This is a fine little read, but above all I love its design. The title on the tar-black cover, written in dark, debossed lettering, reveals itself only when touched or tipped sideways in the light. The endpaper is solid scarlet, as if in opening the book, you have cut a deep gash that allows you to peer into its papery organs. If you are fortunate enough to come across a first edition of this novella, as I found at my local library, the book design alone is worth a thumb-through. But it doesn't hurt that the last two pages are so gloriously written, the intoxicating language will let you set aside your dislike for Nabokov's perviness and close the book with no qualms about becoming something of a fan of his work.