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The Tragedy of Mister Morn
Morn, a masked king, rules over a realm to which he has restored order after a violent revolution. Secretly in love with Midia, the wife of a banished revolutionary, Morn finds himself facing renewed bloodshed and disaster when Midia's husband returns, provoking a duel and the return of chaos that Morn has fought so hard to prevent.
The first major work and the only play of Vladimir Nabokov, author of Lolita and Pnin, The Tragedy of Mister Morn is translated and published in English here for the first time, and is a moving study of the elusiveness of happiness, the power of imagination and the eternal battle between truth and fantasy.
The first major work and the only play of Vladimir Nabokov, author of Lolita and Pnin, The Tragedy of Mister Morn is translated and published in English here for the first time, and is a moving study of the elusiveness of happiness, the power of imagination and the eternal battle between truth and fantasy.
171 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1924
24 people are currently reading
1094 people want to read
About the author
Vladimir Nabokov
894 books15k followersVladimir Nabokov (Russian: Владимир Набоков) was a writer defined by a life of forced movement and extraordinary linguistic transformation. Born into a wealthy, liberal aristocratic family in St. Petersburg, Russia, he grew up trilingual, speaking Russian, English, and French in a household that nurtured his intellectual curiosities, including a lifelong passion for butterflies. This seemingly idyllic, privileged existence was abruptly shattered by the Bolshevik Revolution, which forced the family into permanent exile in 1919. This early, profound experience of displacement and the loss of a homeland became a central, enduring theme in his subsequent work, fueling his exploration of memory, nostalgia, and the irretrievable past.
The first phase of his literary life began in Europe, primarily in Berlin, where he established himself as a leading voice among the Russian émigré community under the pseudonym "Vladimir Sirin". During this prolific period, he penned nine novels in his native tongue, showcasing a precocious talent for intricate plotting and character study. Works like The Defense explored obsession through the extended metaphor of chess, while Invitation to a Beheading served as a potent, surreal critique of totalitarian absurdity. In 1925, he married Véra Slonim, an intellectual force in her own right, who would become his indispensable partner, editor, translator, and lifelong anchor.
The escalating shadow of Nazism necessitated another, urgent relocation in 1940, this time to the United States. It was here that Nabokov undertook an extraordinary linguistic metamorphosis, making the challenging yet resolute shift from Russian to English as his primary language of expression. He became a U.S. citizen in 1945, solidifying his new life in North America. To support his family, he took on academic positions, first founding the Russian department at Wellesley College, and later serving as a highly regarded professor of Russian and European literature at Cornell University from 1948 to 1959.
During this academic tenure, he also dedicated significant time to his other great passion: lepidoptery. He worked as an unpaid curator of butterflies at Harvard University's Museum of Comparative Zoology. His scientific work was far from amateurish; he developed novel taxonomic methods and a groundbreaking, highly debated theory on the migration patterns and phylogeny of the Polyommatus blue butterflies, a hypothesis that modern DNA analysis confirmed decades later.
Nabokov achieved widespread international fame and financial independence with the publication of Lolita in 1955, a novel that was initially met with controversy and censorship battles due to its provocative subject matter concerning a middle-aged literature professor and his obsession with a twelve-year-old girl. The novel's critical and commercial success finally allowed him to leave teaching and academia behind. In 1959, he and Véra moved permanently to the quiet luxury of the Montreux Palace Hotel in Switzerland, where he focused solely on writing, translating his earlier Russian works into meticulous English, and studying local butterflies.
His later English novels, such as Pale Fire (1962), a complex, postmodern narrative structured around a 999-line poem and its delusional commentator, cemented his reputation as a master stylist and a technical genius. His literary style is characterized by intricate wordplay, a profound use of allusion, structural complexity, and an insistence on the artist's total, almost tyrannical, control over their created world. Nabokov often expressed disdain for what he termed "topical trash" and the simplistic interpretations of Freudian psychoanalysis, preferring instead to focus on the power of individual consciousness, the mechanics of memory, and the intricate, often deceptive, interplay between art and perceived "reality". His unique body of work, straddling multiple cultures and languages, continues to
The first phase of his literary life began in Europe, primarily in Berlin, where he established himself as a leading voice among the Russian émigré community under the pseudonym "Vladimir Sirin". During this prolific period, he penned nine novels in his native tongue, showcasing a precocious talent for intricate plotting and character study. Works like The Defense explored obsession through the extended metaphor of chess, while Invitation to a Beheading served as a potent, surreal critique of totalitarian absurdity. In 1925, he married Véra Slonim, an intellectual force in her own right, who would become his indispensable partner, editor, translator, and lifelong anchor.
