I have not read any Nabokov. However, based on these amazing opening lines, I think I am going to have to.
Oh man, you've never read Nabokov? Do I have an annotated Lolita for you.
I was the shadow of the waxwing slain
By the false azure in the windowpane;
I was the smudge of ashen fluff, and I
Lived on, flew on, in the reflected sky.
And from the inside too, I'd duplicate
Myself, my lamp, an apple on a plate:
Uncurtaining the night, I'd let dark glass
Hang all the furniture above the grass
Etc. to 999 lines...
The stomping grounds of Robin Sloan, Matt Thompson, and Tim Carmody, serving up links and dish on the happenings of the day -- or back in the day -- or the days to come.