This month for book club we read Mary by Vladimir Nabokov (although when it was first published he was going by the pen name V. Sirin). It's a short memoir of a displaced Russian man living in a German boarding house. With age he's developed in to a cold and introverted character but he becomes flooded with emotion again when he starts to reminisce about his first, youthful love, Mary. I won't say too much as it such a small novel with an interesting and discussion-worthy twist at the end. It relies heavily on suspense and anticipation in a similar way to Ian McEwan's On Chesil Beach which is to say it's a pleasure to read but you get quite desperate for the conclusion so you can be put out of your anxious misery. Or is that just me?
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