In this blog post, I reflected on the meaning behind the contrasts between reality and fantasy, time and memory, and art and freedom as they appear in ‘An Invitation to the Gallows’.

Nabokov’s Literary World Shaped by Exile and Memory

Vladimir Nabokov was born in 1899 into a wealthy aristocratic family in St. Petersburg. He spent his childhood and adolescence in that city, and under the influence of his father—a progressive politician and lawyer—he grew up learning English, Russian, and French from an early age.
In 1917, fleeing the chaos of the Soviet Revolution and the Civil War, the Nabokov family went into exile in Europe, as did many other Russian noble families. Settling in England in 1919, Nabokov majored in Slavic languages at Trinity College, Cambridge. Meanwhile, his family moved to Berlin, which had become a hub for new Russian exiles; there, in 1922, Nabokov’s father was killed by a far-right extremist who had attempted to assassinate Milyukov, the leader of the Constitutional Democratic Party.
After graduating from university in 1923, Nabokov moved to Berlin and began his career as a writer in earnest. He began to gain a reputation as a poet and novelist, particularly among the Russian émigré community. At the time, because his name was the same as that of his famous father, Vladimir Nabokov, he published his works under the pen name Shirin. He subsequently came to be recognized as one of the leading figures among a group of young writers within the Russian émigré community in Berlin. During this period, he actively published his major works in Russian, including his first novel, ‘Mashenka’ (1926), as well as ‘King, Queen, Jack’ (1928), ‘Ruzhin’s Defense’ (1930), ‘The Public’ (1932), ‘Camera Obscura’ (1933), and ‘Despair’ (1934), as well as the short story collection ‘The Return of Chorb’ (1930).
In Berlin, Nabokov met Vera Slonim, the daughter of another exiled family, and they married in 1925; in 1934, they had their only son, Dmitri. To make ends meet, he worked a variety of jobs, including not only as a writer but also as a translator, teacher, and tennis coach. He was also a skilled chess player and even composed and published puzzles in chess magazines.
The Nabokov family left Berlin in 1938 and emigrated to France. This was because he had learned that one of the individuals involved in his father’s assassination had become Hitler’s deputy commander in charge of Russian émigrés, and his wife Vera, who was Jewish, had lost her job. In France, he published in book form his representative Russian-language novels ‘Invitation to the Gallows’ (1936) and ‘Talent’ (1938), which had been serialized in magazines during his time in Berlin.
As Hitler’s aggression in Europe became increasingly overt, Nabokov emigrated to the United States with his family in 1940. Settling in New York, he taught 19th-century Russian classical literature and European modernist literature at Wellesley College and Cornell University. He reportedly gained considerable popularity thanks to his fresh, original, and witty lectures. Alongside his literary lectures, he immersed himself in entomology—particularly the study of butterflies—a subject he had pursued with near-professional interest since childhood; he even served as a research entomologist at the Harvard University Museum of Zoology until 1948. His interest in butterflies went far beyond that of a mere hobbyist; it was deeply serious and professional, and his passion led him to travel the world in search of new species.
While living in the United States, Nabokov’s literary work underwent a major transformation. He gave up writing novels in Russian and began writing novels in English in earnest. Beginning with ‘The True Life of Sebastian Knight’ in 1941, he published ‘Left-Hand Line’ (1947), ‘Lolita’ (1955), ‘Pnin’ (1957), ‘Pale Fire’ (1962), ‘Speak, Memory’ (1967), and the English-language novels ‘Ada or Ardor. A Family Chronicle” (1969), “Transparent Things” (1972), and “Look at the Clown!” (1974).
“Lolita,” in particular, is known as the work that brought Nabokov both wealth and fame. Through this novel, he solidified his standing as a writer in the United States, and the royalties he earned provided him with enough wealth that he no longer needed to stand at the lectern. After moving to Switzerland in 1960, Nabokov lived in hotels without ever renting a home until his death in 1977. Although he chose the path of an American writer by leaving Russia and the Russian language behind through his work, it seems that deep down, he was unable to completely abandon his life as a wandering exile until the very end.
When reading ‘An Invitation to the Gallows’ while reflecting on Nabokov’s life, the recurring themes of memory and the present, as well as the longing for a world beyond reality, take on even greater significance. It struck me that at the very heart of Nabokov’s literary world lies a pursuit of the meaning of art and an exploration of artistic identity. His interest in artist protagonists, narrative patterns, language, temporal structures, and the process of creating art felt like crucial elements for understanding his novels.

