A trip of three on the teeth: Lo. Lee. Ta.
Apr 9th, 2008 by B.
I’m not really sure why it’s taken me so long to read Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. Perhaps the subject matter? I’m sure it didn’t help. Also I had a particularly obnoxious professor who felt it her duty to remind us weekly that Nabokov was the best thing since sliced bread. I couldn’t stand her and, I guess, by osmosis, I couldn’t stand poor, unsuspecting Lolita either. What a shame. It wasn’t until a few months ago, sitting in a restaurant in Vienna talking books with Pat from Euro Like Me, that I finally decided to take the plunge. He’d read Reading “Lolita” in Tehran and, never having read Nabakov’s novel either, couldn’t understand the lure of the original…
So here are the nuts & bolts: (taken from Library Journal) Nabokov’s classic story about a middle-aged, expatriate European man’s obsessive love for a 12-year-old girl is a beautifully produced novel that pushes the boundaries of the medium. While Lolita continues to raise the hackles of would-be censors even today, most readers will marvel at the restraint and playful humor with which Nabokov limns his tale. This doesn’t begin to cover it…
Some parts are incredibly uncomfortable to read: (on his preference of ‘nymphets’ between the ages of 9 & 14) The bud-stage of breast development appears early (10.7 years) in the sequence of somatic changes accompanying pubescence. And the next maturational item available is the first appearance of pigmented pubic hair (11.2 years). My little cup brims with tiddles.
Some are tragically sad: At the hotel we had separate rooms, but in the middle of the night she came sobbing into mine, and we made it up very gently. You see, she had absolutely nowhere else to go.
Some highlight the aberration… the complete fucked-uppedness… of the pedophilic mind: I must confess that depending on the condition of my glands and ganglia, I could switch in the course of the same day from one poll of insanity to the other - from the thought that around 1950 I would have to get rid somehow of a difficult adolescent whose magic nymphage had evaporated - to the thought that with patience and luck I might have her produce eventually a nymphet with my blood in her exquisite veins, a Lolita the Second, who would be eight or nine around 1960, when I would still be dans la force de lage; indeed, the telescopy of my mind, or un-mind, was strong enough to distinguish in the remoteness of time a vieillard encore vert - or was it green rot? - bizarre, tender, salivating Dr. Humbert, practicing on supremely lovely Lolita the Third the art of being a granddad.
Others are poetic as all get-out: 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. ~ On playgrounds and beaches, my sullen and stealthy eye, against my will, still sought out the flash of a nymphet’s limbs, the sly tokens of Lolita’s handmaids and rosegirls.
But it’s this passage that, for me, sums up the whole of Lolita so well: I loved you. I was a pentapod monster, but I loved you. I was despicable and brutal, and turpid, and everything, mais je t’aimais, je t’aimais! 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. I recall certain moments, let us call them icebergs in paradise, when after having had my fill of her - after fabulous, insane exertions that left me limp and azure-barred - I would gather her in my arms with, at last, a mute moan of human tenderness. And 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 tenderness (with my soul actually hanging around her naked body and ready to repent), all at once, ironically, horribly, lust would swell again - and “oh, no,” Lolita would say with a sigh to heaven, and the next moment the tenderness and the azure - all would be shattered.
The second I finished Lolita I started right back at the beginning. I was excited… really excited (ok, maybe excited is a poorly chosen word in this case) about what I’d just read, still, I didn’t want to hastily declare it one of my favorite novels. So I went back… read it again… re-read my notes and highlighted text, and added even more notes and highlights.
I started driving Jim crazy by stalking him through the flat reading excerpts that made him cringe and wonder how on earth I could insist this was one of the best books ever written. He’d finally had enough when I pulled back his curtain mid-shower and read: ‘And I also knew that the child, my child, knew he was looking, enjoyed the lechery of his look and was putting on a show of gambol and glee, the vile and beloved slut‘. “That’s it,” he said, “Can’t you find somebody else to talk to about this? I mean, surely there’s a support group? Message board? Therapist? Something?”
Thus began my fascination with what others thought of Lolita. And here’s where it all gets a little disjointed. But I want to fit in some of my thoughts… and, hey, it’s my blog…
- It seems to be predominately women who love Lolita. I’m thinking this is half because women, by nature, are more likely to romanticize the situation and overlook the pedophiliac angle… and because I imagine very few men are comfortable in any way identifying with the subject matter.
- I agree 100% that Humbert loved Lolita, but I balk at some of the reviews claiming this to be the best love story ever written. Unrequited love? Sure. But reciprocal, healthy and mutual love… what are these people smoking??
