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A review by raulbime
Pnin by Vladimir Nabokov
5.0
This was fun, just plain delightful reading. Pnin is a Russian émigré living in the U.S. and teaching in a school called Waindell. Poor blundering, stumbling, clumsy and unlucky Pnin. All the bad luck and miseries he faces and still remains dignified and maintaining a certain level of innocence amidst failure and mockery, as well as retaining his sense of individuality and eccentrity.
Nabokov, of course, writes with great brilliance. For example: "It surprised him to realize how fond he had been of his teeth. His tongue, a fat sleek seal, used to flop and slide happily among the familiar rocks, checking the contours of a battered but still secure kingdom, plunging from cave to cove, climbing this jag, nuzzling that notch, finding a shred of sweetened seaweed in the same old cleft; but now not a landmark remained, and all there existed was a great dark wound, a terra incognita of gums which dreadband disgust forbade one to investigate."
I'll certainly miss Pnin and will think of him every now and then.
Nabokov, of course, writes with great brilliance. For example: "It surprised him to realize how fond he had been of his teeth. His tongue, a fat sleek seal, used to flop and slide happily among the familiar rocks, checking the contours of a battered but still secure kingdom, plunging from cave to cove, climbing this jag, nuzzling that notch, finding a shred of sweetened seaweed in the same old cleft; but now not a landmark remained, and all there existed was a great dark wound, a terra incognita of gums which dreadband disgust forbade one to investigate."
I'll certainly miss Pnin and will think of him every now and then.