How Do Memory and Imagination Become Art?

What is particularly striking in Nabokov’s theory of art is the process by which the two concepts of memory and imagination expand into the realm of creation within the artist’s consciousness. Just as Nabokov stated, “Imagination is a type of memory,” he draws even memory—which is often regarded as the recreation of specific times and spaces—into the realm of imagination.
I believe memory was a crucial artistic medium for Nabokov. The space of Russia—which he was forced to leave behind as an exile—and the rich childhood he spent there can only be revived through memory. And by rearranging and reorganizing these revived memories within the context of the present time and space, he is able to create a new realm of meaning that goes beyond simply repeating the past.
In this regard, the relationship between memory and art, and between the person who remembers and the artist, becomes a crucial key to understanding Nabokov’s work. Memory is not merely the act of recalling past time but becomes a tool used by the artist. Nabokov’s obsession with memory was likely rooted in his unique experience of exile. An exile, unable to settle into reality and constantly wandering in search of somewhere other than the here and now, ultimately confronts questions of identity.
The process of searching for one’s identity is also an endeavor to bring the Russia of the past into the present. And through this process, one is able to find one’s meaning and place within reality. By projecting these questions onto his characters, Nabokov ensures that the issues of the past and memory do not remain confined to an individual’s desperate pursuit but are deepened into the realm of art. This tendency becomes a central theme running through most of his Russian-language novels. By featuring Russian exiles as protagonists and tracing the process by which memory transforms into art, he establishes his own artistic world.
In this regard, ‘An Invitation to the Gallows’ felt like one of the representative Russian-language novels demonstrating that Nabokov’s literary prowess had reached its zenith. This is likely why it is regarded, alongside ‘Talent’, as a work that confirms the peak of his literary abilities.
However, ‘Invitation to a Beheading’ differs from other Russian-language novels in terms of form. Considered one of the most difficult and obscure works in Nabokov’s oeuvre, this novel does not clearly present any of its setting, characters, or plot development. Unlike other Russian-language novels, it contains no references to Russia or the émigré community. Nor are the exact time period or specific locations clearly defined.
The novel begins with the scene in which the protagonist, Chinchinat, is sentenced to death and ends at the moment the execution is carried out. Chinchinat spends his final days in an absurd prison until his execution. In prison, he receives visits from guards who appear in ever-changing guises, as well as from the executioner disguised as a prisoner, his wife, her family, and his mother. Finally, Chinchinat is led to the execution ground, and at the very moment the axe falls upon his neck, he realizes that everything in the world he has lived in is nothing but falsehood and deception. He then moves on to a place where others like him reside.
Some view this novel as a work of fantasy that voices political criticism. This interpretation holds that the world depicted in the novel is closely linked to the Soviet system under Stalin—a totalitarian regime that imposes a collectivized and homogenized way of life. Of course, this interpretation can serve as one way to understand the work. However, I felt that it alone was insufficient to explain the essence of the novel.
Nabokov wanted ‘Invitation to a Beheading’ to be received as a satire on dystopian fiction, and he hoped that the totalitarian state depicted in the work would be understood as an extreme and fantastical metaphor for a state of mental imprisonment. Furthermore, he characterized this work as his most dreamlike and poetic novel, viewing the protagonist, Chinchinnat, as a poet. Thus, the physical confinement, fear, and suffering experienced by Chinchinnat can be understood not merely as political oppression, but as symbols of the artist’s self-awareness and existential struggles in the pursuit of true art, artistic imagination, and artistic freedom.

