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Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov
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it was amazing
bookshelves: favourites-slight-return

I loved this, especially as my copy of the book seemed to operate on a meta-meta-meta-meta-level.

The book initially appears to be an unfinished poem, 'Pale Fire', by a dead writer named John Shade, together with a foreword, detailed commentary and index by a friend of his, Charles Kinbote.

But Kinbote is less interested in the poem than he is in discussing the country of 'Zembla' and its flamboyantly gay, deposed King. It's more or less apparent, as the book progresses, that Kinbote is EITHER a) the King of Zembla, b) The insane Professor Botkin (= almost an anagram of Kinbote, see?), who believes that he is the King of Zembla or c) A fictional creation of Shade, who has faked his own death and written the commentary and notes himself in an attempt at a post-modern masterpiece.

So, the reader is left unsure what parts of a fictional work are INTENDED to be fictional in the context of the book (Zembla doesn't 'really' exist, but as the rest of the book is also unreal, does this matter?). And of course, if you want to be all realist about it, the whole thing is written by Nabakov rather than Shade or Kinbote anyway.

But (meta-meta-meta level) my copy of the book has pencil writing in the margin from some student/s, who've provided their own commentary on Kinbote's (=Botkin or Shade's, = Nabakov's) commentary, seemingly without realising the irony.

And (meta-meta-meta-meta level), someone else has stuck a post-it on the last page, saying:


'Dear Phantom Annotator,
Your meta-scribbling has amused me more you could imagine'

I laughed. But now my head hurts.
128 likes ·  鈭� flag

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Quotes Nick Liked

Vladimir Nabokov
“I was the shadow of the waxwing slain/By the false azure in the windowpane...”
Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire

Vladimir Nabokov
“And he absolutely had to find her at once to tell her that he adored her, but the large audience before him separated him from the door, and the notes reaching him through a succession of hands said that she was not available; that she was inaugurating a fire; that she had married an american businessman; that she had become a character in a novel; that she was dead.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire

Vladimir Nabokov
“If I correctly understand the sense of this succinct observation, our poet suggests here that human life is but a series of footnotes to a vast obscure unfinished masterpiece.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire

Vladimir Nabokov
“Speaking of novels,鈥� I said, 鈥榶ou remember we decided once, you, your husband and I, that Proust鈥檚 rough masterpiece was a huge, ghoulish fairy tale, an asparagus dream, totally unconnected with any possible people in any historical France, a sexual travestissement and a colossal farce, the vocabulary of genius and its poetry, but no more, impossibly rude hostesses, please let me speak, and even ruder guests, mechanical Dostoevskian rows and Tolstoian nuances of snobbishness repeated and expanded to an unsufferable length, adorable seascapes, melting avenues, no, do not interrupt me, light and shade effects rivaling those of the greatest English poets, a flora of metaphors, described鈥攂y Cocteau, I think鈥攁s 鈥渁 mirage of suspended gardens,鈥� and, I have not yet finished, an absurd, rubber-and-wire romance between a blond young blackguard (the fictitious Marcel), and an improbable jeune fille who has a pasted-on bosom, Vronski鈥檚 (and Lyovin鈥檚) thick neck, and a cupid鈥檚 buttocks for cheeks; but鈥攁nd now let me finish sweetly鈥攚e were wrong, Sybil, we were wrong in denying our little beau t茅n茅breux the capacity of evoking 鈥渉uman interest鈥�: it is there, it is there鈥攎aybe a rather eighteenth-centuryish, or even seventeenth-centuryish, brand, but it is there. Please, dip or redip, spider, into this book [offering it], you will find a pretty marker in it bought in France, I want John to keep it. Au revoir, Sybil, I must go now. I think my telephone is ringing.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire

Vladimir Nabokov
“When I hear a critic speaking of an author鈥檚 sincerity I know that either the critic or the author is a fool”
Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire

Vladimir Nabokov
“It is not easy to describe lucidly in short notes to a poem the various approaches to a fortified castle,”
Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire

Vladimir Nabokov
“Another tormentor inquired if it was true that I had installed two ping-pong tables in my basement. I asked, was it a crime? No, he said, but why two? "Is that a crime?" I countered, and they all laughed.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire


Reading Progress

Finished Reading
August 13, 2007 – Shelved
February 7, 2018 – Shelved as: favourites-slight-return

Comments Showing 1-8 of 8 (8 new)

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Gemma Would you be as impressed if you didn't have the meta meta meta meta novel? I'm feeling a little disappointed for having a brand new copy. I've also just spent 10 mins trying to get my head around the concept of the book, and haven't even begun reading!


Manny So, um, my comment on your review is... let me see... no, I've lost track of the metas. Damn! But it's self-referential, anyway.




message 3: by Bryan (new) - added it

Bryan Delightful review!

Engaging: I was laughing and smiling throughout.

I've often wondered about the "conversations" that could take place between, among and within books and their readers.

Pure joy!

Thank you.


message 4: by T.r. (new) - added it

T.r. Sune My head hurts reading your comments ...


Adriana Garties Haha! What if your Phantom Annotator was actually a brilliant meta-troll who deliberately left those seemingly naive comments to further amuse future readers?


Kenton Yee Did Nabakov anticipate that 21st century readers will have trouble reading long footnotes in eBook format? I wonder how the audiobook handles footnotes.


Elin Dear reviewer of the post-it reviewing the pencilled reviews of Kinbote's commentary on Shade's poem...

It was an excellent review, and that post it amused ME very much :D


Erina French Ohhh brilliant! I鈥檝e annotated all over my copy, wanting to create a third story for the supposed next reader to read as well (most likely my future self) like kinbote has used the poem to tell his own story, and like shade is immortalised there in his art, I am too. I am, too.


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