She is and is not Zina in, or in that novel, or the missing V in. She exists through his literature in variety of ways - physically, emotionally, intellectually, inspirationally, and has essentially nothing to say about any of it, other than to deny it, as did her husband. She was everywhere in his life, and tried to make herself nowhere, even destroying all the letters she wrote him. She took care of every aspect of the Nabokov private and professional life, including typing up and editing and critiquing all his manuscripts, teaching his classes when he was sick, negotiating all their business activities with publishers, all the communication with colleagues, publishers, friends and family, even his family. The Russian Jew, Vera (née Slonim) Nabokov was something of a contradiction - an extremely proud, intelligent, well-read, mutlilingual scholar of a sort, who proudly made herself humbled to her husband's work, as invisible as possible, except when this was impossible. This is a beautiful book, but I find it a little tricky to review because it's difficult to get the nuance right. Petersburg, Berlin, the French Riveira, Paris, Boston, Ithica New York, some American road trips, the Swiss Alps, to name a few.Ībout the author: born in Adams, MA, 1961 Véra : Mrs Vladimir Nabokov by Stacy Schiffįormat: 437-page Modern Library Paperback from 2000
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