Lolita, Lolita, Lolita

I said before how difficult it would be to describe the brilliance of this novel in words, or at least the ones that belong to my vocabulary. So here goes...

Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita

Due to the sensitive plotline, I am going to spend no time on a summary. I might turn you off, and I couldn't have that on my conscience, now could I? Having said this, I realize that there are some reading this who are repulsed by even the idea of Lolita, and to these people I offer you the words of Oscar Wilde:

"There is no such thing as a moral or immoral book.
Books are well written, or badly written.
That is all."

And Lolita is well written.

While it is provocative, never was this gorgeous novel obscene, uncomfortable or vulgar. It truly is a superb piece of literature. There are two things that amaze me about this novel:

1. It is the perfect mixture of "Justice. He had it coming..." and "Why, in the name of all that is poetic, WHY DID IT HAVE TO END THIS WAY!!!!!!" Lolita is one of those novels that ends before it begins. The first page tells you that both Humbert and Lolita die, and the journey is discovering why you should care that a man dies in prison and a girl dies in childbirth. By the end, you are not human if you do not care. I have a rule when it comes to literature: Judge a book by its last page. Lolita ends with a crescendo that makes me ache. The kind of ache that feels right, like you could fight and fight but deep down you know it had to be this way.

2. For a novel that was first published in 1955, Nabokov's voice never shows its age. Let me put it this way, just because you can find Lolita in an antique store does not mean it is stuffy. Perhaps what makes the novel so modern is that Humbert, the narrator, knows we are reading what he has written. Without trying to be eloquent, he is profound. Without trying to make us laugh, his wit is insatiable. Without apologizing, we forgive him.

"Lolita, Lolita, Lolita, Repeat till the page is full"

If you want to do something for yourself this summer, I suggest reading Lolita. Indulge yourself; create a private memory, a secret feeling, an atmosphere of art. Let this man and girl whisper, speak, plead and scream to you.

My only complaint? Lolita. I would like to understand more of what makes her do what she does. Maybe it is there, maybe I was just so engrossed in Humbert's downward spiraling obsession with her that I did not notice or was not looking for it.

Note to self: Read Lolita again. Find her.

Sue Lyon as 'Lolita'

"For me a work of fiction exists only insofar as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art

(curiosity, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm.

There are not many such books."

- Vladimir Nabokov