'What can be sadder than a discouraged artist dying not from his own commonplace maladies, but from the cancer of oblivion?' asked Nabokov, before requesting his final unfinished novel be burned after his death. Introduced by Dmitri Nabokov, who did not burn it but released it from a Swiss bank vault. Literary folly? Is Nabokov turning in his grave?
Parallel text of sorts: reproductions of Nabokov's index cards at the top of the page, printed text of each card below.