Patterns and Shapes: On Reading Nabokov and Henry Miller

Twenty-plus years of reading leads to a peculiar sense of awareness. Patterns begin to emerge that when in the midst of them seem to be simple shapes—at the present moment, this is a circle; now, a square; now, another square, shaded slightly darker. Time passes in those moments, but it isn’t really time passing, it’s my mind and my body, present in a reality composed of the reading of the moment. One day it’s Nabokov, another day it’s Henry Miller, and beyond the examinations and analyses of the present book and its relation to myself, there is simply the author and his book. But twenty years on, the patterns slowly resolve as one looks back with personal history and the events of book combining into design that resembles the spirit of thing. Onward!