So here’s some of what happens: Humbert, who is at a personal loss after having his first love die years earlier, ends up renting from a woman who happens to have this really attractive child daughter, Dolores (Lolita). Dolores’ mother is annoying yet Humbert marries her anyway so he can be close to her daughter. His infatuation with Lolita begins immediately, and so he keeps a diary recording all the lust he feels for her until Charlotte (Dolores’ mother) finds it. Eventually, Charlotte dies and Humbert goes to retrieve Lolita, telling her that her mother is alive but ill. They go on a cross-country trip, fornicate, etc., till the young girl learns he lied to her about her mother. She in turn resents him, but has nowhere to go, and ultimately has to depend on him. Eventually, through some turn of events, Lolita ends up married and pregnant by another man at the age of 17 (and without a doubt, much less attractive in Humbert’s eyes).
Of course, while all these events are taking place, Humbert is contemplating Lolita’s beauty and how she will lose it once she is no longer a nymphet. His thoughts towards her are no doubt repulsive, yet Nabokov does an excellent job normalizing it all. After a while, readers become used to Humbert’s childish fantasies, since Humbert spends such a great deal of time rationalizing it. In Humbert’s world, it all makes sense.
Perhaps one of the most interesting aspects to the story are the multiple names Lolita has, thereby illuminating the point that she is viewed as a different person by different people. She is Lolita to Humbert, Lo to her mother, her friends call her Dolly at school, and when she marries she takes on her birth name: Dolores.
- 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.
The only flaw I can offer is that the narrative does tend to plod on a bit towards the end, and such is what makes Lolita a very good book rather than a great one. Also, my mention that Humbert is really nothing more than a dirty, pathetic old man — albeit more insightful than average — makes for shortcomings that limit the deeper resonance his character can have. Though that’s not to say there aren’t moments of greater depth. Here’s a good moment that shows off his insight:
- There are two kinds of visual memory: one when you skillfully recreate an image in the laboratory of your mind, with your eyes open ... and the other when you instantly evoke, with shut eyes, on the dark innerside of your eyelids, the objective, absolutely optical replica of a beloved face, a little ghost in natural colors (and this is how I see Lolita).
Article comments
— go to most recent comments1 - Joe A
I would disagree with much if not most of this review. Certainly what drives Humbert's lust at one level is shallow, but Humbert, like most men, never realizes this about himself. And Lolita was a lot more than a mere "tool" or a device for Nabokov's purple plush. She was a young woman who, behind the back of Humbert's prose, turned out to be her own person, with her own dreams and desires, tough and extraordinarily resilient under the circumstances, especially the tragic one not mentioned in the review; Lolita's witty, heartbreaking, and absolutely one of my favorite all time characters. The first line may be a barfalicious cliche to this critic, but it represents a complex stylistic narrative strategy for N.--the book walks a remarkable line between a kind of sincere passionate romance and a freaked out, hopped up satirical parody of it. Numerous readers in the past, unlike this critic, have found Humbert criminal, certainly, but extremely amusing and charismatic as well, not least of which because of the smart and ruthless way he funs the shallowness of American culture, its manner of canning all truth and genuine value into commercials, musicals, and good personal hygiene--in fact this critic seems not to have noticed any of the book's savage black humor, the way it toys with a reader's expectations and says and does what most writers simply refuse to let themselves say. One of the great surprises of the book is that Humbert's perversion turns out to connect with readers on so many levels that I couldn't even begin to count them here, and which makes him a thousand times more real than the thin creatures of most books, certainly any of the turgid melodramatic flaccidly written ones in Sister Carrie! The idea of trying to flog Nabokov's great novel with that brick of mediocrity is simply absurd.
2 - JSchneider
"Certainly what drives Humbert's lust at one level is shallow, but Humbert, like most men, never realizes this about himself."
Joe, all lust on all levels is shallow. That's why it is called lust and not love.
"And Lolita was a lot more than a mere "tool" or a device for Nabokov's purple plush. She was a young woman who, behind the back of Humbert's prose, turned out to be her own person, with her own dreams and desires, tough and extraordinarily resilient under the circumstances, especially the tragic one not mentioned in the review;"
I never claimed the prose to be "purple plush"--you did. Also, the point is that all of Lolita's "dreams" are only told through Humbert's eyes. This is about Humbert, not Lolita. She is not a that well developed a character, though that's not my criticism. The flaw lies within Humbert's lack of complexity. Try reading the Bridge Books and you'll see what I mean.
