A sumptuous feast of language, a glorious celebration of magic and transcendence, a completely surreal, psychedelic, short, precocious, nearly humiliating display of writing virtuosity. In other words, just what I had hoped for.
12.29.2005
"The Word" by Vladimir Nabokov
New Yorker fiction -- December 26, 2005 & January 2, 2006 issue
A sumptuous feast of language, a glorious celebration of magic and transcendence, a completely surreal, psychedelic, short, precocious, nearly humiliating display of writing virtuosity. In other words, just what I had hoped for.
A sumptuous feast of language, a glorious celebration of magic and transcendence, a completely surreal, psychedelic, short, precocious, nearly humiliating display of writing virtuosity. In other words, just what I had hoped for.
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1 comment:
And my subscription just lapsed...Your review was a more effective reminder to renew than all the mail I've tossed in my basket in the last few weeks.
Thanks, Grendel.
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