The escalating shadow of Nazism necessitated another, urgent relocation in 1940, this time to the United States. It was here that Nabokov undertook an extraordinary linguistic metamorphosis, making the challenging yet resolute shift from Russian to English as his primary language of expression. He became a U.S. citizen in 1945, solidifying his new life in North America. To support his family, he took on academic positions, first founding the Russian department at Wellesley College, and later serving as a highly regarded professor of Russian and European literature at Cornell University from 1948 to 1959.
During this academic tenure, he also dedicated significant time to his other great passion: lepidoptery. He worked as an unpaid curator of butterflies at Harvard University's Museum of Comparative Zoology. His scientific work was far from amateurish; he developed novel taxonomic methods and a groundbreaking, highly debated theory on the migration patterns and phylogeny of the Polyommatus blue butterflies, a hypothesis that modern DNA analysis confirmed decades later.
Nabokov achieved widespread international fame and financial independence with the publication of Lolita in 1955, a novel that was initially met with controversy and censorship battles due to its provocative subject matter concerning a middle-aged literature professor and his obsession with a twelve-year-old girl. The novel's critical and commercial success finally allowed him to leave teaching and academia behind. In 1959, he and Véra moved permanently to the quiet luxury of the Montreux Palace Hotel in Switzerland, where he focused solely on writing, translating his earlier Russian works into meticulous English, and studying local butterflies.
His later English novels, such as Pale Fire (1962), a complex, postmodern narrative structured around a 999-line poem and its delusional commentator, cemented his reputation as a master stylist and a technical genius. His literary style is characterized by intricate wordplay, a profound use of allusion, structural complexity, and an insistence on the artist's total, almost tyrannical, control over their created world. Nabokov often expressed disdain for what he termed "topical trash" and the simplistic interpretations of Freudian psychoanalysis, preferring instead to focus on the power of individual consciousness, the mechanics of memory, and the intricate, often deceptive, interplay between art and perceived "reality". His unique body of work, straddling multiple cultures and languages, continues to
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March 19, 2016
Bae did it again. <3
January 19, 2014
I lied, Goodreads. I've been "currently-reading" this for about three weeks; actually, I started it yesterday and finished it in about three hours.
Having come off of a lackluster reading year in 2013, the opening line of the introduction alone was enough to make me tingle oh-so-slightly with excitement: "The Tragedy of Mister Morn was Vladimir Nabokov's first major work, and the laboratory in which he discovered and tested many of the themes he would subsequently develop in the next fifty-odd years" (vii). Surely this would be enough to evoke fond memories of reading most of Nabokov's canon over the past five years! Surely this would be enough to get me out of my reading slump and to begin the reading year of 2014 on a positive note: especially because of "its exploration of the twin themes of happiness and make-believe...[and central idea] that any reality worth caring about is one freshly imagined" (xi). Hooray for fiction!
The actual play isn't anything great and doesn't "WOW" me with language that way that I remember most of VN's writing doing. Tremens, an almost cartoon-like representation of evil incarnate, thrives--quite literally--on death, destruction, and chaos. After leading a failed coup four year ago, Grinch-like suffers in self-imposed solitude loathing the happiness and success that the mystery king has brought to society. His foil, the gregarious, carefree king escapes the burdens of the crown by shrouding his rule, and his identity, in anonymity. There is a love story involved. There is conflict. There is a resolution...sort of.
Most of the joy for me came in discovering allusions--and precursors, really--to other works. There is the obvious Othello reference, but the less obvious way that Nabokov deliberately inverts how the jealousy is handled. Later, well after anything Othello, has been mentioned, a handkerchief suddenly becomes an object of import. Plus, just as Iago's words in the first scene--"I am not what I am"--are echoed by most major characters in that play, they could be applied to numerous characters in this one. The almost invisible threads Nabokov sews beneath the surface!
