Nabokov's ladder:- when you haven't read it
- elementary discoveries
- starting to grasp it
- discovery of discovery

Vlad is the puppet master:
he wrote a commentary about Kinbote's commentary about Shade's poem, so basically a commentary on a commentary on a commentary that he wrote! Is that like a commentary cubed?
Other puppet masters:
Gepetto

N'SYNC
intentional fallacy
Indexes:
- 'A Clockwork Orange'

- Pale Fire
Arden Shakespeare: Timon of Athens: "The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction / Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, / And her pale fire she snatches from the sun..."
The Index: "a cornucopia of clues for understanding the novel" ~Dr S
- G: Graddus- the killer of Shade, never mentioned in the poem. Perhaps in CK's mind?
- K: Kinbote- the narcissistic commentator, suffers from NPD who imposed himself into S's poem and life
- S: Shade- author of the poem, hardly mentioned at all in the index, always in reference to K
- Hazel and Sybil Shade: are the center of the poem, and yet almost entirely left out of the index
Serious Naricissm: failure to note other people exist and are important
Ben Chapman: in baseball AND literature!
There is no Frigate like a book! ~Emily Dickinson
"The person with the imagination has it all" "If you understand the imagination, you understand everything!" ~Dr S
Nabokov is like a temple priest
"Who do you go to to learn about 12 year old girls? You do not go to 12 year old girls! They know nothing! You go to the artist." ~ Dr S
The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane
"Mr. Rogers was wrong! Everyone is NOT special!" ~Dr S
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern: "The world is a cage!"
"We are most artistically caged" ~pg 37
'the great bear'
Hogarthian photos: 
Starover Blue: Flag for the Russian navy
Hazel: ugly, but intelligent



Did you know Rocky Votolato is in a band named 




monkey




pg 237 "One of the bathers had left the pool and, half-conceal by the peacocked shade of trees, stood quite still, holding the ends of the towel around his neck and following Lolita with his amber eyes. There he stood, in the camouflage of sun and shade, disfigured by them and masked by his own nakedness, his damp black hair or what was left of it, glued to his round head, his little mustache a humid smear, the wool on his chest spread like a symmetrical trophy, his naval pulsating, his hirsute thighs dripping with bright droplets, his tight wet black bathing trunks bloated and bursting with vigor where his great fat bullybag was pulled up and back like a padded shield over his reversed beasthood. And as I looked at his oval nut-brown face, it dawned upon me that what I had recognized him by was that reflection of my daughter's countenance- the same beatitude and grimace but made hideous by his maleness."










