What do you think?
Rate this book
Lolita
听When it was published in 1955, Lolita immediately became a cause c茅l猫bre because of the freedom and sophistication with which it handled the unusual erotic predilections of its protagonist. But Vladimir Nabokov's wise, ironic, elegant masterpiece owes its stature as one of the twentieth century's novels of record not to the controversy its material aroused but to its author's use of that material to tell a love story almost shocking in its beauty and tenderness.
Awe and exhilaration鈥揳long with heartbreak and mordant wit鈥揳bound in this account of the aging Humbert Humbert's obsessive, devouring, and doomed passion for the nymphet Dolores Haze. Lolita is also the story of a hypercivilized European colliding with the cheerful barbarism of postwar America, but most of all, it is a meditation on love鈥搇ove as outrage and hallucination, madness and transformation. With an introduction by Martin Amis.
Awe and exhilaration鈥揳long with heartbreak and mordant wit鈥揳bound in this account of the aging Humbert Humbert's obsessive, devouring, and doomed passion for the nymphet Dolores Haze. Lolita is also the story of a hypercivilized European colliding with the cheerful barbarism of postwar America, but most of all, it is a meditation on love鈥搇ove as outrage and hallucination, madness and transformation. With an introduction by Martin Amis.
335 pages, Hardcover
First published September 1, 1955
51.9k people are currently reading
981k people want to read
About the author
Vladimir Nabokov
805听books14.4k听followersRussian:
袙谢邪写懈屑懈褉 袧邪斜芯泻芯胁
.
Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov, also known by the pen name Vladimir Sirin, was a Russian-American novelist. Nabokov wrote his first nine novels in Russian, then rose to international prominence as a master English prose stylist. He also made significant contributions to lepidoptery, and had a big interest in chess problems.
Nabokov's Lolita (1955) is frequently cited as his most important novel, and is at any rate his most widely known one, exhibiting the love of intricate wordplay and descriptive detail that characterized all his works.
Lolita was ranked fourth in the list of the Modern Library 100 Best Novels; Pale Fire (1962) was ranked 53rd on the same list, and his memoir, Speak, Memory (1951), was listed eighth on the publisher's list of the 20th century's greatest nonfiction. He was also a finalist for the National Book Award for Fiction seven times.
Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov, also known by the pen name Vladimir Sirin, was a Russian-American novelist. Nabokov wrote his first nine novels in Russian, then rose to international prominence as a master English prose stylist. He also made significant contributions to lepidoptery, and had a big interest in chess problems.
Nabokov's Lolita (1955) is frequently cited as his most important novel, and is at any rate his most widely known one, exhibiting the love of intricate wordplay and descriptive detail that characterized all his works.
Lolita was ranked fourth in the list of the Modern Library 100 Best Novels; Pale Fire (1962) was ranked 53rd on the same list, and his memoir, Speak, Memory (1951), was listed eighth on the publisher's list of the 20th century's greatest nonfiction. He was also a finalist for the National Book Award for Fiction seven times.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 45,710 reviews
December 7, 2017
Between the Covers
After re-reading "Lolita", I asked my local bookseller if she'd ever read it.
She replied firmly, 鈥淣o鈥nd I鈥檓 not going to either. He鈥檚 a paedophile.鈥�
A bit taken aback, I enquired further, 鈥淲ho? The author or the character?鈥�
Fortunately, she replied, 鈥淭he character.鈥�
For me, this exchange showed how much 鈥淟olita鈥� can still sharply divide opinion, even within lovers of fiction.
This wasn鈥檛 the conversation I had been hoping for.
I had read 鈥淟olita鈥� in a couple of days, less time than my work commitments normally allow me, but I found it incredibly easy to read.
Even though I was taking notes, even though I was conscious that Nabokov was playing games (even if I didn鈥檛 always know what game), even though there were unfamiliar words I should have looked up, I was constantly drawn towards the conclusion.
I wanted to talk to someone about my experience straight away.
My cheeks were still flushed, my nerve endings were still tingling, I had experienced the 鈥渟pine thrill of delight鈥�, I felt like I had just had sex with a book.
Now, not being a smoker, all I needed was some post-coital conversation.
And there was no one around to converse with.
And the book wasn鈥檛 giving away any more of its secrets than it already had.
Nor was it going to tell me I had been a Good Reader or that it had appreciated my attentiveness.
It was back between the covers, challenging me to start again.
Three Act Word Play
At a superficial level, 鈥淟olita鈥� is a relatively straight-forward novel.
Once you know that it concerns sexual relations between 37 year old Humbert Humbert and 12 year old Dolores 鈥淟olita鈥� Hayes, you just about know the plot.
There鈥檚 a beginning, a middle and an end.
A grooming, a consummation, an aftermath.
Nabokov makes of his material a three act play.
And he does so playfully, seductively, lyrically, charmingly, amusingly, dangerously.
To this day, I cannot look at Humbert鈥檚 initials 鈥淗.H.鈥� without pronouncing them in German, 鈥淗a Ha鈥�, and wondering whether the joke is on us.
Beneath the skin of the novel, there is much more.
There is a whole complex living organism.
You can lose yourself within its arms for days, weeks, months, a lifetime.
As long as your love of wordplay, your love of words and play, will permit you.
Again, at a superficial level, there is an almighty conflict between morality and aesthetics happening between the pages.
Whether or not Nabokov deliberately put the conflict there, he put the subject matter there.
We, the readers, can supply our own conflict in the way we read his novel.
Nabokov knew the subject matter would inflame us, if not our desires, then at least our morals, our sense of righteousness.
Morality and aesthetics are intertwined within the fabric of the novel.
They embrace each other in one long death roll, just like Humbert Humbert and Clare Quilty.
We watch their interaction, open-mouthed, open-minded, but ultimately they have to be pulled apart or separated.
When they are together, they are one.
When they are apart, they are each other鈥檚 double.
The Morality of the Story
There is no doubt that sexual relations between an adult and a minor are not just immoral, but criminal as well.
That is an unquestionable fact.
From a legal point of view, the motive of the adult is irrelevant to the proof of the crime.
The consent of the minor is irrelevant to the proof of the crime.
If Humbert had been charged with an offence of sexual relations with a minor, he would have had no legal defence.
Any question as to whether Lolita really seduced Humbert would have been irrelevant.
In fact, the evidence might not even have been admissible, except potentially as part of the determination of the penalty.
In other words, even if it was relevant to penalty, it was not relevant to guilt.
Because morality is a social construct that depends on collective endorsement, he had no moral defence either.
The personal views of the individual are not really that relevant to society鈥檚 determination that an act is immoral.
The choice of the individual is to comply or offend.
Of Traps and Cages
Humbert offended not just once, but untold numerous times over two years.
He carefully planned his seduction, he set his trap, he caught his prey, even if someone might want to argue that this 12 year old seductress walked voluntarily into the trap.
Having freed Lolita from the trap, he imprisoned her in a cage, and repeated his crime.
Again, someone could argue that she had plenty of opportunities to flee the cage (which she eventually did).
But Humbert surrounded Lolita with an elaborate system of self-doubt that convinced her that she would become a ward of the state if they were found out.
The Legality of the Confession
鈥淟olita鈥� is written from Humbert鈥檚 point of view.
It is not just a recollection in his mind, it is a formal, written document.
He sat down and wrote it in 56 days between his capture in 1952 (charged only with the crime of murdering Clare Quilty) and his death in prison before his trial could occur.
For me, the written document is a fascinating choice of literary device to tell the story.
The document becomes a book within a book.
While Nabokov obviously wrote it, all that he purports to do is sandwich it between a Foreword and a (much later) Afterword.
This device sets up an interesting relationship between Humbert and the reader.
For Humbert, it is akin to a confession or a witness statement.
To this extent, what he confesses to is clearly enough to convict him of the crime of murder.
However, in it, he also sets out details of crimes that, for whatever reason, he was never charged with.
If his lawyer had read the document while he was still alive, he would probably have excised all of the other confessions, because they would have prejudiced his client鈥檚 case (at least with respect to penalty).
The Role of the Jury
For the reader, the confession defines our relationship to the events that are described.
We are cast in the role of a member of the Jury.
This device allows heinous moral and criminal acts to be described and read and examined within a legal and therefore legitimate framework.
In a sense, the book becomes a report of sorts on legal proceedings.
We become legitimate observers and listeners to something that might otherwise have been prurient and offensive and illegal.
Yet, we have to do our duty and participate in the legal process, because it is an important part of the justice system.
Even though we have a legitimate interest in participating, I wonder whether we are still voyeuristic.
Nabokov has trapped us in a game that persuades us that it is serious, but ends up being just as playful and perverse as the subject matter of the crime.
In a way, Nabokov makes us complicit in a crime, if not Humbert鈥檚 crime, then perhaps our own thought crime.
It is also material that, by the time Humbert鈥檚 confession is read, both Humbert and Lolita have died of natural causes.
Humbert speaks from the other side of death.
Nobody is alive, nobody can be hurt any more than they already have.
The Confessions of an Unreliable Narrator (The Fox and the Peacock)
I explored these issues, because I wanted to understand Humbert鈥檚 motivation for his confession.
He is effectively pleading guilty.
I don鈥檛 see any prospect for an insanity defence, even though he seemed to have been in and out of sanatoria at times of crisis.
Equally, I don鈥檛 think that anything he reveals would reduce the penalty for the murder.
To do so, he only needed to focus on his concern that Quilty had wronged Lolita in some way even worse than his own actions.
But to confess all of these other crimes seems to be counter-productive.
Similarly, I don鈥檛 think he was lying about the detail, I think that he was telling the truth, and that he was telling the truth, so that he could be understood, no more, no less.
Humbert鈥檚 confession is not just the fiction of a dirty old man, it is not false or fabricated, it is not a mirage.
No matter how immoral, no matter how deluded, no matter how selfish and narcissistic, it is his fact, his reality, his truth, his burden, his shame.
His actions were the pursuit of a rational man, not an insane one.
He was film-star handsome, educated, intellectual, talented, witty, charming, calculating, calculated, dangerous.
There is no doubt that he was a talented performer, an exceptional player.
However, Humbert is not an actor wearing a mask, performing some other fictional character or version of himself.
I believe that we are seeing him for what he really is.
He is as cunning, tricky, sly as a fox and as refined, elaborate, attractive as a peacock.
His decoration, his ornamentation is part of him, his life, his loins, his sin, his soul.
In pursuit of Lolita, he was prepared to lie and deceive in order to achieve his goal.
I don鈥檛 believe that he was prepared to lie to us, if only because there was no point in lying.
When occasionally he questions the veracity of his own account, it is solely to question the accuracy of his memory.
However, he didn鈥檛 need to tell lies to achieve leniency, he didn鈥檛 need to tell the truth for some ulterior motive.
By confessing to anything, he would only be found guilty of crimes he hadn鈥檛 been charged with in addition to the charge of murder he had been accused of.
There was no point in confessing to anything extra, other than to tell the truth as he saw it.
It wasn鈥檛 going to get him any sympathy or reduce his penalty, if anything, his disclosures would aggravate his penalty.
To this extent, I don鈥檛 consider Humbert an 鈥渦nreliable narrator鈥�.
I realise that some might respond that paedophiles are habitual liars and can鈥檛 help themselves.
That might well be the case, but I think it is our horror at his crime, our moral judgment affecting our assessment of the whole of the person and shaping our (aesthetic) response to the book and the character.
Perhaps naively, I want to find some good in him.
Ultimately, whether or not Humbert鈥檚 love was morally wrong, I believe that he wanted us to understand his love and what he learned about his love by the end of his story.
What We Talk about When We Talk about Humbert鈥檚 Love
Technically, the sexual relations between Humbert and Lolita are not an example of 鈥減aedophilia鈥� (which is a sexual preference for a pre-pubescent).
While nothing moral or legal turns on the distinction, the sexual relations constitute 鈥渉ebephilia鈥� (which is a sexual preference for a person in the early stage of puberty).
The name derives from 鈥淗ebe鈥�, the Greek goddess of youth.
Her name means youth or prime of life, and she personified both youth and immortality.
She was the cup bearer who served nectar to the Olympian Gods to give them everlasting youth.
First Part (Obsessive Love)
For me, during the first part of the book, Humbert鈥檚 love was forbidden, but genuine.
It was a transgressive love, in that it was a love of the particular aesthetic form that youth takes between the ages of ten and fifteen.
The body is at its most perfect, it has not started to age, to wrinkle, to fill out, to droop, to deteriorate.
After that age, the body starts to age, and he finds that physically unattractive (as in the case of his first wife and Lolita's mother).
OK, we all make choices about our love objects.
How can we account for our choices?
There鈥檚 no accounting for love.
Still, at the heart of this aesthetic approach to love is a fear or disgust at aging and mortality.
There is an unreality, a lack of understanding and acceptance of the cycle of life and death, a Peter Pan desire to stay forever young, forever immortal.
I also think there is a self-love or narcissism inherent in this aesthetic view.
I love the young, because I love the perfect form of my own youth.
Since my youth, I have fallen, morally and physically.
I therefore have to preserve the visage of my own youth.
I wonder whether it is only possible to have this view if you have never had your own biological child.
Parenthood is an education in the reality of aging.
It is an illusion to believe that you can live and defeat it.
But tell that to the cosmetics industry.
So far I have talked of love in the abstract.
In the first part of the book, I struggled to understand Humbert鈥檚 love and the above is what I came up with.
I won鈥檛 say I had a sympathy for him, but I think I understood him and his love.
I even understood his obsessiveness.
How many of us, during the first throes of love, trap and oppress our love object, so much so that we are not able to see how oppressive we were, until after the relationship has been consummated, or morphed into something more mature or ended?
However, things started to change at the end of the first part (the consummation) and into the second part (the imprisonment).
Of course the love had to be consummated, but as unexceptional as the description of the event was, it highlighted the reality that the first part was a trap for Lolita to walk into.
As playful and lyrical as the language might have been, it was sinister in intent.
Second Part (Captivating Love)
During the second part, having captured Lo, Humbert makes it clear that his love will last no more than three years, to be precise, 1 January, 1947 to 1 January, 1950, which are effectively her 12th to 15th birthdays.
After this, statistically at least, Lo will morph out of her nymphet form.
So Humbert's love is solely for a definitive phase of her entire life, after which he expects and intends to abandon her.
During this phase, Humbert鈥檚 goal is to maintain Lolita in captivity, to ensure her availability for him alone.
There is no fairy tale promise of 鈥渉appily ever after鈥� or 鈥溾€檛il death do us part鈥� in this love action.
There is no love or concern for the other, only selfishness and narcissism.
I have tried to view the definition of beauty that appeals to Humbert as an aesthetic issue.
I have tried to divorce it from morality, so I can understand it better.
However, whether I think of it in terms of aesthetics or morality, obsession or love, the fact that it could be switched on and off at such identifiable times turned me against Humbert.
He is in control of this feeling called love, at least, he knows with clinical precision when he will return to 鈥渘ormality鈥� or a state of not loving.
His love was a drug that he took too knowingly, he knew precisely when the feeling of the drug would wear off.
So, I started to believe that there was no loss of self in his love.
Instead, it was a heightened or gross act of narcissism.
By extension, there was no sense in which he tried to "satisfy" Lo personally or sexually.
There was no sense of a mutually satisfying relationship or intercourse (although to be fair, he doesn't go into the sexual detail, except in terms of physical exertion).
However, I got the sense that, when it came to consummating his love, it was just about sticking his dick into his love object.
OK, lots of sexual relationships can be reduced to this fundamental penetrative act.
Some men see femaleness as no more than a receptacle for maleness and its fluid manifestation, the cup into which they spill their seed.
However, I started to feel in the second part that Humbert's aim was to defile or despoil the beauty that had appealed to him in the first part (even if it was transgressive).
And the three year zone of enchantment highlighted to me that Humbert would just go in search of the next beautiful nymphet to stick his dick into.
So it became increasingly apparent to me that he was a serial despoiler of beauty, not a genuine lover or admirer of beauty.
There is a hatred or disgust hotwired into this love.
You don't normally hate the flowers in your vase when it comes time to remove them and throw them in the dustbin.
But you get the sense that Humbert would have been disgusted by his former love objects, his objet d'obsession, the moment that calendar clicked over.
Obviously, this same disgust or loss of interest appears in more traditional relationships.
It could lie behind the mid-life crisis when the guy runs away with the younger woman.
It could explain the inability to accept the inevitability of aging, at least in our partner.
It could explain we males who still picture ourselves as the immutable 20 year old who deserves a young and nubile partner (no matter how soft or old or fat or ugly we have become).
So Humbert鈥檚 love can teach the rest of us something about our own love.
Last Part (Adult Love Denied)
I wrote most of my comments about the second part before I had finished reading the last part of the novel.
I have to emphasise that most of what turned me against Humbert came from my reaction to his own words.
Neither he nor Nabokov held back the material that would make me hate him.
Still, I read on, firmly in their constrictive embrace, until chapter 29, when Humbert and the seventeen year old, married and pregnant Dolores meet again.
What you think of Humbert and his love, whether or not you think he is lying, depends on your interpretation of the confessions in this chapter:
鈥溾€here she was with her ruined looks and her adult, rope-veined narrow hands and her gooseflesh white arms, and her shallow ears, and her unkempt armpits, there she was (my Lolita!), hopelessly worn at seventeen, with that baby鈥� and I looked and I looked at her, and knew as clearly as I know I am to die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else鈥�
鈥淲hat I used to pamper among the tangled vines of my heart鈥ad dwindled to its essence: sterile and selfish vice, all that I cancelled and cursed鈥�
鈥淵ou may jeer at me, and threaten to clear the court, but until I am gagged and half-throttled, I will shout my poor truth.
鈥淚 insist the world know how much I loved my Lolita, this Lolita, pale and polluted, and big with another鈥檚 child, but still gray-eyed, still sooty-lashed, still auburn and almond, still Carmencita, still mine.鈥�
This is just one part of Humbert鈥檚 journey.
He realised that he still loved her outside the hebephile zone.
However, he still clung to 鈥渉is鈥� Lolita, the Lolita of his deluded version of love.
Obviously, Dolores is and never was 鈥渉is鈥� version of reality, she was her own person, and she declines his love a second time.
Only then does he recognise that he 鈥渄id not know a thing about [his] darling鈥檚 mind鈥� or that 鈥渁 North American girl-child named Dolores Haze had been deprived of her childhood by a maniac鈥�.
Then he quotes 鈥渁n old poet鈥� (presumably Nabokov himself):
鈥淭he moral sense in mortals is the duty
鈥淲e have to pay on mortal sense of beauty.鈥�
In other words, you can鈥檛 just indulge an aesthetic sense of beauty at the expense of a real human being, it comes attached to and constrained by morality.
Morality, taboo and the law work together to protect innocence and beauty from those who would defile and despoil it.
He was not above the law, he was no Nietzschian Superman.
He was the fool in his own play.
The Tragedy
There are suggestions that Nabokov saw Humbert鈥檚 story as a tragedy, that Humbert only realised that he genuinely loved Dolores by conventional standards when it was too late.
That might be so, but Humbert only had himself to blame.
He was a victim of his own hand, and his tragedy was nothing compared with the one he made Dolores endure, so that he, too selfishly for love, could have his 鈥淟olita鈥�.
After re-reading "Lolita", I asked my local bookseller if she'd ever read it.
She replied firmly, 鈥淣o鈥nd I鈥檓 not going to either. He鈥檚 a paedophile.鈥�
A bit taken aback, I enquired further, 鈥淲ho? The author or the character?鈥�
Fortunately, she replied, 鈥淭he character.鈥�
For me, this exchange showed how much 鈥淟olita鈥� can still sharply divide opinion, even within lovers of fiction.
This wasn鈥檛 the conversation I had been hoping for.
I had read 鈥淟olita鈥� in a couple of days, less time than my work commitments normally allow me, but I found it incredibly easy to read.
Even though I was taking notes, even though I was conscious that Nabokov was playing games (even if I didn鈥檛 always know what game), even though there were unfamiliar words I should have looked up, I was constantly drawn towards the conclusion.
I wanted to talk to someone about my experience straight away.
My cheeks were still flushed, my nerve endings were still tingling, I had experienced the 鈥渟pine thrill of delight鈥�, I felt like I had just had sex with a book.
Now, not being a smoker, all I needed was some post-coital conversation.
And there was no one around to converse with.
And the book wasn鈥檛 giving away any more of its secrets than it already had.
Nor was it going to tell me I had been a Good Reader or that it had appreciated my attentiveness.
It was back between the covers, challenging me to start again.
Three Act Word Play
At a superficial level, 鈥淟olita鈥� is a relatively straight-forward novel.
Once you know that it concerns sexual relations between 37 year old Humbert Humbert and 12 year old Dolores 鈥淟olita鈥� Hayes, you just about know the plot.
There鈥檚 a beginning, a middle and an end.
A grooming, a consummation, an aftermath.
Nabokov makes of his material a three act play.
And he does so playfully, seductively, lyrically, charmingly, amusingly, dangerously.
To this day, I cannot look at Humbert鈥檚 initials 鈥淗.H.鈥� without pronouncing them in German, 鈥淗a Ha鈥�, and wondering whether the joke is on us.
Beneath the skin of the novel, there is much more.
There is a whole complex living organism.
You can lose yourself within its arms for days, weeks, months, a lifetime.
As long as your love of wordplay, your love of words and play, will permit you.
Again, at a superficial level, there is an almighty conflict between morality and aesthetics happening between the pages.
Whether or not Nabokov deliberately put the conflict there, he put the subject matter there.
We, the readers, can supply our own conflict in the way we read his novel.
Nabokov knew the subject matter would inflame us, if not our desires, then at least our morals, our sense of righteousness.
Morality and aesthetics are intertwined within the fabric of the novel.
They embrace each other in one long death roll, just like Humbert Humbert and Clare Quilty.
We watch their interaction, open-mouthed, open-minded, but ultimately they have to be pulled apart or separated.
When they are together, they are one.
When they are apart, they are each other鈥檚 double.
The Morality of the Story
There is no doubt that sexual relations between an adult and a minor are not just immoral, but criminal as well.
That is an unquestionable fact.
From a legal point of view, the motive of the adult is irrelevant to the proof of the crime.
The consent of the minor is irrelevant to the proof of the crime.
If Humbert had been charged with an offence of sexual relations with a minor, he would have had no legal defence.
Any question as to whether Lolita really seduced Humbert would have been irrelevant.
In fact, the evidence might not even have been admissible, except potentially as part of the determination of the penalty.
In other words, even if it was relevant to penalty, it was not relevant to guilt.
Because morality is a social construct that depends on collective endorsement, he had no moral defence either.
The personal views of the individual are not really that relevant to society鈥檚 determination that an act is immoral.
The choice of the individual is to comply or offend.
Of Traps and Cages
Humbert offended not just once, but untold numerous times over two years.
He carefully planned his seduction, he set his trap, he caught his prey, even if someone might want to argue that this 12 year old seductress walked voluntarily into the trap.
Having freed Lolita from the trap, he imprisoned her in a cage, and repeated his crime.
Again, someone could argue that she had plenty of opportunities to flee the cage (which she eventually did).
But Humbert surrounded Lolita with an elaborate system of self-doubt that convinced her that she would become a ward of the state if they were found out.
The Legality of the Confession
鈥淟olita鈥� is written from Humbert鈥檚 point of view.
It is not just a recollection in his mind, it is a formal, written document.
He sat down and wrote it in 56 days between his capture in 1952 (charged only with the crime of murdering Clare Quilty) and his death in prison before his trial could occur.
For me, the written document is a fascinating choice of literary device to tell the story.
The document becomes a book within a book.
While Nabokov obviously wrote it, all that he purports to do is sandwich it between a Foreword and a (much later) Afterword.
This device sets up an interesting relationship between Humbert and the reader.
For Humbert, it is akin to a confession or a witness statement.
To this extent, what he confesses to is clearly enough to convict him of the crime of murder.
However, in it, he also sets out details of crimes that, for whatever reason, he was never charged with.
If his lawyer had read the document while he was still alive, he would probably have excised all of the other confessions, because they would have prejudiced his client鈥檚 case (at least with respect to penalty).
The Role of the Jury
For the reader, the confession defines our relationship to the events that are described.
We are cast in the role of a member of the Jury.
This device allows heinous moral and criminal acts to be described and read and examined within a legal and therefore legitimate framework.
In a sense, the book becomes a report of sorts on legal proceedings.
We become legitimate observers and listeners to something that might otherwise have been prurient and offensive and illegal.
Yet, we have to do our duty and participate in the legal process, because it is an important part of the justice system.
Even though we have a legitimate interest in participating, I wonder whether we are still voyeuristic.
Nabokov has trapped us in a game that persuades us that it is serious, but ends up being just as playful and perverse as the subject matter of the crime.
In a way, Nabokov makes us complicit in a crime, if not Humbert鈥檚 crime, then perhaps our own thought crime.
It is also material that, by the time Humbert鈥檚 confession is read, both Humbert and Lolita have died of natural causes.
Humbert speaks from the other side of death.
Nobody is alive, nobody can be hurt any more than they already have.
The Confessions of an Unreliable Narrator (The Fox and the Peacock)
I explored these issues, because I wanted to understand Humbert鈥檚 motivation for his confession.
He is effectively pleading guilty.
I don鈥檛 see any prospect for an insanity defence, even though he seemed to have been in and out of sanatoria at times of crisis.
Equally, I don鈥檛 think that anything he reveals would reduce the penalty for the murder.
To do so, he only needed to focus on his concern that Quilty had wronged Lolita in some way even worse than his own actions.
But to confess all of these other crimes seems to be counter-productive.
Similarly, I don鈥檛 think he was lying about the detail, I think that he was telling the truth, and that he was telling the truth, so that he could be understood, no more, no less.
Humbert鈥檚 confession is not just the fiction of a dirty old man, it is not false or fabricated, it is not a mirage.
No matter how immoral, no matter how deluded, no matter how selfish and narcissistic, it is his fact, his reality, his truth, his burden, his shame.
His actions were the pursuit of a rational man, not an insane one.
He was film-star handsome, educated, intellectual, talented, witty, charming, calculating, calculated, dangerous.
There is no doubt that he was a talented performer, an exceptional player.
However, Humbert is not an actor wearing a mask, performing some other fictional character or version of himself.
I believe that we are seeing him for what he really is.
He is as cunning, tricky, sly as a fox and as refined, elaborate, attractive as a peacock.
His decoration, his ornamentation is part of him, his life, his loins, his sin, his soul.
In pursuit of Lolita, he was prepared to lie and deceive in order to achieve his goal.
I don鈥檛 believe that he was prepared to lie to us, if only because there was no point in lying.
When occasionally he questions the veracity of his own account, it is solely to question the accuracy of his memory.
However, he didn鈥檛 need to tell lies to achieve leniency, he didn鈥檛 need to tell the truth for some ulterior motive.
By confessing to anything, he would only be found guilty of crimes he hadn鈥檛 been charged with in addition to the charge of murder he had been accused of.
There was no point in confessing to anything extra, other than to tell the truth as he saw it.
It wasn鈥檛 going to get him any sympathy or reduce his penalty, if anything, his disclosures would aggravate his penalty.
To this extent, I don鈥檛 consider Humbert an 鈥渦nreliable narrator鈥�.
I realise that some might respond that paedophiles are habitual liars and can鈥檛 help themselves.
That might well be the case, but I think it is our horror at his crime, our moral judgment affecting our assessment of the whole of the person and shaping our (aesthetic) response to the book and the character.
Perhaps naively, I want to find some good in him.
Ultimately, whether or not Humbert鈥檚 love was morally wrong, I believe that he wanted us to understand his love and what he learned about his love by the end of his story.
What We Talk about When We Talk about Humbert鈥檚 Love
Technically, the sexual relations between Humbert and Lolita are not an example of 鈥減aedophilia鈥� (which is a sexual preference for a pre-pubescent).
While nothing moral or legal turns on the distinction, the sexual relations constitute 鈥渉ebephilia鈥� (which is a sexual preference for a person in the early stage of puberty).
The name derives from 鈥淗ebe鈥�, the Greek goddess of youth.
Her name means youth or prime of life, and she personified both youth and immortality.
She was the cup bearer who served nectar to the Olympian Gods to give them everlasting youth.
First Part (Obsessive Love)
For me, during the first part of the book, Humbert鈥檚 love was forbidden, but genuine.
It was a transgressive love, in that it was a love of the particular aesthetic form that youth takes between the ages of ten and fifteen.
The body is at its most perfect, it has not started to age, to wrinkle, to fill out, to droop, to deteriorate.
After that age, the body starts to age, and he finds that physically unattractive (as in the case of his first wife and Lolita's mother).
OK, we all make choices about our love objects.
How can we account for our choices?
There鈥檚 no accounting for love.
Still, at the heart of this aesthetic approach to love is a fear or disgust at aging and mortality.
There is an unreality, a lack of understanding and acceptance of the cycle of life and death, a Peter Pan desire to stay forever young, forever immortal.
I also think there is a self-love or narcissism inherent in this aesthetic view.
I love the young, because I love the perfect form of my own youth.
Since my youth, I have fallen, morally and physically.
I therefore have to preserve the visage of my own youth.
I wonder whether it is only possible to have this view if you have never had your own biological child.
Parenthood is an education in the reality of aging.
It is an illusion to believe that you can live and defeat it.
But tell that to the cosmetics industry.
So far I have talked of love in the abstract.
In the first part of the book, I struggled to understand Humbert鈥檚 love and the above is what I came up with.
I won鈥檛 say I had a sympathy for him, but I think I understood him and his love.
I even understood his obsessiveness.
How many of us, during the first throes of love, trap and oppress our love object, so much so that we are not able to see how oppressive we were, until after the relationship has been consummated, or morphed into something more mature or ended?
However, things started to change at the end of the first part (the consummation) and into the second part (the imprisonment).
Of course the love had to be consummated, but as unexceptional as the description of the event was, it highlighted the reality that the first part was a trap for Lolita to walk into.
As playful and lyrical as the language might have been, it was sinister in intent.
Second Part (Captivating Love)
During the second part, having captured Lo, Humbert makes it clear that his love will last no more than three years, to be precise, 1 January, 1947 to 1 January, 1950, which are effectively her 12th to 15th birthdays.
After this, statistically at least, Lo will morph out of her nymphet form.
So Humbert's love is solely for a definitive phase of her entire life, after which he expects and intends to abandon her.