And now the ideas, however brief here, to be later developed by the masterful mind of this mastermind of literature:
-"you were still living yet / already incorporeal. Then you became / transparent, kind of a familiar ghost; / and finally, faint and translucent, you left" (46). Transparent Things! 1972.
-"Ah, to go there, to go into that picture, / into the reverie of its green, airy colours" (59). The Gift! 1937.
-"Only / splinters remain...splinters! He...Klian... / O, God...Don't touch me! Leave me...I am sticky... / I am drenched in cold pain. Lies! Lies! / Surely this cannot be what they call bliss. / It's death, not bliss! My soul has been brushed / by the coffin lid...pinched...it hurts..." (66-7). Any novel with a pretty frank depiction of sex.
-"have we stolen after midnight / by the secret passages, into my palace...Light / a candle"; "I'll disappear, / I'll quietly live out the rest of my strange life / to the secret tune of my royal memories" (69, 76) says the king of a fantasy kingdom (Zembla?!). Pale Fire! 1962.
-"there's nothing stronger than a dream" (91) as just one of countless examples of the motif of dreaming, sleeplessness, and the characters' almost-consciousness that they are in a fiction. Bend Sinister! 1947.
And my ultimate favorite since it links the incomplete work at the beginning of his career and the incomplete novel at the end of his career:
-"the wondrous cold and fire / of tormenting illness across my country: / deathly revolts; hollow destruction; / bliss; emptiness; non-existence" (20). The Original of Laura! 1977.
Of course this makes me wish I could remember every sentence of every Nabokov book I've read. Hell, I'd settle for even remembering every Nabokov book I've read. Not being able to recall whether I've read King, Queen, Knave, I grabbed it off my shelf and opened to a random page. Damn--there were my annotations. Coincidentally, the page on the page I opened to, the word "dream" was circled twice, suggesting that it must be a theme I was tracing in that book as well.
So where do I go from here? First, to read some of my old reviews of Nabokov novels to remind me what I experienced while reading them. Second, to read the rest of the introduction to this book, which I skipped due to fear of spoilers. Finally, on to Glory, what I believe to be the only Nabokov novel I have not yet read.
And so "any reality worth caring about is one freshly imagined."
Having come off of a lackluster reading year in 2013, the opening line of the introduction alone was enough to make me tingle oh-so-slightly with excitement: "The Tragedy of Mister Morn was Vladimir Nabokov's first major work, and the laboratory in which he discovered and tested many of the themes he would subsequently develop in the next fifty-odd years" (vii). Surely this would be enough to evoke fond memories of reading most of Nabokov's canon over the past five years! Surely this would be enough to get me out of my reading slump and to begin the reading year of 2014 on a positive note: especially because of "its exploration of the twin themes of happiness and make-believe...[and central idea] that any reality worth caring about is one freshly imagined" (xi). Hooray for fiction!
The actual play isn't anything great and doesn't "WOW" me with language that way that I remember most of VN's writing doing. Tremens, an almost cartoon-like representation of evil incarnate, thrives--quite literally--on death, destruction, and chaos. After leading a failed coup four year ago, Grinch-like suffers in self-imposed solitude loathing the happiness and success that the mystery king has brought to society. His foil, the gregarious, carefree king escapes the burdens of the crown by shrouding his rule, and his identity, in anonymity. There is a love story involved. There is conflict. There is a resolution...sort of.
Most of the joy for me came in discovering allusions--and precursors, really--to other works. There is the obvious Othello reference, but the less obvious way that Nabokov deliberately inverts how the jealousy is handled. Later, well after anything Othello, has been mentioned, a handkerchief suddenly becomes an object of import. Plus, just as Iago's words in the first scene--"I am not what I am"--are echoed by most major characters in that play, they could be applied to numerous characters in this one. The almost invisible threads Nabokov sews beneath the surface!
And now the ideas, however brief here, to be later developed by the masterful mind of this mastermind of literature:
-"you were still living yet / already incorporeal. Then you became / transparent, kind of a familiar ghost; / and finally, faint and translucent, you left" (46). Transparent Things! 1972.
-"Ah, to go there, to go into that picture, / into the reverie of its green, airy colours" (59). The Gift! 1937.