"The first line may be a barfalicious cliche to this critic, but it represents a complex stylistic narrative strategy for N.--the book walks a remarkable line between a kind of sincere passionate romance and a freaked out, hopped up satirical parody of it."
It's amazing what one will do to defend a bad line. Joe, it's not a matter of being a cliche to me, the line is bad and has 2 cliches period. I don't care who writes it. A cliche is a cliche and you're defending the author's intent because you like the book. Fair enough to like it, but a cliche is still a cliche.
"Lolita's witty, heartbreaking, and absolutely one of my favorite all time characters. "
So what? She's still a petulant brat. Again, you like her, but should I or anyone care that you like her?
And I never said that I didn't find Humbert charismatic.
"One of the great surprises of the book is that Humbert's perversion turns out to connect with readers on so many levels that I couldn't even begin to count them here, and which makes him a thousand times more real than the thin creatures of most books,"
And here's what I said: "His thoughts towards her are no doubt repulsive, yet Nabokov does an excellent job normalizing it all. After a while, readers become used to Humbert’s childish fantasies, since Humbert spends such a great deal of time rationalizing it. In Humbert’s world, it all makes sense."
Show me where I disagree with you on this point.
"certainly any of the turgid melodramatic flaccidly written ones in Sister Carrie! "
And here's what I said:
"we are not given multiple viewing angles the way Dreiser does in Sister Carrie (a book also about shallow characters, yet the narrative steps away from this)."
My point is that the book fails to be great because Humbert is simply not that interesting nor complex a character, and while Sister Carrie is shallow in the Dreiser novel, we are given a narrative that removes itself from it by Dreiser switching the story and making it about Hurstwood and the values he learns instead. He grows but by then it is too late. That you would call Sister Carrie a mediocrity is absurd in itself, because nowhere in Sister Carrie are there such bad lines as that of the one that opens this book. If you actually read my review, you'd see that I am not claiming Lolita to be in any way a bad book (though the story line, I am sorry to inform you, is trite, albeit better written) I'm just saying it's not the masterpiece that its reputation claims it to be. And by your arguments, it still isn't.
3 - Andrew B.
The aesthetics of the prose suffices to make it a masterpiece.
4 - Lisa Solod Warren
Oh, dear. Nabokov wrote the damned cliche. He made it. Lolita remains one of the most amazing books written. The prose, indeed, makes it a masterpiece.
5 - Rodney Welch
Jessica, you missed the boat.
This fact becomes obvious as soon as you say that Humbert lacks complexity. Oh, he's complex alright; you just have to open your eyes, read between the lines, re-read and re-think. It's dangerous business saying Nabokov isn't complex about, oh, anything, because he out-thinks you in ways you've never thought of, and his books always seem so much more simple than they really are.
First, you have the opening lines wrong. Please, please, please tell me you read the introduction by the so-called John Ray, Ph.D., in which Nabokov very subtly tells us that our heroine will wind up dead?
As to the book proper, so to speak -- how can the opening sentence be cliched when no one has ever said it before? Sure, somewhere alone the line someone wrote "light of my life" and I guess someone said "fire of my loins" (any idea who?) but this line put light and fire, spirit and flesh, together, then echoed it with the next sentence: "My sin, my soul." And then the rest, a marvelous depiction of sound: "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."
Lush and ornate, yes, but cliched? No, sorry -- Nabokov's protagonists may be evil, insensitive and stupid, but they always have a compelling writing style.
One paragraph and you have Humbert commenting on both the dual nature of his own obsession -- that he lusts for her beauty and her life -- as well as revealing it: even the pronunciation of her name does not escape his meticulous notice.
It's one of the great opening paragraphs in literary history and one of the greatest novels of the 20th Century: a book so intricate that, like Lolita itself, it becomes a matter of obsession with one reader after another.
"Lolita" is one of those books which, the more you read it, only seems to get stranger and more complex. For me, personally, I've often found myself wondering just on which stage of reality the book exists: is there really a Humbert, really a Lolita? From the beginning, we learn that Humbert is an assumed name, and the chronicle he spins has all the earmarks of an unreliable narrator -- such as the inclusion of a reconstructed diary that has long since been literally flushed away -- but there's something else going on, too, which is that he seems to be caught in a web, that he's at the mercy of a cruel authorial god who seems to be making him jump through hoops and occasionally leaves his signature inside the book (Vivian Darkbloom, a.k.a. Vladimir Nabokov.)
