The first day of school:
Vladimir Nabokov, Speak, Memory (1966).
This passage makes me recall with a laugh my first entry into a classroom as a teacher, of sorts. I was a graduate student, subbing for a professor on a Friday afternoon (gee, thanks). As I made my way into the room with book and notes and coffee, the pneumatic door began to close on me, and my coffee went all over the floor. I went off to get paper towels from a men’s room. And so began a class on Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
Related reading
All OCA Nabokov posts (Pinboard)
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
Nabokov at Cambridge
By Michael Leddy at 4:17 PM
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
comments: 0
Post a Comment
Play fair. Keep it clean. No potshots and no derailing. Thanks.
I moderate to keep out spam. Comments won’t appear at once, but they don’t disappear, so there’s no need to post a comment more than once.