That line in an H.G. Wells novel that so excited the admiration of Vladimir

Nabokov was from “The Passionate Friends“

I am working entirely from memory here, as I have neither the Wells novel

nor the Nabokov essay to hand. The protagonist of the novel has just said

goodbye for ever to the love of his life. He then leaves the house where

this happened. Walking through the lobby, he passes a statue that is

covered with a dust-cloth (the occupants of the house have gone away). A

companion, just for something to say, points out the dust-cloth. Our hero

says: “On account of the flies.”

Nabokov is right. The placing and pitch of the statement is absolutely

perfect. Those five words reveal more about the speaker’s inner state than

a whole page full of purple prose. (And this was in 1913, when purple prose

was by no means frowned upon!)

I got 8 correct answers out of about 30 responses. (One reader guessed “The

Outline of History.” Huh? “Genghis Khan’s hordes, a classic instance of

the Community of Will, left their ancient home in Central Asia on account of

the flies…”? I don’t think so.) That’s pretty good. It’s a very obscure

book — to my surprise, it’s not even in Gutenberg

(which is probably why Google can’t find the quote).

A couple of readers (though not the prize-winner) spotted a clue in my

3/15/2002 NRO column.