During this phase, Humbert鈥檚 goal is to maintain Lolita in captivity, to ensure her availability for him alone.
There is no fairy tale promise of 鈥渉appily ever after鈥� or 鈥溾€檛il death do us part鈥� in this love action.
There is no love or concern for the other, only selfishness and narcissism.
I have tried to view the definition of beauty that appeals to Humbert as an aesthetic issue.
I have tried to divorce it from morality, so I can understand it better.
However, whether I think of it in terms of aesthetics or morality, obsession or love, the fact that it could be switched on and off at such identifiable times turned me against Humbert.
He is in control of this feeling called love, at least, he knows with clinical precision when he will return to 鈥渘ormality鈥� or a state of not loving.
His love was a drug that he took too knowingly, he knew precisely when the feeling of the drug would wear off.
So, I started to believe that there was no loss of self in his love.
Instead, it was a heightened or gross act of narcissism.
By extension, there was no sense in which he tried to "satisfy" Lo personally or sexually.
There was no sense of a mutually satisfying relationship or intercourse (although to be fair, he doesn't go into the sexual detail, except in terms of physical exertion).
However, I got the sense that, when it came to consummating his love, it was just about sticking his dick into his love object.
OK, lots of sexual relationships can be reduced to this fundamental penetrative act.
Some men see femaleness as no more than a receptacle for maleness and its fluid manifestation, the cup into which they spill their seed.
However, I started to feel in the second part that Humbert's aim was to defile or despoil the beauty that had appealed to him in the first part (even if it was transgressive).
And the three year zone of enchantment highlighted to me that Humbert would just go in search of the next beautiful nymphet to stick his dick into.
So it became increasingly apparent to me that he was a serial despoiler of beauty, not a genuine lover or admirer of beauty.
There is a hatred or disgust hotwired into this love.
You don't normally hate the flowers in your vase when it comes time to remove them and throw them in the dustbin.
But you get the sense that Humbert would have been disgusted by his former love objects, his objet d'obsession, the moment that calendar clicked over.
Obviously, this same disgust or loss of interest appears in more traditional relationships.
It could lie behind the mid-life crisis when the guy runs away with the younger woman.
It could explain the inability to accept the inevitability of aging, at least in our partner.
It could explain we males who still picture ourselves as the immutable 20 year old who deserves a young and nubile partner (no matter how soft or old or fat or ugly we have become).
So Humbert鈥檚 love can teach the rest of us something about our own love.
Last Part (Adult Love Denied)
I wrote most of my comments about the second part before I had finished reading the last part of the novel.
I have to emphasise that most of what turned me against Humbert came from my reaction to his own words.
Neither he nor Nabokov held back the material that would make me hate him.
Still, I read on, firmly in their constrictive embrace, until chapter 29, when Humbert and the seventeen year old, married and pregnant Dolores meet again.
What you think of Humbert and his love, whether or not you think he is lying, depends on your interpretation of the confessions in this chapter:
鈥溾€here she was with her ruined looks and her adult, rope-veined narrow hands and her gooseflesh white arms, and her shallow ears, and her unkempt armpits, there she was (my Lolita!), hopelessly worn at seventeen, with that baby鈥� and I looked and I looked at her, and knew as clearly as I know I am to die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else鈥�
鈥淲hat I used to pamper among the tangled vines of my heart鈥ad dwindled to its essence: sterile and selfish vice, all that I cancelled and cursed鈥�
鈥淵ou may jeer at me, and threaten to clear the court, but until I am gagged and half-throttled, I will shout my poor truth.
鈥淚 insist the world know how much I loved my Lolita, this Lolita, pale and polluted, and big with another鈥檚 child, but still gray-eyed, still sooty-lashed, still auburn and almond, still Carmencita, still mine.鈥�
This is just one part of Humbert鈥檚 journey.
He realised that he still loved her outside the hebephile zone.
However, he still clung to 鈥渉is鈥� Lolita, the Lolita of his deluded version of love.
Obviously, Dolores is and never was 鈥渉is鈥� version of reality, she was her own person, and she declines his love a second time.
Only then does he recognise that he 鈥渄id not know a thing about [his] darling鈥檚 mind鈥� or that 鈥渁 North American girl-child named Dolores Haze had been deprived of her childhood by a maniac鈥�.
Then he quotes 鈥渁n old poet鈥� (presumably Nabokov himself):
鈥淭he moral sense in mortals is the duty
鈥淲e have to pay on mortal sense of beauty.鈥�
In other words, you can鈥檛 just indulge an aesthetic sense of beauty at the expense of a real human being, it comes attached to and constrained by morality.
Morality, taboo and the law work together to protect innocence and beauty from those who would defile and despoil it.
He was not above the law, he was no Nietzschian Superman.
He was the fool in his own play.
The Tragedy
There are suggestions that Nabokov saw Humbert鈥檚 story as a tragedy, that Humbert only realised that he genuinely loved Dolores by conventional standards when it was too late.
That might be so, but Humbert only had himself to blame.
He was a victim of his own hand, and his tragedy was nothing compared with the one he made Dolores endure, so that he, too selfishly for love, could have his 鈥淟olita鈥�.
March 15, 2017
Nymph. Nymphet. Nymphetiquette. Nymphology. Nymphism. I will never think of 12 year old girls the same way. There鈥檚 a stain on my brain. The power of this book is that it鈥檚 creepy and taboo, but the pedophilia and incest is so damn plausible. There鈥檚 a criminal, upsetting proclivity of the subject matter, but the whole thing is oiled with reason--SAY IT AINT SO. It鈥檚 deviant, queer, puerile, and yet ever so human, darkly human, perverted in the corner.
Lolita lingers in my mind, like an accidental glance at the mid-day sun. I believe this book will have a permanent effect on me. I鈥檓 thankful, but cautious. It鈥檚 a book that I experienced, not so much as read. There are 2 components to this book that radically affected me, the writing and the subject matter.
The Writing
I have never read another book written quite like Lolita. The writing has depth, layer upon layer, strata against strata, texture among texture. It鈥檚 a palimpsest of clues and anagrams and reference. The author has absolute command of the English and French and Latin language. And yet, among the $4 dollar words and bourgeoisie lit crit, Nabakov plays with the language. He invents words. He hyphenates them. He nymphorizes them. It鈥檚 a gamboling and frolicking story in the rarefied air of an unrestrained, unapologetic and unadulterated polyhistoric writer. It鈥檚 subtle and raw at the same time; it鈥檚 pure. Pure, like what happens in your neighborhood behind closed doors, just before an arrest. He incorporates a dry, brittle sense of humor--even a bit of sass. He taunts the reader to follow. He dares the reader to like and enjoy Humbert Humbert. He pokes you in the eye. He scandalizes you, but with a pen that is at once brutal and sensitive, but always careful. There are echoes of Joyce and Poe.
The story is a retrospective from...from...from where? What? Prison. Ostensibly. And yet, there hasn鈥檛 been a trial yet--no judgement. Nabakov tantalizes you, 鈥渓adies and gentlemen of the jury,鈥� to pass judgement on Humbert Humbert yourself. Are you willing? Or will you just turn your head, wincing?
The writing is breathless, eloquent, exacting, alluring, inventive, sexy, pleading, conceited, lurid, savory, languid, and slyly self-deprecating. The author is flagrant, unapologetic, a dandy even. He whiffles the writing in so many little stylistic flourishes. He writes sentences and paragraphs in ways that I would never have guessed to try. It鈥檚 insanely periodic writing; I grab my head akimbo in pure awe of the sentences. I peeked at an annotated version for 20 pages at a local big-box book store. Wow, there鈥檚 so many levels to this writing, of so much I was ignorant. Did you know that under the shocking story of pedophilia, Nabakov is carrying on a paper chase with clues on almost every page? Yes, there鈥檚 a whole other plane of conversation hidden below the written words--grammatically, semantically, nymphatically. They鈥檙e buried in the french words, the double entendres, the onomatopoeia, the puns, the metonymy, the symbols, the rhyming, the nymphventions. Palimpsest 鈥渓adies and gentlemen.鈥�
The Subject Matter
We all know Lolita is supposed to be shocking, revolting even, many people not able to finish it. Titillating, serious fiction about pedophilia is the clear edge of the literary envelope, something banned in many different communities, even today. At this particular time in our democracy, as one of the freest countries in the world, and the most progressive, we champion human rights and place a huge penalty on crimes against minors. In this spirit, we are supposed to decry and detest the subject matter in this book, and lambast the author. People are arrested and put on community rosters for crimes against minors. This 300+ page book chronicles a crime against a minor. Nabakov makes this an even more difficult sexual arrangement for his readers to contemplate, because the 12 year old is an eager, compliant and willing partner to the crime.
In Lolita the protagonist is a criminal and his actions unforgivable. BUT, if there was any method to his madness, it would have to be this:
Humans share a cephalization process in common with most vertebrates. We developed cerebral hemispheres several million years ago (progressing beyond our closest ancestors), and more recently than that, humans learned how to use the cerebral cortex to reason, judge, cognate, and intuit. But, hundreds of millions of years ago, way down the taxonomic branch, we shared with other vertebrates a common mesencephalon and rhombencephalon, the midbrain and hindbrain. Tucked up under our marvelous, modern cortex, the midbrain and hindbrain, called the brain stem, are comprised of the pons, cerebellum, and yes, the MEDULLA OBLONGATA! These are ancient, compact organs. They are the most 鈥榓nimal鈥� part of our brains. They are in control of the lower order mental functions, the basic mechanistic functions upon which everything else depends. You can lose part of your cortex and still function as a human. You cannot, however, lose any of your brain stem without losing basic animal function. The brain stem is innately integral to life.
It鈥檚 from this midbrain we get reflex, instinct, coordinated movement, sex drive, fight-or-flight, and a whole range of metabolic regulation for all organs in the rest of the body. The impulses (the input, the direction, the priority) originating in these Mesozoic Era brain organs are powerful. The cerebral cortex would be remiss to block an impulse from this deep, ancient brain--even if it could stop the impulse in time. It鈥檚 difficult for our human cortex to constrain an electrical input from the animal brain stem. What comes from the stem is automatically life-sustaining, life-preserving, and high priority. The cortex usually plays catch-up to brain stem messaging.
But humans do it all the time. It鈥檚 called reason, judgement, cognition, and conscience. It鈥檚 called being civilized. It鈥檚 keeping in check our vertebrate impulses.
Enter Humbert Humbert. He suffers an atavistic urge to procreate with young nymphets. This is a social problem driven and turbocharged by the midbrain. He understands (his cortex understands) that the culture of the late 1940s and early 1950s find this taboo and perverse, definitely criminal. But our poor Humberto doesn鈥檛 care. He reasons with his midbrain, and pleads to us, "the jury." In the not too distant past within our own Western culture, and certainly in modern cultures of tribal peoples, 12 year old girls are ready to mate. Lolita has already menstruated and had sex with a boy her age. In many cultures of the world, Lolita would be given up as a wife in exchange for dowries of cattle, land, political favor. The whole story, then, brings this American taboo to a moral question. And its a question that you--modern citizen--find uncomfortable, like I do.
Even more disturbing, Nabakov makes Humby Humberty a caring, loving, protective paternal figure that wishes Lolita the best in life. There is no direct, lewd reference to the act of sex; nothing salacious; nothing pornographic. No, that would be too easy to damn Humbo to the devil. Instead, Nabakov explores the possibility that real love may exist betwain the tween.
I鈥檓 not too happy to report a phenomenon that happens to men of sexual capacity, always and forever. It鈥檚 an impulse from the midbrain, and it pushes through all that civilization-ing. It鈥檚 happened to all men (I know because it鈥檚 been a topic of conversation in many different social settings to which I was eye-witness). Take for example a young woman of 16 or 17 years. From afar I see a body in bikini, I see a tight, athletic form, I see a bronzed body wearing clothes much too revealing, and immediately the midbrain excites the male sex drive. Upon closer approach, I鈥檓 horrified to see that this nubile figure is much too young for me. Am I perverted? Criminal thoughts? I don鈥檛 think so. The midbrain wants to ensure successful mating, and for hundreds of millions of years, sexual mating, to be maximally effective, and to outlast environmental exigencies, was driven down to the earliest age that could conceive offspring. So that dastardly urge men experience around cheerleaders, or girls at the beach that look as healthy and trim as fresh gazelles--it鈥檚 not right dammit, and most of us keep it in check, but there it is and it鈥檚 nagging, and I wish it away. But no, I think it will remain and haunt me at times like it haunts all men--your men--your brothers and your fathers and your lovers. I look away in disgust of myself, call myself a 鈥榙irty old man,鈥� whatever it takes to recalibrate my thoughts. It happens occasionally--that oogling--but I keep it in check. But if you think society has civilized itself away from this midbrain urge, type into google the words: 鈥渓ist of sexual predators in my area.鈥� You will see a Mesozoic characteristic come alive. {note to self, this paragraph may need to be reworded...a very good chance most people will misconstrue it...as if I was pardoning the midbrain urge...or worse, that I pardon Humbert Humbert...not the case at all}
So that鈥檚 why at the beginning I said this story was so damn plausible and upsetting and 鈥榦iled with reason,鈥� and darkly human. Pedophilia and incest has occurred, is occurring, and will always occur. That beast of a midbrain!
A very important read for 20th century literature.
New words: incondite, contretemps, swain, alembic, tombal, purblind, dulcet, treacle, edusively, viatic, selenian
Lolita lingers in my mind, like an accidental glance at the mid-day sun. I believe this book will have a permanent effect on me. I鈥檓 thankful, but cautious. It鈥檚 a book that I experienced, not so much as read. There are 2 components to this book that radically affected me, the writing and the subject matter.
The Writing
I have never read another book written quite like Lolita. The writing has depth, layer upon layer, strata against strata, texture among texture. It鈥檚 a palimpsest of clues and anagrams and reference. The author has absolute command of the English and French and Latin language. And yet, among the $4 dollar words and bourgeoisie lit crit, Nabakov plays with the language. He invents words. He hyphenates them. He nymphorizes them. It鈥檚 a gamboling and frolicking story in the rarefied air of an unrestrained, unapologetic and unadulterated polyhistoric writer. It鈥檚 subtle and raw at the same time; it鈥檚 pure. Pure, like what happens in your neighborhood behind closed doors, just before an arrest. He incorporates a dry, brittle sense of humor--even a bit of sass. He taunts the reader to follow. He dares the reader to like and enjoy Humbert Humbert. He pokes you in the eye. He scandalizes you, but with a pen that is at once brutal and sensitive, but always careful. There are echoes of Joyce and Poe.
The story is a retrospective from...from...from where? What? Prison. Ostensibly. And yet, there hasn鈥檛 been a trial yet--no judgement. Nabakov tantalizes you, 鈥渓adies and gentlemen of the jury,鈥� to pass judgement on Humbert Humbert yourself. Are you willing? Or will you just turn your head, wincing?
The writing is breathless, eloquent, exacting, alluring, inventive, sexy, pleading, conceited, lurid, savory, languid, and slyly self-deprecating. The author is flagrant, unapologetic, a dandy even. He whiffles the writing in so many little stylistic flourishes. He writes sentences and paragraphs in ways that I would never have guessed to try. It鈥檚 insanely periodic writing; I grab my head akimbo in pure awe of the sentences. I peeked at an annotated version for 20 pages at a local big-box book store. Wow, there鈥檚 so many levels to this writing, of so much I was ignorant. Did you know that under the shocking story of pedophilia, Nabakov is carrying on a paper chase with clues on almost every page? Yes, there鈥檚 a whole other plane of conversation hidden below the written words--grammatically, semantically, nymphatically. They鈥檙e buried in the french words, the double entendres, the onomatopoeia, the puns, the metonymy, the symbols, the rhyming, the nymphventions. Palimpsest 鈥渓adies and gentlemen.鈥�
The Subject Matter
We all know Lolita is supposed to be shocking, revolting even, many people not able to finish it. Titillating, serious fiction about pedophilia is the clear edge of the literary envelope, something banned in many different communities, even today. At this particular time in our democracy, as one of the freest countries in the world, and the most progressive, we champion human rights and place a huge penalty on crimes against minors. In this spirit, we are supposed to decry and detest the subject matter in this book, and lambast the author. People are arrested and put on community rosters for crimes against minors. This 300+ page book chronicles a crime against a minor. Nabakov makes this an even more difficult sexual arrangement for his readers to contemplate, because the 12 year old is an eager, compliant and willing partner to the crime.
In Lolita the protagonist is a criminal and his actions unforgivable. BUT, if there was any method to his madness, it would have to be this:
Humans share a cephalization process in common with most vertebrates. We developed cerebral hemispheres several million years ago (progressing beyond our closest ancestors), and more recently than that, humans learned how to use the cerebral cortex to reason, judge, cognate, and intuit. But, hundreds of millions of years ago, way down the taxonomic branch, we shared with other vertebrates a common mesencephalon and rhombencephalon, the midbrain and hindbrain. Tucked up under our marvelous, modern cortex, the midbrain and hindbrain, called the brain stem, are comprised of the pons, cerebellum, and yes, the MEDULLA OBLONGATA! These are ancient, compact organs. They are the most 鈥榓nimal鈥� part of our brains. They are in control of the lower order mental functions, the basic mechanistic functions upon which everything else depends. You can lose part of your cortex and still function as a human. You cannot, however, lose any of your brain stem without losing basic animal function. The brain stem is innately integral to life.
It鈥檚 from this midbrain we get reflex, instinct, coordinated movement, sex drive, fight-or-flight, and a whole range of metabolic regulation for all organs in the rest of the body. The impulses (the input, the direction, the priority) originating in these Mesozoic Era brain organs are powerful. The cerebral cortex would be remiss to block an impulse from this deep, ancient brain--even if it could stop the impulse in time. It鈥檚 difficult for our human cortex to constrain an electrical input from the animal brain stem. What comes from the stem is automatically life-sustaining, life-preserving, and high priority. The cortex usually plays catch-up to brain stem messaging.
But humans do it all the time. It鈥檚 called reason, judgement, cognition, and conscience. It鈥檚 called being civilized. It鈥檚 keeping in check our vertebrate impulses.
Enter Humbert Humbert. He suffers an atavistic urge to procreate with young nymphets. This is a social problem driven and turbocharged by the midbrain. He understands (his cortex understands) that the culture of the late 1940s and early 1950s find this taboo and perverse, definitely criminal. But our poor Humberto doesn鈥檛 care. He reasons with his midbrain, and pleads to us, "the jury." In the not too distant past within our own Western culture, and certainly in modern cultures of tribal peoples, 12 year old girls are ready to mate. Lolita has already menstruated and had sex with a boy her age. In many cultures of the world, Lolita would be given up as a wife in exchange for dowries of cattle, land, political favor. The whole story, then, brings this American taboo to a moral question. And its a question that you--modern citizen--find uncomfortable, like I do.
Even more disturbing, Nabakov makes Humby Humberty a caring, loving, protective paternal figure that wishes Lolita the best in life. There is no direct, lewd reference to the act of sex; nothing salacious; nothing pornographic. No, that would be too easy to damn Humbo to the devil. Instead, Nabakov explores the possibility that real love may exist betwain the tween.
I鈥檓 not too happy to report a phenomenon that happens to men of sexual capacity, always and forever. It鈥檚 an impulse from the midbrain, and it pushes through all that civilization-ing. It鈥檚 happened to all men (I know because it鈥檚 been a topic of conversation in many different social settings to which I was eye-witness). Take for example a young woman of 16 or 17 years. From afar I see a body in bikini, I see a tight, athletic form, I see a bronzed body wearing clothes much too revealing, and immediately the midbrain excites the male sex drive. Upon closer approach, I鈥檓 horrified to see that this nubile figure is much too young for me. Am I perverted? Criminal thoughts? I don鈥檛 think so. The midbrain wants to ensure successful mating, and for hundreds of millions of years, sexual mating, to be maximally effective, and to outlast environmental exigencies, was driven down to the earliest age that could conceive offspring. So that dastardly urge men experience around cheerleaders, or girls at the beach that look as healthy and trim as fresh gazelles--it鈥檚 not right dammit, and most of us keep it in check, but there it is and it鈥檚 nagging, and I wish it away. But no, I think it will remain and haunt me at times like it haunts all men--your men--your brothers and your fathers and your lovers. I look away in disgust of myself, call myself a 鈥榙irty old man,鈥� whatever it takes to recalibrate my thoughts. It happens occasionally--that oogling--but I keep it in check. But if you think society has civilized itself away from this midbrain urge, type into google the words: 鈥渓ist of sexual predators in my area.鈥� You will see a Mesozoic characteristic come alive. {note to self, this paragraph may need to be reworded...a very good chance most people will misconstrue it...as if I was pardoning the midbrain urge...or worse, that I pardon Humbert Humbert...not the case at all}
So that鈥檚 why at the beginning I said this story was so damn plausible and upsetting and 鈥榦iled with reason,鈥� and darkly human. Pedophilia and incest has occurred, is occurring, and will always occur. That beast of a midbrain!
A very important read for 20th century literature.
New words: incondite, contretemps, swain, alembic, tombal, purblind, dulcet, treacle, edusively, viatic, selenian
April 28, 2020
Pushing the boundaries of what acceptable literature can actually be, Lolita is very much a piece of art.
For many years I kept hearing about this book, the content sounding disturbing and perhaps even slightly fascinating. It鈥檚 a book that鈥檚 central theme is one of the darkest elements of mankind: paedophilia. And although such a thing is beyond revolting, it is used to tell the tale of a very lost and very lonely man. Humbert is a man to be pitied, pitied because he actually exists.
A child in a man鈥檚 body, unable to move on from what was to him the most perfect memory; Humbert鈥檚 obsession with youth takes on the form of paedophilia: he becomes attracted to this idea of purity and develops strong sexual feelings towards it. Humbert knows he is a monster, but he just doesn鈥檛 care. To him his feelings are perfectly justifiable, natural even. He has an incredibly distorted view of the world; thus, we see the world through the eyes of an extremely unreliable narrator. Perhaps unreliable is the wrong word. He reports what he sees with utmost honesty; however, his perceptions of these experiences are, well, just wrong.
As a character study, he is a very worthy subject. In the wake of Freudian psychoanalysis, Nabokov鈥檚 novel is aware of the rising field of psychology. Humbert is a walking contradiction. He is at times unbelievably arrogant, and at other times he is timid and weak; he is passive yet manipulative; he derides nothing from life other than a person sense of sexual gratification: it鈥檚 all he lives for. He has an exceedingly narrow range of interests; he scrutinises everything and remembers the most minor of details. He is charming, but at other times completely socially awkward. I think it wouldn鈥檛 be too far a thing to suggest that there are elements of Autism within his personality. He is obsessive about things, about his work and 鈥渉is鈥� Lolita. Ironically, at one point, he expresses succinct knowledge of Freud and at another he demonstrates complete ignorance towards Freud鈥檚 psychosexual stages of development. So who exactly is this Humbert?
Humbert is lost; he is lost in life, and he is lost within himself: he is hopeless, looking for any sense of light in his life. Unfortunately, this projection of desperation takes on the form of a child. He falls in love with Lolita, and what she represents to him. But of course it鈥檚 not real love; Lolita is just a sexual object to him not a person. So what follows is a story of a man who has convinced himself that his actions are perfectly justified. When he takes a twelve year old child in his arms; it is perfectly fine to his mind because she comes willing. Never mind the fact that he has crafted a situation so that she responds to his advances. She is vulnerable and completely alone in the world; she has no one to turn to in her moment of grief, and the snake is ready to lunge.
Nabokov describes some truly disturbing scenes, though he does so with eloquence bordering on the genius. Sounds odd, considering what I have just described. The content of the book is vile, Humbert is vile, but in a fictionalised world we have to look beyond that. The world is seen through the eyes of Humbert, so everything we see is what he sees and what he experiences. Nabokov uses free-indirect style to narrate some harrowing scenes, the content is vile but the language is beautiful. Again, this is what Humbert experiences. As troubling as this book may be, I argue that this has very strong place in the literary world. Nabokov explores the mind of a sexual predator and I think as readers we can learn a great deal in the process. We can see how the psychological make up of such an individual is formed and we can see what they think and they feel. To understand such a man is the first step towards stopping him and recognising this behaviour in other men.
As a reviewer, I find it of vital importance to read the reviews of others. There鈥檚 a quote on the back of my book from one such review; it says, and I quote 鈥淭here鈥檚 no funnier monster in modern literature than poor, doomed Humbert Humbert.鈥� I cannot quite describe how angry that quote makes me. There is nothing funny about Lolita.This book is terribly serious in content, and Humbert is not a man to be laughed at. What we have is a deeply disturbed individual, one confused and drifting through life, cold and utterly broken inside, and he is about to ruin the life of a young girl.
I don鈥檛 laugh at this book, I weep at its brilliance.
___________________________________
You can connect with me on social media via .
__________________________________
For many years I kept hearing about this book, the content sounding disturbing and perhaps even slightly fascinating. It鈥檚 a book that鈥檚 central theme is one of the darkest elements of mankind: paedophilia. And although such a thing is beyond revolting, it is used to tell the tale of a very lost and very lonely man. Humbert is a man to be pitied, pitied because he actually exists.
A child in a man鈥檚 body, unable to move on from what was to him the most perfect memory; Humbert鈥檚 obsession with youth takes on the form of paedophilia: he becomes attracted to this idea of purity and develops strong sexual feelings towards it. Humbert knows he is a monster, but he just doesn鈥檛 care. To him his feelings are perfectly justifiable, natural even. He has an incredibly distorted view of the world; thus, we see the world through the eyes of an extremely unreliable narrator. Perhaps unreliable is the wrong word. He reports what he sees with utmost honesty; however, his perceptions of these experiences are, well, just wrong.
As a character study, he is a very worthy subject. In the wake of Freudian psychoanalysis, Nabokov鈥檚 novel is aware of the rising field of psychology. Humbert is a walking contradiction. He is at times unbelievably arrogant, and at other times he is timid and weak; he is passive yet manipulative; he derides nothing from life other than a person sense of sexual gratification: it鈥檚 all he lives for. He has an exceedingly narrow range of interests; he scrutinises everything and remembers the most minor of details. He is charming, but at other times completely socially awkward. I think it wouldn鈥檛 be too far a thing to suggest that there are elements of Autism within his personality. He is obsessive about things, about his work and 鈥渉is鈥� Lolita. Ironically, at one point, he expresses succinct knowledge of Freud and at another he demonstrates complete ignorance towards Freud鈥檚 psychosexual stages of development. So who exactly is this Humbert?
Humbert is lost; he is lost in life, and he is lost within himself: he is hopeless, looking for any sense of light in his life. Unfortunately, this projection of desperation takes on the form of a child. He falls in love with Lolita, and what she represents to him. But of course it鈥檚 not real love; Lolita is just a sexual object to him not a person. So what follows is a story of a man who has convinced himself that his actions are perfectly justified. When he takes a twelve year old child in his arms; it is perfectly fine to his mind because she comes willing. Never mind the fact that he has crafted a situation so that she responds to his advances. She is vulnerable and completely alone in the world; she has no one to turn to in her moment of grief, and the snake is ready to lunge.
Nabokov describes some truly disturbing scenes, though he does so with eloquence bordering on the genius. Sounds odd, considering what I have just described. The content of the book is vile, Humbert is vile, but in a fictionalised world we have to look beyond that. The world is seen through the eyes of Humbert, so everything we see is what he sees and what he experiences. Nabokov uses free-indirect style to narrate some harrowing scenes, the content is vile but the language is beautiful. Again, this is what Humbert experiences. As troubling as this book may be, I argue that this has very strong place in the literary world. Nabokov explores the mind of a sexual predator and I think as readers we can learn a great deal in the process. We can see how the psychological make up of such an individual is formed and we can see what they think and they feel. To understand such a man is the first step towards stopping him and recognising this behaviour in other men.
As a reviewer, I find it of vital importance to read the reviews of others. There鈥檚 a quote on the back of my book from one such review; it says, and I quote 鈥淭here鈥檚 no funnier monster in modern literature than poor, doomed Humbert Humbert.鈥� I cannot quite describe how angry that quote makes me. There is nothing funny about Lolita.This book is terribly serious in content, and Humbert is not a man to be laughed at. What we have is a deeply disturbed individual, one confused and drifting through life, cold and utterly broken inside, and he is about to ruin the life of a young girl.
I don鈥檛 laugh at this book, I weep at its brilliance.
___________________________________
You can connect with me on social media via .
__________________________________
September 15, 2023
Now, this is going to be embarrassing to admit.
As we all should know, reading and enjoying a book is largely about interpretation. People are not the same and we all view things differently; one individual might see a relationship in a book as "passionate" while another could see it as "damaging". When characters make bad decisions, some will view it as stupidity and others will view it as an accurate representation of humanity's imperfections. Not only that, but time often changes the way one person sees things. A teenager does not usually have the same outlook on life and relationships that someone of thirty does, and neither of them have the same outlook as someone of seventy does.
So it's time that I admit, when reading this at thirteen, my younger brain actually romanticised Humbert's depravity and saw the relationship between him and Lolita as some tragic love affair. It was (surprise, surprise) that made me wonder if I'd had a screw loose when reading this years ago. Her interpretation was so far from what I remembered that I simply had to find time for a re-read. This summer, I did just that. I am going to point the shameful finger of blame at my age when I first read it-- I was as fooled by Humbert as the young Lolita was.
Humbert is not a reliable narrator; his declaration that Lolita was responsible for seducing him is repulsive and wrong. Because, in the end, an adult has no excuse for having sex with a child, even if they're walking around half-naked and offering themselves up - adults have a responsibility not to take advantage of children. And I now realise this case is no exception. This is not some tragic romantic tale about forbidden love; it is the story of how a grown man repeatedly raped a young girl. The fact that it is so easy to be taken in by him either says something about how brilliant a writer Nabokov is (which he is), or how much society still loves to blame the victim.
I don't know whether to feel better about my original feelings or be horrified that even the description for the describes the novel as: "a love story almost shocking in its beauty and tenderness." And I also know that I have no right to criticise other people who saw it in such a way, but I would ask you to read it again, to look beyond Humbert's snivelling and self-pity, to see the man who considers murdering a woman so he can be free to have sex with her twelve year old daughter, the man who feels sorry for himself when a young girl doesn't want to have sex with him because she's still hurt from the last time. Is that love? Maybe it was for a thirteen year old looking through Humbert's perverted eyes, but I'm glad I understand it better now.