-"Only / splinters remain...splinters! He...Klian... / O, God...Don't touch me! Leave me...I am sticky... / I am drenched in cold pain. Lies! Lies! / Surely this cannot be what they call bliss. / It's death, not bliss! My soul has been brushed / by the coffin lid...pinched...it hurts..." (66-7). Any novel with a pretty frank depiction of sex.
-"have we stolen after midnight / by the secret passages, into my palace...Light / a candle"; "I'll disappear, / I'll quietly live out the rest of my strange life / to the secret tune of my royal memories" (69, 76) says the king of a fantasy kingdom (Zembla?!). Pale Fire! 1962.
-"there's nothing stronger than a dream" (91) as just one of countless examples of the motif of dreaming, sleeplessness, and the characters' almost-consciousness that they are in a fiction. Bend Sinister! 1947.
And my ultimate favorite since it links the incomplete work at the beginning of his career and the incomplete novel at the end of his career:
-"the wondrous cold and fire / of tormenting illness across my country: / deathly revolts; hollow destruction; / bliss; emptiness; non-existence" (20). The Original of Laura! 1977.
Of course this makes me wish I could remember every sentence of every Nabokov book I've read. Hell, I'd settle for even remembering every Nabokov book I've read. Not being able to recall whether I've read King, Queen, Knave, I grabbed it off my shelf and opened to a random page. Damn--there were my annotations. Coincidentally, the page on the page I opened to, the word "dream" was circled twice, suggesting that it must be a theme I was tracing in that book as well.
So where do I go from here? First, to read some of my old reviews of Nabokov novels to remind me what I experienced while reading them. Second, to read the rest of the introduction to this book, which I skipped due to fear of spoilers. Finally, on to Glory, what I believe to be the only Nabokov novel I have not yet read.
And so "any reality worth caring about is one freshly imagined."
Want to read
November 10, 2017Just bought this for $6 at a discount bookstore. Am I the only one who has never heard of this particular Nabokov before?
August 10, 2023
It’s not without its greatness and showcases Nabakov’s flair for the surreal that he dips in and out of using in his larger works but it’s still a young man mashing together his influences to try and piece together how he’s feeling about the world and not really showcasing his own voice. If I could be glib for a second it’s not unlike Scorsese doing Boxcar Bertha or PTA doing Hard Eight. A tight exercise and shakespeare matters and continues to set the templates writers follow for a reason.
June 15, 2023
Three and a half stars.
My first Nabokov! And one of the very few works I've read from a Russian author.
The play came across more surrealistically than I would prefer.
Beautiful use of language, the translators did wonderful work.
MORN:
I have been left with only these roses here:
their crumpled edges slightly touched with
tender mildew, and in the tall vase the water
smells of rot, of death, as it does
under ancient bridges. I am stirred, roses,
by your honeyed decay . . . You need fresh water.
My first Nabokov! And one of the very few works I've read from a Russian author.
The play came across more surrealistically than I would prefer.
Beautiful use of language, the translators did wonderful work.
MORN:
I have been left with only these roses here:
their crumpled edges slightly touched with
tender mildew, and in the tall vase the water
smells of rot, of death, as it does
under ancient bridges. I am stirred, roses,
by your honeyed decay . . . You need fresh water.
July 29, 2023
3.5 prob. This Nabokov fellow has a bright future ahead of him if he can stop taking on his influences too much.
July 26, 2023
This is a fascinating experiment. I’m not even sure it is finished. It feels like a good, but not final, draft that would greatly benefit from some more work. Although it is far from being a “good” play, there is a kernel of greatness in its experimental language and storytelling. There is a weirdness that makes it rather compelling.
The play is about a (fairy tale) kingdom built on a fiction – a fiction that the kingdom is ruled by a benevolent king. When that’s found to be false, nihilistic forces of revolution destroy the kingdom. Mr. Morn, the King, is the most interesting character in the play with his playful, poetic style. But Tremens, Dandilio, Klian and Ella are lively. Ganus and Midia are a little flat to me.
The play, though rich in language and innovation, does have many weaknesses. Although it is a rather fantastical tale, Nabokov presents it in a straightforward, naturalistic narrative that conflicts with the whimsical storyline and the poetic language. The absurdity and humor is hemmed in by an otherwise realistic, chronicle presentation of the story.