I find myself wondering, repeatedly, what the "real" story behind the story is: is Humbert actually also Quilty? ("He looks like you, Dad," as Lo says at one point.) Is there an Ur-story -- about a man who killed the thing he loved -- merely dressed it up in novel form?
Nabokov's stories and novels are often about people who aren't aware of why they do what they do, of how their lives seem controlled, predestined, moved by forces beyond their control, like the professor in "The Vane Sisters" who discovers his very story has been infected by ghosts, or Charles Kinbote, in "Pale Fire," whose own insane commentary may actually be the result of huge posthumous joke by his famous poet friend.
You may not like this book well enough to pursue it further, but if you do, consider Alfred Appel's "The Annotated Lolita," which maps out all of Nabokov's jokes, puns, obscure references, and structural linkages.
It's one of the most complex novels ever.
P.S. I visited your blog and am happy to report that you are not the befuddled dunderhead that this silly and shallow review suggests.
6 - JSchneider
"he out-thinks you in ways you've never thought of,"
Ha, I seriously doubt this.
"First, you have the opening lines wrong. Please, please, please tell me you read the introduction by the so-called John Ray, Ph.D., in which Nabokov very subtly tells us that our heroine will wind up dead?"
I quoted the lines as they appear in my edition, and didn't rely on the critical cribbing from some academic. And they are both cliches. The reason they are cliches is because they have been overused throughout the centuries. If you can't recognize this you need to read more. You have better arguments for the book than the others have but your 'silly and shallow' claim here undercuts that you're not a dunderhead yourself:
"Sure, somewhere alone the line someone wrote "light of my life" and I guess someone said "fire of my loins" (any idea who?) but this line put light and fire, spirit and flesh, together, then echoed it with the next sentence: "My sin, my soul."
I count on readers being smart enough to recognize that "Light of my life fire of my loins" are melodramatic cliches. Your reasons for justifying them are merely a defense of the author's intent. What matters is what is on the page and the opening is atrocious. The line, however, about the pronouncing of her name is good--and he should have opened with that.
"It's one of the great opening paragraphs in literary history"
No it does not. See reason above.
It is true that Humbert is an unreliable narrator, but perhaps I've been spoiled by great writing. The Remains of the Day is a better book than this. The Bridge Books are both better books than this. If you want lush prose, try Loren Eiseley or Thomas Wolfe. Lolita is not as complex as anything I've read from Chekhov.
"that he's at the mercy of a cruel authorial god who seems to be making him jump through hoops and occasionally leaves his signature inside the book (Vivian Darkbloom, a.k.a. Vladimir Nabokov.)"
This sounds like critical cribbing (speaking of cliches) and the old flaw of relying on author's biography for meaning in an artistic work.
""The Annotated Lolita," which maps out all of Nabokov's jokes, puns, obscure references, and structural linkages."
Again, so what about obscure references? None of this will make the work any better.
"It's one of the most complex novels ever."
With one of the tritest story lines ever.
"I visited your blog and am happy to report that you are not the befuddled dunderhead that this silly and shallow review suggests."
That at least shows that not all of your mind has been rotted by academia.
7 - Rodney Welch
"Ha, I seriously doubt this," you say, and immediately go on to prove the opposite by saying: "I quoted the lines as they appear in my edition, and didn't rely on the critical cribbing from some academic."
This indicates to me you are completely unaware that the book has a famously false introduction by a fake individual named John Ray, Ph.D., whom you have apparently mistaken as "some academic." So ... you've basically just skipped the first "real" chapter, right?
Nabokov always outs the superficial readers in his audience -- the ones who don't know the difference between a cliche and a cliche turned on its head, or between lushness and adolescent whimpering, or who are deeply suspicious of something called "academic cribbing" when faced with what they don't understand, or who fail to see that not only are Nabokov's labyrinth of cross-references a matter of great intellectual fun, but yield additional layers of interpretation, or that a fine stylist like Ishiguro is simply not quite the same league as a genius like Nabokov. Indeed, Ishiguro -- who no longer thinks that highly of "Remains of the Day" -- would, I suspect, be horribly embarrassed by your comment. Flattered, but embarrassed.
In short, you are not a good reader of Nabokov, and no one who has read Nabokov, or who will, has anything to learn from you.