Nabokov has written a brilliant and disturbing novel; my opinion of it hasn't changed in that respect. I found it surprisingly easy to read and became absorbed quickly - even all those years ago. His portrayal of Humbert's perverted mind is scarily good, perhaps even too good if people can so easily be convinced to side with a paedophile - which is often regarded as the ultimate crime of all, isn't it? Even cold-blooded murderers go after prisoners who've messed with kids. And, as much as I feel ashamed for being so taken in by Humbert, I know that it's not just me who was fooled. Hell, even the GR description proves it. But, believe me, Lolita is a victim and no amount of saddening flashbacks to Humbert's past can change that.
| | | |
As we all should know, reading and enjoying a book is largely about interpretation. People are not the same and we all view things differently; one individual might see a relationship in a book as "passionate" while another could see it as "damaging". When characters make bad decisions, some will view it as stupidity and others will view it as an accurate representation of humanity's imperfections. Not only that, but time often changes the way one person sees things. A teenager does not usually have the same outlook on life and relationships that someone of thirty does, and neither of them have the same outlook as someone of seventy does.
So it's time that I admit, when reading this at thirteen, my younger brain actually romanticised Humbert's depravity and saw the relationship between him and Lolita as some tragic love affair. It was (surprise, surprise) that made me wonder if I'd had a screw loose when reading this years ago. Her interpretation was so far from what I remembered that I simply had to find time for a re-read. This summer, I did just that. I am going to point the shameful finger of blame at my age when I first read it-- I was as fooled by Humbert as the young Lolita was.
Humbert is not a reliable narrator; his declaration that Lolita was responsible for seducing him is repulsive and wrong. Because, in the end, an adult has no excuse for having sex with a child, even if they're walking around half-naked and offering themselves up - adults have a responsibility not to take advantage of children. And I now realise this case is no exception. This is not some tragic romantic tale about forbidden love; it is the story of how a grown man repeatedly raped a young girl. The fact that it is so easy to be taken in by him either says something about how brilliant a writer Nabokov is (which he is), or how much society still loves to blame the victim.
I don't know whether to feel better about my original feelings or be horrified that even the description for the describes the novel as: "a love story almost shocking in its beauty and tenderness." And I also know that I have no right to criticise other people who saw it in such a way, but I would ask you to read it again, to look beyond Humbert's snivelling and self-pity, to see the man who considers murdering a woman so he can be free to have sex with her twelve year old daughter, the man who feels sorry for himself when a young girl doesn't want to have sex with him because she's still hurt from the last time. Is that love? Maybe it was for a thirteen year old looking through Humbert's perverted eyes, but I'm glad I understand it better now.
Nabokov has written a brilliant and disturbing novel; my opinion of it hasn't changed in that respect. I found it surprisingly easy to read and became absorbed quickly - even all those years ago. His portrayal of Humbert's perverted mind is scarily good, perhaps even too good if people can so easily be convinced to side with a paedophile - which is often regarded as the ultimate crime of all, isn't it? Even cold-blooded murderers go after prisoners who've messed with kids. And, as much as I feel ashamed for being so taken in by Humbert, I know that it's not just me who was fooled. Hell, even the GR description proves it. But, believe me, Lolita is a victim and no amount of saddening flashbacks to Humbert's past can change that.
| | | |
April 5, 2020
I wasn't even going to write a review of after finishing it, because, honestly, how many reviews does this classic need? That is, until I started pocking around and reading what others have to say about it. Many reactions to this book are puzzling to me. In this world of and such, there are still people who find this "erotic," who in the end feel some kind of compassion toward the narrator, who think that Lolita was the one who seduced and manipulated poor Humbert? Well, I beg to differ.
is as erotic as is . As for favorable opinions of Humbert, I guess it is possible this effect can be attributed to Nabokov's mastery of deception. Clearly, Humbert still, half a century after the novel's publication, manages to fool readers, and himself, into believing that he is a dedicated, caring lover, wounded and changed by an early tragic romance. Only occasionally does the truth bleed through his self-delusion - Lolita's wistful glance at a child sitting on his father's lap, a simple act that is forever sallied by Humbert's filth, her disinterest in life, her resignation to satisfy him for pocket money and permission to participate in a school play. No, Humbert did not fool me into feeling sorry for him.
On a technical level, deserves full 5 stars - the language, the wit, the world play! - I don't think I've ever read anything like this before. But emotionally this look into a pedophile's psyche is so disgusting, I can't quite bring myself to rate it so. Humbert is so sickly real to me, with his apologies, justifications of his behavior, cowardice, sob stories and bending of reality, how does an author create someone like this? How did Nabokov get such an intimate knowledge of someone so despicable?
is as erotic as is . As for favorable opinions of Humbert, I guess it is possible this effect can be attributed to Nabokov's mastery of deception. Clearly, Humbert still, half a century after the novel's publication, manages to fool readers, and himself, into believing that he is a dedicated, caring lover, wounded and changed by an early tragic romance. Only occasionally does the truth bleed through his self-delusion - Lolita's wistful glance at a child sitting on his father's lap, a simple act that is forever sallied by Humbert's filth, her disinterest in life, her resignation to satisfy him for pocket money and permission to participate in a school play. No, Humbert did not fool me into feeling sorry for him.
On a technical level, deserves full 5 stars - the language, the wit, the world play! - I don't think I've ever read anything like this before. But emotionally this look into a pedophile's psyche is so disgusting, I can't quite bring myself to rate it so. Humbert is so sickly real to me, with his apologies, justifications of his behavior, cowardice, sob stories and bending of reality, how does an author create someone like this? How did Nabokov get such an intimate knowledge of someone so despicable?
December 13, 2023
when i first read this book, i hated every second of it.
while i pride myself on being a reader who can distinguish between narrator and author (a media literacy skill that, much like common sense, the concept of a secret, and outhouses, seems to be going extinct with modernity), i could not bear this read.
when i first read it, i thought that was a bad thing. i dismissed this book as unnecessary and deplorable. i said it had no real goal other than a 鈥渓ook what I can do鈥� school playground-esque literary showoffiness because i needed to read this over weeks, and review it over months, because i found it so very hard to think about.
now it seems obvious to me that therein lies its value.
many people will tell you to read lolita because its prose is stunning, and truly it is. but the real magic of it is in how very much you will find yourself in the mind of evil 鈥� and you will not find it charming. you aren't supposed to. you will suffer and struggle to propel yourself through this read.
and that is an immense feat. to write a book that transports like that.
on top of being one of the most beautifully written books i鈥檝e ever read, if not one of the most beautifully written books in existence, this vanquished me. i can read gore, violence, smut without blinking an eye. i steer clear of horror of all genres because it's never scary, and it's always boring. but this book rattled me. and that made me angry and dismissive.
but the truth is that if this book were a fantasy, full of magic and mystery, set somewhere whimsical and lovely, and managed to root me in it like this book did, i would give it five stars. it'd be my favorite forever.
the fact that this book did the same, but did it with wickedness, with the hair-standing-on-end awareness that there is true horror in this world, is not a detraction from it.
it's incredible.
bottom line: sorry about what i said before.
------------------
pre-review
i hated everything about reading this other than the prose, which was without exception the most beautiful i've ever encountered.
not sure how to go about rating or reviewing that.
but review to come, i suppose
------------------
currently-reading update
me attempting to read this book, take 2
while i pride myself on being a reader who can distinguish between narrator and author (a media literacy skill that, much like common sense, the concept of a secret, and outhouses, seems to be going extinct with modernity), i could not bear this read.
when i first read it, i thought that was a bad thing. i dismissed this book as unnecessary and deplorable. i said it had no real goal other than a 鈥渓ook what I can do鈥� school playground-esque literary showoffiness because i needed to read this over weeks, and review it over months, because i found it so very hard to think about.
now it seems obvious to me that therein lies its value.
many people will tell you to read lolita because its prose is stunning, and truly it is. but the real magic of it is in how very much you will find yourself in the mind of evil 鈥� and you will not find it charming. you aren't supposed to. you will suffer and struggle to propel yourself through this read.
and that is an immense feat. to write a book that transports like that.
on top of being one of the most beautifully written books i鈥檝e ever read, if not one of the most beautifully written books in existence, this vanquished me. i can read gore, violence, smut without blinking an eye. i steer clear of horror of all genres because it's never scary, and it's always boring. but this book rattled me. and that made me angry and dismissive.
but the truth is that if this book were a fantasy, full of magic and mystery, set somewhere whimsical and lovely, and managed to root me in it like this book did, i would give it five stars. it'd be my favorite forever.
the fact that this book did the same, but did it with wickedness, with the hair-standing-on-end awareness that there is true horror in this world, is not a detraction from it.
it's incredible.
bottom line: sorry about what i said before.
------------------
pre-review
i hated everything about reading this other than the prose, which was without exception the most beautiful i've ever encountered.
not sure how to go about rating or reviewing that.
but review to come, i suppose
------------------
currently-reading update
me attempting to read this book, take 2
March 13, 2007
An old friend used to say that "Ulysses" was a good book to read but not a good book to "read". After reading "Lolita" I understand what he meant.
Nabokov was a man obsessed with word games and this book is crammed cover to cover with many brilliant examples. Language delighted the man and that certainly comes across. What makes this acheivement even more amazing was that English was his third or fourth language. It is mind blowing that he or anyone could write so fluidly in a "foreign" tongue. If this was enough to make a novel great then this would be one of my top ten.
But what if, as a reader, you demand that an author make his characters compelling and the narrative involving? I would say then that this book is not for you. Humbert and Dolores Haze (Lolita) only ever (to my mind) become three dimensional at odd moments here and there. He comes off as a mincing, foppish but ultimately unbelievable sort. I never bought into him until very near the end when for a few sentences Nabokov makes his remorse credible. But it is too late for that. I was already annoyed as hell by his rococo narration. The character of Lolita as well is shrill and one note through out. Only intermittently does she come across as worthy of compassion.
As for the story, once the seduction takes place it loses a lot of its forward momentum. It begins to feel repetitive and only comes alive again when Humbert reaches the very end of his self control and attempts to lash out at one he believes wronged him. All in all I think this is a book that could stand to lose about fifty pages.
There is much to love about it though. It could have been truly replusive. Nabokov knew that his concept was already off putting and that the execution need not be so. Rather than serving up spewing fluids and hungry orifices he treats us to healthy doses of wit and charm. Bravo!
"Lolita" is obviously literature with a capital "L." It is a work by a man of letters who happened to be a genius - for that reason alone it deserves reading. Just don't be surprised that once you're done you don't feel like recommending it to anyone.
Nabokov was a man obsessed with word games and this book is crammed cover to cover with many brilliant examples. Language delighted the man and that certainly comes across. What makes this acheivement even more amazing was that English was his third or fourth language. It is mind blowing that he or anyone could write so fluidly in a "foreign" tongue. If this was enough to make a novel great then this would be one of my top ten.
But what if, as a reader, you demand that an author make his characters compelling and the narrative involving? I would say then that this book is not for you. Humbert and Dolores Haze (Lolita) only ever (to my mind) become three dimensional at odd moments here and there. He comes off as a mincing, foppish but ultimately unbelievable sort. I never bought into him until very near the end when for a few sentences Nabokov makes his remorse credible. But it is too late for that. I was already annoyed as hell by his rococo narration. The character of Lolita as well is shrill and one note through out. Only intermittently does she come across as worthy of compassion.
As for the story, once the seduction takes place it loses a lot of its forward momentum. It begins to feel repetitive and only comes alive again when Humbert reaches the very end of his self control and attempts to lash out at one he believes wronged him. All in all I think this is a book that could stand to lose about fifty pages.
There is much to love about it though. It could have been truly replusive. Nabokov knew that his concept was already off putting and that the execution need not be so. Rather than serving up spewing fluids and hungry orifices he treats us to healthy doses of wit and charm. Bravo!
"Lolita" is obviously literature with a capital "L." It is a work by a man of letters who happened to be a genius - for that reason alone it deserves reading. Just don't be surprised that once you're done you don't feel like recommending it to anyone.
July 6, 2020
Update: 06/07/2020
Having just finished A Dark Vanessa, a book I rated 5 stars I am even more certain of my hatred of this book.
Any book where the reader is forced to feel empathy for a pedophile just doesn鈥檛 do it for me. You can call me narrow minded if you like but if it were up to me they would all be castrated and set on fire and I would feel no sadness about it.
Go read A Dark Vanessa for a fantastic portrayal of an abusive relationship between a girl and a grown man. Not this shit.
P.s I鈥檓 probably gonna get loads of shit for this review, I don鈥檛 care. If you liked it great, I鈥檓 glad you got something out of it. But don鈥檛 come at me.
I鈥檓 thinking of DNFing. I鈥檝e been told this is an important book and it makes you think. But the subject matter is just vile and it鈥檚 making me feel ill. I鈥檓 not enjoying it and I don鈥檛 know if I can carry on with it. Maybe one day I鈥檒l try again but today is not that day.
Having just finished A Dark Vanessa, a book I rated 5 stars I am even more certain of my hatred of this book.
Any book where the reader is forced to feel empathy for a pedophile just doesn鈥檛 do it for me. You can call me narrow minded if you like but if it were up to me they would all be castrated and set on fire and I would feel no sadness about it.
Go read A Dark Vanessa for a fantastic portrayal of an abusive relationship between a girl and a grown man. Not this shit.
P.s I鈥檓 probably gonna get loads of shit for this review, I don鈥檛 care. If you liked it great, I鈥檓 glad you got something out of it. But don鈥檛 come at me.
I鈥檓 thinking of DNFing. I鈥檝e been told this is an important book and it makes you think. But the subject matter is just vile and it鈥檚 making me feel ill. I鈥檓 not enjoying it and I don鈥檛 know if I can carry on with it. Maybe one day I鈥檒l try again but today is not that day.
August 24, 2016
I once represented a man who had been accused of statutory rape and sexual exploitation of a minor. I did it because it is my job and I fundamentally believe that everyone, no matter how heinous the crime alleged, deserves a fair trial.
That said, it was the single most unpleasant experience of my legal career and high in the running for most unpleasant all time.
In popular culture we are inundated with scenes of crime and violence, we live in a morally relative landscape where 鈥渢o each his own鈥� is taken to Bohemian extremes.
But sexual attention towards children, in any context, is universally reviled and vilified.
Lo. Lee. Ta.
Vladimir Nabokov鈥檚 1955 novel is masterful prose. Like Joseph Conrad before him, it is understatement to say that his virtuosity in English (not his first language) literature is impressive.
Yes, it is about a pervert, a sex offender, a child rapist. A brute. A monster.
Humbert Humbert names himself such. Whether sympathetic chronicler or unreliable narrator I will leave for each reader鈥檚 interpretation, but either way Nabokov has demonstrated his consummate skill with a character as enigmatic and iconoclastically established in modern literature as to be a shadowy lurker in the black alleys of our most maligned society.
Nabokov鈥檚 narration, told from the prison diary of HH, is erudite, witty and humorous. The author鈥檚 stylish ability is incomparable. In spite of the subject matter I had to laugh many times at the way he crafted his narrative, especially his droll word play and numerous double entendres.
This is presented as a first person letter, recommended by his lawyer, of his unfortunate attraction to 鈥渘ymphets鈥� (a girl child between the ages of 9 and 14) and to his particular seduction of his erstwhile step-daughter Dolores, whom he affectionately calls Lolita. Several times throughout the chronicle the tragi-comic protagonist entreats the attention of the 鈥済entlemen of the jury鈥�. He describes his yearlong affair with the child in words that are at times repentant and remorseful, and at other times attempting a justification and explanation of his acts.
Humburt, a European 茅migr茅 to our shores, also fills his account, 鈥渏oyriding鈥� as they do across America, with an ongoing ironic observation of our culture. Nabakov could use this all as an extended allegory for old world attraction with our new world mores and customs. Lolita, then, would be the central focus of this fascination and a living metaphor for America, at once childlike and alluring.
Brilliantly written with a shamefully outrageous subject, once the reader recovers from the shock quotient (if the reader recovers) this is a wealth of literary genius and style.
That said, it was the single most unpleasant experience of my legal career and high in the running for most unpleasant all time.
In popular culture we are inundated with scenes of crime and violence, we live in a morally relative landscape where 鈥渢o each his own鈥� is taken to Bohemian extremes.
But sexual attention towards children, in any context, is universally reviled and vilified.
Lo. Lee. Ta.
Vladimir Nabokov鈥檚 1955 novel is masterful prose. Like Joseph Conrad before him, it is understatement to say that his virtuosity in English (not his first language) literature is impressive.
Yes, it is about a pervert, a sex offender, a child rapist. A brute. A monster.
Humbert Humbert names himself such. Whether sympathetic chronicler or unreliable narrator I will leave for each reader鈥檚 interpretation, but either way Nabokov has demonstrated his consummate skill with a character as enigmatic and iconoclastically established in modern literature as to be a shadowy lurker in the black alleys of our most maligned society.
Nabokov鈥檚 narration, told from the prison diary of HH, is erudite, witty and humorous. The author鈥檚 stylish ability is incomparable. In spite of the subject matter I had to laugh many times at the way he crafted his narrative, especially his droll word play and numerous double entendres.
This is presented as a first person letter, recommended by his lawyer, of his unfortunate attraction to 鈥渘ymphets鈥� (a girl child between the ages of 9 and 14) and to his particular seduction of his erstwhile step-daughter Dolores, whom he affectionately calls Lolita. Several times throughout the chronicle the tragi-comic protagonist entreats the attention of the 鈥済entlemen of the jury鈥�. He describes his yearlong affair with the child in words that are at times repentant and remorseful, and at other times attempting a justification and explanation of his acts.
Humburt, a European 茅migr茅 to our shores, also fills his account, 鈥渏oyriding鈥� as they do across America, with an ongoing ironic observation of our culture. Nabakov could use this all as an extended allegory for old world attraction with our new world mores and customs. Lolita, then, would be the central focus of this fascination and a living metaphor for America, at once childlike and alluring.
Brilliantly written with a shamefully outrageous subject, once the reader recovers from the shock quotient (if the reader recovers) this is a wealth of literary genius and style.
December 4, 2013
Other formerly shocking novels of previous centuries have lost their power, batteries quite flat (Madame Bovary, Ulysses, Lady Chatterly鈥檚 Lover) 鈥� we love them still but we wince no more, we may be quite amused at the idea that this word or that idea was not allowed in polite society 鈥� we may, indeed, be vastly amused at the very idea of polite society because society is just not very polite at all these days. But uniquely, Lolita, this great and appalling novel, only gets more shocking and more dangerous as the years go by, as more and more paedophilia is uncovered every other day in the news, in nurseries, in hard drives, in the highest of churches, as the paranoia spreads. I found myself quite nervous about even being seen reading Lolita at work. And very glad the cover was an awful grey with a hideous attempt at a butterfly in the corner, and not the suggestive white-socks-and-short-school-skirt of some editions.
Lolita is the blackest of all comedies, the blackness of a deep mine of human corruption with all the canaries long dead in the poisonous atmosphere. It鈥檚 a comedy about depravity. You want to know what depravity is? These days, that鈥檚 a quaint word. Reminds me of that risible phrase of the censors 鈥渁 tendency to deprave and corrupt鈥�. Here is depravity :
This was an orphan. This was a lone child, an absolute waif, with whom a heavy limbed, foul-smelling adult had had strenuous intercourse three times that very morning. (p140)
When, during our longer stops, I would relax after a particularly violent morning in bed, and out of the goodness of my lulled heart allow her 鈥� indulgent Hum! 鈥� to visit the rose garden or the children鈥檚 library鈥� (p160)
Thrusting my fatherly fingers deep into Lo鈥檚 hair from behind, and then gently clasping them around the nape of her neck, I would lead my reluctant pet to our small home for a quick connection before dinner. (p164)
鈥� and her sobs in the night 鈥� every night, every night 鈥� the moment I feigned sleep. (p176)
Depraved is when you don鈥檛 wish to acknowledge the pain you鈥檙e doling out as you feast and guzzle, or, yes, you do acknowledge it, with a sad shrug, oh la, alas, it is sad but that is how it is, or perhaps it鈥檚 when these tears, this misery, makes your pleasure even more piquant and delectable. I think Humbert bounces gently between the three. Yes, poor little Lo. As he says himself:
I entered a plane of being where nothing mattered, save the infusion of joy brewed within my body.
As you read Lolita the uncomfortable feeling steals over you that whilst VN had no direct knowledge of his grisly subject, nevertheless he鈥檇 thought about it a bit too much. In HH鈥檚 mind, and we are never out of it, we go fumbling, frolicking, frottaging and frothing in paroxysms of nympholepsy, we hang over his shoulder the whole time, we鈥檙e with him during every bated glimpse of little Lo鈥檚 long languid limbs, drooling, always drooling, and of course, we're with him from first spurt to last. VN didn鈥檛 have to write about a highly intelligent, highly cultured paedophile. That was his big fat choice.
WHY PAEDOPHILIA?
I stumbled upon this quote from the wonderfully named Leland de la Durantaye in the Village Voice:
To search for the experiences leading to a work of art is as natural as not finding them.
I鈥檓 not altogether sure what VN was up to. Yes, Lolita is a case study, but VN hated Freud and psychoanalysis. Yes, it鈥檚 a criminal confession, but VN was a writer obsessed with self-reflecting introverted solipsistic linguistic game-playing, those are the novels he wrote, from Ada to Pnin to Pale Fire 鈥� parodies all, and he really wasn鈥檛 much interested in realism. If you were picking your team of realistic novelists, Vlad the Impaler wouldn鈥檛 even be a substitute. So it鈥檚 ironic that his one and only famous 鈥� I mean, really famous 鈥� novel is about a giant social problem which is always as fresh as today鈥檚 headlines, and never gets old, just like those nymphets.
LOVE IS THE SWEETEST THING
Perhaps Lolita is VN鈥檚 meditation on love. Because Humbert loves little Lo. He tells us so in such gorgeous sentences that you would have to have a heart of stone not to believe him. That must be it.
This nymphet thing, it鈥檚 an idea, an erotic ideal, not a person. VN鈥檚 Humbert is constantly in search of a human being who most closely embodies this ideal. He鈥檚 actually not interested in little girls at all, finds them unpleasant 鈥� except insofar at they personify the nymphet idea. At that point he turns into a sick junkie whose connection has just arrived. But the girl will only be desirable for two, maybe three years. As soon as the girl in question grows up & passes into adolescence the poor paedophile turns away in disgust. And of course there can be very little connection between the two interested parties except on the level of carnality because one of the parties is a middle-aged male and the other is a 12 year old child. Humbert鈥檚 obsession condemns both of them to profound loneliness, as well as morbid co-dependency 鈥� he can鈥檛 allow either of them to have any normal friendships. This whole hideous situation is laid out for our bug-eyed perusal 鈥� the fulfillment which can only ever be coercive, the love which can only ever be rape, the relationship which can only ever be damaging.
Humbert loves his little Lo. We know because he tells us so.
Don鈥檛 think I can go on. Heart, head 鈥� everything. Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, . Repeat till the page is full, printer. (p109)
And I looked and looked at her and knew as clearly as I know I am to die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else. (p277)
Even if those eyes of hers would fade to myopic fish, and her nipples swell and crack, and her lovely young velvety delta be tainted and torn 鈥� even then would I go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of your dear wan face, at the mere sound of your raccous young voice, my Lolita. (p278)
In 1963 Phil Spector put out a single by The Crystals written by Gerry Goffin and Carole King called 鈥淗e Hit Me (And it Felt Like a Kiss)鈥� 鈥� it took them a week or so to realize that their audience found the song repulsive and it was withdrawn. But that idea of what love is can be found in every other courtroom. I found her in bed with another man so naturally I shot her. I loved her so much but she told me she was leaving so of course I killed her. I couldn鈥檛 stand the thought of her leaving. She died because I loved her. I loved her to death. Day in, day out, this is the love in many men鈥檚 minds. This is the cold polar opposite of If You Love Somebody Set Them Free. That happy sentiment is thought to be Not Love At All by many people. Possession is nine tenths of the conjugal domain. HH owns Lolita, she can鈥檛 go anywhere. He glories in how much his she is.
Oh Lolita, you are my girl, as Vee was Poe鈥檚 and Bea Dante鈥檚, and what little girl would not like to whirl in a circular skirt and scanties? (p107)
Maybe that nasty Nabokov is suggesting that the nature of love is that love does not care about the loved one, not really, it says it does, but when you look at the thing closely, it doesn鈥檛. The weddings, the honeymoons, the diamonds, the sweet words, all of it, maybe that鈥檚 just for your benefit, all bribes. Could even Vlad be that cynical? Maybe.
HUMBERT HUMBERT WAS GAY
I think this theory is reductive, demeaning and wrong. But he was very camp.
THOUSANDS OF LOLITAS
Childhood for girls didn鈥檛 used to be as protected as it is now in the west, and it still isn鈥檛, of course, for many girls in many countries in 2011. Humbert鈥檚 crimes against Lolita would not be seen as crimes at all in many places. There are plenty of tour guides who will assist you if you want to be Humbert for a week or two in Vietman or Cambodia. There鈥檚 thousands of Lolitas out there if that鈥檚 your cup of tea. In the West the Victorians invented childhood* and their earnest reformers tried and eventually succeeded in sweeping away the crowds of child prostitutes which thronged Hyde Park and the other thoroughfares of London as they did in the time of Samuel Johnson. Liberal Western culture has re-engineered the whole notion of childhood but it鈥檚 perpetually under attack
From the Lancashire telegraph
鈥楧on鈥檛 take away their childhood鈥� say East Lancashire mums
2:40pm Wednesday 22nd June 2011
PUSH up bras for nine-year-olds, 鈥榃AG鈥� slogan T-shirts for pre-schoolers and high heeled shoes for toddlers. These might sound like ludicrous concepts, but over the past year a string of high street retailers have been criticised for selling such items.
VERY ODD
Lolita is a strange book. After grinding away in the literary undergrowth for decades, catching butterflies and dodging Nazis, VN spent 5 years writing it and a couple more years finding a publisher, and then WHAM! Number one best-seller. Fame, notoriety, and heaps of crisp dollar notes came raining down. He quit his job and left America, lived a swish life in Switzerland. He was in his late 50s and he鈥檚 written a novel everyone wanted to read and 鈥� I am going to guess 鈥� few people actually finished. Lolita displaced Anatomy of a Murder as the No 1 bestseller, and was replaced in turn by Doctor Zhivago. Those first eager purchasers, they were looking for a shocking frolick, and they got a second James Joyce, brilliant, wild, too clever by half, terrifying, witty, revolting and, of course, ferociously cultivated. Was that what they wanted?
You read novels and you think well, this was good, but that plot there or this conclusion or that style could have been improved, you know, so, only 3.5 stars. But Lolita is a novel which writes its own rules, a mesmerising mashup of horror, beauty, wildness, syntactical dexterity and adventures in extreme obsession and extreme vocabulary, a novel that I am amazed exists at all.
*
Lolita is the blackest of all comedies, the blackness of a deep mine of human corruption with all the canaries long dead in the poisonous atmosphere. It鈥檚 a comedy about depravity. You want to know what depravity is? These days, that鈥檚 a quaint word. Reminds me of that risible phrase of the censors 鈥渁 tendency to deprave and corrupt鈥�. Here is depravity :
This was an orphan. This was a lone child, an absolute waif, with whom a heavy limbed, foul-smelling adult had had strenuous intercourse three times that very morning. (p140)
When, during our longer stops, I would relax after a particularly violent morning in bed, and out of the goodness of my lulled heart allow her 鈥� indulgent Hum! 鈥� to visit the rose garden or the children鈥檚 library鈥� (p160)
Thrusting my fatherly fingers deep into Lo鈥檚 hair from behind, and then gently clasping them around the nape of her neck, I would lead my reluctant pet to our small home for a quick connection before dinner. (p164)
鈥� and her sobs in the night 鈥� every night, every night 鈥� the moment I feigned sleep. (p176)
Depraved is when you don鈥檛 wish to acknowledge the pain you鈥檙e doling out as you feast and guzzle, or, yes, you do acknowledge it, with a sad shrug, oh la, alas, it is sad but that is how it is, or perhaps it鈥檚 when these tears, this misery, makes your pleasure even more piquant and delectable. I think Humbert bounces gently between the three. Yes, poor little Lo. As he says himself:
I entered a plane of being where nothing mattered, save the infusion of joy brewed within my body.
As you read Lolita the uncomfortable feeling steals over you that whilst VN had no direct knowledge of his grisly subject, nevertheless he鈥檇 thought about it a bit too much. In HH鈥檚 mind, and we are never out of it, we go fumbling, frolicking, frottaging and frothing in paroxysms of nympholepsy, we hang over his shoulder the whole time, we鈥檙e with him during every bated glimpse of little Lo鈥檚 long languid limbs, drooling, always drooling, and of course, we're with him from first spurt to last. VN didn鈥檛 have to write about a highly intelligent, highly cultured paedophile. That was his big fat choice.
WHY PAEDOPHILIA?
I stumbled upon this quote from the wonderfully named Leland de la Durantaye in the Village Voice:
To search for the experiences leading to a work of art is as natural as not finding them.
I鈥檓 not altogether sure what VN was up to. Yes, Lolita is a case study, but VN hated Freud and psychoanalysis. Yes, it鈥檚 a criminal confession, but VN was a writer obsessed with self-reflecting introverted solipsistic linguistic game-playing, those are the novels he wrote, from Ada to Pnin to Pale Fire 鈥� parodies all, and he really wasn鈥檛 much interested in realism. If you were picking your team of realistic novelists, Vlad the Impaler wouldn鈥檛 even be a substitute. So it鈥檚 ironic that his one and only famous 鈥� I mean, really famous 鈥� novel is about a giant social problem which is always as fresh as today鈥檚 headlines, and never gets old, just like those nymphets.
LOVE IS THE SWEETEST THING
Perhaps Lolita is VN鈥檚 meditation on love. Because Humbert loves little Lo. He tells us so in such gorgeous sentences that you would have to have a heart of stone not to believe him. That must be it.
This nymphet thing, it鈥檚 an idea, an erotic ideal, not a person. VN鈥檚 Humbert is constantly in search of a human being who most closely embodies this ideal. He鈥檚 actually not interested in little girls at all, finds them unpleasant 鈥� except insofar at they personify the nymphet idea. At that point he turns into a sick junkie whose connection has just arrived. But the girl will only be desirable for two, maybe three years. As soon as the girl in question grows up & passes into adolescence the poor paedophile turns away in disgust. And of course there can be very little connection between the two interested parties except on the level of carnality because one of the parties is a middle-aged male and the other is a 12 year old child. Humbert鈥檚 obsession condemns both of them to profound loneliness, as well as morbid co-dependency 鈥� he can鈥檛 allow either of them to have any normal friendships. This whole hideous situation is laid out for our bug-eyed perusal 鈥� the fulfillment which can only ever be coercive, the love which can only ever be rape, the relationship which can only ever be damaging.
