. . . to continue yesterday's thoughts about meaning:

Should a reader's reaction equal an author's intent? Does a stated didactic purpose damage or enhance art? Does offering a list of meanings manipulate or empower a reader?

What I love about Nabokov is that he doesn't allow me to answer these questions with any kind of certainty. What I dislike about so many literary commentators is their smug assumption about either-or rather than both-and. "I am prescient about the value/lack of value of [work of art]. Therefore, you are an idiot."

But enough of such talk. What's really distracting me, just now, are these flowers.