Although his brother features prominently in the narrative, Nabokov cannot know, as most people cannot know, what it is like to be one of a set of triplets. The mental energy and power that comes from being one of a set is in part related to the practical issues related to our upbringing, such as the need to formulate a unique identity in spite of being treated and viewed as equals. We competed for our parents' attention, unlike typical siblings whose birth order defines much of who they are in the family. When Nabokov's family is in exile, and they live as immigrants, the comparisons between his story and my own become even more salient. The comparison raises the question: to what degree does our environment shape our identity? Is it possible to separate the self from one's culture, class, and creed?

Like Nabokov, I had a privileged childhood with educated parents. Our social environment was not as posh as Nabokov's in St. Petersburg,...

Like Nabokov, I have siblings whose lives are inextricably entwined with my own but arguably, my relationships with my two siblings are more intense than Nabokov's more distant relationships with his because my siblings and I are triplets. Unlike Nabokov, I am multicultural and was raised to be proud of being half Muslim and half Sephardic Jew. Our heritage offered a key to our identity, as we could probe the ways community, exile, and politics converged to create meaning in our lives. My mother's people in diaspora are like the many Russians in diaspora. Diaspora is painful but it also has the potential to yield creativity and intellectual pursuits related to the placement of politics in personal identity. Therefore, the primary point of comparison between my life and Nabokov's is that there is a common ground in memory. Memory speaks to us through our culture and community.