Humbert loves his little Lo. We know because he tells us so.
Don鈥檛 think I can go on. Heart, head 鈥� everything. Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, . Repeat till the page is full, printer. (p109)
And I looked and looked at her and knew as clearly as I know I am to die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else. (p277)
Even if those eyes of hers would fade to myopic fish, and her nipples swell and crack, and her lovely young velvety delta be tainted and torn 鈥� even then would I go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of your dear wan face, at the mere sound of your raccous young voice, my Lolita. (p278)
In 1963 Phil Spector put out a single by The Crystals written by Gerry Goffin and Carole King called 鈥淗e Hit Me (And it Felt Like a Kiss)鈥� 鈥� it took them a week or so to realize that their audience found the song repulsive and it was withdrawn. But that idea of what love is can be found in every other courtroom. I found her in bed with another man so naturally I shot her. I loved her so much but she told me she was leaving so of course I killed her. I couldn鈥檛 stand the thought of her leaving. She died because I loved her. I loved her to death. Day in, day out, this is the love in many men鈥檚 minds. This is the cold polar opposite of If You Love Somebody Set Them Free. That happy sentiment is thought to be Not Love At All by many people. Possession is nine tenths of the conjugal domain. HH owns Lolita, she can鈥檛 go anywhere. He glories in how much his she is.
Oh Lolita, you are my girl, as Vee was Poe鈥檚 and Bea Dante鈥檚, and what little girl would not like to whirl in a circular skirt and scanties? (p107)
Maybe that nasty Nabokov is suggesting that the nature of love is that love does not care about the loved one, not really, it says it does, but when you look at the thing closely, it doesn鈥檛. The weddings, the honeymoons, the diamonds, the sweet words, all of it, maybe that鈥檚 just for your benefit, all bribes. Could even Vlad be that cynical? Maybe.
HUMBERT HUMBERT WAS GAY
I think this theory is reductive, demeaning and wrong. But he was very camp.
THOUSANDS OF LOLITAS
Childhood for girls didn鈥檛 used to be as protected as it is now in the west, and it still isn鈥檛, of course, for many girls in many countries in 2011. Humbert鈥檚 crimes against Lolita would not be seen as crimes at all in many places. There are plenty of tour guides who will assist you if you want to be Humbert for a week or two in Vietman or Cambodia. There鈥檚 thousands of Lolitas out there if that鈥檚 your cup of tea. In the West the Victorians invented childhood* and their earnest reformers tried and eventually succeeded in sweeping away the crowds of child prostitutes which thronged Hyde Park and the other thoroughfares of London as they did in the time of Samuel Johnson. Liberal Western culture has re-engineered the whole notion of childhood but it鈥檚 perpetually under attack
From the Lancashire telegraph
鈥楧on鈥檛 take away their childhood鈥� say East Lancashire mums
2:40pm Wednesday 22nd June 2011
PUSH up bras for nine-year-olds, 鈥榃AG鈥� slogan T-shirts for pre-schoolers and high heeled shoes for toddlers. These might sound like ludicrous concepts, but over the past year a string of high street retailers have been criticised for selling such items.
VERY ODD
Lolita is a strange book. After grinding away in the literary undergrowth for decades, catching butterflies and dodging Nazis, VN spent 5 years writing it and a couple more years finding a publisher, and then WHAM! Number one best-seller. Fame, notoriety, and heaps of crisp dollar notes came raining down. He quit his job and left America, lived a swish life in Switzerland. He was in his late 50s and he鈥檚 written a novel everyone wanted to read and 鈥� I am going to guess 鈥� few people actually finished. Lolita displaced Anatomy of a Murder as the No 1 bestseller, and was replaced in turn by Doctor Zhivago. Those first eager purchasers, they were looking for a shocking frolick, and they got a second James Joyce, brilliant, wild, too clever by half, terrifying, witty, revolting and, of course, ferociously cultivated. Was that what they wanted?
You read novels and you think well, this was good, but that plot there or this conclusion or that style could have been improved, you know, so, only 3.5 stars. But Lolita is a novel which writes its own rules, a mesmerising mashup of horror, beauty, wildness, syntactical dexterity and adventures in extreme obsession and extreme vocabulary, a novel that I am amazed exists at all.
*
August 17, 2024
鈥淚 didn鈥檛 say I liked it. I said it fascinated me. There is a great difference.鈥� - Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
Nabokov is brilliant because if you had to write a character, one of the least sympathetic characters would be a pedophile. However, this is exactly who our main character is.
Lolita centers on Humbert Humbert, a man obsessed with a 12-year old girl. He unapologetically describes his obsession, how he willingly sacrifices his entire life for her.
Lolita is fleeting. Humbert understands that the girl will age and outgrow his obsession. What is disturbing is that almost all romantic relationships follow a similar timeline.
When we first fall in love, our brains are awash in high levels of dopamine, high levels of cortisol, and low levels of serotonin. Serotonin is associated with obsessive-compulsive behaviors. Have you ever tried not to think of someone but are drawn helplessly back? Thanks, Serotonin!
After one or two years, the cortisol and serotonin return to normal levels. Now, will your 鈥渓ove鈥� really last, when you realize that the person sitting across from you actually has faults and imperfections?
On this reread of Lolita, I am now plagued by the question: Is Humbert telling the truth? Do I believe that the events unfolded as he described them? If the eyes are the window to the soul, why do we first meet Lolita with sunglasses on?
There is an interesting on Lolita found on YouTube.
The lecturer asked, 鈥淲ould you like to have dinner with Humbert Humbert (understanding that the entire audience is outside the age of a nymphet)?鈥�
How much do you believe Vladimir Nabokov personally is reflected in the novel?
Do you think Mr. Humbert is sorry for his obsession?
Does Mr. Humbert trivialize what he is doing in the novel?
Lolita is a retelling of sorts. At the beginning of the book, Humbert describes a relationship with Annabel Lee. This is actually a poem by Edgar Allan Poe.
If you enjoyed Lolita, you may also want to check out My Dark Vanessa.
How much I spent:
Softcover text (Penguin Classics version) - $11.69 at Blackwell's
Audiobook 鈥� 1 Audible Credit (Audible Premium Plus Annual 鈥� 24 Credits Membership Plan $229.50 or roughly $9.56 per credit)
2025 Reading Schedule
Jan A Town Like Alice
Feb Birdsong
Mar Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Berniere
Apr War and Peace
May The Woman in White
Jun Atonement
Jul The Shadow of the Wind
Aug Jude the Obscure
Sep Ulysses
Oct Vanity Fair
Nov A Fine Balance
Dec Germinal
Connect With Me!
Nabokov is brilliant because if you had to write a character, one of the least sympathetic characters would be a pedophile. However, this is exactly who our main character is.
Lolita centers on Humbert Humbert, a man obsessed with a 12-year old girl. He unapologetically describes his obsession, how he willingly sacrifices his entire life for her.
Lolita is fleeting. Humbert understands that the girl will age and outgrow his obsession. What is disturbing is that almost all romantic relationships follow a similar timeline.
When we first fall in love, our brains are awash in high levels of dopamine, high levels of cortisol, and low levels of serotonin. Serotonin is associated with obsessive-compulsive behaviors. Have you ever tried not to think of someone but are drawn helplessly back? Thanks, Serotonin!
After one or two years, the cortisol and serotonin return to normal levels. Now, will your 鈥渓ove鈥� really last, when you realize that the person sitting across from you actually has faults and imperfections?
On this reread of Lolita, I am now plagued by the question: Is Humbert telling the truth? Do I believe that the events unfolded as he described them? If the eyes are the window to the soul, why do we first meet Lolita with sunglasses on?
There is an interesting on Lolita found on YouTube.
The lecturer asked, 鈥淲ould you like to have dinner with Humbert Humbert (understanding that the entire audience is outside the age of a nymphet)?鈥�
How much do you believe Vladimir Nabokov personally is reflected in the novel?
Do you think Mr. Humbert is sorry for his obsession?
Does Mr. Humbert trivialize what he is doing in the novel?
Lolita is a retelling of sorts. At the beginning of the book, Humbert describes a relationship with Annabel Lee. This is actually a poem by Edgar Allan Poe.
If you enjoyed Lolita, you may also want to check out My Dark Vanessa.
How much I spent:
Softcover text (Penguin Classics version) - $11.69 at Blackwell's
Audiobook 鈥� 1 Audible Credit (Audible Premium Plus Annual 鈥� 24 Credits Membership Plan $229.50 or roughly $9.56 per credit)
2025 Reading Schedule
Jan A Town Like Alice
Feb Birdsong
Mar Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Berniere
Apr War and Peace
May The Woman in White
Jun Atonement
Jul The Shadow of the Wind
Aug Jude the Obscure
Sep Ulysses
Oct Vanity Fair
Nov A Fine Balance
Dec Germinal
Connect With Me!
Want to read
July 7, 2022WHY DID VANITY FAIR SAY 鈥淭he only convincing love story of our century.鈥� ON THE BACK OF THIS EDITION鈥� DID THEY READ THE BOOK????
April 4, 2022
Astoundingly beautiful prose, a self-aware psychotic narrator who is both unapologetic and yet disgusted by his crime...so many themes in this book, so much symmetry (342).
Humbert Humbert knows he is both brilliant and insanely obsessed with pre-pubescent girls. He tortures his psychiatrists "cunningly leading them on; never letting them see [he] knew every trick of the trade" (P. 34). He becomes a lodger with Ms. Haze, a widow, and sees his nymphet in her yard, "a blue sea-wave swelled under [his] heart and, from a mat in a pool of sun, half-naked, kneeling, turning about on her knees, there was my Riviera love peering at me over dark glasses." (P. 39) He obsesses over Lo listening - in his fateful diary - to details as minor as "the staccato sound [a toilet paper roll makes] as it turns." (P. 49). The text is both reprehensible and hilarious, the writing always being of a sublimely dreamy quality. Was Roth inspired by this scene when he wrote of Nathan Zuckerman hunting around the room of Amy Bellette in ?
Fate throws HH and his Lo together (no spoilers, I promise). HH holds a reformatory existence over her as a ransom for the naughtiness he extracts. There are a few epic road trips:
"As we pushed westward, patches of what the garbage-man called 'sage brush' appeared, and then the mysterious outlines of table-like hills, and then red bluffs ink-blotted with junipers, and then a mountain range, dun grading into blue, and blue into dream, and the desert would meet us with a steady gale, dust, gray thorn bushes, and hideous bits of tissue paper mimicking pale flowers among the prickles of wind-tortured withered stalks all along the highway; in the middle of which there sometimes stood simple cows, immobilized in a position (tail left, eyelashes right) cutting across all human rules of traffic." (P. 153)
How did Nabokov pull this off? He arrived in the US in 1941 and conceived Lolita during a drive out in the Western US in 1955 (otherwise how could you explain the precision and realism of the above sentence?) This being his third work in a non-native English language (translated by him back to Russian in 1965 - parenthetically are there any Russophones reading this post that have read both the English and Russian Lolitas? What is the Russian one like?)
I love this description of an otherwise nondescript gas station in the middle of nowhere:
"I stared in such dull discomfort of mind at those stationary trivialities that looked almost surprised, like staring rustics, to find themselves in the stranded traveler's field of vision: that green garbage can, those very black, very whitewalled tires for sale, those bright cans of motor oil, that red icebox with assorted drinks, the four, five, seven discarded bottles within the incomplete crossword puzzle of their wooden cells, that bug patiently walking up the inside of the window of the office." (P. 211)
I could only dream of aspiring to write descriptions like that, and English is my native language. Pure genius.
There is a lot of tennis in the novel, particularly towards the end leading me to wonder if DFW was a huge Nabakov fan (being similarly obsessed with the sport.) Here is a description of chess that certainly must have given DFW some inspiration:
"I saw the board as a square as of limpid water with rare shells and stratagems rosily visible upon the smooth tessellated bottom, which to my confused adversary was all ooze and squid-cloud." (P. 233)
There is a wonderful little poem near the end:
"The moral sense in mortals is the duty
We have to pay on mortal sense of beauty." (P. 283)
The central problem in the novel is of course HH's seduction of Lo and her sometimes complicity (rebelling against the mother who never loved her). But both he and Lo are aware that he is a sham:
"It had become gradually clear to my conventional Lolita during our singular and bestial cohabitation that even the most miserable of family lives was better than the parody of incest, which, in the long run, was the best I could offer the waif." (P. 287)
Nabokov insisted that there is no moral to this novel - it is neither a condoning nor condemnation of incest. That kind of judgmental attitude would clearly have ruined the text. That being said, we clearly see that HH is a hopeless pervert and a predator, a father's worst nightmare- and we see how Lo ends up - lost, but defiant to the end.
The topic is, of course, extremely taboo, but Nabakov鈥檚 gift to get inside HH鈥檚 head and show us how dark and twisted his rationale is, as well as the clear damage it causes to Lolita serves to condemn the aspect of using one鈥檚 intellectual and physical power as well as a way of subjugating a young victim to predation. That this particular victim revealed her inner strength in both the struggle and the capitulation is what makes it great literature. If we contrast this with Boris Vian鈥檚 from 1946, where raping little girls is just a way of blowing off steam and rebelling against the system, we see that Lolita and HH are self-conscious characters whereas the first-person protagonist in Vian is just a licentious, violent psychopath with zero guilt or restraint and with no conscience other than some racist, pseudo-socialist ideals.
Lolita is a novel of extraordinary power and beauty in which Nabokov challenges us to read beyond our disgust and fear and live uncomfortably in HH's mind for 300 beautifully written pages. Hard to forget and impossible to ignore, it is Nabokov's greatest contribution to literature imo.
Humbert Humbert knows he is both brilliant and insanely obsessed with pre-pubescent girls. He tortures his psychiatrists "cunningly leading them on; never letting them see [he] knew every trick of the trade" (P. 34). He becomes a lodger with Ms. Haze, a widow, and sees his nymphet in her yard, "a blue sea-wave swelled under [his] heart and, from a mat in a pool of sun, half-naked, kneeling, turning about on her knees, there was my Riviera love peering at me over dark glasses." (P. 39) He obsesses over Lo listening - in his fateful diary - to details as minor as "the staccato sound [a toilet paper roll makes] as it turns." (P. 49). The text is both reprehensible and hilarious, the writing always being of a sublimely dreamy quality. Was Roth inspired by this scene when he wrote of Nathan Zuckerman hunting around the room of Amy Bellette in ?
Fate throws HH and his Lo together (no spoilers, I promise). HH holds a reformatory existence over her as a ransom for the naughtiness he extracts. There are a few epic road trips:
"As we pushed westward, patches of what the garbage-man called 'sage brush' appeared, and then the mysterious outlines of table-like hills, and then red bluffs ink-blotted with junipers, and then a mountain range, dun grading into blue, and blue into dream, and the desert would meet us with a steady gale, dust, gray thorn bushes, and hideous bits of tissue paper mimicking pale flowers among the prickles of wind-tortured withered stalks all along the highway; in the middle of which there sometimes stood simple cows, immobilized in a position (tail left, eyelashes right) cutting across all human rules of traffic." (P. 153)
How did Nabokov pull this off? He arrived in the US in 1941 and conceived Lolita during a drive out in the Western US in 1955 (otherwise how could you explain the precision and realism of the above sentence?) This being his third work in a non-native English language (translated by him back to Russian in 1965 - parenthetically are there any Russophones reading this post that have read both the English and Russian Lolitas? What is the Russian one like?)
I love this description of an otherwise nondescript gas station in the middle of nowhere:
"I stared in such dull discomfort of mind at those stationary trivialities that looked almost surprised, like staring rustics, to find themselves in the stranded traveler's field of vision: that green garbage can, those very black, very whitewalled tires for sale, those bright cans of motor oil, that red icebox with assorted drinks, the four, five, seven discarded bottles within the incomplete crossword puzzle of their wooden cells, that bug patiently walking up the inside of the window of the office." (P. 211)
I could only dream of aspiring to write descriptions like that, and English is my native language. Pure genius.
There is a lot of tennis in the novel, particularly towards the end leading me to wonder if DFW was a huge Nabakov fan (being similarly obsessed with the sport.) Here is a description of chess that certainly must have given DFW some inspiration:
"I saw the board as a square as of limpid water with rare shells and stratagems rosily visible upon the smooth tessellated bottom, which to my confused adversary was all ooze and squid-cloud." (P. 233)
There is a wonderful little poem near the end:
"The moral sense in mortals is the duty
We have to pay on mortal sense of beauty." (P. 283)
The central problem in the novel is of course HH's seduction of Lo and her sometimes complicity (rebelling against the mother who never loved her). But both he and Lo are aware that he is a sham:
"It had become gradually clear to my conventional Lolita during our singular and bestial cohabitation that even the most miserable of family lives was better than the parody of incest, which, in the long run, was the best I could offer the waif." (P. 287)
Nabokov insisted that there is no moral to this novel - it is neither a condoning nor condemnation of incest. That kind of judgmental attitude would clearly have ruined the text. That being said, we clearly see that HH is a hopeless pervert and a predator, a father's worst nightmare- and we see how Lo ends up - lost, but defiant to the end.
The topic is, of course, extremely taboo, but Nabakov鈥檚 gift to get inside HH鈥檚 head and show us how dark and twisted his rationale is, as well as the clear damage it causes to Lolita serves to condemn the aspect of using one鈥檚 intellectual and physical power as well as a way of subjugating a young victim to predation. That this particular victim revealed her inner strength in both the struggle and the capitulation is what makes it great literature. If we contrast this with Boris Vian鈥檚 from 1946, where raping little girls is just a way of blowing off steam and rebelling against the system, we see that Lolita and HH are self-conscious characters whereas the first-person protagonist in Vian is just a licentious, violent psychopath with zero guilt or restraint and with no conscience other than some racist, pseudo-socialist ideals.
Lolita is a novel of extraordinary power and beauty in which Nabokov challenges us to read beyond our disgust and fear and live uncomfortably in HH's mind for 300 beautifully written pages. Hard to forget and impossible to ignore, it is Nabokov's greatest contribution to literature imo.
August 31, 2021
賷賵賲賷丕鬲 賲鬲丨乇卮 亘丕賱兀胤賮丕賱
:::::::::::::::::::::
爻: 毓乇賮 丕賱毓賲賱 丕賱兀丿亘賷 丕賱賰賱丕爻賷賰賷
噩 賴賵 毓賲賱 睾丕賱亘賸丕 賱丕 鬲爻鬲胤賷毓 兀賳 鬲賮賴賲 爻亘亘 卮賴乇鬲賴 賵禺賱賵丿賴
賲賴賲丕 丨丕賵賱鬲 丕賱鬲賲丨賷氐 賵丕賱鬲賮丨賷氐
賮賱丕 卮賷亍 爻賵賶 賱爻丕賳 胤賵賷賱 胤賵賷賱 賷禺乇噩 賱賰
賲爻鬲賴夭亍丕 亘丕賱賷賵賲 丕賱賱賷 - 丕鬲賴亘賱鬲 賮賷賴 賮 毓賯賱賰 賵賯賱鬲 賷丕乇賵丕賷丕鬲
賵賯丿 賷氐丕丨亘 匕賱賰 賲丨丕賵賱丕鬲 賲鬲賰乇乇丞 賮賷 卮丿 卮毓乇賰 賲爻鬲賲賷鬲丕 賮賷 丕賱賲丨丕賵賱丞
賱賲丕 賴匕丕 丕賱爻賮賴 賯丿 賷毓鬲亘乇 毓賲賱賻丕 兀丿亘賷丕 禺丕賱丿丕責責
;;;;;;;;;;
丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 鬲亘乇夭 廿賲賰丕賳丕鬲 賳丕亘丕賰賵賮 丕賱囟毓賷賮丞 賵丕賱賲孬賷乇丞 賱賱卮賮賯丞
-賲毓 賲乇丕毓丕丞 丕賱夭賲賳 丕賱匕賷 賰鬲亘鬲 賮賷賴 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞
賮匕賱賰 丕賱爻乇丿 賵鬲賱賰 丕賱賱睾丞 賱丕 賷鬲乇賰丕賳 賲噩丕賱丕 賱賱卮賰
賵賰兀賳 賴匕丕 丕賱乇噩賱 賯丿 兀賯爻賲 亘兀睾賱馗 丕賱兀賷賲丕賳 毓賱賶 賮賯毓 賲乇丕乇丞 賯丕乇卅賴
賮亘毓賷丿丕 毓賳 丕賱丕卮賲卅夭丕夭 丕賱賲賲夭賵噩 乇亘賲丕 亘亘毓囟 丕賱丨夭賳
毓賱賶 丨丕賱 丕賱賮鬲丕丞 丕賱賲爻賰賷賳丞 丕賱鬲賷 鬲睾鬲氐亘 賷賵賲賷丕
鬲噩丿 兀賳 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 爻禺賷賮丞 賱丕 鬲孬賷乇 賮賷 賳賮爻賰 丕賷 賲卮丕毓乇 兀賵 賲鬲毓丞 兀丿亘賷丞
廿賳賴丕 氐賮丨丕鬲 賲賳 丕賱賲賱賱 丕賱氐乇賮
亘胤賱 賱丕 鬲鬲毓丕胤賮 賲毓賴
賮鬲丕丞 賱丕 鬲丨丕賵賱 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 廿囟丕賮丞 亘毓丿丕 兀賵 毓賲賯丕 賱卮禺氐賷鬲賴丕
丨丿賵鬲丞 賱丕 鬲噩匕亘賰 亘丨丕賱
;;;;;;;;;;
賱賵賱賷鬲丕 丕賱賯鬲丕丞 匕丕鬲 丕賱廿孬賳賷 毓卮乇 乇亘賷毓丕
"賴賷 賵丕丨丿丞 賲賳 "丕賱丨賵乇賷丕鬲 丕賱賲爻毓賵乇丕鬲
賰賲丕 賷爻賲賷賴賳 丕賱亘胤賱 丕賱賴賲丕賲
賵賴賵 乇噩賱 乇丕卅毓 賷賯丿乇 丕賱胤賮賱丕鬲 丕賱亘乇賷卅丕鬲 賰孬賷乇丞
賵賱丕 賷卮亘毓 賲賳 乇睾亘鬲賴 丕賱賳賴賲丞 賮賷賴賳
賵匕賱賰 賯丿乇 賲丕 賴賵 丨賳賵賳 賵賳亘賷賱
O:)
兀丨賷丕賳丕 賷噩乇亘 丕賱賳爻丕亍 丕賱賳丕囟噩丕鬲-賲丕 賴賷 丨丕噩丞 亘亘賱丕卮 賰丿賴
賵匕賱賰 賱爻丿 丕賱丨丕噩丞 丨賷賳 鬲賮賷囟 丕賱卮賴賵丞 毓賳 丕賱丨丿-丕賲賾丕賱 賴賷毓賲賱 丕賷賴 賷毓賳賷
:'(
賵胤賵丕賱 兀丨丿丕孬 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 丕賱賲賷賲賵賳丞
賷丨丿孬賰 丕賱亘胤賱 丕賱(丨賵賳賷賳 亘丕賱賯賵賷) 毓賳 乇睾亘丕鬲賴 丕賱卮乇賷賮丞 鬲賱賰
毓賳 賰賷賮 亘丿兀鬲 賲毓賴 賵賰賷賮 丨丕乇亘賴丕 (賷丕毓賷賷賷賷賳賷 賷丕禺賵賷賷丕) 丨鬲賶 睾賱亘鬲賴
孬賲 賷爻鬲賲乇 睾丕賱亘丕 賮賷 賵氐賮 卮亘賯賴 丕賱匕賷 賱丕 賷賳鬲賴賷 賱噩爻丿 丕賱賮鬲丕丞 丕賱賲爻賰賷賳
兀賲丕 毓賳 丕賱兀丨丿丕孬 丕賱賯賱賷賱丞 丕賱賲鬲亘賯賷丞
賵丕賱鬲賷 馗賳 丕賱賰丕鬲亘 兀賳賴 亘賴丕 賷毓賲賯 乇賵丕賷鬲賴 賵賷賰爻亘賴丕 賯賷賲丞 兀丿亘賷丞
賮賴賷 丨賯丕 鬲亘賴乇賰
-兀賳丕 賰賴丿賶 丕賳亘賴乇鬲
賮丕賱亘胤賱 賷賵丕噩賴 -丨亘賷亘 賯賱亘 兀賲賴 丨賰賲丕 亘丕賱廿毓丿丕賲
賵賱賵賱賷鬲丕 鬲鬲夭賵噩 賲賳 丌禺乇 亘毓丿賲丕 賰亘乇鬲
賵丕賱丨賯賷賯丞 賲賲賰賳 鬲賰賲賱 丕賱亘丕賯賷 賲賳 兀賷 賲爻賱爻賱 毓乇亘賷 賷毓噩亘賰
兀賲丕 毓賳 胤乇賷賯丞 丕賱爻乇丿
賮卮毓乇鬲 丿賵賲丕 賮賷 丕賱爻胤賵乇 丕賱鬲賷 賰丕賳 賷丨丕賵賱 兀賳 賷鬲賮賱爻賮 賮賷賴丕
亘丨匕賱賯丞 賵 鬲賰賱賮 賵爻禺賮 睾賷乇 賲亘乇乇 毓賱賶 丕賱廿胤賱丕賯
;;;;;;;;;;
亘丕禺鬲氐丕乇 賱賲 兀丨亘賴丕
賱賲 鬲噩匕亘賳賷
兀賳丿賲 毓賱賶 丕賱賵賯鬲 丕賱匕賷 囟賷毓鬲賴 賲賳鬲馗乇丞 兀賳 鬲亘丿兀 丕賱賯氐丞 亘丕賱鬲丨爻賳
賳氐賷丨丞#
賲鬲賯乇丕赖丕卮
丕賱丿賳賷丕 賮賷賴丕 賰鬲亘 毓馗賷賲丞 賵毓亘賯乇賷丞 賰鬲賷乇
賱賲丕 賳禺賱氐賴賲 丕賱兀賵賱
:::::::::::::::::::::
爻: 毓乇賮 丕賱毓賲賱 丕賱兀丿亘賷 丕賱賰賱丕爻賷賰賷
噩 賴賵 毓賲賱 睾丕賱亘賸丕 賱丕 鬲爻鬲胤賷毓 兀賳 鬲賮賴賲 爻亘亘 卮賴乇鬲賴 賵禺賱賵丿賴
賲賴賲丕 丨丕賵賱鬲 丕賱鬲賲丨賷氐 賵丕賱鬲賮丨賷氐
賮賱丕 卮賷亍 爻賵賶 賱爻丕賳 胤賵賷賱 胤賵賷賱 賷禺乇噩 賱賰
賲爻鬲賴夭亍丕 亘丕賱賷賵賲 丕賱賱賷 - 丕鬲賴亘賱鬲 賮賷賴 賮 毓賯賱賰 賵賯賱鬲 賷丕乇賵丕賷丕鬲
賵賯丿 賷氐丕丨亘 匕賱賰 賲丨丕賵賱丕鬲 賲鬲賰乇乇丞 賮賷 卮丿 卮毓乇賰 賲爻鬲賲賷鬲丕 賮賷 丕賱賲丨丕賵賱丞
賱賲丕 賴匕丕 丕賱爻賮賴 賯丿 賷毓鬲亘乇 毓賲賱賻丕 兀丿亘賷丕 禺丕賱丿丕責責
;;;;;;;;;;
丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 鬲亘乇夭 廿賲賰丕賳丕鬲 賳丕亘丕賰賵賮 丕賱囟毓賷賮丞 賵丕賱賲孬賷乇丞 賱賱卮賮賯丞
-賲毓 賲乇丕毓丕丞 丕賱夭賲賳 丕賱匕賷 賰鬲亘鬲 賮賷賴 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞
賮匕賱賰 丕賱爻乇丿 賵鬲賱賰 丕賱賱睾丞 賱丕 賷鬲乇賰丕賳 賲噩丕賱丕 賱賱卮賰
賵賰兀賳 賴匕丕 丕賱乇噩賱 賯丿 兀賯爻賲 亘兀睾賱馗 丕賱兀賷賲丕賳 毓賱賶 賮賯毓 賲乇丕乇丞 賯丕乇卅賴
賮亘毓賷丿丕 毓賳 丕賱丕卮賲卅夭丕夭 丕賱賲賲夭賵噩 乇亘賲丕 亘亘毓囟 丕賱丨夭賳
毓賱賶 丨丕賱 丕賱賮鬲丕丞 丕賱賲爻賰賷賳丞 丕賱鬲賷 鬲睾鬲氐亘 賷賵賲賷丕
鬲噩丿 兀賳 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 爻禺賷賮丞 賱丕 鬲孬賷乇 賮賷 賳賮爻賰 丕賷 賲卮丕毓乇 兀賵 賲鬲毓丞 兀丿亘賷丞
廿賳賴丕 氐賮丨丕鬲 賲賳 丕賱賲賱賱 丕賱氐乇賮
亘胤賱 賱丕 鬲鬲毓丕胤賮 賲毓賴
賮鬲丕丞 賱丕 鬲丨丕賵賱 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 廿囟丕賮丞 亘毓丿丕 兀賵 毓賲賯丕 賱卮禺氐賷鬲賴丕
丨丿賵鬲丞 賱丕 鬲噩匕亘賰 亘丨丕賱
;;;;;;;;;;
賱賵賱賷鬲丕 丕賱賯鬲丕丞 匕丕鬲 丕賱廿孬賳賷 毓卮乇 乇亘賷毓丕
"賴賷 賵丕丨丿丞 賲賳 "丕賱丨賵乇賷丕鬲 丕賱賲爻毓賵乇丕鬲
賰賲丕 賷爻賲賷賴賳 丕賱亘胤賱 丕賱賴賲丕賲
賵賴賵 乇噩賱 乇丕卅毓 賷賯丿乇 丕賱胤賮賱丕鬲 丕賱亘乇賷卅丕鬲 賰孬賷乇丞
賵賱丕 賷卮亘毓 賲賳 乇睾亘鬲賴 丕賱賳賴賲丞 賮賷賴賳
賵匕賱賰 賯丿乇 賲丕 賴賵 丨賳賵賳 賵賳亘賷賱
O:)
兀丨賷丕賳丕 賷噩乇亘 丕賱賳爻丕亍 丕賱賳丕囟噩丕鬲-賲丕 賴賷 丨丕噩丞 亘亘賱丕卮 賰丿賴
賵匕賱賰 賱爻丿 丕賱丨丕噩丞 丨賷賳 鬲賮賷囟 丕賱卮賴賵丞 毓賳 丕賱丨丿-丕賲賾丕賱 賴賷毓賲賱 丕賷賴 賷毓賳賷
:'(
賵胤賵丕賱 兀丨丿丕孬 丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 丕賱賲賷賲賵賳丞
賷丨丿孬賰 丕賱亘胤賱 丕賱(丨賵賳賷賳 亘丕賱賯賵賷) 毓賳 乇睾亘丕鬲賴 丕賱卮乇賷賮丞 鬲賱賰
毓賳 賰賷賮 亘丿兀鬲 賲毓賴 賵賰賷賮 丨丕乇亘賴丕 (賷丕毓賷賷賷賷賳賷 賷丕禺賵賷賷丕) 丨鬲賶 睾賱亘鬲賴
孬賲 賷爻鬲賲乇 睾丕賱亘丕 賮賷 賵氐賮 卮亘賯賴 丕賱匕賷 賱丕 賷賳鬲賴賷 賱噩爻丿 丕賱賮鬲丕丞 丕賱賲爻賰賷賳
兀賲丕 毓賳 丕賱兀丨丿丕孬 丕賱賯賱賷賱丞 丕賱賲鬲亘賯賷丞
賵丕賱鬲賷 馗賳 丕賱賰丕鬲亘 兀賳賴 亘賴丕 賷毓賲賯 乇賵丕賷鬲賴 賵賷賰爻亘賴丕 賯賷賲丞 兀丿亘賷丞
賮賴賷 丨賯丕 鬲亘賴乇賰
-兀賳丕 賰賴丿賶 丕賳亘賴乇鬲
賮丕賱亘胤賱 賷賵丕噩賴 -丨亘賷亘 賯賱亘 兀賲賴 丨賰賲丕 亘丕賱廿毓丿丕賲
賵賱賵賱賷鬲丕 鬲鬲夭賵噩 賲賳 丌禺乇 亘毓丿賲丕 賰亘乇鬲
賵丕賱丨賯賷賯丞 賲賲賰賳 鬲賰賲賱 丕賱亘丕賯賷 賲賳 兀賷 賲爻賱爻賱 毓乇亘賷 賷毓噩亘賰
兀賲丕 毓賳 胤乇賷賯丞 丕賱爻乇丿
賮卮毓乇鬲 丿賵賲丕 賮賷 丕賱爻胤賵乇 丕賱鬲賷 賰丕賳 賷丨丕賵賱 兀賳 賷鬲賮賱爻賮 賮賷賴丕
亘丨匕賱賯丞 賵 鬲賰賱賮 賵爻禺賮 睾賷乇 賲亘乇乇 毓賱賶 丕賱廿胤賱丕賯
;;;;;;;;;;
亘丕禺鬲氐丕乇 賱賲 兀丨亘賴丕
賱賲 鬲噩匕亘賳賷
兀賳丿賲 毓賱賶 丕賱賵賯鬲 丕賱匕賷 囟賷毓鬲賴 賲賳鬲馗乇丞 兀賳 鬲亘丿兀 丕賱賯氐丞 亘丕賱鬲丨爻賳
賳氐賷丨丞#
賲鬲賯乇丕赖丕卮
丕賱丿賳賷丕 賮賷賴丕 賰鬲亘 毓馗賷賲丞 賵毓亘賯乇賷丞 賰鬲賷乇
賱賲丕 賳禺賱氐賴賲 丕賱兀賵賱
January 16, 2009
LUST AND LEPIDOPTERY
(Legend of a Licentious Logophile)
