What would Nabokov do?

The editor of the magazine was apologetic but firm. The column I had just sent him, while containing some good bits, was self-indulgent. “Too many notes,” he added, a politic reference to Amadeus that framed him as the tone-deaf Emperor and me as a misunderstood Mozart. But beneath the self-deprecating and flattering allusion was aContinue reading “What would Nabokov do?”