends to wear that evening? But although he knows his luck and has the sense to think ahead, Pnin doesn't anticipate that he could have gotten on the wrong train. Which he has.
This and other funny incidents always seem to happen to Pnin. He once won over a woman, Liza, and made her his wife, only to lose her to another man, Eric, then win her back, then lose her to the same man again, then briefly inherit Liza and Eric's child. He struggles to buy the child (Victor) a soccer ball, but later discovers Victor has no interest in sports.
This is Pninian. This is the funny type of misfortune that seems to befall our titular hero--so much so that it earns itself an adjective. Pninian. I love that, I love the look of it, the sound of it, and the color it brings to the story. What the novel lacks in typical narrative-based plot, it makes up in the most interesting, vivid episodic telling of a character's life that I've ever read in fiction. Maybe Pnin is somewhat inspired by Nabokov and his real-life colleagues, but that doesn't matter; it takes a special kind of observational writing to produce such a well-rounded, believable character, whether inspired by actual people or not.
Oh, darling Pnin. It's such a rare thing to feel for a single character respect, pity, admiration, amusement, fascination, and love--not simply over the course of a story, but all at once.
This and more reviews/commentary at http://anagiovinazzo.com
I, like so many readers, was lured into Lolita by a scandalized curiosity and a dazzling, lyrical first chapter (brief though it is), but since delving into Nabokov's other writings, I've decided that Lolita is far from his best work. It earned him infamy, which is wonderful, as it likely drew in more of a loyal readership than, say, the complex Pale Fire or some of his lesser-known books would ever have been able to do. But if Lolita is the catchy #1 radio hit, Pale Fire is the true devotee's favorite tune off the album, and Pnin--well, I think Pnin is an underplayed symphony.
Pnin discusses the life and mishaps of Timofey Pavlovich Pnin, professor of Russian at a fictional upstate New York college named Waindell, likely modeled after Nabokov's own experience at Cornell or Wellesley. Since that's not much more than Wikipedia tells you, let me try to do a better job. Pnin begins on a train (one of my personal favorite settings for movies, novels, video games--don't know why) with the untenured Professor Pnin on his way to give a lecture. But we soon discover that it is inherently "Pninian" for certain things to go wrong--and for Pnin to expect it. He anticipates that he might misplace his lecture (which he would be useless without, as his fragile grasp on the English language does not enable him to ad-lib effectively), so he weighs his options. Should he place it in his luggage, which might get stolen on the platform? In the coat he's wearing? In the coat he intends to wear that evening? But although he knows his luck and has the sense to think ahead, Pnin doesn't anticipate that he could have gotten on the wrong train. Which he has.
This and other funny incidents always seem to happen to Pnin. He once won over a woman, Liza, and made her his wife, only to lose her to another man, Eric, then win her back, then lose her to the same man again, then briefly inherit Liza and Eric's child. He struggles to buy the child (Victor) a soccer ball, but later discovers Victor has no interest in sports.
This is Pninian. This is the funny type of misfortune that seems to befall our titular hero--so much so that it earns itself an adjective. Pninian. I love that, I love the look of it, the sound of it, and the color it brings to the story. What the novel lacks in typical narrative-based plot, it makes up in the most interesting, vivid episodic telling of a character's life that I've ever read in fiction. Maybe Pnin is somewhat inspired by Nabokov and his real-life colleagues, but that doesn't matter; it takes a special kind of observational writing to produce such a well-rounded, believable character, whether inspired by actual people or not.
Oh, darling Pnin. It's such a rare thing to feel for a single character respect, pity, admiration, amusement, fascination, and love--not simply over the course of a story, but all at once.
This and more reviews/commentary at http://anagiovinazzo.com
Not one of his best; Nabokov slugs through this novel with boring back stories, frustrating narratives, and mundane characters. It lacks the fantasy, mystique, and intrigue of most of his work as well as the masterful writing I have so fallen in love with.
Was für ein großartiges Buch, Nabokov entwickelt sich mehr und mehr zu meinem persönlichen literarischen Highlight.
Lies meine Rezension hier.
Lies meine Rezension hier.
I enjoyed this, but I wasn't sure if the author via the narrator was very sympathetic to this bumbling character. It felt more by the end that we were meant to laugh at the titular character. Maybe the point was to make us feel uncomfortable, to make us feel the tragedy of it all, but whatever humanity was lost in the curlicues of language.
I guess I first read this in 2015 and then had the happy occasion to re-read it for a group read.
I love this book, I love Pnin, there's so much fun to be had - in fact, for most of the book, I wondered what the sadness that Graham Greene blurbed about would be.
I found the "analysis" section of the wikipedia page on Pnin very helpful in elucidating allusions to the Holocaust, which certainly can be found in the book, but I needed help in actually stringing them together and having the squirrel motif in the book highlighted.