1. Libidinous linguist lusts after landlady's lass.
2. Lecherous lodger weds lovelorn landlady.
3. Landlady loses life.
4. Lascivious lewd looks after little Lolita.
5. Lubricious Lolita loves licking lollipops lambitively.
6. Licentious lecturer loves Lolita louchely.
7. Lechery lands lusty lamister in legal limbo.
8. Lachrymose libertine languishes in lockup.
(Legend of a Licentious Logophile)
1. Libidinous linguist lusts after landlady's lass.
2. Lecherous lodger weds lovelorn landlady.
3. Landlady loses life.
4. Lascivious lewd looks after little Lolita.
5. Lubricious Lolita loves licking lollipops lambitively.
6. Licentious lecturer loves Lolita louchely.
7. Lechery lands lusty lamister in legal limbo.
8. Lachrymose libertine languishes in lockup.
March 15, 2017
*Ranked as one of the Top 100 Fiction of the 20th Century*
I鈥檓 not quite sure how to put this in words. Hell, I鈥檓 not sure what I intend to say, so this is going to be ugly. If you want to sit in on this exercise be my guest, you鈥檝e probably got more important things to do, such as organizing your cassette tapes and LPs before shoving them in a box destined for the attic, believe me, your time will be better spent, especially when you take that stroll down memory lane and consider how killer it would be to rock out to Depeche Mode and A-Ha all afternoon (it鈥檚 possible you鈥檙e one of those badasses with some Dead Kennedys on cassette, more power to you, feel free to tear off your shirt and bathe with a 40oz of Big Bear). You might want to clean your bong while you鈥檙e at it; you never know how immersed you鈥檒l get in the hazy recollections of your exploits during the New Wave or burgeoning Hardcore era and might prefer a soundtrack to complement your deranged thoughts.
As for Lolita, maybe this tangential bullshit will help get my point across鈥� I鈥檝e recently taken a keen interest in watching 鈥淒eadliest Catch鈥�, but as soon as the show concludes I wonder 鈥淲hat have I walked away with, after investing 50 minutes and 4 rum & cokes to the accompaniment of these awe-inspiring images of man battling the elements to strike bepincered gold?鈥� Not much, appears to be the answer; it鈥檚 just a bunch of crabs, crabs, crabs, and master-baiting, the simple ingredients of all my friendships and relationships. Sure, it鈥檚 awesome to watch sea-faring maniacs risk life and limb to haul in the nasty creatures that pay their bills, but there鈥檚 nothing else to it, just dudes getting stoked over a huge haul of crabs, or lamenting some element of the life they鈥檝e chosen. Then you get to thinking how these dudes鈥� wives manage without them at sea for 20+ days at a time; obviously they are in the crab-catching business as well. And the real kick in the ass is that I don鈥檛 even eat crab, hell, I鈥檝e never even tried a dish that incorporates any crab. When I consider the ridiculousness of it all, it seems pretty disheartening. This sort of pointless introspection is probably how Des Esseintes got his start, so I鈥檒l leave it at that before it becomes habit-forming.
I can鈥檛 say that my opinion of Lolita is much different. It鈥檚 just Humbert Humbert endlessly rhapsodizing about nymphettes, most substantially, his nymphette, Lolita. And that鈥檚 it; I鈥檝e probably never read anything so one-dimensional in my life. I鈥檓 sure the upper echelons of literary critics found myriad reasons beyond my primitive sensibilities for including this in the Top 100 works of 20th century fiction, I just don鈥檛 happen to see it. One of these qualifiers might be this absurd statement on the back cover, 鈥楲olita is also the story of a hypercivilized European colliding with the cheerful barbarism of postwar America鈥�. Now, when we consider the social climate at the time of publication, with book-banning and obscenity trials recently being all the rage, and you know that in order to somehow foist upon the public a tale concerning a grown man鈥檚 obsession and fornication with a 12 year old girl the defenders of this thinly-veiled smut have to somehow show that there is something above and beyond mere prurient interest hidden between the covers of the book, so statements like the one above are thrown out there to mind-f#ck all. I don鈥檛 even know what the hell that statement on the cover is supposed to mean, but 鈥榩ostwar America鈥� were powerful buzzwords at the time, and truly, what else could you possibly use as a thematic defense for this book, seeing as the book has nothing to offer except the ridiculous tale of a weathered old pervert ogling young girls on the hopscotch courts, finding one that epitomizes his unacceptable desires, and eventually having his way with her before attempting to completely control her young body and mind during a trek that can only be considered kidnapping on the grandest scale. Let鈥檚 not forget that when his precious nymphette is purloined by an unknown fiend, he goes off to ambush the guy and shoot his ass; this is not the behavior of the 鈥榟ypercivilized鈥�; my own rather sloppy upbringing declares that anyone with a shred of civility offers his adversary a duel rather than attack him unawares, Humbert is a lowly coward of the worst disposition. The 鈥榟ypercivilized鈥� don鈥檛 go around bagging 85 pound kids sporting skinned knees from spills at the roller-rink, real men fish for those awesome and voluptuous Amazonians, the women who proudly stand 5鈥�10鈥� or more and have generous curves that modern fabrics fruitlessly struggle to contain from spilling forth in all their fully-developed glory. Our man Humbert has no such redeeming qualities; he鈥檚 a scoundrel of the lowest and basest rank. Let鈥檚 not forget that he weeps, and when I conjure a mental image of the elusive 鈥榟ypercivilized European鈥�, weeping like a bitch and throwing a tantrum doesn鈥檛 enter the picture.
While the frauds who compiled the Top 100 Fiction list and I might diverge in our estimations of Lolita, I will agree with our man John Updike when he states 鈥淣abokov writes prose the only way it should be written, that is, ecstatically.鈥� There is no denying that the book is phenomenally written, but the repetition of nymphette-this and nymphette-that simply overwhelmed me; I was left with an indelible image of Nabokov sitting there alternately referencing his thesaurus and a collection of kiddie porn for inspiration while hammering this out. I鈥檇 have enjoyed this book a thousand times more had it been about turtles, or walnuts, or my mother's first communion, hell, anything else. Nymphettes suck: there is a reason I don鈥檛 go trolling for trim at the nearest bus station, who the hell wants to put up with the behavior of a pubescent trollop?
There isn鈥檛 a whole hell of a lot that I know, but I do know this; if my choices were either read Lolita again or spend a day crabbing in the arctic, I鈥檇 better be prepared to get some frostbite on my beanbag.
I鈥檓 not quite sure how to put this in words. Hell, I鈥檓 not sure what I intend to say, so this is going to be ugly. If you want to sit in on this exercise be my guest, you鈥檝e probably got more important things to do, such as organizing your cassette tapes and LPs before shoving them in a box destined for the attic, believe me, your time will be better spent, especially when you take that stroll down memory lane and consider how killer it would be to rock out to Depeche Mode and A-Ha all afternoon (it鈥檚 possible you鈥檙e one of those badasses with some Dead Kennedys on cassette, more power to you, feel free to tear off your shirt and bathe with a 40oz of Big Bear). You might want to clean your bong while you鈥檙e at it; you never know how immersed you鈥檒l get in the hazy recollections of your exploits during the New Wave or burgeoning Hardcore era and might prefer a soundtrack to complement your deranged thoughts.
As for Lolita, maybe this tangential bullshit will help get my point across鈥� I鈥檝e recently taken a keen interest in watching 鈥淒eadliest Catch鈥�, but as soon as the show concludes I wonder 鈥淲hat have I walked away with, after investing 50 minutes and 4 rum & cokes to the accompaniment of these awe-inspiring images of man battling the elements to strike bepincered gold?鈥� Not much, appears to be the answer; it鈥檚 just a bunch of crabs, crabs, crabs, and master-baiting, the simple ingredients of all my friendships and relationships. Sure, it鈥檚 awesome to watch sea-faring maniacs risk life and limb to haul in the nasty creatures that pay their bills, but there鈥檚 nothing else to it, just dudes getting stoked over a huge haul of crabs, or lamenting some element of the life they鈥檝e chosen. Then you get to thinking how these dudes鈥� wives manage without them at sea for 20+ days at a time; obviously they are in the crab-catching business as well. And the real kick in the ass is that I don鈥檛 even eat crab, hell, I鈥檝e never even tried a dish that incorporates any crab. When I consider the ridiculousness of it all, it seems pretty disheartening. This sort of pointless introspection is probably how Des Esseintes got his start, so I鈥檒l leave it at that before it becomes habit-forming.
I can鈥檛 say that my opinion of Lolita is much different. It鈥檚 just Humbert Humbert endlessly rhapsodizing about nymphettes, most substantially, his nymphette, Lolita. And that鈥檚 it; I鈥檝e probably never read anything so one-dimensional in my life. I鈥檓 sure the upper echelons of literary critics found myriad reasons beyond my primitive sensibilities for including this in the Top 100 works of 20th century fiction, I just don鈥檛 happen to see it. One of these qualifiers might be this absurd statement on the back cover, 鈥楲olita is also the story of a hypercivilized European colliding with the cheerful barbarism of postwar America鈥�. Now, when we consider the social climate at the time of publication, with book-banning and obscenity trials recently being all the rage, and you know that in order to somehow foist upon the public a tale concerning a grown man鈥檚 obsession and fornication with a 12 year old girl the defenders of this thinly-veiled smut have to somehow show that there is something above and beyond mere prurient interest hidden between the covers of the book, so statements like the one above are thrown out there to mind-f#ck all. I don鈥檛 even know what the hell that statement on the cover is supposed to mean, but 鈥榩ostwar America鈥� were powerful buzzwords at the time, and truly, what else could you possibly use as a thematic defense for this book, seeing as the book has nothing to offer except the ridiculous tale of a weathered old pervert ogling young girls on the hopscotch courts, finding one that epitomizes his unacceptable desires, and eventually having his way with her before attempting to completely control her young body and mind during a trek that can only be considered kidnapping on the grandest scale. Let鈥檚 not forget that when his precious nymphette is purloined by an unknown fiend, he goes off to ambush the guy and shoot his ass; this is not the behavior of the 鈥榟ypercivilized鈥�; my own rather sloppy upbringing declares that anyone with a shred of civility offers his adversary a duel rather than attack him unawares, Humbert is a lowly coward of the worst disposition. The 鈥榟ypercivilized鈥� don鈥檛 go around bagging 85 pound kids sporting skinned knees from spills at the roller-rink, real men fish for those awesome and voluptuous Amazonians, the women who proudly stand 5鈥�10鈥� or more and have generous curves that modern fabrics fruitlessly struggle to contain from spilling forth in all their fully-developed glory. Our man Humbert has no such redeeming qualities; he鈥檚 a scoundrel of the lowest and basest rank. Let鈥檚 not forget that he weeps, and when I conjure a mental image of the elusive 鈥榟ypercivilized European鈥�, weeping like a bitch and throwing a tantrum doesn鈥檛 enter the picture.
While the frauds who compiled the Top 100 Fiction list and I might diverge in our estimations of Lolita, I will agree with our man John Updike when he states 鈥淣abokov writes prose the only way it should be written, that is, ecstatically.鈥� There is no denying that the book is phenomenally written, but the repetition of nymphette-this and nymphette-that simply overwhelmed me; I was left with an indelible image of Nabokov sitting there alternately referencing his thesaurus and a collection of kiddie porn for inspiration while hammering this out. I鈥檇 have enjoyed this book a thousand times more had it been about turtles, or walnuts, or my mother's first communion, hell, anything else. Nymphettes suck: there is a reason I don鈥檛 go trolling for trim at the nearest bus station, who the hell wants to put up with the behavior of a pubescent trollop?
There isn鈥檛 a whole hell of a lot that I know, but I do know this; if my choices were either read Lolita again or spend a day crabbing in the arctic, I鈥檇 better be prepared to get some frostbite on my beanbag.
August 20, 2019
You see, she had absolutely nowhere else to go.
This is a book I kind of hated and kind of loved, and when I first started writing this review, I did not know how to evaluate it. So I went through the reviews, and I realized what I wanted to say: it honestly amazes me that anyone is able to read this as a romance.
It's quite clear that this is not meant to be a romance. even ignoring that it's quite literally about a twelve year old and a thirty-seven year old, it is made SO clear that he knows he's taking advantage of her situation and simply doesn't care?
And it is for this reason I enjoyed Lolita. I think the reason I enjoyed - or maybe appreciated - this so much was I never thought the narrative was romanticizing what was going on; it was more like an acknowledgement, a book of horror meant to draw its eye.
It鈥檚 a masterful use of unreliable narrator, and here - unlike in a lot of other books that recieve praise for unreliable narrator - Nabokov makes his use of this device textual. Lola鈥檚 behavior is, at its peak, the behavior of a rebellious twelve-year-old, not the behavior of the seductive, uncaring Lolita Humbert wants us to believe her to be.
He has this strange pride in himself and this strange analysis of his idea, and of his pathologic ability to justify his illness; he鈥檚 replaying this episode of his childhood, in which he had consexual sex with a girl his age, as if it justifies his later preying upon Lola. He claims that she seduced him when she has not, when her behavior, though inappropriate, is essentially the behavior of an unaware twelve-year-old wanting someone in the world. And in places, his deeper mind peaks through: in the quote at the top of this page, elsewhere, when he criticizes Caroline for her hatred for her daughter, her jealousy of her daughter, her resentment. When he acknowledges Lola is only going along with his actions, to prove how grown-up she is, to prove that she wasn't lying about her sexual experience.
Perhaps the only thing I sort of didn't was the ending, which I found kind of... ridiculous. I would love to read a retelling of this in which in the end, Lola kills Humbert.
TW: pedophilia and sexual assault.
dangerous ideas: book 4
| | | |
July 28, 2021
Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov
Lolita is a 1955 novel written by Russian American novelist Vladimir Nabokov.
The novel is notable for its controversial subject: the protagonist and unreliable narrator, a middle-aged literature professor under the pseudonym Humbert Humbert is obsessed with a 12-year-old girl, Dolores Haze, with whom he becomes sexually involved after he becomes her stepfather.
Lolita is his private nickname for Dolores.
The novel was originally written in English and first published in Paris in 1955 by Olympia Press.
Later it was translated into Russian by Nabokov himself and published in New York City in 1967 by Phaedra Publishers.
鬲丕乇蹖禺 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 禺賵丕賳卮: 爻丕賱 1994賲蹖賱丕丿蹖
丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 亘乇丕蹖 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 亘丕乇 丿乇 爻丕賱 1955賲蹖賱丕丿蹖貙 丿乇 芦倬丕乇蹖爻禄 鬲賵爻胤 芦丕賱賲倬蹖丕倬乇爻禄 亘賴 趩丕倬 乇爻蹖丿貨 芦丕爻鬲賳賱蹖 讴賵亘乇蹖讴貙 丿乇 爻丕賱 1962賲蹖賱丕丿蹖禄貙 賵 芦丌丿乇蹖丕賳 賱蹖賳 丿乇 爻丕賱 1992賲蹖賱丕丿蹖禄貙 丿賵 賮蹖賱賲貙 亘丕 丕賯鬲亘丕爻 丕夭 賴賲蹖賳 乇賲丕賳 爻丕禺鬲賳丿貨 芦賱賵賱蹖鬲丕禄 乇賲丕賳蹖 丕爻鬲貙 丿乇 賲賵乇丿 毓卮賯 蹖讴 倬乇賵賮爻賵乇 賲蹖丕賳鈥屫池з勜� 亘賴 蹖讴 丿禺鬲乇亘趩賴 蹖 丿賵丕夭丿賴 爻蹖夭丿賴 爻丕賱賴 亘賴 賳丕賲 芦賱賵賱蹖鬲丕禄貨 倬乇賵賮爻賵乇 丕夭 賯囟丕 賳丕倬丿乇蹖 芦賱賵賱蹖鬲丕禄 賳蹖夭 賴爻鬲貨 倬乇賵賮爻賵乇 丿乇 倬蹖 賮丕卮 卮丿賳 毓卮賯 賳丕賲卮乇賵毓卮 亘賴 丿禺鬲乇 賴賲爻乇 禺賵蹖卮貙 賵 賲乇诏 夭賳卮貙 爻賮乇蹖 賳丕賲卮禺氐 乇丕 丿乇 讴賳丕乇 芦賱賵賱蹖鬲丕禄 丌睾丕夭 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁嗀� 睾丕賮賱 丕夭 丌賳讴賴貙 丿禺鬲乇讴 鬲賵爻胤 蹖讴 賮乇丿 孬乇賵鬲賲賳丿 賲賳丨乇賮貙 丕睾賮丕賱 賵 賳丕诏丕賴 倬乇賵賮爻賵乇 乇丕 鬲乇讴 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀�
讴鬲丕亘 丿乇 芦倬丕乇蹖爻禄貙 賲賵賴賳 鬲卮禺蹖氐 丿丕丿賴 卮丿貙 賵 賮乇賵卮 丌賳 賯丿睾賳 卮丿貨 讴賲蹖 亘毓丿 丿乇 芦丕賳诏賱蹖爻禄貙 爻倬爻 丿乇 芦丌乇跇丕賳鬲蹖賳禄貙 芦賳蹖賵夭蹖賱賳丿禄 賵 芦丌賮乇蹖賯丕蹖 噩賳賵亘蹖禄 賳蹖夭貙 丕噩丕夭賴 賮乇賵卮 倬蹖丿丕 賳讴乇丿貨 亘賴 丿禺鬲乇丕賳 噩賵丕賳蹖 讴賴 丕夭 爻賳蹖賳 倬丕蹖蹖賳貙 丿乇诏蹖乇 賲爻丕卅賱 噩賳爻蹖 鈥屫促堎嗀� 亘賴 丕氐胤賱丕丨 芦賱賵賱蹖鬲丕禄 賲蹖鈥屭堐屬嗀� 讴鬲丕亘 芦賳丕亘丕讴賵賮禄 乇丕貙 丿乇 爻丕賱 2014賲蹖賱丕丿蹖貙 禺丕賳賲 芦丕讴乇賲 倬丿乇丕賲鈥� 賳蹖丕禄 賳蹖夭貙 亘賴 夭亘丕賳 賮丕乇爻蹖 亘乇诏乇丿丕賳丿賴貙 賵 賳卮乇 芦夭乇蹖丕亘禄 丌賳 乇丕 丿乇 芦丕賮睾丕賳爻鬲丕賳禄貙 趩丕倬 賵 賲賳鬲卮乇 讴乇丿賴 丕爻鬲
鬲丕乇蹖禺 亘賴賳诏丕賲 乇爻丕賳蹖 22/05/1399賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 05/05/1400賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 丕. 卮乇亘蹖丕賳蹖
Lolita is a 1955 novel written by Russian American novelist Vladimir Nabokov.
The novel is notable for its controversial subject: the protagonist and unreliable narrator, a middle-aged literature professor under the pseudonym Humbert Humbert is obsessed with a 12-year-old girl, Dolores Haze, with whom he becomes sexually involved after he becomes her stepfather.
Lolita is his private nickname for Dolores.
The novel was originally written in English and first published in Paris in 1955 by Olympia Press.
Later it was translated into Russian by Nabokov himself and published in New York City in 1967 by Phaedra Publishers.
鬲丕乇蹖禺 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 禺賵丕賳卮: 爻丕賱 1994賲蹖賱丕丿蹖
丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 亘乇丕蹖 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 亘丕乇 丿乇 爻丕賱 1955賲蹖賱丕丿蹖貙 丿乇 芦倬丕乇蹖爻禄 鬲賵爻胤 芦丕賱賲倬蹖丕倬乇爻禄 亘賴 趩丕倬 乇爻蹖丿貨 芦丕爻鬲賳賱蹖 讴賵亘乇蹖讴貙 丿乇 爻丕賱 1962賲蹖賱丕丿蹖禄貙 賵 芦丌丿乇蹖丕賳 賱蹖賳 丿乇 爻丕賱 1992賲蹖賱丕丿蹖禄貙 丿賵 賮蹖賱賲貙 亘丕 丕賯鬲亘丕爻 丕夭 賴賲蹖賳 乇賲丕賳 爻丕禺鬲賳丿貨 芦賱賵賱蹖鬲丕禄 乇賲丕賳蹖 丕爻鬲貙 丿乇 賲賵乇丿 毓卮賯 蹖讴 倬乇賵賮爻賵乇 賲蹖丕賳鈥屫池з勜� 亘賴 蹖讴 丿禺鬲乇亘趩賴 蹖 丿賵丕夭丿賴 爻蹖夭丿賴 爻丕賱賴 亘賴 賳丕賲 芦賱賵賱蹖鬲丕禄貨 倬乇賵賮爻賵乇 丕夭 賯囟丕 賳丕倬丿乇蹖 芦賱賵賱蹖鬲丕禄 賳蹖夭 賴爻鬲貨 倬乇賵賮爻賵乇 丿乇 倬蹖 賮丕卮 卮丿賳 毓卮賯 賳丕賲卮乇賵毓卮 亘賴 丿禺鬲乇 賴賲爻乇 禺賵蹖卮貙 賵 賲乇诏 夭賳卮貙 爻賮乇蹖 賳丕賲卮禺氐 乇丕 丿乇 讴賳丕乇 芦賱賵賱蹖鬲丕禄 丌睾丕夭 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁嗀� 睾丕賮賱 丕夭 丌賳讴賴貙 丿禺鬲乇讴 鬲賵爻胤 蹖讴 賮乇丿 孬乇賵鬲賲賳丿 賲賳丨乇賮貙 丕睾賮丕賱 賵 賳丕诏丕賴 倬乇賵賮爻賵乇 乇丕 鬲乇讴 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀�
讴鬲丕亘 丿乇 芦倬丕乇蹖爻禄貙 賲賵賴賳 鬲卮禺蹖氐 丿丕丿賴 卮丿貙 賵 賮乇賵卮 丌賳 賯丿睾賳 卮丿貨 讴賲蹖 亘毓丿 丿乇 芦丕賳诏賱蹖爻禄貙 爻倬爻 丿乇 芦丌乇跇丕賳鬲蹖賳禄貙 芦賳蹖賵夭蹖賱賳丿禄 賵 芦丌賮乇蹖賯丕蹖 噩賳賵亘蹖禄 賳蹖夭貙 丕噩丕夭賴 賮乇賵卮 倬蹖丿丕 賳讴乇丿貨 亘賴 丿禺鬲乇丕賳 噩賵丕賳蹖 讴賴 丕夭 爻賳蹖賳 倬丕蹖蹖賳貙 丿乇诏蹖乇 賲爻丕卅賱 噩賳爻蹖 鈥屫促堎嗀� 亘賴 丕氐胤賱丕丨 芦賱賵賱蹖鬲丕禄 賲蹖鈥屭堐屬嗀� 讴鬲丕亘 芦賳丕亘丕讴賵賮禄 乇丕貙 丿乇 爻丕賱 2014賲蹖賱丕丿蹖貙 禺丕賳賲 芦丕讴乇賲 倬丿乇丕賲鈥� 賳蹖丕禄 賳蹖夭貙 亘賴 夭亘丕賳 賮丕乇爻蹖 亘乇诏乇丿丕賳丿賴貙 賵 賳卮乇 芦夭乇蹖丕亘禄 丌賳 乇丕 丿乇 芦丕賮睾丕賳爻鬲丕賳禄貙 趩丕倬 賵 賲賳鬲卮乇 讴乇丿賴 丕爻鬲
鬲丕乇蹖禺 亘賴賳诏丕賲 乇爻丕賳蹖 22/05/1399賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 05/05/1400賴噩乇蹖 禺賵乇卮蹖丿蹖貨 丕. 卮乇亘蹖丕賳蹖
February 5, 2020
ENGLISH () / ITALIANO
After dusty years in my bookshelf, finally I decided to read "Lolita". I am blown away by this 's work, ironic and dramatic at the same time. I am not shocked, nor I have found those disastrous tones of an announced tragedy that I was expecting from this book. Indeed Nabokov tells us that this work:
"... brings along no moral. For me a work of fiction exists only if it gives me what I frankly shall call aesthetic pleasure."The main character, Humbert, describes in a precise and often sarcastic way his syndrome, i.e. the uncontrollable attraction towards those he defines "nymphets" based on a rigorous combination of age, attitude and style of dress, a lethal mix that can catapult him into an abyss of irrationality. Some "normal" dalliances had in adolescence or adulthood are worthless. Something is wrong in our antihero, which plans convenience marriages or improbable assassinations just to satisfy his ecstatic passion. Playing the dual role of fugitive and pursuer in a long road trip, the wretched fate of a grotesque man takes place. A man that until the end is unable to control his insane and delirious love.
But still love.
Vote: 8
Dopo anni di polverosa presenza nel mio scaffale, decido con moderato entusiasmo di leggere questo libro. Ironico e drammatico al contempo, quest'opera di mi ha spiazzato. Non mi sono scandalizzato, n茅 ho ritrovato quei toni funesti da tragedia annunciata che il titolo "Lolita" sempre suscitava in me. D'altronde ci dice Nabokov che la sua opera:
"... non si porta dietro nessuna morale. Per me un'opera di narrativa esiste solo se mi procura quella che chiamer貌 francamente volutt脿 estetica".Il protagonista, Humbert, descrive in maniera precisa e spesso sarcastica la sua sindrome, l'attrazione irrefrenabile verso coloro che definisce "ninfette" sulla base di una rigorosa combinazione di et脿, atteggiamento e modo di vestire, un mix letale in grado di scaraventarlo in un abisso di irrazionalit脿. A nulla valgono esperienze relazionali "normali" avute in adolescenza o in et脿 adulta. Qualcosa non quadra nel bell'Humbert, che progetta matrimoni di convenienza o improbabili assassinii pur di soddisfare la sua estatica passione. Rivestendo il duplice ruolo di fuggiasco ed inseguitore in un lungo viaggio on the road, si compie il gramo destino di un uomo grottesco, incapace fino all'ultimo di dominare il suo amore insano e delirante.
Ma pur sempre amore.
Voto: 8
May 29, 2022
Wishful鈥� Sinful鈥�
鈥淗e鈥檇 wag his horn rimmed head, smile secretively, wink, and proclaim his astonishment: 鈥楽till on Lolita?鈥� Then he鈥檇 issue a past master鈥檚 chuckle by way of letting me know that he and I were joined in some scatological conspiracy. It never occurred to him that I might be reading the book for the fourth or fifth time, and as the days passed I know he came to regard me as either depraved or the most moronic reader in Christendom. 鈥楽till on Lolita!鈥� became a recurring din, like a daily summons to waken.鈥� 鈥�
Pharisees don鈥檛 read books 鈥� they just form opinions about them鈥� And their opinion is their castle.
