Word: sprites
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...below-the-radar approaches for years, come-ons that are harder to detect and resist than dancing tacos or Liz galumphing through The Nanny. These are all the rebel ads and anti-ad ads of recent vintage, from former "underground" beat poet/heroin addict William Burroughs flacking for Nike to Sprite's "Image Is Nothing" campaign that attacks advertising as a bunch of lies; from the spot that insists buying an Audi is "a declaration which screams out 'I will not wallow in conformity'" to the bad-boy "Do the Dew" ads for Mountain Dew. These ads are aimed squarely...
...BACK UP ON THE HORSE Our toughest athlete may be a 100-lb. sprite who sits atop 1,000-lb. beasts. A year and a half after Julie Krone broke an anatomy course's worth of bones at Saratoga, she rode in the Kentucky Derby, finishing 11th...
...actually won the world's heart before they won each other's. When the two Russians earned the gold medal at the 1988 Calgary Games, she was just a 16-year-old sprite and he a mature man of 21 who embodied both power and elegance. They projected themselves not as lovers but as older brother and little sister--siblings who could skate in perfect unison and perform a quadruple twist. It was after Calgary that they fell in love, and in 1991 they married in Moscow. Katia gave birth to their daughter Daria in 1992, but they continued...
...brings together 65 tales and sketches. Most have appeared at least once in previous collections. Many are translations of originals written during the 1920s and '30s for Russian emigre publications in Berlin and Paris. Eleven have recently been translated into English for the first time, among them The Wood-Sprite, written in 1921 and listed as the author's first published story...
...collection's stunning opener, The Wood-Sprite is a tale in whose mere three pages Nabokov concentrates the essence of heartache and playfulness that distinguishes the best of his work. A Russian writer who has fled the terrors of his revolutionary homeland imagines a visit from a forest elf ("hunched, gray, powdered with pollen") who explains why he too had to leave the new Soviet state: "Once, toward evening, I skipped out into a glade, and what do I see? People lying around, some on their backs, some on their bellies. Well, I think, I'll wake them...