8 - JSchneider
Rodney, you sound like an obsessed fan. Artifice or not, the notation of "Ph.D" indicates academic. Again, intention means nothing. The book begins with Part One followed by chapter 1. Even if you can argue your point about the intro crap, that doesn't change the fact that "Light of my life, fire of my loins" is a cliche that you defend. You are not a good reader. Period.
"the ones who don't know the difference between a cliche and a cliche turned on its head,"
That was not a cliche turned on its head. You wouldn't even know one if you saw it. Try reading "Sonnet for a Writer" by James Emanuel for an example of that.
"or who are deeply suspicious of something called "academic cribbing" when faced with what they don't understand,"
You were the one bringing up obscure references and non-relevant topics like this: "that he's at the mercy of a cruel authorial god who seems to be making him jump through hoops and occasionally leaves his signature inside the book (Vivian Darkbloom, a.k.a. Vladimir Nabokov.)"
This means nothing when dealing with the work itself.
Your obsession is made even more clear here:
"or that a fine stylist like Ishiguro is simply not quite the same league as a genius like Nabokov"
The fact that you throw around words like 'genius' shows you don't understand a thing about creativity. It's about greatness, not genius.
"Indeed, Ishiguro -- who no longer thinks that highly of "Remains of the Day"
Even if this were true, so what. He'd be wrong to dismiss it. That, an Artist of the Floating World are his 2 best works, if he can't see that, that's his problem. Many a great writers were not known for understanding their own stuff or being good critics themselves. Bergman is known for dismissing Orson Welles. So what? He's wrong. A great artist, but bad critic.
"In short, you are not a good reader of Nabokov, and no one who has read Nabokov, or who will, has anything to learn from you."
And no one will learn a thing listening to your own babble about 'genius' and 'masterpiece' and obscure references and dismissing the 'real' readers with brains who question things and don't rely on intent from the obsessed sycophants like yourself.
9 - Rodney Welch
*"intention means nothing"
*"the intro crap"
*"non-relevant topics like this: "that he's at the mercy of a cruel authorial god who seems to be making him jump through hoops and occasionally leaves his signature inside the book"...This means nothing.
I'm afraid this discussion has met its end, as I am faced with a child who insistently genuflects before the priesthood of her own limited judgement, and has drifted too far in the delusion of being a "'real' reader with brains" to hear my shouts from the shore.
I can argue Nabokov, but there's no arguing with a Nabokov character.
10 - JSchneider
"I can argue Nabokov, but there's no arguing with a Nabokov character."
But I thought they were so complex.
"I'm afraid this discussion has met its end"
Thank God for that. I don't see the point arguing with someone who defends cliches and obsesses over every wrinkle and fart a writer makes, declaring it 'genius'.
Intent in art is meaningless. The bios are irrelevant. All that matters is what's on the page, Rod. Maya Angelou might have great intention but when doggerel is the result, who cares?
But save these arguments for the 5 befuddled dunderheads per month who might read your blog. Nearing 600 profile reads since 2002. That's quite a feat.
11 - Leslie Bohn
Ms. Schnieder:
The commenters above have tried to explain to you that you haven't actually read the book you've tried to review here.
The book starts with a "foreword" by a FAKE academic. Get it? Nabokov HIMSELF wrote this introduction; it's the actual first chapter of the book, not just "some cribbing from an academic." THERE IS NO JOHN RAY, JR.
12 - JSchneider
Ms. Bohn:
Your "insights" do not add anything to this discussion, now over. Does it not occur to you that I have argued with Rodney types before and I knew exactly where he would lead next? I am very well aware that Nabokov wrote the into. Yet in light of the argument, that point holds no heft against the cliche that Rodney defends.
13 - Leslie Bohn
Ms Schneider:
Anyone who can read can see that you did not know that Nabokov wrote the intro:
Comment 8:
Artifice or not, the notation of "Ph.D" indicates academic. Again, intention means nothing. The book begins with Part One followed by chapter 1.
This statement is wrong.
You seem like a very unpleasant person, and now are exposed as untruthful.
Thanks for getting back to me in a really big hurry, though -- 13 minutes. You must have been checking in quite diligently for comments. Wonder why you would do that when the discussion is "now over."