When one is tortured with desire one has no place to hide鈥� And Vladimir Nabokov鈥檚 profound immersion into an analysis of such desire that sweeps all the moral bans on its way was unprecedented. And he managed to raise his revolutionary novel high above the pornography 鈥� to the level of true immortal art.
To some love is an obsession for life and to some it is nothing but a trinket for a day.
鈥淗e鈥檇 wag his horn rimmed head, smile secretively, wink, and proclaim his astonishment: 鈥楽till on Lolita?鈥� Then he鈥檇 issue a past master鈥檚 chuckle by way of letting me know that he and I were joined in some scatological conspiracy. It never occurred to him that I might be reading the book for the fourth or fifth time, and as the days passed I know he came to regard me as either depraved or the most moronic reader in Christendom. 鈥楽till on Lolita!鈥� became a recurring din, like a daily summons to waken.鈥� 鈥�
Pharisees don鈥檛 read books 鈥� they just form opinions about them鈥� And their opinion is their castle.
The passion I had developed for that nymphet, for the first nymphet in my life that could be reached at last by my awkward, aching, timid claws, would have certainly landed me again in a sanatorium, had not the devil realized that I was to be granted some relief if he wanted to have me as a plaything for some time longer.
When one is tortured with desire one has no place to hide鈥� And Vladimir Nabokov鈥檚 profound immersion into an analysis of such desire that sweeps all the moral bans on its way was unprecedented. And he managed to raise his revolutionary novel high above the pornography 鈥� to the level of true immortal art.
We loved each other with a premature love, marked by a fierceness that so often destroys adult lives.
To some love is an obsession for life and to some it is nothing but a trinket for a day.
October 17, 2024
I insist the world know how much I loved my Lolita, this Lolita, pale and polluted, and big with another鈥檚 child, but still gray-eyed, still sooty-lashed, still auburn and almond, still Carmencita, still mine.
From prison, the confessions of Humbert Humbert, a 40- year old man with a weakness for 'nymphets', budding sirens 'between nine and fourteen', reach us. Looking for shelter in a sleepy American town, he discovers 12-year-old Dolores Haze - Lolita. To be able to stay near her, Humbert marries mother Haze. With sardonic pleasure, Nabokov leads Humbert and Lolita to the tragic denouement, taking them from one grubby motel to another in a compulsively hooking road movie. Lolita speaks of loss, exile and unfulfilled desire. It is the story of an impossible, ill-fated love: as she matures, the butterfly Lolita inevitably pupates into a caterpillar. Because of Nabokov's virtuoso prose, Lolita is inventive, brilliant, playful literature- nevertheless in my opinion not the ideal book as a first acquaintance with Nabokov, disconcerting it is because of the subject.
Nabokov himself was acutely aware of the difficulties in presenting his Lolita visually to the world:
After thinking it over, I would rather not involve butterflies. Do you think it could be possible to find today in New York an artist who would not be influenced in his work by the general cartoonesque and primitivist style jacket illustration? Who would be capable of creating a romantic, delicately drawn, non-Freudian and non-juvenile, picture for LOLITA (a dissolving remoteness, a soft American landscape, a nostalgic highway鈥攖hat sort of thing)? There is one subject which I am emphatically opposed to: any kind of representation of a little girl.
In lieu of even trying to capture impressions by an illustration, here is a fascinating dedicated to 60 covers of the novel as published through the years in various countries. More covers can be found on .
I am partial to sobriety in the matter. Which cover would you choose?
***
Ik eis dat de wereld weet hoeveel ik hield van mijn Lolita, d茅ze Lolita, bleek en bezoedeld, en zwanger van andermans kind, maar nog altijd grijsogig, nog altijd roetig gewimperd, nog altijd kastanje en amandel, nog altijd Carmencita, nog altijd van mij.
In 1958 verscheen de eerste Amerikaanse versie van dit schandaalboek in de Verenigde staten.
Vanuit de gevangenis bereiken ons de bekentenissen van Humbert Humbert, een 40-jarige Europeaan met een zwak voor 鈥榥imfijnen鈥�, ontluikende sirenen 鈥榯ussen negen en veertien鈥�. Op zoek naar onderdak in een slaperig Amerikaans stadje ontdekt hij de 12-jarige Dolores Haze 鈥� Lolita. Om in haar buurt te kunnen blijven, trouwt Humbert met moeder Haze. In een beklemmende roadmovie voert Nabokov zijn personages via Amerikaanse motels naar de tragische ontknoping. Uit Lolita spreekt verlies, ballingschap en onvervuld verlangen. Het is het verhaal van een onmogelijke, noodlottige liefde: met het volwassen worden verpopt de vlinder Lolita zich onvermijdelijk tot rups. Dankzij Nabokovs virtuoze taal is Lolita een uniek boek dat de lezer ondanks de problematische thematiek zal verslinden: het is inventieve, briljante, speelse literatuur van de bovenste plank. Ook de sardonische kijk op het kitscherige Amerika van de jaren 鈥�50 zal menig lezer bekoren.
From prison, the confessions of Humbert Humbert, a 40- year old man with a weakness for 'nymphets', budding sirens 'between nine and fourteen', reach us. Looking for shelter in a sleepy American town, he discovers 12-year-old Dolores Haze - Lolita. To be able to stay near her, Humbert marries mother Haze. With sardonic pleasure, Nabokov leads Humbert and Lolita to the tragic denouement, taking them from one grubby motel to another in a compulsively hooking road movie. Lolita speaks of loss, exile and unfulfilled desire. It is the story of an impossible, ill-fated love: as she matures, the butterfly Lolita inevitably pupates into a caterpillar. Because of Nabokov's virtuoso prose, Lolita is inventive, brilliant, playful literature- nevertheless in my opinion not the ideal book as a first acquaintance with Nabokov, disconcerting it is because of the subject.
Nabokov himself was acutely aware of the difficulties in presenting his Lolita visually to the world:
After thinking it over, I would rather not involve butterflies. Do you think it could be possible to find today in New York an artist who would not be influenced in his work by the general cartoonesque and primitivist style jacket illustration? Who would be capable of creating a romantic, delicately drawn, non-Freudian and non-juvenile, picture for LOLITA (a dissolving remoteness, a soft American landscape, a nostalgic highway鈥攖hat sort of thing)? There is one subject which I am emphatically opposed to: any kind of representation of a little girl.
In lieu of even trying to capture impressions by an illustration, here is a fascinating dedicated to 60 covers of the novel as published through the years in various countries. More covers can be found on .
I am partial to sobriety in the matter. Which cover would you choose?
***
Ik eis dat de wereld weet hoeveel ik hield van mijn Lolita, d茅ze Lolita, bleek en bezoedeld, en zwanger van andermans kind, maar nog altijd grijsogig, nog altijd roetig gewimperd, nog altijd kastanje en amandel, nog altijd Carmencita, nog altijd van mij.
In 1958 verscheen de eerste Amerikaanse versie van dit schandaalboek in de Verenigde staten.
Vanuit de gevangenis bereiken ons de bekentenissen van Humbert Humbert, een 40-jarige Europeaan met een zwak voor 鈥榥imfijnen鈥�, ontluikende sirenen 鈥榯ussen negen en veertien鈥�. Op zoek naar onderdak in een slaperig Amerikaans stadje ontdekt hij de 12-jarige Dolores Haze 鈥� Lolita. Om in haar buurt te kunnen blijven, trouwt Humbert met moeder Haze. In een beklemmende roadmovie voert Nabokov zijn personages via Amerikaanse motels naar de tragische ontknoping. Uit Lolita spreekt verlies, ballingschap en onvervuld verlangen. Het is het verhaal van een onmogelijke, noodlottige liefde: met het volwassen worden verpopt de vlinder Lolita zich onvermijdelijk tot rups. Dankzij Nabokovs virtuoze taal is Lolita een uniek boek dat de lezer ondanks de problematische thematiek zal verslinden: het is inventieve, briljante, speelse literatuur van de bovenste plank. Ook de sardonische kijk op het kitscherige Amerika van de jaren 鈥�50 zal menig lezer bekoren.
December 4, 2013
Nabokov often writes his novels in the perspective of detestable villains. You never like them, you're never supposed to like them, and Nabokov doesn't like them either. He slaps them around and humiliates them. And in the end, they pay the price for their sins. Readers never seem to realize this. They become immersed in the psychology of the book and feel defiled by it all. Instead, they should sit back and watch the bastards suffer. The stories are written in their own view so that makes the punishment all the more sweet. The reader knows exactly what the scheisemeister is feeling - pain, pain, pain. That's one of the reasons I like Nabokov so much. The bad guys really get it. It's not just getting killed or caught at the end, you really feel their anguish. Mmm... schadenfreude."
I sort of believe the reason why most of the characters are 2 dimensional is precisely because of who is potraying them, a depraved person. A depraved person who commits terrible, unforgivable crimes against people. How could he commit those crimes if he saw them as the human beings that they are? It's easier for a crook to swindle if he dehumanizes his victims. At the end of Lolita, Lolita transfigures. She's a sensitive, care-worn woman, but only because HH realizes her as such. That's why he can murder the man who betrayed her at the end. He was a filthy mongrel that deserved to die for what he did to her. "She groped for words. I supplied them mentally ("He broke my heart. You merely broke my life")." I don't remember, but this could be the first time he "supplied [words] mentally" in a way that's true and unselfish. He finally understood her as a person and sacrificed himself to revenge her. Perhaps, HH's only redeeming quality.
In Nabokov's books where the villain is the protagonist, the only other charachter with real depth or psychology is a character who the protagonists loves. The little daughter in Laughter in the Dark, Lolita at the end the novel, Despair? The protagonist in that one is a sociopath and doesn't give his novel-mates anything, but their personalities pop out. You can feel them from the distance. Other novels I've read by him don't exactly fit this mold. In Pnin, everyone is a little characterized but still quite real, Pale Fire is written by an almost-villain and you love everyone but him, especially the wife of the poet, Invitation to a Beheading, not even the main protagonist was very real. He had the same consciousness and feelings that a "K" would have in one of Kafka's novels. But he had no believable history, it's all just a dreamscape that doesn't have half the terror as Kafka's novels have. I never finished Ada or Ador. It's Lolita x 10 in smuttiness. "Is this really necessary??" And it wasn't believable either. Just a fantasy.
Of course, not all his novels are going to follow the same formula, but they are written by the same writer, the same mind. So I'm still working on him. I really think he's one of the best writers of the 20th century. He doesn't just tell a story, he explores the psyche and human perceptions, how a certain person feels, sees, or reacts to things. If they were normal people, it wouldn't be interesting, but he picks villains or eccentrics.
I sort of believe the reason why most of the characters are 2 dimensional is precisely because of who is potraying them, a depraved person. A depraved person who commits terrible, unforgivable crimes against people. How could he commit those crimes if he saw them as the human beings that they are? It's easier for a crook to swindle if he dehumanizes his victims. At the end of Lolita, Lolita transfigures. She's a sensitive, care-worn woman, but only because HH realizes her as such. That's why he can murder the man who betrayed her at the end. He was a filthy mongrel that deserved to die for what he did to her. "She groped for words. I supplied them mentally ("He broke my heart. You merely broke my life")." I don't remember, but this could be the first time he "supplied [words] mentally" in a way that's true and unselfish. He finally understood her as a person and sacrificed himself to revenge her. Perhaps, HH's only redeeming quality.
In Nabokov's books where the villain is the protagonist, the only other charachter with real depth or psychology is a character who the protagonists loves. The little daughter in Laughter in the Dark, Lolita at the end the novel, Despair? The protagonist in that one is a sociopath and doesn't give his novel-mates anything, but their personalities pop out. You can feel them from the distance. Other novels I've read by him don't exactly fit this mold. In Pnin, everyone is a little characterized but still quite real, Pale Fire is written by an almost-villain and you love everyone but him, especially the wife of the poet, Invitation to a Beheading, not even the main protagonist was very real. He had the same consciousness and feelings that a "K" would have in one of Kafka's novels. But he had no believable history, it's all just a dreamscape that doesn't have half the terror as Kafka's novels have. I never finished Ada or Ador. It's Lolita x 10 in smuttiness. "Is this really necessary??" And it wasn't believable either. Just a fantasy.
Of course, not all his novels are going to follow the same formula, but they are written by the same writer, the same mind. So I'm still working on him. I really think he's one of the best writers of the 20th century. He doesn't just tell a story, he explores the psyche and human perceptions, how a certain person feels, sees, or reacts to things. If they were normal people, it wouldn't be interesting, but he picks villains or eccentrics.
September 21, 2021
I've lost count how many times I've read "Lolita." Ten is a guess, could be more. I love it.
(But not the covers. I want to take a sharpie to every one of them.)
I love Nabokov. He's not for everyone. No one is.
What follows is some advice and observations from me to those who are surprised and/or dismayed to find this famous infamous novel confusing (it can be) and disgusting (it's not) and Vlad a revolting, talentless hack (again, not).
I mean well.
Warning:
Do not read "Lolita" if you trust unreliable narrators.
DNF if by page 50 you still think her name is Lolita.
Advice and observations:
Her name is Dolores.
It's derived from the root "dolor." There are no coincidences in Nabokov.
Nabokov's books have a lot to say. But first, foremost and always they are about language, which he manipulates in the most spectacular ways: amazing.
Reading him requires, besides a taste for him, patience and hard work.
The harder you work the more you'll get out of it and each reading promises you'll get more each time.
But at first you don't have to work so hard.
There is no shame in annotated editions. Sometimes they're practically mandatory. And always respectable.
If you are new to "Lolita" an annotated version is an excellent choice, especially if you're also new to Nabokov.
The choice of an annotated "Lolita" combines your admirable humility with your sincere desire to appreciate Nabokov's art. You may still dislike the book and the writer, but it will be informed dislike; you and he will have earned it.
Or skip "Lolita" altogether. No shame in that.
Either way is far superior to reading it, hating it and posting a review full of outrage and fury and TMI over the exploitation you suffered in your own beautiful blonde childhood, and how you didn't ask for it (neither does she) and you're insulted Lolita (not her real name) is so flirtatious (she isn't) and deliberately enticing (she isn't) and a willing party to it all (no no no) and how dare Nabokov.
And you make your points using GIFs from Clueless.
Sincerely yours,
Vivian Darkbloom
(But not the covers. I want to take a sharpie to every one of them.)
I love Nabokov. He's not for everyone. No one is.
What follows is some advice and observations from me to those who are surprised and/or dismayed to find this famous infamous novel confusing (it can be) and disgusting (it's not) and Vlad a revolting, talentless hack (again, not).
I mean well.
Warning:
Do not read "Lolita" if you trust unreliable narrators.
DNF if by page 50 you still think her name is Lolita.
Advice and observations:
Her name is Dolores.
It's derived from the root "dolor." There are no coincidences in Nabokov.
Nabokov's books have a lot to say. But first, foremost and always they are about language, which he manipulates in the most spectacular ways: amazing.
Reading him requires, besides a taste for him, patience and hard work.
The harder you work the more you'll get out of it and each reading promises you'll get more each time.
But at first you don't have to work so hard.
There is no shame in annotated editions. Sometimes they're practically mandatory. And always respectable.
If you are new to "Lolita" an annotated version is an excellent choice, especially if you're also new to Nabokov.
The choice of an annotated "Lolita" combines your admirable humility with your sincere desire to appreciate Nabokov's art. You may still dislike the book and the writer, but it will be informed dislike; you and he will have earned it.
Or skip "Lolita" altogether. No shame in that.
Either way is far superior to reading it, hating it and posting a review full of outrage and fury and TMI over the exploitation you suffered in your own beautiful blonde childhood, and how you didn't ask for it (neither does she) and you're insulted Lolita (not her real name) is so flirtatious (she isn't) and deliberately enticing (she isn't) and a willing party to it all (no no no) and how dare Nabokov.
And you make your points using GIFs from Clueless.
Sincerely yours,
Vivian Darkbloom
November 6, 2021
Probably everyone recalls that iconic movie poster with a blond teenager peering above her heart-shaped sunglasses, a red lollipop on the tip of her tongue. This picture is directly inspired by a line in Nabokov鈥檚 novel, where middle-aged Humbert-Humbert sees 鈥渉is Lolita鈥� for the very first time. What follows is a tender, sad, and seemingly chaste love story between a man in his forties and (in his own words) a nymphette.
Lolita is a novel in the form of a confession. It is unclear throughout H.H鈥檚 story precisely what crime he has been convicted with. Paedophilia with Lolita? Paedophilia with another girl? The murder of his wife (Lolita鈥檚 mother)? The murder of the mysterious Clare Quilty? The narrator leaves clues, but the suspense remains. What troubles him the most are not the charges against him but the guilt stemming from his past desire, love, lust, and jealousy towards his stepdaughter. This feeling of inner conflict tints almost everything in this book.
Lolita is also a great road-novel, a painting of the American landscape and (not without some sarcasm) of the American way of life, as depicted by a foreigner who drops a French line now and then. This aspect of Nabokov鈥檚 novel is perhaps the most delicate and personal. And Humbert鈥檚 passion for Lolita鈥檚 young body is probably a metaphor of the love of an old European for a rolling young country.
It is well known that, despite his scandalous subject (the would have produced an altogether different treatment of it), Lolita is in no way an erotic novel 鈥� nor is Sacher-Masoch鈥檚 a book about kinky sex. It is the novel of an aesthete, fascinated by untouched beauty, by virgin landscapes, and by a language (English) for him to reveal in its unique musicality.
Lolita is a novel in the form of a confession. It is unclear throughout H.H鈥檚 story precisely what crime he has been convicted with. Paedophilia with Lolita? Paedophilia with another girl? The murder of his wife (Lolita鈥檚 mother)? The murder of the mysterious Clare Quilty? The narrator leaves clues, but the suspense remains. What troubles him the most are not the charges against him but the guilt stemming from his past desire, love, lust, and jealousy towards his stepdaughter. This feeling of inner conflict tints almost everything in this book.
Lolita is also a great road-novel, a painting of the American landscape and (not without some sarcasm) of the American way of life, as depicted by a foreigner who drops a French line now and then. This aspect of Nabokov鈥檚 novel is perhaps the most delicate and personal. And Humbert鈥檚 passion for Lolita鈥檚 young body is probably a metaphor of the love of an old European for a rolling young country.
It is well known that, despite his scandalous subject (the would have produced an altogether different treatment of it), Lolita is in no way an erotic novel 鈥� nor is Sacher-Masoch鈥檚 a book about kinky sex. It is the novel of an aesthete, fascinated by untouched beauty, by virgin landscapes, and by a language (English) for him to reveal in its unique musicality.
April 13, 2021
Human life is but a series of footnotes to a vast obscure unfinished masterpiece.
Opening a book is a unique conversation with another, the chance to enter and occupy the headspace of a writer, a character, a voice screaming out into the void. We see life鈥攐ur own world or fantastic realities that function as elaborate metaphors for our own鈥攖hrough another鈥檚 eyes, walk a mile in another鈥檚 skin as Atticus Finch would say, and learn that despite the differences between individuals, we are all part of the same chorus of humanity. There has been much research into showing that reading assists the building of empathy in children, and many fine publications such as articles in or a similar one in . Reading is a fresh perspective that helps us to shape our own. Lolita, a masterpiece by Vladimir Nabokov, takes us into the mind, heart and soul of a man none of us wish to become, yet Humbert Humbert鈥檚 voice is as important to the human comedy as is anyone else鈥檚 voice. Nabokov is a master of literary games and jokes, and Lolita is a work of art that often evokes knee-jerk reactions even just by mention of the title, which is precisely what Nabokov loves Nabokov has a fascination with literary games, detail and jokes, and Lolita is a gorgeously complex work that touches on taboo subjects to force our reaction and is loaded with allusions and important details and clues that invite us to play his game and learn. Vanity Fair called Lolita 鈥�The only convincing love story of our century,鈥� yet is it the relationship between Hubert and Dolores that is the love story (and tomes could be written debating the topic), or the love of literature? Lolita is a love story to language that soars through the stratosphere with some of the finest attention to detail in prose and plotting to seduce the reader into Humbert鈥檚 literary vision of events as justification of the horrors that transpire.
I鈥檝e no ideas to exploit, I just like composing riddles with elegant solutions - Nabokov*
Nabokov is a supreme maestro of language. Few authors since Joyce have such acute attention to the supreme specifications of each word choice to build the maximum potential of a sentence. 鈥�I only have words to play with鈥� insists Humbert, and Nabokov uses words like playthings with the very best of them. Each noun, verb and adjective are precisely picked to elevate the tone of a scene through connotative commentary as well as attention to poetic flow, puns and general atmosphere. Even the names are exquisitely invented, from Lolita chosen for 鈥�the necessary note of archness and caress鈥� and the last name Haze being a pun on the German word hase, meaning rabbit, which is suggestive of her as prey. There is also the music of the name Humbert Humbert:
Nabokov often rejects any interpretation of his work, insisting that it is just sheer creative force with nothing undermining the themes and symbols, a mere game of words being projected onto the page. While this may be a shirking of any Freudian (which he so detested) or deconstructionist interpretation, it is comforting to know that an author would pay such attention to words to build the perfect game board for the reader to immerse themselves in. America comes alive in his words and descriptions as Humbert and his charge travel the nation seeking any excuse for a sightseeing adventure. Even in the author's afterword Nabokov rejects the notion that Lolita is a commentary on America, or an examination of 鈥�young America debauching Old Europe or vice versa. As intention is often overshadowed by interpretation, the reader may find much to discuss in the matter, but what is most important is to see Nabokov constructing a linguistic America through the observations and experiences of Humbert as he travels. 鈥�It had taken me some forty years to invent Russia and Western Europe, said Nabokov in an interview discussing the creation of the novel, 鈥�and now I was faced with a similar task, with a lesser amount of time at my disposal.鈥� Nabokov set about inventing America in prose in Lolita, drawing on his travels and hotel stays with his wife on a butterfly hunting quest through the states to color the world of Humbert and create a true-to-life game board for his literary puzzles.
You can always count on a murder for a fancy prose style.
While the scintillating cacophony of words are the invention of Nabokov鈥檚, they are also of and through the character of Humbert Humbert. The aforementioned affection towards naming is part of Humbert鈥檚 method of pseudonyms that both protect the 鈥榬eal鈥� in-novel people but also nudge towards Humbert鈥檚 own literary bent This is a character that quotes and alludes to an erudite array of fiction in order to seek an authorial immortality of his own by putting his deeds to paper in eloquent fashion, both his immortality and that of his relationship with Dolores: 鈥�and this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.鈥� One is left to question the validity of truth鈥攖ruth of the assertion of the novel as a realistic portrayal of the Novel鈥檚 reality鈥攁s expressed by its narrator. Humbert is unquestionably an unreliable narrator, much like many of Poe鈥檚 narrators such as in through which every undergrad writes their first essay on unreliable narration.
In a kingdom by the sea.
The allusions to Poe鈥檚 work is highly critical to the understanding of Lolita. As Humbert would wish it to be understood, Humbert鈥檚 nymphomania stems from a romance pruned by death with Annabel Leigh during his youthful years. The two star-crossed pre-teens shared a summer fling before her untimely death, leaving Humbert鈥檚 sexual attraction stunted to those of similar budding maturity. The name and the constant references to a kingdom by the sea allude to the poem by , an author who married his 13 year old cousin. In fact, Humbert repeatedly reminds readers that romance with young girls is rampant in literature, such as Dante and his nine-year-old Beatrice or 鈥檚 (another author frequently alluded to in the text) fixation with young girls, and that many cultures historically saw no qualms with union between man and pre-teen girls. Humbert is attempting to justify his actions by seeking sanctuary in history. However, his history of amourous occasions with Annabel Leigh should be called into question for validity as the aptly named Annabel may only exist in Humbert鈥檚 literary vision of how things 鈥榮hould be鈥�. Funny how Ms Leigh is only captured in a photograph where she is blurred and indistinguishable, a photograph that Humbert is unable to produce. Perhaps she is merely a justification, a romanticised fantasy befitting of her name.
She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.
It must be questioned then as to what we can believe from Humbert. Lolita is a name given to Dolores by Humbert alone, her mother preferring the diminutive 鈥楲o鈥� (ponderously parallel to 鈥楬um鈥�). We understand Dolores only through the filter of Humbert and rarely do we even see her dialogue other than summarized by him. He insists that she was the one to seduce and sexualize him, but we are not present for the scene. Perhaps the seductive Lolita only exists in the mind of Humbert to accommodate his rationality and distract us, and himself, from the grisly truth of his statutory rape鹿. It would be interesting on a re-read to note every time Humbert refers to his step-daughter as Dolores, Lo, Dolly, or Lolita, as she seems to be Lolita only in the sexual moments. While Humbert insists upon his love for Lolita, often to win the heart of the reader by asserting genuine love, his love lands solely upon physical elements. She is repeatedly eyed over for her physical and sexual traits, but never for her personality or intellectual qualities (the latter of which he tends to condescend). The defines 鈥榣olita鈥� as a precociously seductive girl, though a more accurate definition would be a precociously sexual girl as affected by rape. Nabokov teases the knee-jerk reaction in the reader, and while many refuse to read the novel due to it鈥檚 taboo sexuality, it is equally disquieting how many thrive on it.虏
If, as Nabokov insists, the novel is not about the intermingling of Europe and America, perhaps the generational gap is the true investigation. While Humbert and his Lolita may have a relationship, there is an emotional gap of maturation that is evident even to Humbert. He sees in her stories an assertion of maturity that seems comical to adults, and her experimentation with sexuality reeks of juvenility to him, yet he pounces upon it like a lion lurking in the tall weeds. Humbert is highly vain and egotistical, constantly reminding the reader of his good looks. He even tells the reader that he looks similar to a music icon of whom which Dolores has a crush, a Dolores that falls victim to believing every magazine and commercial advertisement that falls her way. While Humbert is much older, he reflects the youth culture of intellectual and physical attraction and uses this to his advantage.
[W]e are inclined to endow our friends with the stability of type that literary characters acquire in the reader鈥檚 mind.
If Lolita is a joke, then the reader is the butt of it. As Dolores is seduced by Humbert, so is the reader by his charismatic ways. We are drawn into his world. into his justifications, enamored by his prose and then held in sick bondage to his will. We know that his story is a manifestation, yet we cannot escape it, practically don鈥檛 want to escape it as a sort of perverted Stockholm Syndrome. We are even made implicit in his crimes. 鈥�I need you, the reader, to imagine us, for we don't really exist if you don't,鈥� he tells us, bringing us into his first sexual experience with Lolita to make us a part of it. If we condemn him, then we must condemn ourselves since we complicit with the act. We are bonded to him and unable to escape by the time we realize he has wooed us with his words as he has wooed Dolores with his looks and intellect. We, the reader, are his judge and jury as he sits in prison with a fatal heart condition (he slips so far into his literary reenactment of his crimes that he writes himself to be literally dying of a broken heart), and he seduces us to both pardon him of his crimes and immortalize both himself and his love-lust for Lolita through our eternal reading and remembrance of him. Everything we read has been tweaked to literary perfection to accommodate his fantasy in our minds. Even Dolly's socks become a metaphor through his retelling. When she is his pure nymphet, her socks are pulled up and pure white. Yet as she fades in his eyes, her socks are always described as rumpled and soiled. Socks are a permeating motif of the novel that is both a indication of Humbert's literary assertions and a thermometer of his passion and opinion of his step-daughter.
Nabokov was obsessed with detail. In teaching he insisted upon maps of Dublin or Samsa鈥檚 apartment to understand Joyce and Kafka respectively. He made students visualize a train car to understand Anna Karenina. This is the sort of book to rub in the faces of anyone who insists that a blue chair can be a simple blue chair and not a symbol. Those sort of writers, if they are published, are not remembered because we have writers like Nabokov where every blessed word is another beautiful piece to the puzzle. Nabokov invented his literary America to give a map for his character鈥檚 to race across, and filled their travels with allusions, names made of anagrams, puns, jokes, and moral investigations. We cannot help but be seduced by Humbert become a further victim in his fantasy of Lolita drawn from the sensuality stolen between the legs of Dolores. While Humbert is a clear villain in a comedy of moral errors鲁 we realize that his illness is just one facet of him. We must remember when we condemn someone that there are many other facets of their personality and lives that aren鈥檛 that unlike our own. This is Nabokov鈥檚 joke on us all. 鈥�The rest is rust and stardust.鈥�
100/100
I loved you. I was a pentapod monster, but I loved you. I was despicable and brutal, and turpid, and everything, mais je t鈥檃imais, je t鈥檃imais! And there were times when I knew how you felt, and it was hell to know it, my little one. Lolita girl, brave Dolly Schiller.
*All quotes from the author, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the interviews and essays of Nabokov collected in . Furthermore, biographical information on Nabokov is lifted from .
鹿 Later in the novel Humbert drops his guard and recalls the sexual relationship between Hum and Lo as her left with hollow, sad eyes.
虏 Perhaps more people thrive on the Humbert justification than we鈥檇 like to admit, or at least have learned how to capitalize on it. The New Republic once ran a highly worth reading that addresses the 鈥榣olita culture鈥� in today鈥檚 world of pop icons like Brittany Spears posing with a teddy bear in the nude (we acknowledge that she is not underaged but invokes the image of a young girl) or Katy Perry singing about copulation in a living room blanket fort like a child. Also of interest in the article is the town of Lolita, Texas where officials considered changing the town name to distance themselves from the novel.
鲁 This novel is essentially a comedy, and is quite funny when you let your guard down. However, it is also a tragedy. Martin Amis provides a wonderful introduction that points out that the tragedy is not Humbert鈥檚 fate, which he deserves, or his murder of Quilty. Nobody seems to pass judgement on his murder, enacted in a sick yet hilariously slapstick scene. The true tragedy is Dolores in her role as Lolita. 鈥�He broke my heart. You merely broke my life.鈥�
Opening a book is a unique conversation with another, the chance to enter and occupy the headspace of a writer, a character, a voice screaming out into the void. We see life鈥攐ur own world or fantastic realities that function as elaborate metaphors for our own鈥攖hrough another鈥檚 eyes, walk a mile in another鈥檚 skin as Atticus Finch would say, and learn that despite the differences between individuals, we are all part of the same chorus of humanity. There has been much research into showing that reading assists the building of empathy in children, and many fine publications such as articles in or a similar one in . Reading is a fresh perspective that helps us to shape our own. Lolita, a masterpiece by Vladimir Nabokov, takes us into the mind, heart and soul of a man none of us wish to become, yet Humbert Humbert鈥檚 voice is as important to the human comedy as is anyone else鈥檚 voice. Nabokov is a master of literary games and jokes, and Lolita is a work of art that often evokes knee-jerk reactions even just by mention of the title, which is precisely what Nabokov loves Nabokov has a fascination with literary games, detail and jokes, and Lolita is a gorgeously complex work that touches on taboo subjects to force our reaction and is loaded with allusions and important details and clues that invite us to play his game and learn. Vanity Fair called Lolita 鈥�The only convincing love story of our century,鈥� yet is it the relationship between Hubert and Dolores that is the love story (and tomes could be written debating the topic), or the love of literature? Lolita is a love story to language that soars through the stratosphere with some of the finest attention to detail in prose and plotting to seduce the reader into Humbert鈥檚 literary vision of events as justification of the horrors that transpire.
