Disclaimer: This review contains spoilers. I will discuss major events (as the reader may understand,
it would be hard not to include them). Read at your own risk.
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul.
Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.
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.”
About the novel
When one's asked what Lolita is about, one's mind first instinct is to rely on the say that Lolita is but a story of a middle-aged, frustrated college professor who feels sexual attraction towards his landlady's twelve-year-old child. I, dear reader, feel the duty to inform you that this is a despicable fallacy. Yes, it is rather true that the string of the book carries the story of a pedophile who throughout the novel tries his very best to convince the ladies and gentlemen of the jury that his only greatest sin was to fall madly, clumsily, agonizingly in love with twelve-years-old Lolita. But I would like to stress the fact that it is not just about it.
When looked into depths, Lolita is, by all means, the representation of Nabokov's, and I'll take it upon myself to suggest that it is a matter of own personal struggle to show us the two forms of aesthetic: the living and the lapidary one. You see, the way I see it, the whole concept of pedophilia was a means to an end (I say this, trusting of course, that the reader is looking at the big picture). For all I know, Nabovok could've written about anything else and still include that what tormented him. But it would be nonetheless, stupid to believe that it would've had the same wholesome effect.
In order for the reader to truly understand what I'm talking about, the reader must bear in mind the fact that illustrious Russian writer, Vladimir Nabokov was a noted lepidopterist, having discovered the passion at the age of seven. He would later write about butterflies, collect, and illustrate them. And even though there's only one single apparition of a butterfly in the novel, the main concept remains untouched: for Nabokov, the study of butterflies, as far as known, was beyond the study itself. It was the beauty of it that captivated him; the representation of life as an imitation of life.
Nabokov's aim in Lolita was to give life to his work of art, he wanted his novel to have a "life of its own" by "having claws and growing wings", and by making his characters immortal his novel would be immortal as well. But how must troubled Nabokov make this possible? How would Nabokov present a story for people to read and understand his need? By presenting us two characters unlike any other you've ever read.
And just as his creator, poor Humbert Humbert's daily battle was mortality. Especially when it comes to Lolita; for the reader knows, that by the very virtue of being alive one must face death. It is, as point in fact, the very possibility of decay that bewitches Humbert Humbert. Lolita represented to Humbert all the excruciating beauty life had to offer. He would constantly find himself in between the dagger and the wall because by not being able to control his lust (or matter-as-factly, unwilling to control himself) for her and wanting her to be his, we would be taking away that very innocence he so adored; and by trying to make her immortal, he would be depriving her of life. And this is where the two forms of aesthetic (the living and the lapidary) come into play.
In general terms, by inspecting the novel's ending where it is stated in doctor's John Ray Jr. Forward (which is Nabokov's suave impersonation) that one Mrs. Richard F. Schiller died in childbirth, giving birth to a stillborn girl, he is, of course—and the reader may soon understand why after reading the book—refering to Lolita. And I have taken upon the liberty to talk about the ending is such way, so as to stress the fact of what this particular ending means to the novel.
You see, for Nabokov, Dolly's Schiller stillborn represented the book itself (a book which its writer has bestowed a life of its own, as great works of art claim for the title) but if nobody reads it, what's the whole point in it? Nabokov says in his essay Good Readers and Good Writers, that it is meaningless for the author to have created such a jewel of a book if by the end the writer cannot meet his reader on the top of the Mountain of Imagination. So to put all things together: if the book has life it also has the ability to die.
Dolly, on the other hand, represents human creativity and it is, as far as this novel goes, a failure, for it indicates that art can in no way compete with nature and that which has naturally been giving life to. So as much as it pains us all, Nabokov cannot give the life he so desired his novel to have. He will try, but the probabilities remain that it is more likely for his novel to be like the aquamarine silver chainlet—a spring rain gift—Humbert has given to Lolita.
Following the same string of thought, we can actually see Humbert Humbert's efforts to immortalize things on art's behalf: such as the aquamarine chainlet and Lolita herself (just to point out a pair of examples, for there are much more like those so-called cancelled children that appear throughout the novel), and as he so clearly says to Lolita is his madman journal:
“And do not pity C.Q. One had to choose between him and H.H., and one wanted H.H. to exist at least a couple of months longer,
so as to have him make you live in the minds of later generations. I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments,
prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.”
