“Nabokov looked around him
at the changed city and wrote in English a brief sketch—now lost—of Paris at
war. He submitted it to leading British and American magazines such as the Spectator
and the Atlantic. Esquire thought it ‘poised, frequently distinguished
writing—but a prose poem,’ and like other journals, declined to publish.”
One would love to read
this prose poem, likely a document of literary and historical importance. That
year in Paris, Nabokov had written his final Russian short story, “Vasily
Shishkov.” He sent it to Mark Aldanov, who worked at Poslednie novosti (Latest
News) and was the other Russian émigré in Paris trying to support himself
exclusively through literary work. Aldanov replied: “It’s war! War! How can you
waste your time on such trifles?” He did, however, put Nabokov in contact with
Stanford University, which sought an instructor for a summer course in Russian literature
in 1940 or 1941. That lead to the Nabokovs sailing from St. Nazaire on May 19,
1940. They arrived in New York City eight days later. Paris fell to the Nazis
on June 14. On June 17, the Champlain, the ship that had carried the
family to the U.S., was sunk by a German torpedo on her way back to Europe.
In an interview he gave to
Novoe russkoe slovo (New Russian Word) in New York (collected in Think,
Write, Speak: Uncollected Essays, Reviews, Interviews, and Letters to the
Editor, 2019), published on June 23, 1940, Nabokov says:
“A few days ago I got a
letter from friends in Paris. They write that the house where I had been living
with my wife and son before we left had been hit by a bomb from a German plane
and was completely destroyed.”
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