I鈥檝e no ideas to exploit, I just like composing riddles with elegant solutions - Nabokov*
Nabokov is a supreme maestro of language. Few authors since Joyce have such acute attention to the supreme specifications of each word choice to build the maximum potential of a sentence. 鈥�I only have words to play with鈥� insists Humbert, and Nabokov uses words like playthings with the very best of them. Each noun, verb and adjective are precisely picked to elevate the tone of a scene through connotative commentary as well as attention to poetic flow, puns and general atmosphere. Even the names are exquisitely invented, from Lolita chosen for 鈥�the necessary note of archness and caress鈥� and the last name Haze being a pun on the German word hase, meaning rabbit, which is suggestive of her as prey. There is also the music of the name Humbert Humbert:
the double rumble is, I think, very nasty and suggestive. It is a hateful name for a hateful person. It is also a kingly name, and I needed a royal vibration for Humbert the Fierce and Humbert the Humble.The double rumble also exists with couples like John and Jean or Leslie and Louise to denote a cohesion of two individuals into a cumulative force of The Couple.
Nabokov often rejects any interpretation of his work, insisting that it is just sheer creative force with nothing undermining the themes and symbols, a mere game of words being projected onto the page. While this may be a shirking of any Freudian (which he so detested) or deconstructionist interpretation, it is comforting to know that an author would pay such attention to words to build the perfect game board for the reader to immerse themselves in. America comes alive in his words and descriptions as Humbert and his charge travel the nation seeking any excuse for a sightseeing adventure. Even in the author's afterword Nabokov rejects the notion that Lolita is a commentary on America, or an examination of 鈥�young America debauching Old Europe or vice versa. As intention is often overshadowed by interpretation, the reader may find much to discuss in the matter, but what is most important is to see Nabokov constructing a linguistic America through the observations and experiences of Humbert as he travels. 鈥�It had taken me some forty years to invent Russia and Western Europe, said Nabokov in an interview discussing the creation of the novel, 鈥�and now I was faced with a similar task, with a lesser amount of time at my disposal.鈥� Nabokov set about inventing America in prose in Lolita, drawing on his travels and hotel stays with his wife on a butterfly hunting quest through the states to color the world of Humbert and create a true-to-life game board for his literary puzzles.
You can always count on a murder for a fancy prose style.
While the scintillating cacophony of words are the invention of Nabokov鈥檚, they are also of and through the character of Humbert Humbert. The aforementioned affection towards naming is part of Humbert鈥檚 method of pseudonyms that both protect the 鈥榬eal鈥� in-novel people but also nudge towards Humbert鈥檚 own literary bent This is a character that quotes and alludes to an erudite array of fiction in order to seek an authorial immortality of his own by putting his deeds to paper in eloquent fashion, both his immortality and that of his relationship with Dolores: 鈥�and this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.鈥� One is left to question the validity of truth鈥攖ruth of the assertion of the novel as a realistic portrayal of the Novel鈥檚 reality鈥攁s expressed by its narrator. Humbert is unquestionably an unreliable narrator, much like many of Poe鈥檚 narrators such as in through which every undergrad writes their first essay on unreliable narration.
In a kingdom by the sea.
The allusions to Poe鈥檚 work is highly critical to the understanding of Lolita. As Humbert would wish it to be understood, Humbert鈥檚 nymphomania stems from a romance pruned by death with Annabel Leigh during his youthful years. The two star-crossed pre-teens shared a summer fling before her untimely death, leaving Humbert鈥檚 sexual attraction stunted to those of similar budding maturity. The name and the constant references to a kingdom by the sea allude to the poem by , an author who married his 13 year old cousin. In fact, Humbert repeatedly reminds readers that romance with young girls is rampant in literature, such as Dante and his nine-year-old Beatrice or 鈥檚 (another author frequently alluded to in the text) fixation with young girls, and that many cultures historically saw no qualms with union between man and pre-teen girls. Humbert is attempting to justify his actions by seeking sanctuary in history. However, his history of amourous occasions with Annabel Leigh should be called into question for validity as the aptly named Annabel may only exist in Humbert鈥檚 literary vision of how things 鈥榮hould be鈥�. Funny how Ms Leigh is only captured in a photograph where she is blurred and indistinguishable, a photograph that Humbert is unable to produce. Perhaps she is merely a justification, a romanticised fantasy befitting of her name.
She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.
It must be questioned then as to what we can believe from Humbert. Lolita is a name given to Dolores by Humbert alone, her mother preferring the diminutive 鈥楲o鈥� (ponderously parallel to 鈥楬um鈥�). We understand Dolores only through the filter of Humbert and rarely do we even see her dialogue other than summarized by him. He insists that she was the one to seduce and sexualize him, but we are not present for the scene. Perhaps the seductive Lolita only exists in the mind of Humbert to accommodate his rationality and distract us, and himself, from the grisly truth of his statutory rape鹿. It would be interesting on a re-read to note every time Humbert refers to his step-daughter as Dolores, Lo, Dolly, or Lolita, as she seems to be Lolita only in the sexual moments. While Humbert insists upon his love for Lolita, often to win the heart of the reader by asserting genuine love, his love lands solely upon physical elements. She is repeatedly eyed over for her physical and sexual traits, but never for her personality or intellectual qualities (the latter of which he tends to condescend). The defines 鈥榣olita鈥� as a precociously seductive girl, though a more accurate definition would be a precociously sexual girl as affected by rape. Nabokov teases the knee-jerk reaction in the reader, and while many refuse to read the novel due to it鈥檚 taboo sexuality, it is equally disquieting how many thrive on it.虏
If, as Nabokov insists, the novel is not about the intermingling of Europe and America, perhaps the generational gap is the true investigation. While Humbert and his Lolita may have a relationship, there is an emotional gap of maturation that is evident even to Humbert. He sees in her stories an assertion of maturity that seems comical to adults, and her experimentation with sexuality reeks of juvenility to him, yet he pounces upon it like a lion lurking in the tall weeds. Humbert is highly vain and egotistical, constantly reminding the reader of his good looks. He even tells the reader that he looks similar to a music icon of whom which Dolores has a crush, a Dolores that falls victim to believing every magazine and commercial advertisement that falls her way. While Humbert is much older, he reflects the youth culture of intellectual and physical attraction and uses this to his advantage.
[W]e are inclined to endow our friends with the stability of type that literary characters acquire in the reader鈥檚 mind.
If Lolita is a joke, then the reader is the butt of it. As Dolores is seduced by Humbert, so is the reader by his charismatic ways. We are drawn into his world. into his justifications, enamored by his prose and then held in sick bondage to his will. We know that his story is a manifestation, yet we cannot escape it, practically don鈥檛 want to escape it as a sort of perverted Stockholm Syndrome. We are even made implicit in his crimes. 鈥�I need you, the reader, to imagine us, for we don't really exist if you don't,鈥� he tells us, bringing us into his first sexual experience with Lolita to make us a part of it. If we condemn him, then we must condemn ourselves since we complicit with the act. We are bonded to him and unable to escape by the time we realize he has wooed us with his words as he has wooed Dolores with his looks and intellect. We, the reader, are his judge and jury as he sits in prison with a fatal heart condition (he slips so far into his literary reenactment of his crimes that he writes himself to be literally dying of a broken heart), and he seduces us to both pardon him of his crimes and immortalize both himself and his love-lust for Lolita through our eternal reading and remembrance of him. Everything we read has been tweaked to literary perfection to accommodate his fantasy in our minds. Even Dolly's socks become a metaphor through his retelling. When she is his pure nymphet, her socks are pulled up and pure white. Yet as she fades in his eyes, her socks are always described as rumpled and soiled. Socks are a permeating motif of the novel that is both a indication of Humbert's literary assertions and a thermometer of his passion and opinion of his step-daughter.
Nabokov was obsessed with detail. In teaching he insisted upon maps of Dublin or Samsa鈥檚 apartment to understand Joyce and Kafka respectively. He made students visualize a train car to understand Anna Karenina. This is the sort of book to rub in the faces of anyone who insists that a blue chair can be a simple blue chair and not a symbol. Those sort of writers, if they are published, are not remembered because we have writers like Nabokov where every blessed word is another beautiful piece to the puzzle. Nabokov invented his literary America to give a map for his character鈥檚 to race across, and filled their travels with allusions, names made of anagrams, puns, jokes, and moral investigations. We cannot help but be seduced by Humbert become a further victim in his fantasy of Lolita drawn from the sensuality stolen between the legs of Dolores. While Humbert is a clear villain in a comedy of moral errors鲁 we realize that his illness is just one facet of him. We must remember when we condemn someone that there are many other facets of their personality and lives that aren鈥檛 that unlike our own. This is Nabokov鈥檚 joke on us all. 鈥�The rest is rust and stardust.鈥�
100/100
I loved you. I was a pentapod monster, but I loved you. I was despicable and brutal, and turpid, and everything, mais je t鈥檃imais, je t鈥檃imais! And there were times when I knew how you felt, and it was hell to know it, my little one. Lolita girl, brave Dolly Schiller.
*All quotes from the author, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the interviews and essays of Nabokov collected in . Furthermore, biographical information on Nabokov is lifted from .
鹿 Later in the novel Humbert drops his guard and recalls the sexual relationship between Hum and Lo as her left with hollow, sad eyes.
I recall certain moments, let us call them icebergs in paradise, when after having had my fill of her 鈥揳fter fabulous, insane exertions that left me limp and azure-barred鈥揑 would gather her in my arms with, at last, a mute moan of human tenderness (her skin glistening in the neon light coming from the paved court through the slits in the blind, her soot-black lashes matted, her grave gray eyes more vacant than ever鈥揻or all the world a little patient still in the confusion of a drug after a major operation)鈥揳nd the tenderness would deepen to shame and despair, and I would lull and rock my lone light Lolita in my marble arms, and moan in her warm hair, and caress her at random and mutely ask her blessing, and at the peak of this human agonized selfless tendernessThere is a sense of remorse for his actions that sprout through his narrative in the later portion of the novel and ask us to rethink our earlier perceptions. This account of intercourse reveals one that is not as one of willful harmony but aggressive assertion of dominance over a passive partner.
虏 Perhaps more people thrive on the Humbert justification than we鈥檇 like to admit, or at least have learned how to capitalize on it. The New Republic once ran a highly worth reading that addresses the 鈥榣olita culture鈥� in today鈥檚 world of pop icons like Brittany Spears posing with a teddy bear in the nude (we acknowledge that she is not underaged but invokes the image of a young girl) or Katy Perry singing about copulation in a living room blanket fort like a child. Also of interest in the article is the town of Lolita, Texas where officials considered changing the town name to distance themselves from the novel.
鲁 This novel is essentially a comedy, and is quite funny when you let your guard down. However, it is also a tragedy. Martin Amis provides a wonderful introduction that points out that the tragedy is not Humbert鈥檚 fate, which he deserves, or his murder of Quilty. Nobody seems to pass judgement on his murder, enacted in a sick yet hilariously slapstick scene. The true tragedy is Dolores in her role as Lolita. 鈥�He broke my heart. You merely broke my life.鈥�
November 14, 2024
In this sulfurous and scandalous novel, Vladimir Nabokov succeeds in "lulling" the reader's ethics to bring him to consider the point of view of a pedophile's story. He skillfully plays with words to make him an accomplice and tolerate the sordid fantasies of his main character.
It goes beyond the sole question of pedophilia and incest, tilting received ideas with intelligence and finesse to deliver a heartbreaking story full of contradictions.
Bold, shocking, and haunting, despite our disgusting aversion, Nabokov delivers us the diary of a pedophile by playing down the role of the victim and embellishing the most disastrous baseness of this intolerable inclination.
The enormous provocative load can confuse more than one. It is disturbing, asking the reader to overcome his prejudices and give up his comfortable certainties about good and evil for a moment.
We admit the facets of the author's sophisticated, facetious, poetic, and erotic genius, who plays with first and third-person narration to confuse the reader and sometimes allow him to take a step back from the abject narrator.
Solar and lonely, this reading shines with a dark glow long after the last page turns.
It goes beyond the sole question of pedophilia and incest, tilting received ideas with intelligence and finesse to deliver a heartbreaking story full of contradictions.
Bold, shocking, and haunting, despite our disgusting aversion, Nabokov delivers us the diary of a pedophile by playing down the role of the victim and embellishing the most disastrous baseness of this intolerable inclination.
The enormous provocative load can confuse more than one. It is disturbing, asking the reader to overcome his prejudices and give up his comfortable certainties about good and evil for a moment.
We admit the facets of the author's sophisticated, facetious, poetic, and erotic genius, who plays with first and third-person narration to confuse the reader and sometimes allow him to take a step back from the abject narrator.
Solar and lonely, this reading shines with a dark glow long after the last page turns.
August 22, 2024
this was my first boyfriend's favorite book 馃槶馃槶 literally the biggest red flag 馃毄
August 26, 2023
Prof. Harry Levin of Harvard says it is a great book and darkly symbolical (Mr. Nabokov explicitly denies any symbolism). Graham Greene says that 鈥淟olita鈥� is a distinguished novel. William Styron says it is "uniquely droll" and "genuinely funny."
"Lolita," then, is undeniably news in the world of books. Unfortunately, it is bad news. There are two equally serious reasons why it isn't worth any adult reader's attention. The first is that it is dull, dull, dull in a pretentious, florid and archly fatuous fashion. The second is that it is repulsive.
"Lolita" is not crudely crammed with Anglo-Saxon nouns and verbs and explicitly described scenes of sexual violence. Its depravity is more refined. Mr. Nabokov, whose English vocabulary would astound the editors of the Oxford Dictionary, does not write cheap pornography. He writes highbrow pornography. Perhaps that is not his intention. Perhaps he thinks of his book as a satirical comedy and as an exploration of abnormal psychology. Nevertheless, "Lolita" is disgusting.
"Lolita" is a demonstration of the artistic pitfall that awaits a novelist who invades the clinical field of the case history. Since a large proportion of the human race is emotionally unbalanced and neuroses are so common as almost to be normal, novelists must rightly concern themselves with disturbed minds. But there is a line that is artistically perilous to cross.
Past the artistic danger line of madness is another even more fatal. It is where the particular mania is a perversion like Humbert's. To describe such a perversion with the pervert's enthusiasm without being disgusting is impossible. If Mr. Nabokov tried to do so he failed.
Tell it like it is, Orville! The above are excerpts from Orville Prescott's 1958 New York Times book review of Lolita back when Mr. Prescott was the most influential literary critic writing book reviews.
From my own experience of this classic, I would strongly recommend listening to the audio book narrated by Jeremy Irons, who does a masterful job of catching the flawless beauty of Mr. Nabokov's poetic language.
However, I must say, the subject matter of Lolita is not at all to my taste. I much prefer the author's Pale Fire and Pnin.
鈥淚 knew I had fallen in love with Lolita forever; but I also knew she would not be forever Lolita.鈥�
鈥� Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita
November 9, 2018
螒蠀蟿蠈 蟿慰 蔚蟺委 蟺慰位位维 蠂蟻蠈谓喂伪 伪蟺伪纬慰蟻蔚蠀渭苇谓慰 尾喂尾位委慰 伪尉委味蔚喂 维蟺蔚喂蟻伪 伪蟽蟿苇蟻喂伪 蟽蟿畏 尾伪胃渭委未伪 伪尉喂慰位蠈纬畏蟽畏蟼 蟿畏蟼 位慰纬慰蟿蔚蠂谓委伪蟼.
螘蠉位慰纬伪 苇位伪尾蔚 未喂伪蟽蟿维蟽蔚喂蟼 渭蠉胃慰蠀, 伪蠁慰蠉 慰 螡伪渭蟺蠈魏慰蠁 蠅蟼 蟺伪谓蔚蟺喂蟽蟿畏渭喂伪魏蠈蟼 未维蟽魏伪位慰蟼 伪尉喂慰胃伪蠉渭伪蟽蟿伪 蟺伪蟻伪蟽蟿伪蟿喂魏蠈蟼,渭伪纬谓畏蟿委味蔚喂 蟿慰 魏慰喂谓蠈 蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 蟿慰 "蟺伪委味蔚喂" 蟽蔚 苇谓伪 蟺伪喂蠂谓委未喂 "蟽蟿畏渭苇谓慰" 蟺维谓蠅 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 未喂维蠁伪谓畏 蟽魏伪魏喂苇蟻伪.
螚 螞慰位委蟿伪 蔚委谓伪喂 苇谓伪 渭蔚纬维位慰-渭蔚蟿伪蠁慰蟻喂魏维 魏伪喂 慰蠀蟽喂伪蟽蟿喂魏维- 未喂蟿蟿蠈 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿蠈蟻畏渭伪. 螒蟺慰 蟿畏 渭喂伪,蔚渭蟺位苇魏蔚喂 魏伪喂 蠁慰蟻蟿委味蔚喂 蟿慰谓 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿畏 蟺慰位蠉 苇谓蟿慰谓伪,尾伪胃喂维 魏伪喂 蟽蠀纬魏喂谓畏蟽喂伪魏维 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蟿蟻伪纬喂魏萎 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪,蠀蟺蔚蟻尾伪蟿喂魏萎, 蟺慰蠀 魏伪蟿伪蟻纬蔚委 蟿伪 魏伪胃蠅蟽蟺蟻苇蟺蔚喂 魏伪喂 尾维味蔚喂 "渭蟺慰蠀蟻位蠈蟿慰"蟽蟿畏 蠁伪谓蟿伪蟽委伪 魏伪喂
伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 维位位畏 伪蠀蟿蠈蟼 慰 渭苇纬喂蟽蟿慰蟼 未蟻伪渭伪蟿喂魏蠈蟼 蟿蔚蟻伪蟿慰位蠈纬慰蟼, 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 位伪尾蠀蟻喂谓胃蠋未畏 魏伪喂 蟺蔚蟻委蟺位慰魏畏 蟿蔚蠂谓喂魏萎 蟿慰蠀, 蟺伪蟻蠅未蔚委 魏伪喂 蔚喂蟻蠅谓蔚蠉蔚蟿伪喂 蠈位蔚蟼 蟿喂蟼 蟻蔚伪位喂蟽蟿喂魏苇蟼 蟽蠀渭尾维蟽蔚喂蟼,渭蔚蟿伪蠁苇蟻慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿伪 位蔚纬蠈渭蔚谓伪 蟿慰蠀 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蔚 苇谓伪 蟺伪喂蠂谓委未喂 蟺慰蠀 蠀蟺慰谓慰渭蔚蠉蔚喂 蟿伪 蟺维谓蟿伪.
螇 未苇蠂蔚蟽伪喂 蟿畏谓 蟺慰位蠀蟽蠂喂未萎 魏伪喂 慰蠀蟽喂蠋未畏 纬蟻伪蠁萎 蟿慰蠀 螡伪渭蟺蠈魏慰蠁 蟺慰蠀 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂蠋蟼 渭蔚 蔚蟺喂未蔚尉喂蠈蟿畏蟿伪 蟽慰蠀 胃慰位蠋谓蔚喂 蟿慰 渭蠀伪位蠈 魏伪喂 蟿畏 蟽魏苇蠄畏 魏伪喂 蟽蔚 渭伪纬谓畏蟿委味蔚喂 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 魏伪蟿维蟽蟿伪蟽畏 蠉蟺伪蟻尉畏蟼 蠈蟺慰蠀 畏 蟿苇蠂谓畏 蟿慰蠀 纬蟻伪蟺蟿慰蠉 位蠈纬慰蠀 蔚委谓伪喂 渭蠈谓慰:蟺蔚蟻喂苇蟻纬蔚喂伪-蟿蟻蠀蠁蔚蟻蠈蟿畏蟿伪-蔚蠀纬苇谓蔚喂伪 魏伪喂 苇魏蟽蟿伪蟽畏,
萎 蟿慰 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿畏蟻委味蔚喂蟼 尾喂尾位委慰 渭伪谓喂伪魏萎蟼 未喂伪蠁胃慰蟻维蟼 魏伪喂 蟺蟻慰蟽尾慰位萎蟼 蟿畏蟼 伪喂蟽胃畏蟿喂魏萎蟼 伪蟺蠈位伪蠀蟽畏蟼 蠂蠅蟻委蟼 畏胃喂魏蠈 未委未伪纬渭伪 魏伪喂 蟿慰 魏位蔚委谓蔚喂蟼 蟺蟻喂谓 蟿慰谓 蟺蟻蠈位慰纬慰.
螘委谓伪喂 苇谓伪 "蟺慰蟻谓慰纬蟻维蠁畏渭伪" 蟺慰蠀 未蔚谓 蟺蔚蟻喂苇蠂蔚喂 慰蠉蟿蔚 渭委伪 蠂蠀未伪委伪 位苇尉畏,慰蠉蟿蔚 渭委伪 蟺蔚蟻喂纬蟻伪蠁萎 蟺蟻蠈蟽蟿蠀蠂畏蟼 萎 苇蟽蟿蠅 蟺喂魏维谓蟿喂魏畏蟼 蔚蟻蠅蟿喂魏萎蟼 蟽魏畏谓萎蟼. 螣蠉蟿蔚 渭委伪.
螞慰纬喂魏维 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿畏蟻喂蟽渭苇谓慰 魏伪喂 伪蟺伪纬慰蟻蔚蠀渭苇谓慰 伪蠁慰蠉 蟿慰 胃苇渭伪 蟿慰蠀 蔚委谓伪喂 畏 蟺伪喂未慰蠁喂位委伪-蟺蠈蟽慰 蟺慰谓维蔚喂 伪蠀蟿萎 畏 位苇尉畏 渭蔚 蠈位畏 蟿畏 蟽畏渭伪蟽委伪 蟿畏蟼-魏伪喂 渭喂伪 伪谓委蔚蟻畏 蟽蠂苇蟽畏,渭喂伪 位蠀蟻喂魏萎 魏伪喂 蔚喂蟻蠅谓喂魏萎 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪 纬喂伪 苇谓伪谓 魏伪蟿伪未喂魏伪蟽渭苇谓慰 魏伪喂 伪畏未喂伪蟽蟿喂魏蠈 苇蟻蠅蟿伪.
Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins...
螠蔚 伪蠀蟿维 蟿伪 位蠈纬喂伪 蔚谓蠈蟼 蟿蟻喂伪谓蟿伪蟺蔚谓蟿维蠂蟻慰谓慰蠀 维谓蟿蟻伪 蟺蟻慰蟼 苇谓伪 未蠅未蔚魏维蠂蟻慰谓慰 魏慰蟻喂蟿蟽维魏喂 尉蔚魏喂谓维蔚喂 畏 螞慰位委蟿伪.
螣 围维渭蟺蔚蟻蟿 围维渭蟺蔚蟻蟿 蔚委谓伪喂 慰 萎蟻蠅伪蟼 魏伪喂 伪蠁畏纬畏蟿萎蟼 蟿畏蟼 蠁蟻喂魏喂伪蟽蟿喂魏萎蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪蟼.
螝伪蟿伪蠁苇蟻谓蔚喂 谓伪 纬委谓蔚喂 蟺伪蟿蟻喂蠈蟼 蟿畏蟼 渭喂魏蟻萎蟼 螡蟿慰位蠈蟻蔚蟼 萎 蠂伪蠆未蔚蠀蟿喂魏维 螞慰-位委-蟿伪, 蟿畏谓 慰蟺慰委伪 魏伪喂 渭蔚纬伪位蠋谓蔚喂 渭蔚蟿维 蟿慰 胃维谓伪蟿慰 蟿畏蟼 渭畏蟿苇蟻伪蟼 蟿畏蟼,纬委谓蔚蟿伪喂 蔚蟻伪蟽蟿萎蟼 蟿畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟿畏谓 魏蟻伪蟿维蔚喂 未苇蟽渭喂伪 魏伪喂 伪蟽蠁蠀魏蟿喂魏维 魏慰位位畏渭苇谓畏 蟺维谓蠅 蟿慰蠀 伪蠁慰蠉 蔚委谓伪喂 蠄蠀蠂蠅蟿喂魏蠈蟼,蔚渭渭慰谓喂魏蠈蟼 魏伪喂 伪未蠉谓伪渭慰蟼 渭苇蠂蟻喂 胃伪谓维蟿慰蠀 谓伪 未喂伪蠂蔚喂蟻喂蟽蟿蔚委 蟿慰 蟺维胃慰蟼 蟿慰蠀 纬喂伪 蟿慰 蟺伪喂未委.
螕蟻伪渭渭苇谓慰 蟽蔚 蟺蟻蠋蟿慰 蟺蟻蠈蟽蠅蟺慰-纬喂伪 谓伪 蟽蔚 蔚尉慰蟻纬委味蔚喂 蟺蔚蟻喂蟽蟽蠈蟿蔚蟻慰-蟿慰 尾喂尾位委慰 伪蠀蟿蠈 魏伪蟿伪蠁苇蟻谓蔚喂 谓伪 未喂蔚喂蟽未蠉蟽蔚喂 蟽蟿畏 尾伪胃喂维 蟻喂味蠅渭苇谓畏 位伪蠂蟿维蟻伪 蟿慰蠀 围维渭蟺蔚蟻蟿 纬喂伪 蠈位伪 蟿伪 魏慰蟻喂蟿蟽维魏喂伪 9-14 蔚蟿蠋谓 蟺慰蠀 伪蟺慰魏伪位蔚委 谓蠀渭蠁委未喂伪. 违蟺慰蠁苇蟻蔚喂, 蟽蠂蔚未喂维味蔚喂,慰谓蔚喂蟻蔚蠉蔚蟿伪喂,蟺伪蟻伪位畏蟻蔚委,蠁伪谓蟿维味蔚蟿伪喂 魏伪喂 魏维谓蔚喂 伪蠀蟿慰蟽魏慰蟺蠈 蟿慰 伪蟻蟻蠅蟽蟿畏渭苇谓慰 蟿慰蠀 蟺维胃慰蟼. 韦伪 魏伪蟿伪蠁苇蟻谓蔚喂. 螆蠂蔚喂 蟿畏 螞慰位委蟿伪 未喂魏萎 蟿慰蠀. 螝蟿萎渭伪 蟿慰蠀. 螘蟻蠅渭苇谓畏 蟿慰蠀. 螖畏渭喂慰蠉蟻纬畏渭伪 蟿慰蠀. 螝伪蟿伪蟽蟿蟻慰蠁萎 蟿慰蠀.
"螞慰位委蟿伪, 蟺蔚胃伪委谓蠅, 蟿蔚位蔚喂蠋谓蠅. 螚 蔚谓慰蠂萎 魏伪喂 蟿慰 渭委蟽慰蟼 渭蔚 魏伪委蔚喂. 螝伪喂 尉伪谓维 蟿畏 纬蟻慰胃喂维 渭慰蠀 蟽慰蠀 蠀蠄蠋谓蠅 魏伪喂 尉伪谓维 畏 蠁蠅谓慰蠉位伪 蟽慰蠀 魏位伪委蔚喂......螞慰位委蟿伪, 蠁蠅蟼 蟿畏蟼 味蠅萎蟼 渭慰蠀, 蠁蠅蟿喂维 蟿蠅谓 位伪纬蠈谓蠅谓 渭慰蠀. 螁渭伪蟻蟿畏渭维 渭慰蠀 蔚蟽蠉, 蠄蠀蠂萎 渭慰蠀".
螕蟻慰胃喂维 蟽蟿慰 蟽蟿慰渭维蠂喂 畏 位慰纬慰蟿蔚蠂谓喂魏萎 未喂伪蟽蟿蟻慰蠁喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪 蟿慰蠀 螡伪渭蟺蠈魏慰蠁. 螠伪蟼 蟽蟿萎谓蔚喂 蟿畏 蠁维魏伪 蟺蔚蟻委蟿蔚蠂谓伪 魏伪喂 蟺苇蠁蟿慰蠀渭蔚 渭苇蟽伪,蠈位慰喂, 伪魏蠈渭伪 魏伪喂 慰喂 蟺喂慰 苇渭蟺蔚喂蟻慰喂 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿蔚蟼. 危委纬慰蠀蟻伪. 螠苇纬喂蟽蟿畏 蟺伪蟻蠅未委伪. 螝伪谓蔚委蟼 未蔚谓 尉蔚蠁蔚蠉纬蔚喂.
螘魏蔚委 蟺慰蠀 渭蟺伪委谓蔚喂蟼 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蟿畏谓 蟺蟻慰蟽蠅蟺喂魏萎 蟿蟻伪纬喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪 魏伪喂 伪蟺慰未苇蠂蔚蟽伪喂 渭蔚 伪蟺苇蠂胃蔚喂伪 蟿慰 伪蟻蟻蠅蟽蟿畏渭苇谓慰 蟺维胃慰蟼, 蔚魏蔚委 蟺慰蠀 位蠀蟺维蟽伪喂 蟿慰谓 "蟺慰喂畏蟿萎-伪蠁畏纬畏蟿萎-未蟻维蟽蟿畏" 蠈蟿伪谓 伪蟺慰位慰纬蔚委蟿伪喂 纬蟻伪蟺蟿蠋蟼 魏伪喂 蠁蠅谓维味蔚喂 蟿畏谓 伪喂蟿委伪 蟿畏蟼 未蠀蟽蟿蠀蠂委伪蟼 蟿慰蠀, 蔚尉慰渭慰位慰纬慰蠉渭蔚谓慰蟼 苇谓伪 蟺伪喂未喂魏蠈 蟿慰蠀 蟿蟻伪蠉渭伪 魏伪喂 胃蟻畏谓蔚委 魏伪喂 慰未蠉蟻蔚蟿伪喂,渭蔚蟿伪谓喂蠅渭苇谓慰蟼 蟺慰蠀 魏伪蟿维蟽蟿蟻蔚蠄蔚 渭喂伪 蟺伪喂未喂魏萎 蠄蠀蠂萎 位苇纬慰谓蟿伪蟼:
"螇渭慰蠀谓 苇谓伪 蟺蔚谓蟿维蟺慰未慰 蟿苇蟻伪蟼 伪位位维 蟽蔚 伪纬维蟺畏蟽伪.螇渭慰蠀谓 蟺慰蟿伪蟺蠈蟼 魏伪喂 伪蠂蟻蔚委慰蟼 魏伪喂 魏蟿畏谓蠋未畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟿伪 蟺维谓蟿伪". 螘魏蔚委,蟺维谓蠅 蟽蟿畏谓 蔚尉慰渭慰位蠈纬畏蟽畏 蔚喂谓伪喂 蟽蟿畏渭苇谓畏 畏 蟺伪纬委未伪.
