Vladimir Nabokov. En memoria de L. I. Shigaev : Клуб изучающих испанский языкVladimir Nabokov. En memoria de L. I. Shigaev
Vladimir Nabokov. IN MEMORY OF L. I. SHIGAEV
when our correspondence somehow wilted and ceased, and life again crashed into deep darkness—a darkness howling with thousands of voices, from which it is unlikely I will ever escape—L.I., I know, kept thinking about me, questioning people, and trying to help indirectly. He left on a beautiful summer day; tears welled persistently in the eyes of some of those seeing him off; a myopic Jewish girl with white gloves and a lorgnette brought a whole sheaf of poppies and cornflowers; L.I. inexpertly sniffed them, smiling. Did it occur to me that I might be seeing him for the last time?
Of course it did. That is exactly what occurred to me: yes, I am seeing you for the last time; this, in