I think the play is also marred by the absurdity of the duel resolved by playing cards. This is hard to overlook since it is at the heart of the play. This contributes to the rather flat end. In a play in which fantasy is as potent as reality, Morn seems unusually interested in the truth at the end.
The play also seems to grab at too many strings, and we are left with many loose ends at the end. For example, is Nabokov saying that the best form of government is a king that doesn’t rule? (Anarchist? Libertarian?) Does the foreigner represent the playwright? Is this all a dream? A play within a play? What happens to Midia at the end?
Having listed all these complaints, there is some magic in the play and it is compelling reading. If you are interested in verse drama, interesting uses of language in plays, or interested in Nabokov, this is a worthwhile and rewarding read.
The play is about a (fairy tale) kingdom built on a fiction – a fiction that the kingdom is ruled by a benevolent king. When that’s found to be false, nihilistic forces of revolution destroy the kingdom. Mr. Morn, the King, is the most interesting character in the play with his playful, poetic style. But Tremens, Dandilio, Klian and Ella are lively. Ganus and Midia are a little flat to me.
The play, though rich in language and innovation, does have many weaknesses. Although it is a rather fantastical tale, Nabokov presents it in a straightforward, naturalistic narrative that conflicts with the whimsical storyline and the poetic language. The absurdity and humor is hemmed in by an otherwise realistic, chronicle presentation of the story.
I think the play is also marred by the absurdity of the duel resolved by playing cards. This is hard to overlook since it is at the heart of the play. This contributes to the rather flat end. In a play in which fantasy is as potent as reality, Morn seems unusually interested in the truth at the end.
The play also seems to grab at too many strings, and we are left with many loose ends at the end. For example, is Nabokov saying that the best form of government is a king that doesn’t rule? (Anarchist? Libertarian?) Does the foreigner represent the playwright? Is this all a dream? A play within a play? What happens to Midia at the end?
Having listed all these complaints, there is some magic in the play and it is compelling reading. If you are interested in verse drama, interesting uses of language in plays, or interested in Nabokov, this is a worthwhile and rewarding read.
November 2, 2015
This is a newly republished/retranslated version of Nabokov's first play, written when he was only 24. The verse, characters, and content are very Shakespearean - there is a tone of both tragedy and comedy, playfulness and seriousness, dripping from every verse. I was able to tank through this play in a few hours. Having been embarrassingly baffled by many of Nabokov's metaphors, layers, and allusions in other works, I was pleasantly surprised to feel like I was "catching" most of his literary tricks and references in this early piece. The hysteria written into every line is a little exhausting, and I find myself wishing that this storyline had been developed into a novel so that I could get more into the characters heads and past their endless exclamation points and fragmented speech. However, while I have not read all that many of Nabokov's major works, it sounds like Mr. Morn may have been a testing ground for some of the characters and themes that are essential in his more famous stories. So, I will be eagerly looking out for hints of Morn as I continue through Nabokov's works!
January 29, 2015
Probably my favorite of N's plays, which came as a surprise given how early in his artistic development it was written. It's a shame that it's missing a significant chunk of the last act (which the book jacket fails to warn you about), but what's here is generally very good, sprinkled with greatness. Like The Waltz Invention, it's somewhat surrealistic. In the first act's party scene (by far my favorite), a character wanders through who is dreaming that he is in the play and keeps disappearing and reappearing. Characters talk in exaggerated screeds about their overwrought philosophies. But unlike a Writer of Ideas, N uses this not as a mouthpiece for his own views or as an allegory, but rather as a chance to give these ideas poetic voice and to play with their absurdity and (sometimes) their beauty.
I used Brian Boyd's write-up of the play in the first volume of his N biography as a supplemental text, as it gives a good summary of the missing portions (which come from N's notes), something I wish had been included with the play.
I used Brian Boyd's write-up of the play in the first volume of his N biography as a supplemental text, as it gives a good summary of the missing portions (which come from N's notes), something I wish had been included with the play.
April 25, 2016
I am a huge fan of Nabokov; I would consider him my favorite author. But this book just did not do it for me. I certainly enjoy his novels more than his short stories, and now I can firmly say that I'm not a huge fan of his only play. I believe that Nabokov books need time to develop, and this felt rushed from the beginning, both in story and character development. For such a short piece, I kind of couldn't wait to finish it. The language is typically beautiful and clever, but there's simply not enough here for me to rank it with his other works. Certainly I've set the bar too high for Nabokov, but that's what makes him Nabokov.
