And here’s that passage in Pnin that must now be read with ubi-sunt awareness:
“With the help of the janitor he screwed onto the side of the desk a pencil sharpener — that highly satisfying, highly philosophical instrument that goes ticonderoga-ticonderoga, feeding on the yellow finish and sweet wood, and ends up in a kind of soundlessly spinning ethereal void as we all must.”
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One Response
You think he thought of Mira Belochkina? Anyway, books are disappearing too.