The New York Times recently reviewed The Original of Laura, a book assembled by Dmitri Nabokov from index cards left by his late father, Vladimir Nabokov, author of Lolita. Vladimir had left instructions for this unfinished novel to be burned after death, giving his literary work a literal deadline for publication. Now we see his wishes left unfulfilled — but how will it be received?

Thanks to an unprecedented transparency, interested readers can immediately see what parts of Laura are Vladimir's and which are his son's. The publisher chose to provide readers with the author's original notes, reproducing the index cards alongside the final edited work. This is an ingenious alternative to what Christopher Tolkien did with The Silmarillion. JRR Tolkien's unfinished work was published by his son in 1977, followed years later by a twelve-volume set of The History of Middle-Earth, which collected the various works from which Christopher chose the parts that would become The Silmarillion. "Th[e]se materials are now made available… and with them a criticism of the 'constructed' Silmarillion becomes possible," he wrote. With The Original of Laura, no delayed considerations are necessary, with the publisher instead choosing to provide readers with the immediacy of the unfinished work alongside the final work.

The review mentions that Vladimir's wife similarly saved Lolita from destruction, which is a compelling argument for letting the masses be the judges of a work the author may be too critical of. Since Vladimir is long beyond caring about his reputation, and most of his peers are similarly unable to provide judgment of their late friend, perhaps it is time for history to speak for itself.

The current brouhaha in a galaxy far far away is the Darth Who naming contest. Seems that Han Solo and Leia Skywalker's brat is following in his grandfather's footsteps, and readers get to decide what his street name will be.

To understand why he's doing this, I looked up little Jacen Solo's Wookiepedia entry. Link upon link later, I was again reminded of how voluminous the Star Wars expanded universe — or "EU", as Warsies call it, and not to be confused with a bunch of Anglo-Saxons uniting around a depreciated currency — is. My direct experience with this medium is neither vast nor recent, as not counting four film novelizations, I've read only two Star Wars books: R. A. Salvatore's Vector Prime and its immediate successor. I didn't have much difficulty picking up on where these characters were decades after the Battle of Yavin… but I felt no motivation to see where they were going, either.

Star Wars is an epic setting, yet its cinematic tales began and ended in a mere six films. By contrast, their literary extensions take dozens of books to tell a single saga (such as New Jedi Order or Legacy of the Force). It's far less episodic than, say, Star Trek novels, which can be picked up and read in any order, based on the appeal of individual plots and characters. Already the NJO books I read seven years ago are set 20 years in the past of the EU's current events. I can't keep up!

Star Wars is to novels as superheroes are to comic books as soap operas are to television: hundreds of characters that live, die, and live again, with intricate plot threads that only the most fanatical loyalist can weave an understanding and appreciation out of. I can't even commit an hour a week to a TV series; how am I supposed to keep up with a Star Wars book a month? I think it's great that some of my favorite films ever have left an epic impact that resonates throughout today's bookshelves; but does it have to be so darn daunting?