- I find it fascinating that a small but vocal faction of women who loved the book feel the need to vilify Lolita (Dolly… Delores… Carmencita) for her cruelty to Humbert. It’s almost as if - in order to love & approve of Humbert, Lolita must be the persecutor and not the victim. No consideration is given to the possibility that Lolita’s circumstances formed her as a person.
- Nabokov is an extremely gifted writer. His long, complicated sentences unfold like exotic hothouse flowers. And kudos to him for taking no prisoners in the telling of a difficult tale. I mean, it took balls to write a story like this. He had to anticipate the backlash. Still, he didn’t shy away or give his readers an easy out - a good reason to forgive Humbert. Yet they still did/do. That alone I admire beyond belief.
So Pat, without a doubt, one of the best books I’ve ever read. It’s warm and funny and scary and confusing and (at times) an outright assault on everything polite society brought you up to expect…
I haven’t read your blog for very long, but I am pretty certain that you don’t have children. Please correct me if I am wrong, but I think that loving Lolita almost ensures that you dn’t have children: the story of a pedarest who talks about kidnapping and raping children, with the blondes lasting longer than the brunettes, about breeding his own rape objects and committing incest as well as pederasty, about how his victim actually enjoys it: Nabakov may write well, but the book is disgusting and horrifying. It’s a view into a world of perversion not so different from the sty of American Psycho. I read this book in my teens, more than 25 years ago, and I still have not forgotten the wanking off porn aspects of it, nor forgiven the lit dept at Cornell for loving it (because Nabakov was an alum).
Think again about whether this is a superb book: hasn’t the beauty of the phrases hidden the perversity of the words from you?
Sorry- (tried to say but lost in posting), I didn’t mean to be so harsh. It’s simply that once you have kids you realize that the world is full of pederasts: school teachers, guidance counsellors, Scout leaders, coaches, pastors, babysitters of 3 year olds: all of these have been arrested for molestation in my little town in the last few years. So anything that normalizes this depravity is frightening and wrong, in my opinion, no matter how beautifully it may be written. Reading it makes it approachable. I think this should only be read in the context of abnormal psych.
B. - I loved it too. It’s been over ten years since I read it so the details are fuzzy, but I wouldn’t hesitate to read it again. I’m sure the tales of pedophilia and incest would be even more bizarre to me now that I’m a parent, but as a lover of story and language, I devoured every bit of it. I was absolutely shocked to find that it was funny, too. (And don’t buy Lolita in Tehran - I’ve got a copy that I’d happily give you. Also, can’t wait to see your reply to G.)
G. - For me, the magic of the story is that Nabokov writes Humbert Humbert as a sympathetic monster. He’s not a hero, but the story is told from his point of view, so we see what’s going on his head. The story would be much more disturbing if it weren’t clear throughout that Humbert’s actions are bad. I think it’s one of the few books I’ve read that gets into the head of pedophile, and instead of making him an unrealistic Bad Guy (which is dangerous, I think, because that creates the impression that people in real life who are Good can’t be pedophiles), he’s a multi-faceted person who you can easily imagine living next door. Super-creepy, yes, but real too. Though I can respect your (and many others’) inability to get past the pedophilia topic. There are certain things I can’t enjoy reading about, no matter how well they’re written, but (how weird am I?) pedophilia apparently isn’t one of them.
The movie (with Jeremy Irons?) left the impression that the girl enjoyed the attention and led him on - or did I see a different movie? Thanks anyway for reminding me of a great book I still haven’t read, but should.
ian in hamburg’s last blog post..Actually, I’m not slacking off
It’s one of my favorite books as well. Yes, the subject matter is disturbing, but the writing is beautiful. I agree with Blythe that it’s interesting to see the story from Humbert’s point of view and that it’s dangerous to portray pedophiles as purely evil people. I also agree with all your points, B., esp. that this relationship is one-sided and made Lolita who she became. And to G., I’m also a parent.
I’ve tried several times to read other books by Nabakov, but they haven’t caught me the same way and I’ve put them down after a few chapters. Is that effed up or what?
ChristinaG’s last blog post..Regensburg Expat Brunch - April 27th
G- No worries, I like people who speak their mind! I actually have 2 daughters: 7 & 15. And I can certainly see your point, in fact I deliberately quoted some of the tougher passages so as not to go light on Lolita. That said, I honestly didn’t feel like Nabokov glorified or sensationalized the subject. He just told a story and told it extremely well. I can appreciate it the same way I appreciate ultra-violent films or novels like A Clockwork Orange: they’re all stories that remind us of the fine line between humanity and brutality.
