Brooklyn, late 2010s. I finally found it. There it is, at the bottom of a dollar bin: Vladimir Nabokov’s first novel, Mashenka. Magenta cover, simple black type. I lift it by the edges, gingerly, as if it didn’t just spend
Brooklyn, late 2010s. I finally found it. There it is, at the bottom of a dollar bin: Vladimir Nabokov’s first novel, Mashenka. Magenta cover, simple black type. I lift it by the edges, gingerly, as if it didn’t just spend
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