“Here” and “There”: The World of Falsehood and the World of Freedom

While reading ‘An Invitation to the Execution Ground’, the structural element that struck me as most significant was the contrast between the two worlds of “here” and “there.” This contrast manifests in various forms: past and present, fact and fantasy, truth and fiction, physical time and conscious time, art and non-art. Ultimately, all these oppositions converge into the conflict between “here”—a world dominated by falsehood, deception, constraint, and vulgarity—and “there”—a world governed by truth, freedom, sincerity, and genuine artistry.
The novel begins with Chinchinat receiving a death sentence. The direct reason for his sentence is that, while everything in “here” must be transparent, Chinchinat alone is, as an exception and in an unacceptable manner, opaque.
The people living in “this place” are all transparent beings, and their thoughts and actions follow predetermined rules. Differences between individuals are irrelevant, and everyone is required to live their lives in the same way. They need only be faithful to the roles assigned to them and remain unchanging. In “this place,” where everyone leads homogeneous lives, people cannot accept Chin Chin Nat, who pursues a life different from their own. Chinchin-nat, too, cannot harmonize with such a world.
Chinchin-nat is a “citizen of the next century” and a “visitor who arrived here before his time.” The essential part of him lies elsewhere; only the unimportant parts of him wander here. The reality he experiences is a dark prison, where only misery, madness, threats, and wrongdoing exist.
In contrast, “that place”—where Chinchin-nat can truly find the meaning of his existence—reveals itself only through dreams or illusions. Unlike the miserable reality, the world of dreams is noble, uplifting, vibrant, and free. Therefore, for Chinchin-nat, dreams are not mere illusions. They are a counter-reality, a guarantee of reality, and the beginning of reality.
Another version of Chin Chin Nat—his phantom—appears in the world of fantasy and, unlike the real Chin Chin Nat, enjoys complete freedom. The phantom escapes through the prison gates to roam the city freely and even kicks the guard in the face. The contrast between the Chin Chin Nat who is oppressed in reality and the one who is free in fantasy highlights the difference between the two worlds even more clearly.
Chinchinat possesses artistic potential, and he constantly yearns to become a free and independent artist. However, in “this place” where he lives, such possibilities are blocked. All the circumstances, people, and objects surrounding him are nothing but falsehood and deception, and the events unfolding around him appear like theatrical fictions devoid of truth.
So where, then, can Chinchinat reach true life and true art? It is “that place,” which faintly appears through his dreams. However, “that place” is also a place that can only be reached after meeting death in “this place.” Therefore, for Chinchinat, death—that is, the death penalty—is not merely an object of fear. It signifies overcoming a fictional reality and a life composed of falsehood and deception.

Chin Chin Nat and Pierre: A Strange Mirror Reflecting a Single Existence

Viewed through the lens of death, Chin Chin Nat stands in opposition to Pierre, the executioner. If Chin Chin Nat is a physically imperfect being, Pierre is a man of solid muscles and great strength. While Chin Chin Nat aspires to the life of “that place,” Pierre represents the world of “this place.”
However, rather than viewing the two as completely distinct characters, it felt more natural to understand them as embodiments of different value orientations existing within a single character.
One of the key images dominating “this world” is the motif of the “strange mirror.” This mirror has a unique and bizarre shape. Since the mirror itself is warped and distorted, the objects reflected in it appear in a completely incomprehensible form. However, if the object itself is a grotesque thing riddled with holes and wounds, it actually appears in the mirror as something remarkably splendid and harmonious.
Pierre can be seen as the twisted and distorted reflection of Chinchinatt in this very mirror. In order for Chinchinatt to escape “this place” and become free, he must overcome Pierre. This is because Pierre is not only Chinchinatt’s negative alter ego but also a figure who symbolically represents the falsehood, deception, vulgarity, constraints, and oppression that rule “this place.”
Thus, the moment Chinchinatt escapes the distorted and twisted world through death, Pierre is no longer a being with a strong and sturdy body and will. He is reduced to a mere little caterpillar.
In contrast, at the moment of his death, Chinchinnat overcomes the smallness and frailty that have weighed him down until now, allowing him to slowly and proudly descend from the scaffold.
This scene demonstrates that Chinchinnat’s death is not a mere defeat. Rather, it is interpreted as the moment he breaks free from the world order that had rendered him weak and imperfect, and as the moment he moves toward the freedom and a different world he had long sought.

