Dag Solstad

He couldn’t imagine using the word ‘rewarding’ about a work of art – for instance that such and such a book has given me so much, taught me so much, etc etc. – but thought solely that it enlightened him, made him see, cynically and withough false expectations, so that he felt he was alive.

He couldn’t imagine using the word ‘rewarding’ about a work of art – for instance that such and such a book has given me so much, taught me so much, etc etc. – but thought solely that it enlightened him, made him see, cynically and withough false expectations, so that he felt he was alive.

– Dag Solstad –

Professor Andersen’s Night

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Vladimir Nabokov

Vladimir Nabokov“… one cannot read a book: one can only reread it. A good reader, a major reader, an active and creative reader is a rereader. And I shall tell you why. When we read a book for the first time the very process of laboriously moving our eyes from left to right, line after line, page after page, this complicated physical work upon the book, the very process of learning in terms of space and time what the book is about, this stands between us and artistic appreciation. When we look at a painting we do no have to move our eyes in a special way even if, as in a book, the picture contains elements of depth and development. The element of time does not really enter in a first contact with a painting. In reading a book, we must have time to acquaint ourselves with it. We have no physical organ (as we have the eye in regard to a painting) that takes in the whole picture and can enjoy its details. But at a second, or third, or fourth reading we do, in a sense, behave towards a book as we do towards a painting. However, let us not confuse the physical eye, that monstrous achievement of evolution, with the mind, an even more monstrous achievement. A book, no matter what it is – a work of fiction or a work of science (the boundary line between the two is not as clear as is generally believed) – a book of fiction appeals first of all to the mind. The mind, the brain, the top of the tingling spine, is, or should be, the only instrument used upon a book.” ― Vladimir Nabokov, Lectures on Literature

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