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"After walking back from the village to his manor across the dimming snows, Sleptsov sat down in a corner, on a plush covered chair which he never remembered using before.  It was the kind of thing that happens after some great calamity.  Not your brother but a chance acquaintance, a vague country neighbor to whom you never paid much attention, with whom in normal times you exchange scarcely a word, is the one who comforts you wisely and gently, and hands you your dropped hat after the funeral service is over, and you are reeling from grief, your teeth chattering, your eyes blinded by tears.  The same can be said of inanimate objects.  Any room, even the coziest and the most absurdly small, in the little-used wing of a great country house has an unlived-in corner.  And it was such a corner in which Sleptsov sat."
That's the opening paragraph of a Nabokov christmas story I read on christmas day, possibly my favorite thing I read all year with the exception of The Satanic Verses.

Comments

that's awesome.
the only nabakov i've read is some of pale fire, which was really good but i was always trying to read it on the subway and it's kind of confusing because you have to flip from page to page a lot to read it right. that excerpt makes me want to start reading that again though!

hope everything in bloomington is good!

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