"I am here through an error- not in this prison, specifically- but in this whole terrible, striped world; a world which seems not a bad example of amateur craftsmanship, but is in reality calamity, horror, madness, error- and look, the curio slays the tourist, the gigantic carved bear brings its wooden mallet down on me. And yet, ever since early childhood, I have had dreams... In my dreams the world was ennobled, spiritualized; people whom in the waking state I feared so much appeared there in shimmering refraction, just as if they were imbued with and enveloped by the vibration of light which in sultry weather inspires the very outlines of objects with life; their voices, their step, the expressions of their eyes and even of their clothes- acquired an exciting significance; to put it more simply, in my dreams the world would come alive, becoming so captivatingly majestic, free and ethereal, that afterwards it would be oppressive to breathe the dust of this painted life"(Cinncinnatus C. writing in his cell in Invitation to a Beheading)
I started this a long time ago, but only made it through the first chapter and set it down. A couple of days ago I picked it up again, and I have to say that it has sucked me in... that's not necessarily a good thing. I really don't have much time for that. I will try to put it aside for now. Maybe read it at the beach or something. When I have time I'm going to have to read Lolita. From what I've heard, that is one of Nabokov's better works. Just to let you know, if you have time, this book is definitely worth reading.
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