螝伪喂 蠈蟿伪谓 渭苇蟽伪 伪蟺慰 蟿慰 畏胃喂魏蠈 位蔚尉喂位蠈纬喂慰 蟿慰蠀 伪蟻蟻蠋蟽蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 渭蔚蟿伪谓喂蠅渭苇谓慰蠀 纬蔚谓谓喂苇蟿伪喂 畏 未喂蟺位萎 蟿慰蠀 蟺蟻慰蟽蠅蟺喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪 蟽蟿慰 蟺蟻蠈蟽蠅蟺慰 蟿慰蠀 螝位苇蟻 螝委位蟿喂, 尾位苇蟺慰蠀渭蔚 维谓伪蠀未慰喂 苇谓伪谓 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻伪 纬蔚位慰委慰,蟺伪蟻维位慰纬慰,未喂蔚蟽蟿蟻伪渭渭苇谓慰 魏伪喂 纬魏蟻慰蟿苇蟽魏慰. 螕喂伪蟿委 蔚谓蟽伪蟻魏蠋谓蔚喂 蟿畏谓 伪位萎胃蔚喂伪 魏伪喂 渭喂伪 魏伪蟻喂魏伪蟿慰蠉蟻伪 蟿畏蟼. 螘委谓伪喂 畏 蔚谓慰蠂萎 蟿慰蠀 围维渭蟺蔚蟻蟿 魏伪喂 畏 蟺伪蟻蠅未委伪 蟿慰蠀 蠄蠀蠂喂魏慰蠉 未喂蟺慰位喂蟽渭慰蠉.
螝伪喂 苇蟻蠂蔚蟿伪喂 畏 维蟻谓畏蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 伪蟺慰未慰蠂萎蟼.
螝伪喂 尉伪谓维 蟽喂蠂伪委谓蔚蟿伪喂 蟿慰谓 蔚伪蠀蟿蠈 蟽慰蠀 蟺慰蠀 位委纬慰 魏蠈谓蟿蔚蠄蔚 谓伪 位蠀蟺畏胃蔚委蟼 伪蠀蟿蠈 蟿慰 魏蟿萎谓慰蟼. 螝伪喂 渭蔚蟿维 苇蟻蠂蔚蟿伪喂 蟿慰 苇纬魏位畏渭伪 魏伪喂 蟺维位喂 蟺伪位喂谓慰未蔚委蟼 纬喂伪蟿委 慰 伪谓萎胃喂魏慰蟼 蟽魏慰蟿蠋谓蔚喂 蟿慰谓 畏胃喂魏蠈 蠈渭蠅蟼 慰 伪谓萎胃喂魏慰蟼 伪纬维蟺畏蟽蔚 尾伪胃喂维 蟿畏 螞慰位委蟿伪.
螝伪喂 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂委味蔚喂蟼 渭苇蠂蟻喂 蟿苇位慰蠀蟼 谓伪 蟺蔚蟻喂蟽蟿蟻苇蠁蔚蟽伪喂 伪谓伪蟺慰未慰纬蠀蟻委味慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿喂蟼 蟽蠀渭尾维蟽蔚喂蟼 魏伪喂 蟿慰 未委魏喂慰 魏伪喂 蟿慰 畏胃喂魏蠈 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蟿慰谓 魏蠀魏蔚蠋谓伪 魏伪蟿伪蟽蟿维蟽蔚蠅谓 蟺慰蠀 蟽蔚 慰蟻委味蔚喂 胃蠉蟿畏 魏伪喂 胃蠉渭伪 慰 蟺伪谓慰蠉蟻纬慰蟼 蟽蠀纬纬蟻伪蠁苇伪蟼.
螘螢螒螜巍螘韦螜螝螣 螔螜螔螞螜螣.
螚 蠂蟻萎蟽畏 蟿慰蠀 位蔚尉喂位慰纬委慰蠀 伪渭喂位位维蟿伪喂 蟿慰 "蔚蟻蠅蟿喂魏蠈" 魏伪喂 未喂蔚蟽蟿蟻伪渭渭苇谓慰 蟺蔚蟻喂蔚蠂蠈渭蔚谓慰 蟿畏蟼 伪蠁萎纬畏蟽畏蟼.
螖喂伪尾维蟽蟿蔚 蟿慰.
螤伪蟻维 蟿慰 蠁伪喂谓慰渭蔚谓喂魏蠈 胃苇渭伪 蟺慰蠀 伪蠁慰蟺位委味蔚喂 魏伪喂 蟽伪蟽蟿委味蔚喂.
螒尉委味蔚喂 纬喂伪 蠈位蔚蟼 蟿喂蟼 蟺伪纬委未蔚蟼 魏伪喂 蟿喂蟼 渭蔚蟿伪渭慰蟻蠁蠋蟽蔚喂蟼. 螘委蟿蔚 蔚委蟽蟿蔚 蟽蟿畏 渭喂伪 蟺位蔚蠀蟻维 蟿畏蟼 位喂渭谓慰蠉位伪蟼 蟿慰蠀 螡伪渭蟺蠈魏慰蠁,纬蔚渭维蟿畏 魏伪胃维蟻喂慰,未喂维蠁伪谓慰 谓蔚蟻蠈 渭蔚 蟽蟺维谓喂伪 魏慰蠂蠉位喂伪 魏伪喂 位蔚委慰 蟺蠀胃渭苇谓伪,蔚委蟿蔚 蔚委蟽蟿蔚 伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 维位位畏 蟿畏 纬蔚渭维蟿畏 蟽蠉纬蠂蠀蟽畏,位维蟽蟺畏,渭蔚位维谓喂 魏伪喂 蟽慰蠀蟺喂苇蟼,
蟿伪 未喂伪胃位蠋渭蔚谓伪 谓蔚蟻维 蟿慰蠀 魏伪位慰蠉 魏伪喂 蟿慰蠀 魏伪魏慰蠉 蟽蠀纬蠂苇慰谓蟿伪喂 蟿蟻慰渭蔚蟻维.
"螇蟿伪谓 螞慰, 伪蟺位萎 螞慰 蟿慰 蟺蟻蠅喂谓蠈, 蟿苇蟽蟽蔚蟻伪 蟺蠈未喂伪 魏伪喂 未苇魏伪 委谓蟿蟽蔚蟼, 慰蟻胃萎 渭蔚 蟿慰 苇谓伪 蟿畏蟼 蟽慰蟽蠈谓喂. 螇蟿伪谓 螞蠈位伪 蠁慰蟻蠋谓蟿伪蟼 蟺伪谓蟿蔚位蠈谓喂伪. 螇蟿伪谓 螡蟿蠈位位蠀 蟽蟿慰 蟽蠂慰位蔚委慰, 螡蟿慰位蠈蟻蔚蟼 蟽蟿慰 位畏尉喂伪蟻蠂蔚委慰. 螌渭蠅蟼 蟽蟿畏 未喂魏萎 渭慰蠀 伪纬魏伪位喂维 萎蟿伪谓 蟺维谓蟿伪, 魏维胃蔚 蠁慰蟻维, 螞螣螞螜韦螒".
馃槇铀ワ笍馃槇
螝伪位萎 伪谓维纬谓蠅蟽畏!!
螤慰位位慰蠉蟼 伪蟽蟺伪蟽渭慰蠉蟼!
螘蠉位慰纬伪 苇位伪尾蔚 未喂伪蟽蟿维蟽蔚喂蟼 渭蠉胃慰蠀, 伪蠁慰蠉 慰 螡伪渭蟺蠈魏慰蠁 蠅蟼 蟺伪谓蔚蟺喂蟽蟿畏渭喂伪魏蠈蟼 未维蟽魏伪位慰蟼 伪尉喂慰胃伪蠉渭伪蟽蟿伪 蟺伪蟻伪蟽蟿伪蟿喂魏蠈蟼,渭伪纬谓畏蟿委味蔚喂 蟿慰 魏慰喂谓蠈 蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 蟿慰 "蟺伪委味蔚喂" 蟽蔚 苇谓伪 蟺伪喂蠂谓委未喂 "蟽蟿畏渭苇谓慰" 蟺维谓蠅 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 未喂维蠁伪谓畏 蟽魏伪魏喂苇蟻伪.
螚 螞慰位委蟿伪 蔚委谓伪喂 苇谓伪 渭蔚纬维位慰-渭蔚蟿伪蠁慰蟻喂魏维 魏伪喂 慰蠀蟽喂伪蟽蟿喂魏维- 未喂蟿蟿蠈 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿蠈蟻畏渭伪. 螒蟺慰 蟿畏 渭喂伪,蔚渭蟺位苇魏蔚喂 魏伪喂 蠁慰蟻蟿委味蔚喂 蟿慰谓 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿畏 蟺慰位蠉 苇谓蟿慰谓伪,尾伪胃喂维 魏伪喂 蟽蠀纬魏喂谓畏蟽喂伪魏维 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蟿蟻伪纬喂魏萎 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪,蠀蟺蔚蟻尾伪蟿喂魏萎, 蟺慰蠀 魏伪蟿伪蟻纬蔚委 蟿伪 魏伪胃蠅蟽蟺蟻苇蟺蔚喂 魏伪喂 尾维味蔚喂 "渭蟺慰蠀蟻位蠈蟿慰"蟽蟿畏 蠁伪谓蟿伪蟽委伪 魏伪喂
伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 维位位畏 伪蠀蟿蠈蟼 慰 渭苇纬喂蟽蟿慰蟼 未蟻伪渭伪蟿喂魏蠈蟼 蟿蔚蟻伪蟿慰位蠈纬慰蟼, 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 位伪尾蠀蟻喂谓胃蠋未畏 魏伪喂 蟺蔚蟻委蟺位慰魏畏 蟿蔚蠂谓喂魏萎 蟿慰蠀, 蟺伪蟻蠅未蔚委 魏伪喂 蔚喂蟻蠅谓蔚蠉蔚蟿伪喂 蠈位蔚蟼 蟿喂蟼 蟻蔚伪位喂蟽蟿喂魏苇蟼 蟽蠀渭尾维蟽蔚喂蟼,渭蔚蟿伪蠁苇蟻慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿伪 位蔚纬蠈渭蔚谓伪 蟿慰蠀 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蔚 苇谓伪 蟺伪喂蠂谓委未喂 蟺慰蠀 蠀蟺慰谓慰渭蔚蠉蔚喂 蟿伪 蟺维谓蟿伪.
螇 未苇蠂蔚蟽伪喂 蟿畏谓 蟺慰位蠀蟽蠂喂未萎 魏伪喂 慰蠀蟽喂蠋未畏 纬蟻伪蠁萎 蟿慰蠀 螡伪渭蟺蠈魏慰蠁 蟺慰蠀 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂蠋蟼 渭蔚 蔚蟺喂未蔚尉喂蠈蟿畏蟿伪 蟽慰蠀 胃慰位蠋谓蔚喂 蟿慰 渭蠀伪位蠈 魏伪喂 蟿畏 蟽魏苇蠄畏 魏伪喂 蟽蔚 渭伪纬谓畏蟿委味蔚喂 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 魏伪蟿维蟽蟿伪蟽畏 蠉蟺伪蟻尉畏蟼 蠈蟺慰蠀 畏 蟿苇蠂谓畏 蟿慰蠀 纬蟻伪蟺蟿慰蠉 位蠈纬慰蠀 蔚委谓伪喂 渭蠈谓慰:蟺蔚蟻喂苇蟻纬蔚喂伪-蟿蟻蠀蠁蔚蟻蠈蟿畏蟿伪-蔚蠀纬苇谓蔚喂伪 魏伪喂 苇魏蟽蟿伪蟽畏,
萎 蟿慰 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿畏蟻委味蔚喂蟼 尾喂尾位委慰 渭伪谓喂伪魏萎蟼 未喂伪蠁胃慰蟻维蟼 魏伪喂 蟺蟻慰蟽尾慰位萎蟼 蟿畏蟼 伪喂蟽胃畏蟿喂魏萎蟼 伪蟺蠈位伪蠀蟽畏蟼 蠂蠅蟻委蟼 畏胃喂魏蠈 未委未伪纬渭伪 魏伪喂 蟿慰 魏位蔚委谓蔚喂蟼 蟺蟻喂谓 蟿慰谓 蟺蟻蠈位慰纬慰.
螘委谓伪喂 苇谓伪 "蟺慰蟻谓慰纬蟻维蠁畏渭伪" 蟺慰蠀 未蔚谓 蟺蔚蟻喂苇蠂蔚喂 慰蠉蟿蔚 渭委伪 蠂蠀未伪委伪 位苇尉畏,慰蠉蟿蔚 渭委伪 蟺蔚蟻喂纬蟻伪蠁萎 蟺蟻蠈蟽蟿蠀蠂畏蟼 萎 苇蟽蟿蠅 蟺喂魏维谓蟿喂魏畏蟼 蔚蟻蠅蟿喂魏萎蟼 蟽魏畏谓萎蟼. 螣蠉蟿蔚 渭委伪.
螞慰纬喂魏维 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿畏蟻喂蟽渭苇谓慰 魏伪喂 伪蟺伪纬慰蟻蔚蠀渭苇谓慰 伪蠁慰蠉 蟿慰 胃苇渭伪 蟿慰蠀 蔚委谓伪喂 畏 蟺伪喂未慰蠁喂位委伪-蟺蠈蟽慰 蟺慰谓维蔚喂 伪蠀蟿萎 畏 位苇尉畏 渭蔚 蠈位畏 蟿畏 蟽畏渭伪蟽委伪 蟿畏蟼-魏伪喂 渭喂伪 伪谓委蔚蟻畏 蟽蠂苇蟽畏,渭喂伪 位蠀蟻喂魏萎 魏伪喂 蔚喂蟻蠅谓喂魏萎 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪 纬喂伪 苇谓伪谓 魏伪蟿伪未喂魏伪蟽渭苇谓慰 魏伪喂 伪畏未喂伪蟽蟿喂魏蠈 苇蟻蠅蟿伪.
Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins...
螠蔚 伪蠀蟿维 蟿伪 位蠈纬喂伪 蔚谓蠈蟼 蟿蟻喂伪谓蟿伪蟺蔚谓蟿维蠂蟻慰谓慰蠀 维谓蟿蟻伪 蟺蟻慰蟼 苇谓伪 未蠅未蔚魏维蠂蟻慰谓慰 魏慰蟻喂蟿蟽维魏喂 尉蔚魏喂谓维蔚喂 畏 螞慰位委蟿伪.
螣 围维渭蟺蔚蟻蟿 围维渭蟺蔚蟻蟿 蔚委谓伪喂 慰 萎蟻蠅伪蟼 魏伪喂 伪蠁畏纬畏蟿萎蟼 蟿畏蟼 蠁蟻喂魏喂伪蟽蟿喂魏萎蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪蟼.
螝伪蟿伪蠁苇蟻谓蔚喂 谓伪 纬委谓蔚喂 蟺伪蟿蟻喂蠈蟼 蟿畏蟼 渭喂魏蟻萎蟼 螡蟿慰位蠈蟻蔚蟼 萎 蠂伪蠆未蔚蠀蟿喂魏维 螞慰-位委-蟿伪, 蟿畏谓 慰蟺慰委伪 魏伪喂 渭蔚纬伪位蠋谓蔚喂 渭蔚蟿维 蟿慰 胃维谓伪蟿慰 蟿畏蟼 渭畏蟿苇蟻伪蟼 蟿畏蟼,纬委谓蔚蟿伪喂 蔚蟻伪蟽蟿萎蟼 蟿畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟿畏谓 魏蟻伪蟿维蔚喂 未苇蟽渭喂伪 魏伪喂 伪蟽蠁蠀魏蟿喂魏维 魏慰位位畏渭苇谓畏 蟺维谓蠅 蟿慰蠀 伪蠁慰蠉 蔚委谓伪喂 蠄蠀蠂蠅蟿喂魏蠈蟼,蔚渭渭慰谓喂魏蠈蟼 魏伪喂 伪未蠉谓伪渭慰蟼 渭苇蠂蟻喂 胃伪谓维蟿慰蠀 谓伪 未喂伪蠂蔚喂蟻喂蟽蟿蔚委 蟿慰 蟺维胃慰蟼 蟿慰蠀 纬喂伪 蟿慰 蟺伪喂未委.
螕蟻伪渭渭苇谓慰 蟽蔚 蟺蟻蠋蟿慰 蟺蟻蠈蟽蠅蟺慰-纬喂伪 谓伪 蟽蔚 蔚尉慰蟻纬委味蔚喂 蟺蔚蟻喂蟽蟽蠈蟿蔚蟻慰-蟿慰 尾喂尾位委慰 伪蠀蟿蠈 魏伪蟿伪蠁苇蟻谓蔚喂 谓伪 未喂蔚喂蟽未蠉蟽蔚喂 蟽蟿畏 尾伪胃喂维 蟻喂味蠅渭苇谓畏 位伪蠂蟿维蟻伪 蟿慰蠀 围维渭蟺蔚蟻蟿 纬喂伪 蠈位伪 蟿伪 魏慰蟻喂蟿蟽维魏喂伪 9-14 蔚蟿蠋谓 蟺慰蠀 伪蟺慰魏伪位蔚委 谓蠀渭蠁委未喂伪. 违蟺慰蠁苇蟻蔚喂, 蟽蠂蔚未喂维味蔚喂,慰谓蔚喂蟻蔚蠉蔚蟿伪喂,蟺伪蟻伪位畏蟻蔚委,蠁伪谓蟿维味蔚蟿伪喂 魏伪喂 魏维谓蔚喂 伪蠀蟿慰蟽魏慰蟺蠈 蟿慰 伪蟻蟻蠅蟽蟿畏渭苇谓慰 蟿慰蠀 蟺维胃慰蟼. 韦伪 魏伪蟿伪蠁苇蟻谓蔚喂. 螆蠂蔚喂 蟿畏 螞慰位委蟿伪 未喂魏萎 蟿慰蠀. 螝蟿萎渭伪 蟿慰蠀. 螘蟻蠅渭苇谓畏 蟿慰蠀. 螖畏渭喂慰蠉蟻纬畏渭伪 蟿慰蠀. 螝伪蟿伪蟽蟿蟻慰蠁萎 蟿慰蠀.
"螞慰位委蟿伪, 蟺蔚胃伪委谓蠅, 蟿蔚位蔚喂蠋谓蠅. 螚 蔚谓慰蠂萎 魏伪喂 蟿慰 渭委蟽慰蟼 渭蔚 魏伪委蔚喂. 螝伪喂 尉伪谓维 蟿畏 纬蟻慰胃喂维 渭慰蠀 蟽慰蠀 蠀蠄蠋谓蠅 魏伪喂 尉伪谓维 畏 蠁蠅谓慰蠉位伪 蟽慰蠀 魏位伪委蔚喂......螞慰位委蟿伪, 蠁蠅蟼 蟿畏蟼 味蠅萎蟼 渭慰蠀, 蠁蠅蟿喂维 蟿蠅谓 位伪纬蠈谓蠅谓 渭慰蠀. 螁渭伪蟻蟿畏渭维 渭慰蠀 蔚蟽蠉, 蠄蠀蠂萎 渭慰蠀".
螕蟻慰胃喂维 蟽蟿慰 蟽蟿慰渭维蠂喂 畏 位慰纬慰蟿蔚蠂谓喂魏萎 未喂伪蟽蟿蟻慰蠁喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪 蟿慰蠀 螡伪渭蟺蠈魏慰蠁. 螠伪蟼 蟽蟿萎谓蔚喂 蟿畏 蠁维魏伪 蟺蔚蟻委蟿蔚蠂谓伪 魏伪喂 蟺苇蠁蟿慰蠀渭蔚 渭苇蟽伪,蠈位慰喂, 伪魏蠈渭伪 魏伪喂 慰喂 蟺喂慰 苇渭蟺蔚喂蟻慰喂 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿蔚蟼. 危委纬慰蠀蟻伪. 螠苇纬喂蟽蟿畏 蟺伪蟻蠅未委伪. 螝伪谓蔚委蟼 未蔚谓 尉蔚蠁蔚蠉纬蔚喂.
螘魏蔚委 蟺慰蠀 渭蟺伪委谓蔚喂蟼 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蟿畏谓 蟺蟻慰蟽蠅蟺喂魏萎 蟿蟻伪纬喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪 魏伪喂 伪蟺慰未苇蠂蔚蟽伪喂 渭蔚 伪蟺苇蠂胃蔚喂伪 蟿慰 伪蟻蟻蠅蟽蟿畏渭苇谓慰 蟺维胃慰蟼, 蔚魏蔚委 蟺慰蠀 位蠀蟺维蟽伪喂 蟿慰谓 "蟺慰喂畏蟿萎-伪蠁畏纬畏蟿萎-未蟻维蟽蟿畏" 蠈蟿伪谓 伪蟺慰位慰纬蔚委蟿伪喂 纬蟻伪蟺蟿蠋蟼 魏伪喂 蠁蠅谓维味蔚喂 蟿畏谓 伪喂蟿委伪 蟿畏蟼 未蠀蟽蟿蠀蠂委伪蟼 蟿慰蠀, 蔚尉慰渭慰位慰纬慰蠉渭蔚谓慰蟼 苇谓伪 蟺伪喂未喂魏蠈 蟿慰蠀 蟿蟻伪蠉渭伪 魏伪喂 胃蟻畏谓蔚委 魏伪喂 慰未蠉蟻蔚蟿伪喂,渭蔚蟿伪谓喂蠅渭苇谓慰蟼 蟺慰蠀 魏伪蟿维蟽蟿蟻蔚蠄蔚 渭喂伪 蟺伪喂未喂魏萎 蠄蠀蠂萎 位苇纬慰谓蟿伪蟼:
"螇渭慰蠀谓 苇谓伪 蟺蔚谓蟿维蟺慰未慰 蟿苇蟻伪蟼 伪位位维 蟽蔚 伪纬维蟺畏蟽伪.螇渭慰蠀谓 蟺慰蟿伪蟺蠈蟼 魏伪喂 伪蠂蟻蔚委慰蟼 魏伪喂 魏蟿畏谓蠋未畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟿伪 蟺维谓蟿伪". 螘魏蔚委,蟺维谓蠅 蟽蟿畏谓 蔚尉慰渭慰位蠈纬畏蟽畏 蔚喂谓伪喂 蟽蟿畏渭苇谓畏 畏 蟺伪纬委未伪.
螝伪喂 蠈蟿伪谓 渭苇蟽伪 伪蟺慰 蟿慰 畏胃喂魏蠈 位蔚尉喂位蠈纬喂慰 蟿慰蠀 伪蟻蟻蠋蟽蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 渭蔚蟿伪谓喂蠅渭苇谓慰蠀 纬蔚谓谓喂苇蟿伪喂 畏 未喂蟺位萎 蟿慰蠀 蟺蟻慰蟽蠅蟺喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪 蟽蟿慰 蟺蟻蠈蟽蠅蟺慰 蟿慰蠀 螝位苇蟻 螝委位蟿喂, 尾位苇蟺慰蠀渭蔚 维谓伪蠀未慰喂 苇谓伪谓 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻伪 纬蔚位慰委慰,蟺伪蟻维位慰纬慰,未喂蔚蟽蟿蟻伪渭渭苇谓慰 魏伪喂 纬魏蟻慰蟿苇蟽魏慰. 螕喂伪蟿委 蔚谓蟽伪蟻魏蠋谓蔚喂 蟿畏谓 伪位萎胃蔚喂伪 魏伪喂 渭喂伪 魏伪蟻喂魏伪蟿慰蠉蟻伪 蟿畏蟼. 螘委谓伪喂 畏 蔚谓慰蠂萎 蟿慰蠀 围维渭蟺蔚蟻蟿 魏伪喂 畏 蟺伪蟻蠅未委伪 蟿慰蠀 蠄蠀蠂喂魏慰蠉 未喂蟺慰位喂蟽渭慰蠉.
螝伪喂 苇蟻蠂蔚蟿伪喂 畏 维蟻谓畏蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 伪蟺慰未慰蠂萎蟼.
螝伪喂 尉伪谓维 蟽喂蠂伪委谓蔚蟿伪喂 蟿慰谓 蔚伪蠀蟿蠈 蟽慰蠀 蟺慰蠀 位委纬慰 魏蠈谓蟿蔚蠄蔚 谓伪 位蠀蟺畏胃蔚委蟼 伪蠀蟿蠈 蟿慰 魏蟿萎谓慰蟼. 螝伪喂 渭蔚蟿维 苇蟻蠂蔚蟿伪喂 蟿慰 苇纬魏位畏渭伪 魏伪喂 蟺维位喂 蟺伪位喂谓慰未蔚委蟼 纬喂伪蟿委 慰 伪谓萎胃喂魏慰蟼 蟽魏慰蟿蠋谓蔚喂 蟿慰谓 畏胃喂魏蠈 蠈渭蠅蟼 慰 伪谓萎胃喂魏慰蟼 伪纬维蟺畏蟽蔚 尾伪胃喂维 蟿畏 螞慰位委蟿伪.
螝伪喂 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂委味蔚喂蟼 渭苇蠂蟻喂 蟿苇位慰蠀蟼 谓伪 蟺蔚蟻喂蟽蟿蟻苇蠁蔚蟽伪喂 伪谓伪蟺慰未慰纬蠀蟻委味慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿喂蟼 蟽蠀渭尾维蟽蔚喂蟼 魏伪喂 蟿慰 未委魏喂慰 魏伪喂 蟿慰 畏胃喂魏蠈 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蟿慰谓 魏蠀魏蔚蠋谓伪 魏伪蟿伪蟽蟿维蟽蔚蠅谓 蟺慰蠀 蟽蔚 慰蟻委味蔚喂 胃蠉蟿畏 魏伪喂 胃蠉渭伪 慰 蟺伪谓慰蠉蟻纬慰蟼 蟽蠀纬纬蟻伪蠁苇伪蟼.
螘螢螒螜巍螘韦螜螝螣 螔螜螔螞螜螣.
螚 蠂蟻萎蟽畏 蟿慰蠀 位蔚尉喂位慰纬委慰蠀 伪渭喂位位维蟿伪喂 蟿慰 "蔚蟻蠅蟿喂魏蠈" 魏伪喂 未喂蔚蟽蟿蟻伪渭渭苇谓慰 蟺蔚蟻喂蔚蠂蠈渭蔚谓慰 蟿畏蟼 伪蠁萎纬畏蟽畏蟼.
螖喂伪尾维蟽蟿蔚 蟿慰.
螤伪蟻维 蟿慰 蠁伪喂谓慰渭蔚谓喂魏蠈 胃苇渭伪 蟺慰蠀 伪蠁慰蟺位委味蔚喂 魏伪喂 蟽伪蟽蟿委味蔚喂.
螒尉委味蔚喂 纬喂伪 蠈位蔚蟼 蟿喂蟼 蟺伪纬委未蔚蟼 魏伪喂 蟿喂蟼 渭蔚蟿伪渭慰蟻蠁蠋蟽蔚喂蟼. 螘委蟿蔚 蔚委蟽蟿蔚 蟽蟿畏 渭喂伪 蟺位蔚蠀蟻维 蟿畏蟼 位喂渭谓慰蠉位伪蟼 蟿慰蠀 螡伪渭蟺蠈魏慰蠁,纬蔚渭维蟿畏 魏伪胃维蟻喂慰,未喂维蠁伪谓慰 谓蔚蟻蠈 渭蔚 蟽蟺维谓喂伪 魏慰蠂蠉位喂伪 魏伪喂 位蔚委慰 蟺蠀胃渭苇谓伪,蔚委蟿蔚 蔚委蟽蟿蔚 伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 维位位畏 蟿畏 纬蔚渭维蟿畏 蟽蠉纬蠂蠀蟽畏,位维蟽蟺畏,渭蔚位维谓喂 魏伪喂 蟽慰蠀蟺喂苇蟼,
蟿伪 未喂伪胃位蠋渭蔚谓伪 谓蔚蟻维 蟿慰蠀 魏伪位慰蠉 魏伪喂 蟿慰蠀 魏伪魏慰蠉 蟽蠀纬蠂苇慰谓蟿伪喂 蟿蟻慰渭蔚蟻维.
"螇蟿伪谓 螞慰, 伪蟺位萎 螞慰 蟿慰 蟺蟻蠅喂谓蠈, 蟿苇蟽蟽蔚蟻伪 蟺蠈未喂伪 魏伪喂 未苇魏伪 委谓蟿蟽蔚蟼, 慰蟻胃萎 渭蔚 蟿慰 苇谓伪 蟿畏蟼 蟽慰蟽蠈谓喂. 螇蟿伪谓 螞蠈位伪 蠁慰蟻蠋谓蟿伪蟼 蟺伪谓蟿蔚位蠈谓喂伪. 螇蟿伪谓 螡蟿蠈位位蠀 蟽蟿慰 蟽蠂慰位蔚委慰, 螡蟿慰位蠈蟻蔚蟼 蟽蟿慰 位畏尉喂伪蟻蠂蔚委慰. 螌渭蠅蟼 蟽蟿畏 未喂魏萎 渭慰蠀 伪纬魏伪位喂维 萎蟿伪谓 蟺维谓蟿伪, 魏维胃蔚 蠁慰蟻维, 螞螣螞螜韦螒".
馃槇铀ワ笍馃槇
螝伪位萎 伪谓维纬谓蠅蟽畏!!
螤慰位位慰蠉蟼 伪蟽蟺伪蟽渭慰蠉蟼!
June 18, 2023
if i see one more "coquette" girlie romanticizing this book i'm going to burn everything to the ground
Displaying 1 - 30 of 45,710 reviews
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get help and learn more about the design.