April 20, 2018
Vladimir Nabokov was both a very expansive writer and one who had a few themes that he liked to tackle in his writing over and over again [1]. He is someone whose writing crosses over many genres, from poetry to short stories to novels to this, his only full-length play. The title of the play gives one the genre. This play, like many of Nabokov's writings, is a tragic one, and that makes sense given both the personal politics and larger politics of Nabokov's oeuvre as a whole as well as in this play in particular. In this play the dramatist explores the politics of the Russian revolution, connecting the Communists who took over Russia in 1917 with the nihilists of the previous century and tying together the decadence and cowardice of the late Romanov czars with his longstanding interests in sexual desire and the tension between fantasy and reality. The fact that this play was unknown and unpublished until the early 20th century when it was written nearly a century ago is astounding, and a reminder that the full body of work of even the most important authors is a hard thing to find given the vagaries of publishing.
The Tragedy of Morn is a powerful, if somewhat fragmentary (some of the lines are missing) and somewhat obscure play. The play is written as a five act Shakespearean tragedy of similar depth to Shakespeare's political tragedies. At the center of the play we have Morn, an imposter who rules because he is able to inspire the imaginations of his hearers, even if he disclaims being a poet, along with various other people. These include the secretive and feverish revolutionary Tremens, his beautiful daughter Ella, the escaped Siberian exile Ganus, whose wife Midia first falls in love with Morn and then with his loyal advisor Edmin, the creative and doomed Dandilio and an ominous and knowledgeable foreigner. Morn finds himself losing his kingdom due to his cowardice but then retrieves the regard of the people with casting his fall as a fall for love even as the people show themselves sick of the revolutionaries and desirous of a more just and less violent social order, with intriguing consequences. The play itself is one that could easily be staged and is certainly a very worthwhile one to read, even long after it was written and even being a very early Nabokov work from the mid 1920's.
How then, if this book is so worthwhile, did it manage to get lost and forgotten for so long? For one, the work was the first lengthy work by Nabokov, who at the time this play was written was still a nobody writing the occasional poem published in emigre magazines for a small Russian exile audience in London and Berlin and other European cities. For another, plays are not a particularly popular genre of literature and it is unlikely that the publishing houses available to him at the time were enthusiastic about the poor profits that would result from publishing a drama from an unknown writer. Of course, by the time Nabokov was well-known and well-regarded he had moved beyond drama to lengthy and complicated novels in Russian and English and probably did not consider the play to be worth publishing for him as a work of his youth. And so the book languished in manuscript until it was serendipitously found, published, and translated. Those who appreciate Shakespearean drama and a fair amount of wit and skill in dialogue set in the Russia of the early 20th century wrestling with Nabokov's usual heady themes will find much to enjoy here.
[1] See, for example:
https://edgeinducedcohesion.blog/2016...
https://edgeinducedcohesion.blog/2012...
https://edgeinducedcohesion.blog/2016...
The Tragedy of Morn is a powerful, if somewhat fragmentary (some of the lines are missing) and somewhat obscure play. The play is written as a five act Shakespearean tragedy of similar depth to Shakespeare's political tragedies. At the center of the play we have Morn, an imposter who rules because he is able to inspire the imaginations of his hearers, even if he disclaims being a poet, along with various other people. These include the secretive and feverish revolutionary Tremens, his beautiful daughter Ella, the escaped Siberian exile Ganus, whose wife Midia first falls in love with Morn and then with his loyal advisor Edmin, the creative and doomed Dandilio and an ominous and knowledgeable foreigner. Morn finds himself losing his kingdom due to his cowardice but then retrieves the regard of the people with casting his fall as a fall for love even as the people show themselves sick of the revolutionaries and desirous of a more just and less violent social order, with intriguing consequences. The play itself is one that could easily be staged and is certainly a very worthwhile one to read, even long after it was written and even being a very early Nabokov work from the mid 1920's.