The sexual aspect of Lolita is 100% repugnant, no denying that. And if Nabokov had soft-peddled that part one iota, I’d be pulling up a soapbox decrying the whole thing. Instead what he did was enable the reader to imagine… really imagine… what must go on in the head of a pedophile. He also shows us how these monsters can be (and often are) the school teachers, guidance counselors, Scout leaders, coaches, pastors and babysitters of 3 year olds that you mentioned. They’re not all scary, toothless guys in trenchcoats offering candy to babies in parks. If nothing else, Nabokov shows us this with gusto.
Is it ugly, vulgar at times, and uncomfortable? You bet, and it should be. I’d question it if it were any other way. But it’s also beautifully written and something that will stick with you long after you’ve finished the final page. And that’s ok, too. It’s possible (though extremely rare) to have both coexist in a kind of uncomfortable harmony… and, credit where it’s due, Nabokov, I felt, walked that line better than just about anything else I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading.
Blythe- I’ll take you up on the loan of Reading Lolita in Tehran… I’m in no hurry though, I figured I’d put some distance between the actual article and any contenders to the throne.
Ian- I barely remember the movie. There’s certainly an aspect of that in the book, but Nabokov goes to great lengths to talk about how Dolly (Lolita) cries herself to sleep each night and believes Humbert destroyed her life: (Lolita speaking of the man she eventually runs off with to escape Humbert) “He broke my heart. You merely broke my life”
If you ever get around to reading it be sure to let me know what you think - I’d be interested in hearing a review from a male perspective.
Christina- I wondered about other Nabokov books… something tells me Lolita can’t be topped, so I figured I’d steer clear of other works.
I think the fear of this book is that that the great writing will (incorrectly) give legitmacy to Humbert’s actions. Right or wrong, there are people who will twist the story to romanticize abuse. That is the danger of using talented writing to describe a pedophile’s thoughts.
This is still true today - people who want to legitimize their actions will use groups and so called “experts” to advance their position that sexual abuse of a child is not harmful to the child. Most of society would find this to be ludicrous, but there are those who will manipulate the talent and knowledge of others to defend their behavior. While I, like many wives, may wish to throttle my husband on occassion, to act on my thoughts would be hurtful, wrong, and illegal. While certain people may be sexually stimulated by the thoughts of children, to act on the thoughts is hurtful, wrong, and illegal. No writing, expert, study, or group should be used to defend the actions of pedophiles. Explain their thoughts - fine; just don’t attempt to legitimize the behavior.
The benefit of the book is that it does remind people that pedophiles are your friends, neighbors, ministers, coaches, teacher, doctors, lawyers, farmers, etc. It is the crime that I found as a prosecutor, crossed all racial, gender, ethnic, and economic lines. And often the family of the pedophile was unable to believe the crime occurred, even in light of DNA and confessions.
Hexe’s last blog post..Cultural Highlight
i just want to point out something…
the 1997 movie (with jeremy irons) was a stupid, stupid movie… the 1962 kubrick film is an underrated piece of great cinema.
jeanni’s last blog post..greatest vocal scream ever?
I love this book so much that I’ve read and seen everything that has to do with the novel. I own copies of both Reading Lolita…and Lolita. I don’t think that the book goes easy on Humbert. It in fact damns him. The writing is so beautiful that it really makes Humbert a sympathetic monster. I don’t condone what he does, but really, isn’t there a hidden monster in each of us? Are we less human because we are capable of inhuman acts? Humbert is not any less human because he is a monster.
I agree that more women like Lolita, and I second that the Kubrick film is funnier. Darker, even.
Cathy’s last blog post..Experiencing Technical Difficulties
This is a horrible admission for a Kubrick fan… but I’ve never seen his version of Lolita.
i would probably say it is my favorite of his films even. i really love the black and white cinematography… it’s gorgeously filmed.
jeanni’s last blog post..greatest vocal scream ever?
You know, I’m basically commenting out of ignorance, as I have not read the book - by choice - but the whole pedophilia thing is something that I don’t want to deal with in books or film. I really think it has to with me being the mother of daughters, so I was very interested to read your take on this, as I know you’ve got daughters as well. It’s weird, because on most other things, I’m very open to different points of view, even extreme ones, but this is one area where I find myself agreeing with the first commenter’s comment. It’s like my brain puts up a wall against this stuff. Even reading the excerpts … [shudder].
more cowbells last blog post..Tennessee Principal Outs Gay Students