The title describes it perfectly. Such good writing! I wish it wasn't so sad though. I got to about the middle before I realized that something bad was going to happen. Very quick read. ( )

Nabokov's mastery of style, and not necessarily his plots, are what make him a success, and that's why if one were to read Despair because of the back cover praise that it is "a beautiful mystery plot, not to be revealed" one would very quickly find himself bored and disappointed.

This book is not about what happens as much as it's about the person making it happen, the deceptive, arrogant, and thoroughly reprehensible narrator Hermann. He is obsessed in the same way that Nabokov's other famous depraved lunatic, Humbert Humbert, is: changing the course of his life to satisfy his need to see doubles in his world and act upon the consequences of meeting those doubles.

What happens to Hermann and his unwitting double, the dissheveled beggar Felix, is far less important, though, than the patient, methodical development of Hermann's psychosis, revealed in his increasingly digressive and unreliable narration.

This book is a feast of self-referentiality and a marvel of successfully slow pacing, and enjoyed as such, it is indeed a revelation. Just don't expect too much perfectly-crafted mystery.

Dark and strange murder tale with an extremely unsympathetic main character. Hermann, repugnant as he is, represents a real feat of literary creation. To say this is not Nabokov's best work is by no means an insult.

My favorite novel by this writer, excepting, of course, the great "Lolita." It is droll, another tale told by an unreliable narrator. The ending ismore than droll, it is hysterically funny, and I'm told the film of it was, also, perfect and witty. ( )

I have just finished readng Despair by Vladimir Nabokov, my 15th novel in a row by him /egad/, and the first that has truly disappointed me. Hermann is a chocolate manufacturer who is none too successful as a businessman. One day, an amazing coincidence puts him in mind that, of all things, he can commit the perfect murder, and of himself no less. Not suicide, but murder! Unfortunately, this Nabokovian conceit of a plot idea is insufficient to sustain Hermann's crashingly long and boring first-person rendition of his detailed planning and execution (no pun) of his scheme. Worse yet, he is writing it all down in a dreadful book-within-the-book and he shares his superficial writing agonies and indecisions with us also. How shall he write the story? Hermann eventually reaches a point of despair, long after this reader came to have the same feeling.
It turns out that I am actually re-reading the book. Oick? I can't help wondering if I missed a crucial turn somewhere that permitted Nabokov to pull off a Perfect Deception and completely turn the tables on me. As it is, it is a disappointing book and, because of its structure -- being written by Hermann -- one has to put the blame on Hermann, the putative author. It may be that it is Nabokov who has finally committed the perfect crime here!
Read it if you are interested in the development of Nabokov's writing style. Otherwise pick a real detective story! ( )