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In the mornings the writer, a Russian, would go swimming at a lake outside Berlin. Every morning the same man would appear next to him. He was a bowlegged,…
Vladimir Nabokov
Read more on The New Yorker →8 picks · 1948–1985
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fiction ·
A short story by Vladimir Nabokov, translated by Dmitri Nabakov, exploring memory and mourning during the Christmas holiday season.
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The writer tells of the relations between Yasha, Rudolf, and Olya, three students with whom he attended Berlin University. Yasha, in his diary, described …
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Fiction by Vladimir Nabokov, from 1955: “Half past eight, post meridiem. A little house-heating soirée, nothing more.”
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Fiction, from 1950: Neither in environment nor in heredity can I find the exact instrument that fashioned me.
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Fiction, from 1949: “Seen through the carefully wiped lenses of time, the beauty of her face is as near as ever and as glowing.”
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Memories of White Russia during the writer's youth. He recalls reenacting, with his cousin, the Wild West fiction of Capt. Mayne Reid, an American …
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Short story about an aged Russian couple going to pay their insane son a visit on his birthday.