It was also interesting to hear others' interpretations of Pnin and whether he is a tragic character. I, for the most part, found him to be a protagonist who recurringly snatches victory from the jaws of defeat - sure, he messes up his trains, but he gets there! Everything comes up Pnin! Until - the end, after his party? (which, as someone with a bit of a horror of hosting parties, was excruciatingly sad to read) But then - at the very end - does he (happily?) escape? Or run away with his tail between his legs? I'm not sure.
In a random connection, I was struck by how much Pnin cries in this book, which reminded me how surprised I am in [a:Emily Wilson|478455|Emily Wilson|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1677271445p2/478455.jpg]'s [b:The Odyssey|34068470|The Odyssey|Homer|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1487351579l/34068470._SY75_.jpg|3356006], when the men are so often crying. In the latter, it made me think about all the different words/translations for crying, but overall, it just makes me note how infrequently this is described as happening in male characters.
The whole character of Victor was pretty uninteresting for me, and the focus on him was where I kind of fell out of love with the book. I also didn't understand how he holds Pnin in such high regard, as I didn't see any actions that supported that until we are told he got the punch bowl for Pnin (what kind of thing is that for a teenager to get an adult? Was this just a different time? I did love the description of that punch bowl, though!!). Somehow the whole Eric Wind storyline felt, to me, like an excuse for Nabokov to air his hatred for analysis.
The narrator? I was fine with him. I can't understand Pnin's interactions (or denial thereof) with the narrator, and to me, this at least threw my perception of Pnin into question, and then made me think about the perception of many characters throughout. I think the reader considers Pnin to be well-meaning and perhaps charming, while being aware of the characters who mock him. Pnin doesn't fit in in the US, but this says as much about the US and the provincial school as about Pnin himself, right? But, when we don't see him through such a loving lens, what is Pnin really?
Anyway, reading Nabokov is joy, and Pnin goes down a lot easier than some of this other writing.
I love this book, I love Pnin, there's so much fun to be had - in fact, for most of the book, I wondered what the sadness that Graham Greene blurbed about would be.
I found the "analysis" section of the wikipedia page on Pnin very helpful in elucidating allusions to the Holocaust, which certainly can be found in the book, but I needed help in actually stringing them together and having the squirrel motif in the book highlighted.
It was also interesting to hear others' interpretations of Pnin and whether he is a tragic character. I, for the most part, found him to be a protagonist who recurringly snatches victory from the jaws of defeat - sure, he messes up his trains, but he gets there! Everything comes up Pnin! Until - the end, after his party? (which, as someone with a bit of a horror of hosting parties, was excruciatingly sad to read) But then - at the very end - does he (happily?) escape? Or run away with his tail between his legs? I'm not sure.
In a random connection, I was struck by how much Pnin cries in this book, which reminded me how surprised I am in [a:Emily Wilson|478455|Emily Wilson|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1677271445p2/478455.jpg]'s [b:The Odyssey|34068470|The Odyssey|Homer|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1487351579l/34068470._SY75_.jpg|3356006], when the men are so often crying. In the latter, it made me think about all the different words/translations for crying, but overall, it just makes me note how infrequently this is described as happening in male characters.
The whole character of Victor was pretty uninteresting for me, and the focus on him was where I kind of fell out of love with the book. I also didn't understand how he holds Pnin in such high regard, as I didn't see any actions that supported that until we are told he got the punch bowl for Pnin (what kind of thing is that for a teenager to get an adult? Was this just a different time? I did love the description of that punch bowl, though!!). Somehow the whole Eric Wind storyline felt, to me, like an excuse for Nabokov to air his hatred for analysis.
The narrator? I was fine with him. I can't understand Pnin's interactions (or denial thereof) with the narrator, and to me, this at least threw my perception of Pnin into question, and then made me think about the perception of many characters throughout. I think the reader considers Pnin to be well-meaning and perhaps charming, while being aware of the characters who mock him. Pnin doesn't fit in in the US, but this says as much about the US and the provincial school as about Pnin himself, right? But, when we don't see him through such a loving lens, what is Pnin really?
Anyway, reading Nabokov is joy, and Pnin goes down a lot easier than some of this other writing.
funny
lighthearted
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
had stupidly forgotten how funny nabokov was, and how fun it is to read him.
this book has everything: neurotic but lovable main character, some humor, some sad bits, and nabokov's wit bringing it all together.
this book has everything: neurotic but lovable main character, some humor, some sad bits, and nabokov's wit bringing it all together.
funny
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I loved the writing in Pnin! If I had already read Lolita, this was a complete change. Nabokov plays with english, which make you slow down the reading. The truly wonderful thing is that with almost no plot, my interested has not diminished. Timofey Pnin, russian immigrant who tries to become situated in America, is truly loveable, even with a really particular personnality. I also found myself questionning our perceptions of what is, or not, pathetic. Truly a funny and reflexive book.
funny
medium-paced
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated