Pnin (Hardcover)

"A score of small butterflies, all of one kind, were settled on a damp patch of sand, their wings erect and closed, showing their pale undersides with dark dots and tiny orange-rimmed peacock spots along the hindwing margins; one of Pnin's shed rubbers disturbed some of them and, revealing the celestial hue of their upper surface, they fluttered around like blue snowflakes before settling again." (Vladimir Nabokov, Pnin)

In such thrilling undulations of verse will the memory of this novel preserve itself in the mind of its sensitive reader.

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Timofey Pnin is a timid professor of the Russian language at an American college, who moves every semester. Originally from Russia himself, he struggles with English, trains, appliances, dental work, and his relationship with his manipulative ex-wife, who insists that he give financial aid to her young son. The offbeat Russian expatriate drifts through his life, trying to arrange things the way they should be.

At first glance, Pnin looks like a clueless, absentminded loser. However, after Nabokov shows us his lost loves, his absurd little life, his reminiscences, we see him differently. Okay, he's still a clueless, absentminded loser. But he's a loser with depth! "Pnin" has pessimism, but there's a certain sense of comic optimism as well (despite Nabokov's explanation that he dislikes happy endings). Pnin's theme song should be "I Will Survive."

Nabokov's writing is less rich here than in many of his other novels, in keeping with the humorous plot. Perhaps the funniest chapter is when he describes Victor's lack of psychiatric complexity, making fun of shrinks everywhere. But there's plenty of subtlety with the satire, such as the tragic story of Mira, a woman Pnin loved who was killed by Nazis. Or how Pnin washes the dishes after a disastrous party.

Pnin is ethical, generous and forgiving as well as fussy, picky and more than a little strange; he's perhaps the most sympathetic character Nabokov ever made. Nabokov pokes fun at Pnin while making us like him for his essential kindness. He's no buffoon, but a person who could really exist. The other characters aren't quite as vivid, although Victor (Pnin's ex-wife's son) is very good: the hapless artist son of two shrinks, who disappoints them by not having any weird complexes.

In the end, Nabokov's "Pnin" is a sort of personal Don Quixote who is dealing with the strangeness of his own life. Comical and a bit saddening, this is an undeservedly little-known book.

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A linguistics professor, the often hapless and despairing and always comical Mr. Pnin has an unexplainable pride and an obsessive-compulsive personality. Like the book's author Vladimir Nabokov, Mr. Pnin is a quirky Russian expatriate in middle class America: he would be hard pressed to be more foreign. And yet he is a wonderful illustration of everyone's fruitless attempts to control what cannot be controlled in their lives. He is a stinging parady of himself, of Mr. Nabokov, of us.

In my mind, Pnin surpasses even Mr. Nabakov's masterpiece Lolita, simply because so much of the story of unforgettable Lo-li-ta has become so cliché that much of the author's artistry is obscured from modern readers' eyes. But with Pnin, Mr. Nabokov's deft and subtle hand is plain to see.

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