I finished Notes from the Underground. I didn't like it much. I'll have a little bit more to say about it later on in relation to Nabokov, as well as a note about the evolution of my tastes in fiction. One point: is it funny or sad that even Dostoevski's admirers (in this case, translator David Magarshack, in the introduction to the Modern Library paperback edition I have) refer to his "exasperatingly careless style"?
I look forward to getting back to Despair.
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