How then, if this book is so worthwhile, did it manage to get lost and forgotten for so long? For one, the work was the first lengthy work by Nabokov, who at the time this play was written was still a nobody writing the occasional poem published in emigre magazines for a small Russian exile audience in London and Berlin and other European cities. For another, plays are not a particularly popular genre of literature and it is unlikely that the publishing houses available to him at the time were enthusiastic about the poor profits that would result from publishing a drama from an unknown writer. Of course, by the time Nabokov was well-known and well-regarded he had moved beyond drama to lengthy and complicated novels in Russian and English and probably did not consider the play to be worth publishing for him as a work of his youth. And so the book languished in manuscript until it was serendipitously found, published, and translated. Those who appreciate Shakespearean drama and a fair amount of wit and skill in dialogue set in the Russia of the early 20th century wrestling with Nabokov's usual heady themes will find much to enjoy here.
[1] See, for example:
https://edgeinducedcohesion.blog/2016...
https://edgeinducedcohesion.blog/2012...
https://edgeinducedcohesion.blog/2016...
May 21, 2025
I can see why Nabokov didn't want this published.
Throughout the play, you can see glints of Nabokov's beautiful prose, but delivered entirely through dialogue, it renders scenes strange, confusing, and unnatural. Nearly half the lines trail off in ellipses, and supposedly Shakespearean monologues hold none of Shakespeare's charm, and further confuse the reader rather than elucidating them to plot lines or emotions. It's a very juvenile work that I can't imagine would perform well on stage. I think the effort to publish every piece of work a writer composed posthumously fails to consider why an author wouldn't want certain pieces out there. The Tragedy of Mister Morn, in its unfinished unpolished state, should have been left in the archives.
Throughout the play, you can see glints of Nabokov's beautiful prose, but delivered entirely through dialogue, it renders scenes strange, confusing, and unnatural. Nearly half the lines trail off in ellipses, and supposedly Shakespearean monologues hold none of Shakespeare's charm, and further confuse the reader rather than elucidating them to plot lines or emotions. It's a very juvenile work that I can't imagine would perform well on stage. I think the effort to publish every piece of work a writer composed posthumously fails to consider why an author wouldn't want certain pieces out there. The Tragedy of Mister Morn, in its unfinished unpolished state, should have been left in the archives.
February 26, 2018
i have an interesting relationship with nabokov, but i am so glad i picked up this play on a whim. it's tragic *duh* but beautifully so, delicate even. it's themes are apparent, though i felt never fully resolved, perhaps due to missing/lost excerpts towards the end of act v. nabokov's exploration of the idea(l)s of happiness, love/lust, and fantasy vs reality are at work simultaneously. i did find the fantasy bit not much my taste, but his struggle, and the character's struggles, with happiness and love were potent and moving. there are some gorgeous poetic lines and i found the characters to be well-formed and the play, overall, to be well structured.
April 16, 2020
I have never read Nobokov before, and I am in love!
This is Nobokov's first play that was never published during his life time.
There are strong hints of influences on Nabokov of Shakespeare, Nihilism, Existentialism, and the Russian Revolution of Lenin and the Bolsheviks.
Observe, how Mr. Morn describes the roses on a table in a scene:
"Oh, you poor things...breathe, flame up...
You resemble love. You were made
for similes; it is not for nothing that from
the first days of the universe there has flowed
through your petals the blood of Apollo..."
Highly recommended.
This is Nobokov's first play that was never published during his life time.
There are strong hints of influences on Nabokov of Shakespeare, Nihilism, Existentialism, and the Russian Revolution of Lenin and the Bolsheviks.
Observe, how Mr. Morn describes the roses on a table in a scene:
"Oh, you poor things...breathe, flame up...
You resemble love. You were made
for similes; it is not for nothing that from
the first days of the universe there has flowed
through your petals the blood of Apollo..."
Highly recommended.
August 6, 2025
Aunque es la narrativa la que ha colocado a Nabokov en la élite literaria, su faceta como dramaturgo también merece especial atención. Tragedia del señor Morn se publicó en la revista Zvezdá en 1997 de forma póstuma, y es uno de los ejemplos más destacados de su incursión en el teatro. En ella se explora el conflicto entre el rey y un líder rebelde, que pretende derrocarlo. La huella de Shakespeare se percibe claramente en la forma en la que el ansia de poder y los dilemas existenciales determinan el destino de sus personajes.
