This is a collation of my thoughts on the pre-eminent Nabokov scholar Brian Boyd’s approach to literary criticism, particularly with regard to Ada – likely Nabokov’s least appreciated work.
I wrote this up as part of the discussion of Ada and Boyd in relation to Michael Wood on the ilxor forums, here. These discussions are lively and wide-ranging, and I enjoyed the diverse takes and frustrations expressed about Ada – some of which I share.
I have found Boyd’s work immensely useful in deepening my appreciation for Nabokov, and so I did want to write something of a defence of Boyd’s approach. I argue here that his project is rather unusual in the world of lit crit: an almost scientific empiricism, which well suits his subjects (Nabokov, Popper, and … Dr. Seuss?).
I’d still contend that Boyd remains the most useful critic for understanding Nabokov, for getting the most out of the incredible richness of his designs (too rich, likely, in Ada) and for real aesthetic joy in his work.
Critical mass
With regard to the idea that Boyd is a Nabokov fan, and this limits his usefulness as a critic:
The argument is that Boyd lacks “critical distance” or is somehow in thrall to Nabokov.
But I think Boyd is doing something a little different from Wood and other critics. I have enormous time for Wood and The Magicians Doubts, but I think it’s a partial view of Nabokov underwritten by some of Wood’s theoretical commitments: namely the primacy of a moral view of suffering and pity, and the division between signature and style. The former is definitely an important strand in Nabokov: this is essentially the theme of Pnin – but it’s not the only one and I think it leads Wood to over-emphasize what he can take to fit this theory in novels like Bend Sinister.
Boyd shares some of my frustration with apriorism and theory in literary criticism. He is almost an empiricist.
There exist far worse theoretical frameworks to use to look at Nabokov, and I really like where Wood goes with it. But I think Boyd shares some of my frustration with apriorism and theory in literary criticism. Boyd is almost an empiricist. He wants to delve deeper and deeper, with evidence, on what he can observe going on in the novels and how they work: aesthetically, structurally, and morally. He’s not afraid to pull in outside evidence, including the author’s later assertions. He is not interested in elevating the critic above the work, insisting on the death of the author, or any of the theoretical apparatus which – in my view – have a purpose in the economy of academic criticism but are deadening to anyone outside that world.
Come and see
This empiricism is sometimes quite striking. In The Magic of Artistic Discovery Boyd entirely changes his interpretation of Pale Fire (from the “Shadean” position, where Shade is the author of the commentary, to one where there is genuine influence from Shade and others beyond the grave) based upon genuinely new findings in the text. And this was a “discovery” – the internal evidence hadn’t been noticed before and is actually pretty compelling.
Boyd also argues strongly that we know Kinbote kills himself at the end of Pale Fire, and this is the final piece of understanding the novel – there is much pointing to this in the text, but he is happy to admit Nabokov’s insistence outside of it as well. In contrast, Wood dismisses this as “authorial trespassing”. I’m inclined to see that view as an expression of the critics worldview, rather than a way of understanding the novel.
It might not be surprising that this old scientist prefers an empirical sort of criticism. Nor that Boyd has also written books on Karl Popper and evolutionary biology. Boyd’s obsessive annotation of Ada over 20 years (still ongoing!) is also testament to this.
In my experience the English department are rather lousy philosophers anyway who have something of a tendency to become hypnotised by trivial and often old-hat ideas
I do not take very seriously objections that empiricism in itself involves a priori commitment, or is itself a form of theory, or psychological resistance to some supposed principle that some theorist has “demonstrated” and so is subsumed by theory. These sorts of totalising closed systems, where you insist your opponents aren’t just wrong in this case or misguided but that even trying is somehow ontologically incoherent (or maybe just wicked!) tend to be much less intellectually durable than their proponents make them out to be: they certainly get thrown out every decade or so.
In my experience the English department are lousy philosophers anyway who have a bit of a tendency to become hypnotised by rather trivial and often old-hat ideas: I don’t think there’s anything wrong with their dabbling in philosophy, sociology, politics etc per se, but I consider it dilettantism (ironic coming from me) – and I don’t really understand why they bother.
My view is that if you can’t find space somewhere for this kind of empiricist approach without ruling it invalid tout court some sort of dogmatism has crept in.
Closer
What this means is Boyd is a close reader. Now why would he choose to read Nabokov so closely? Because he is already sold on Nabokov’s artistic genius. No other word will do.
That is the impulse that came first, and nothing will undo it: his is a labour of love and rapture.
Unlike most of us (I think) who come to Nabokov through the American novels – Lo and Pnin and Pale Fire – Boyd came to Nabokov through Ada: his doctoral thesis (published under Ada: The Place of Consciousness) was entirely on Ada. And let’s face it, if you are all in on Ada, then the mature work will sell itself. As an aside, I think this is why Boyd is quite skimpy on the early Russian works (The Defence excepted) as they’re the most distant from the late Nabokov (I disagree, I think there are gems there).
It’s this rapture that Boyd seeks to communicate, and to explicate through his close reading. And in my opinion he is very successful at this.
One will learn – and I mean learn in the sense of acquire new facts – a huge amount about Nabokov by reading Boyd. More importantly, Boyd is exquisitely attuned to Nabokov’s aesthetic, why it works, and reading him has enriched my appreciation.
The objection is that Boyd becomes a fanboy because of this. But that’s unfair. Boyd is entirely sensitive to when he thinks Nabokov’s efforts don’t work. His appreciation really is grounded in a thoroughgoing aesthetics: he doesn’t idolise Nabokov as a man or out of fealty. The love for the words is real.
The Author Lives
Again, this is thoroughly unfashionable, but I think there needs to be space for it. We’re so used to critical superciliousness that like pessimism we can mistake it for sophistication. Why should the critic always be trying to put themselves in a superior position to the author? Appreciation is perhaps a more realistic stance, and one that may be of more use to even the educated reader.
In that vein, there are some places where I think Boyd comes unstuck. One is that he does have some theory: his idea of the Fichtean thesis-antithesis-synthesis dialectic. Now, interestingly his inspiration for that does come from Nabokov directly (from Speak, Memory). It works more as a frame for his ideas that an external imposition so I find it suggestive but probably not convincing.
The other is, in this world of aesthetics and genius, it certainly seems fair to question his aesthetic judgement. Ada just doesn’t work as a whole for many readers.
There is a sense where the long-term, appreciative response to Ada has now “empirically” established: it’s just not top-class Nabokov. But then what is?
But there’s another in which this never going to invalidate Boyd’s reaction to Ada – a personal, individual bit of phenomenology that’s as empirical as any other bit of sense-data. We read Nabokov with our spine and its tingle!