Escaping the Prison of Time and Moving Toward the Time of Art

The spatial opposition between “here” and “there” is further concretized and deepened through the opposition of time. On one side is the time of reality that torments Chinchinnat—that is, time in the physical sense. On the other side is the time of the world Chinchinnat pursues—that is, time as timelessness.
The clock in the prison seems to constantly remind Chinchinnat that reality lies “here,” not “there.” Even when Chinchinnat unconsciously tries to move toward “there,” the prison clock continues to tick mechanically, regardless of the surrounding circumstances.
The clock in “here” has a very unique design. On the blank clock face, the guard erases the previous hands every 30 minutes and draws new ones to indicate the passage of time. This scene can be interpreted to mean that the objective time governing the flow of time in “here” is ultimately nothing more than a means devised to regulate and restrain everyone so that they act and live according to the same rules.
Under these laws of time, an individual’s free action or free thought cannot be permitted. Everyone’s actions and lives unfold within predictable boundaries. Ultimately, “I” becomes “we,” and “we” becomes “I” again. It is a world where no distinction or difference exists between the individual and the collective.
However, Chinchinat is the only character who sees through the fictitious nature of time in “this place.” He subconsciously realizes that he lives in a different temporal dimension. He exists in the moment between the movements of the person guiding him and the movements of that person’s shadow—in that fleeting pause and disconnection.
The time as Chinchin-nat conceives it does not follow an absolute system. It proceeds according to the same principle as sewing together two patterned carpet pieces to create a new carpet, and then continuing to piece together previous sections to form a carpet of yet another shape.
Just as people create new rugs by piecing together the shapes they desire, time does not simply flow automatically from the past to the present; rather, it constantly takes on new forms based on individual choices. The shape it ultimately takes depends on which past is chosen and what new present is added to that past. Therefore, time can be as diverse as the number of individuals.
This view of time brings to mind Nabokov’s concepts of memory and art. The past is not merely time that has passed; it acquires present-day significance by being newly chosen and imbued with meaning through memory. And it is precisely in that process that creative art becomes possible. Chinchinatt, who understands the nature of time as a tapestry, struck me as a character who, in that sense, demonstrates the potential to become a fully realized creative artist.

Why is Chinchinatt’s death both an end and a beginning?

What, then, is the significance of Chinchinatt’s death, which concludes the novel? I believe his death should not be interpreted solely in physical or literal terms. His death carries a metaphysical meaning.
While Chinchinatt’s physical body, which resided “here,” meets its end, his essence escapes “here” through death and moves toward the “there” he had been pursuing. While the present-day Chinchinnat met death—the end of time—within the traditional flow of time, the other Chinchinnat that existed within him—that is, his ideal self, who sought freedom of action and consciousness, true artistry, and his own inner time—is no longer governed by the time of “here.” His time does not end with death. Rather, with death, he advances into a new dimension of time—a world inhabited by beings resembling himself. His death is a transition from external, objective time into timelessness; it also enables a move from the realm of repressive and restrictive art to that of free and creative art.
In this sense, Chin Chin Nat’s death is both an end and a beginning.
It struck me that Nabokov was a writer who had always shown a particular interest in time within literature. Time in his works does not strictly follow the flow of an actual clock; rather, it is selected and unfolds within the inner world of the artist-protagonist, according to his consciousness. The past, too, is not merely a temporal tense that has passed; it is selected and reinterpreted within the present and developed into the realm of art. And the agent of this process is none other than the artist.
In a world dominated by time—a world whose essence lies in immutability, irreversibility, objectivity, and a mechanical, arithmetical flow—that is, “here”—human beings are constrained in their free will and reduced to passive, unconscious agents. Therefore, to become autonomous human beings—that is, to avoid habitual repetition and become active, conscious agents—we must move toward a world governed by subjective time, which undergoes constant shifts in meaning within the subject’s present consciousness. It is precisely in such a world that true art becomes possible.
Viewed in this light, Chinchinatt’s death is not merely the death of a single human being. It can be understood as a rejection of a world that prioritizes the value of fiction, and as an act of overcoming that world. Thus, his death carries metaphysical significance.
This was the point that lingered longest in my mind after reading ‘Invitation to the Place of Execution’. On the surface, Chinchinatt’s journey to the execution ground appears to be a march toward death; however, within the work’s internal structure, it is seen as a process of breaking free from the world that oppressed him and moving toward a different time, a different world, and true freedom and art. While death is the end “here,” for a being journeying toward “there,” it becomes a new beginning.