July 27, 2017
I suspect that it may have been more than oversight, which caused Nabokov to neglect translating this play into English. Still I haven’t read many plays since finishing my first undergraduate degree, and the play’s failings may be more accurately ascribed to my own limited imagination. The work does contain occasional glimpses into what Nabokov’s prose would become, but not more than I might expect in comparable juvenilia.
December 23, 2019
Like if Pirandello and Shakespeare wrote a play together over a weekend. I liked the end (spoiler alert I guess):
"The stupefied mob does not know that the knight's body is dark and sweaty, locked in its fairy-tale armor. They do not know that the poor Eastern bride is barely alive beneath her tasselled weight, but across the sea the wandering troubadours will sing of a fairy-tale love, will tell lies to the ages, their fingers barely touching the sheep sinews--and dirt becomes a dream!"
"The stupefied mob does not know that the knight's body is dark and sweaty, locked in its fairy-tale armor. They do not know that the poor Eastern bride is barely alive beneath her tasselled weight, but across the sea the wandering troubadours will sing of a fairy-tale love, will tell lies to the ages, their fingers barely touching the sheep sinews--and dirt becomes a dream!"
January 21, 2019
Nabokov crafts a beautiful, if a bit immature, piece at an astonishingly young age. To have created the opening passage at just 24 years old is both remarkable and depressing - since I'm 25 and couldn't possible hold a candle to his genius.
Fascinating, fun, and truly momentous. Highly recommend.
Fascinating, fun, and truly momentous. Highly recommend.
November 8, 2019
Flashes of the writer Nabokov would become. It's a neat piece of work by the translators, bringing the play to life in English by using Nabokov's own later works in English as a guide for how he might have written this. It's also got some of the air of dreamy fantasy and amusingly brusque humor I associate with him. Not sure it would be thrilling on stage, but might be fun to try!
August 25, 2021
This was an exciting rediscovery for the world us fans. You read it expecting it to be mature because his works have scrutinized over and over, but this is a voyage of his early development and requires old wines in new bottles. At any rate it is challenging for a different reason all together. It reads a lot like theater of the absurd--think Pirandello. A great experience.
July 6, 2022
Se lee con la agilidad característica del teatro. Los personajes entrelazan sus historias hasta conformar lo que los expertos denominan "tragedia de la felicidad". Los enredos amorosos entre los personajes y los toques de rebelión política dan a la obra un estilo cercano que te hace querer seguir leyendo.
April 19, 2023
The Tragedy Of Mister Morn is Nabokov’s sole journey into the realm of theater. Written when he was only 24 years old Nabokov puts writers many years his senior to shame and paints a rich Shakespearean tapestry.
“Though I have fallen in love with twilight, I must live on and suffer the strings of life…”
“Though I have fallen in love with twilight, I must live on and suffer the strings of life…”
July 10, 2023
very interesting play, written in Shakespearean verse so of course it was up my alley. there’s a lot of russian history that informs it which i don’t know a ton about so i’d love to read this again after i’ve learned more russian history. it was captivating though, and the language is beautiful. i love verse, always will.
January 1, 2025
An interesting story that could be made better had it been more fleshed out. I’d like to see this expanded into a novel, actual stage performance, film, or all of the above. I just feel like there’s more to do with this than Nabokov wrote. Which might make sense as to why he didn’t publish it while alive.
August 5, 2018
Honestly this is so perfect...
The way and the structure Nabokov has to manipulate the story and your feelings as a reader are insane!
The passion, the drama and the tragedy... The romance!
This is my kind of book ...
I enjoyed it so much
The way and the structure Nabokov has to manipulate the story and your feelings as a reader are insane!
The passion, the drama and the tragedy... The romance!
This is my kind of book ...
I enjoyed it so much
Read
March 12, 2020While the story itself isn't the most interesting, the language is beautiful and I was intrigued with how the stage directions were only apparent through the dialogue.
The afterword notes that Nabokov reused some of the themes in his later fiction works, and makes suggestions for further reading.
The afterword notes that Nabokov reused some of the themes in his later fiction works, and makes suggestions for further reading.
Read
December 1, 2023First play I read. I generally enjoyed it and the themes it explored. Due to missing texts from the original, the themes do feel incomplete. Introduction gives a good breakdown of Nabokov's other works that pick up these themes. Will probably try to read them
July 29, 2022
Definitely need to do a reread - and to read more Nabokov (but never Lolita thanks)
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