Pniniad: Vladimir Nabokov and Marc Szeftel

by Galya Diment

In this wry, judiciously balanced, and thoroughly engaging book, Galya Diment explores the complicated and fascinating relationship between Vladimir Nabokov and his Cornell colleague Marc Szeftel who, in the estimate of many, served as the prototype for the gentle protagonist of the novel Pnin . She offers astute comments on Nabokov's fictional process in creating Timofey Pnin and addresses hotly debated questions and long-standing riddles in Pnin and its history.

Galya Diment is professor of Slavic Languages and Literatures and Thomas L. & Margo G. Wyckoff Endowed Faculty Fellow at the University of Washington, Seattle. She is the author, most recently, of A Russian Jew of Bloomsbury (2011).

Genres: Nonfiction, History

256 pages, Hardcover

First published October 1, 1997

Reviews

[m. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Though he died before I was born, Marc Szeftel was a relative of mine -- one who, I regret to say, failed to endear himself to my grandfather (who is quoted early on offering an other-than-favorable opinion). This book has been making the rounds through my family since it was published, in large part because it's one of the few pieces of direct evidence we have of the time our family spent in Russia and Belgium before emigrating. So it was bound to be fascinating to me.

I also enjoyed the glimpse of Nabokov as a human being rather than solely as a literary giant -- and the academia drama, which is always hilarious.

As an aside, Pniniad reminded me of the Israeli film Footnote, which features similar themes of academic jealousy and feelings of failure.

[Brent Legault · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a mildly interesting book about a mostly boring person. Marc Szeftel was perhaps a good, if not prolific, scholar. But as a person or a personality and especially as a creative force, he was nothing special. It's a little sad to realize that the only reason his life is in print at all is because of his proximity to Nabokov (whom he was obsessed with as his private journals show). Unfortunately, Szeftel didn't have anything worthwhile to say about his colleague (it was mostly career and life envy) and we unlucky readers don't much benefit from reading his words.

That he served as a model for Pnin (Nabokov's squirrelliest novel) is unmistakable as the author makes very clear. For that, he has earned a place in literary history. But, as for recommending this book, there's no there there except for the Nabokovian nuts like myself or, like the only other person to have reviewed this book, for family members of Marc Szeftel himself.