31 January (1976): Vladimir Nabokov to Samuel Rosoff

During the last two years of his life Vladimir Nabokov underwent treatment for a mysterious lung disease from which he would eventually die. While battling his protracted illness, Nabokov was in negotiations with Andrew Field, a close associate turned nemesis critic. Field had, after writing about Nabokov’s work in flattering terms, approached Nabokov in order to compile his definitive biography. Nabokov approved, only to rescind support after looking at the manuscript, declaring that his life and work had been grossly misinterpreted. He had always privileged authorial intent above all, believing that conflict occurred not between characters, but between author and reader: “In the long run, it is only the author’s private satisfaction that counts.” In the letter below, Nabokov rallies in order to address his old friend, Samuel Rosoff.

 To Samuel Rosoff:

Palace Hotel
Montreux
31 January 1976

We are heartily enjoying your sunny grapefruit, which arrived safe and sound the other day. Many thanks!

Ever since my appendicitis in the spring of 1917, I had assumed for some reason that no one would ever again put me under (loss of consciousness represents for me the worst coalescence of the worst possible nightmare). None the less, three and a half months ago, I had to undergo a much more serious operation. My recovery was rather trying but now I am better, except for hopeless insomnia. I have gradually gotten back to my writing, and am working on the first third of a new novel.

Vera is deluged with correspondence from a crowd of publishers and hordes of unknown well-wishers; in this, however, she is assisted by our secretary. Mityusha is currently singing with the Lyon Opera, and recently completely a superb Italian translation of my Transparent Things. I am still at war with Field, who turned out to be a rat, and am forcing him to delete or alter all sorts of tripe in his book about me.

I would like to know how things are with you, and if you are well. My wife and I send you our most cordial greetings, my dear friend.

V

From Vladimir Nabokov, Selected Letters 1940-1977. Edited by Dmitri Nabokov and Matthew J. Bruccoli. New York: Harcourt, Brace & Jovanovich, 1989

Full account of the bitter Nabokov-Field wars

Empty mirrors: Nabokov’s take on (auto)biography.