While I am a huge fan of Vladimir Nabokov, his playfully cryptic prose can cause any reader's head to run around in circles upon reading some of his work for the first time. Such is the case with the Eye, a semi-satirical take on the detective novel and commentary on the nature of the intertwined relationship between identity and memory after death. There are a lot of existential moments concerning the multifaceted nature of the unchanging self (etre en soi, sorry about the lack of accent marks). Wait a minute, Nabokov had a beef with Sartre, so I'm probably going to have to reread this again before I really figure out what's going on. But if you're interested in philosophy and absurdity you'll probably like this novel.
Last edited by Tracy (2nd Jul 2005 17:58)
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