The writing style
That being said and hopefully understood, I now wish to tackle down the prose that has been praised more than any other one before. One ought to think that because one's reading the storyline of a pedophile, a murderer, a rapist, a horrible example of moral leprosy, one would despise him, maybe even curse him and everything that has to do with him and throw the book that carries his story aside. But the fact remains that the reader does not—in fact, wishes not—to put the book down. Not even for a second. I understand that it might be difficult for not-yet-readers of Lolita to understand how is it even remotely possible for readers to fall and care for poor Humbert Humbert but to that extent, I'm here to say that it all has to do with Nabokov's exquisite prose. Yes!, it is true that this is exactly Humbert's secret weapon to enchant and manipulate us all. The person who has read this book knows exactly what I'm talking about. Reader, judge us not! For one's weak and finds it really hard not to be enchanted by it. I dare you to navigate the marvelous selection of words in Lolita's and not to fall crazy, shamelessly in love. The reader shall never find another delicious prose like Nabokov's in their lives. You can take my word for granted, for all that's worth.
In British novelist Martin Amiss's 1992 essay, he compares Lolita's prose style with a muscle-bound man, a man whose body is bulked up purely for aesthetic reasons, for the only purpose of looking a certain way. That bodybuilder is not a person who is going to do some job, it is simply there to be looked at and displayed. My recommendation? Keep this within the confines of your mind while reading Lolita, it is rather good to have an anchor to hold on to.
Characters matters
It has now come the time to discuss Humbert Humbert: my all-time favorite character, the character among characters. It is, with great sadness, I presume, that one does not encounter such a complex and very well-detailed character like Humbert very often. Yes!, he is abnormal and horrible, a disgusting human being. I do not, and will not deny it, but unlike many others I've read, he does not sin of being a conventional and banal character. Humbert stands for artistic originality in all its glorious form. And for it, I praise him. He was a well-read, well-educated, fair-traveled, amusing, funny in a type of sad way character. He was extremely smart, and you could tell by the way he mocked doctors, psychologist, and psychiatrists. But what really lead you into knowing this quality of his was the fact that mid-way through the story you found yourself immerse in him, hoping not, but willing to believe every word he said. And this here, my dear fellow, it's a delicate matter, for the reader must bear the knowledge that Humbert Humbert is not—for our very dismay—a reliable character. And he is certainly not a gentleman.
“[…] 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.[…] You may jeer at me, and threaten to clear the court, but until I am gagged and halfthrottled, I will shout my poor truth. I insist the world know how much I loved my Lolita, this Lolita, pale and polluted, and big with another’s child, but still gray-eyed, still sooty-lashed, still auburn and almond, still Carmencita, still mine; Changeons de vie, ma Carmen, allons vivre quelque, part o nous ne serons jamais spars; Ohio? The wilds of Massachusetts? No matter, even if those eyes of hers would fade to myopic fish, and her nipples swell and crack, and her lovely young velvety delicate delta be tainted and torn even then I would go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of your dear wan face, at the mere sound of your raucous young voice, my Lolita.”
As for Lolita, it saddens me to admit that during the first part of the book I did not like her at all. I thought her to be the most uneducated, ill-mannered, self-absorbed character ever. Yes, she was a child, but the reader must forgive me for I do not recall myself behaving the way she did. However, this doesn't mean I didn't pity her. I did. The Lord knows I did. I was surprisingly afraid, worried and on the tears for her. However reckless and bad child she was, she did not deserve the life she got. The reader must found uncanny the fact that I was even more preoccupied for her well-being in the second part of the book; especially when she showed she was no longer afraid of dear old daddy Humbert.
Something that will definitely allure the readers is the character development presented. Both Humbert and Lolita seem like two complete strangers from their characters beginning. The situation they've been put into, fulfill their duty to change them forever. And not for good, I must add. You have not read a character development like this before. I'm sure of that.
Thoughts and Opinions
Likewise, what occurred to Humbert with Lolita, occurred to me with this novel: “It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight.” Throughout the course of my young life, I've met people who deny themselves the very pleasure of reading a book like Lolita based on the fact that's a classic. I wish not to argue about tastes, for we all have different ones, but I will say this: if you continue that path, you will be on a very populated, sad, and long road, my friend. Don't let the genre frighten you. So please, I'm begging you: read this book. It is one of a kind. Lolita is, without a doubt the one and only true masterpiece I've read so far in my very mortal human life. You read Lolita sprawling limply on your chair, aghast, marveled, astonished. Completely and utterly wordless.
Rating: 5/5