ABSTRACT
In Vladimir Nabokov’s last novel Look at the Harlequins!, the autobiographical narrator suffers from a life-long ailment: though quite able to turn physically in any direction, he is overcome by a violent fit as soon as he tries to switch mentally from one direction to its opposite: i.e. to imagine total reversal in space. No wonder that-being a writer-he is stimulated to compose an essay on space; nevertheless, his mental block remains a mystery until the latest of his young lovers finally comes up with a convincing explanation:
‘His mistake,’ she continued, ‘his morbid mistake is quite simple. He has confused direction and duration. He speaks of space but means time…Nobody can imagine in physical terms the act of reversing the order of time. Time is not reversible.’
