I finished pnin. It’s been months. I loved it. I was a bit shocked (not the right word, but its late) by the ending. I should probably wait until we finish Jane Eyre in English to start a new book, but the glass castle is on my floor and I’ve already read the first chapter. I’ll probably read that now.
“By some tender coincidence the bowl had come on the very day Pnin had counted the chairs and started to plan this party. It had come enclosed in a box within another box inside a third one, and wrapped up in an extravagant mass of excelsior and paper that had spread all over the kitchen like a carnival storm. The bowl that emerged was one of those gifts whose first impact produces in the recipient’s mind a colored image, a blazoned blur, reflecting with such emblematic force the sweet nature of the donor that the tangible attributes of the thing are dissolved, as it were, in this pure inner blaze, but suddenly and forever leap into brilliant being when praised by an outsider to whom the true glory of the object is unknown.”—Vladimir Nabokov, Pnin