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by very virtue of being alive, can also die.
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So, this is the problem with the autonomous work of art.
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If your dream as a writer is to make an autonomous work of art that has,
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as we say in a very colloquial way, a life of its own,
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but the problem is that there is something about life
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that's dependent on the possibility of its negation.
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That's why on Valentine's Day
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you might give your lover real flowers rather than plastic ones.
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It's the very potential to decay that makes them beautiful.
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And so, the problem here is that Nabokov dreams of an art that's living
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something like the butterflies that he was so enchanted
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with in his life and work outside of fiction.