(Review for Speak, Memory only: four stars)
It was a pleasure to read Nabokov after so long. I forgot how easy it is to get carried along by the flow and particularities of his prose, sometimes to the point of losing the meaning of what’s being expressed. Speak, Memory is a kind of memoir of Nabokov’s childhood through his family’s exile in Europe following the Russian Revolution. I learned (or was reminded of) a lot that sheds light on his writing, such as the fact that he had synesthesia (syllables and letters had colors). He read and wrote English before Russian but later lamented that his English skills did not match those in Russian (if only I read Russian!). At one point he states that once he used a detail of his life for his fiction, it felt like it was no longer his.
If you’re familiar with Nabokov, you’ll enjoy the passages detailing or referencing his passion for butterfly hunting. In fact my favorite line in the book concerns it: “America has shown even more of this morbid interest in my retiary activities than other countries have–perhaps because I was in my forties when I came there to live, and the older the man, the queerer he looks with a butterfly net in his hand.” Lol, indeed.
I was less interested in some of the earlier chapters that focus on his extended family, but there were still fascinating stories to be had, and his prose is always worth it.