Can the ending of an autobiography ever be the for-real ending? Of course not, because the author has kept living, at least long enough to write the book. Plus it's hard to go in not knowing that he's destined to write the well-regarded, hotly debated novel "Lolita" and a long list of other books that will earn him a legacy. But in this book, there is an ending: the end of Nabokov's European Era.
In the final passage of the book, Vladimir and his wife Vera are leading their little son through a French park on the way to meet the ship that will take them to America. It's 1939, and the Nazis are gaining power all over Europe. Vladimir has spent over two decades as an émigré, hobbled by the loss of his home and country. His father is long gone, and his mother has just died. It's time to make a new life in a new place.
But what's all this business about toys and flowers and garden design? Maybe it's the noise of trying to remember. Vladimir's little son is busy winding his way down the park paths. He hasn't seen the ship his parents have spotted, and they won't point it out to him. Some things, Nabokov seems to be saying, you have to see for yourself.