14 - JSchneider
Sweet thang,
"Artifice or not, the notation of "Ph.D" indicates academic. Again, intention means nothing. The book begins with Part One followed by chapter 1."
what is the first word in that sentence? What does artifice mean? Again, following the thread of Rodney's earlier claim, how does this negate the point about the cliches that begin chapter 1?
"This statement is wrong."
This statement is correct.
"You seem like a very unpleasant person, and now are exposed as untruthful."
Then what does that mean for a supplicant to one?
"Thanks for getting back to me in a really big hurry, though -- 13 minutes. You must have been checking in quite diligently for comments. Wonder why you would do that when the discussion is "now over.""
Again, sweet thang, in case you don't already realize, these comments get emailed to me in my inbox. And likewise, you responded in 11. Again, I'll ask, what does this mean for you?
15 - Leslie Bohn
Ms. Schneider:
I guess you are attempting a Nabokovian "unreliable narrator" character here, some sort of overtly hostile doppelganger or something, so I'll bow out. Been done.
16 - Joe A
I cannot believe you thought Leslie Bohn's comments were better than mine! Although she certainly caught you out on the fact you didn't realize the intro was actually part of the novel. In response to your response to me, though, I would ask: how can Lolita be a mere "tool" as you said, and then also a "petulant brat". I mean super willful brats are not usually all that maleable, by definition. Also, since you're not saying it's an artistic flaw that we only get to know Lolita through a first person confession, I'm not sure what your problem is. Did you read the afterward? What did you think of N's ideas about the ape in its cage drawing the bars of its own confinement? Why again, exactly, do you think Humbert is lacking in complexity as a character? I thought you were referring simply to his sexual obssessions, but throughout the comments it looks like what you're saying is that he's simply flat, which is a weird thing to think about someone who's so so freaky, and who ranges over quite a plethora of subjects, immortality, love, betrayal, law, parenthood, shakespeare, murder etc. What did you think of Joyce's Bloom or Deadalus? And as I understand it, you concede Humbert's charisma, just that he's not very complex, kind of like the Charisma Carpenter character on TV's Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel? As for the "light of my life" sentence as cliche, I don't think I was arguing about mere "authorial intent", which for some reason you're allergic to, but the dramatic context of the language. I'm sure you would agree that no sentence's meaning in a novel exists without the other sentences surrounding it--in which case no sentence in a novel could therefore be a cliche pure and simple. True, you didn't claim it was purple plush; but neither did I--that was my interpretation of what you meant when you called it a dreadful cliche, which it's not--and as another commentator pointed out, and you demonstrated, you can't quote another version of that opening, even from all your vast reading in nineteenth century literature. I would agree with you that it's certainly romantic and over-dramatic, but I thought this, to put things differently, was a part of the character's apparently non-existent complexity, his self-dramatization ironically spoiled over and over again by his hypocrisy and his own sociopathy. I like that you use words like fart and barf in your criticism, I just wish you knew what crap really was, like say, Sister Carrie. Talk about dusty melodramatic Cliches! Please talk about them. P.S. I read your review twice before responding to it the first time, fully absorbing its "ideas", and would only add that the quotes you marshalled to stave off my objectively correct arguments had nothing to do with what I was trying to suggest. When I said that Humbert's obsession connects with readers on all kinds of levels, for instance, I was not referring to the normalizing of the situation through the context (note that word) of the character's justifications and various descriptions, but was talking mainly about something higher, the frustrated dreams of transcending life's limitations all of us feel, themes dominant from Quixote to Bovary to Gatsby, and which are ruined by niggling realities and contingencies none could foresee, save the fact of their coming into being is always foreseeable. This is fun.
17 - JSchneider
Joe:
"Although she certainly caught you out on the fact you didn't realize the intro was actually part of the novel."
Leslie could not locate the snot in her own nose. A simple Google search reveals the identity behind the Forward and the "tricks" Nabokov uses. Though the novel we speak of is Humbert's memoir, and that begins with chapter 1. The Forward is just flourish, likely written to give critics something to yank themselves over as Rodney loves doing so well.
"Why again, exactly, do you think Humbert is lacking in complexity as a character?"
I explained this already. You're better off explaining what makes him so complex. Write your own essay on it.
"I'm sure you would agree that no sentence's meaning in a novel exists without the other sentences surrounding it--in which case no sentence in a novel could therefore be a cliche pure and simple."
Yes a cliche is a cliche because of how something is used in context. If someone has a "bleeding heart" because they've been shot, it's not a cliche because you're dealing with the literal, matter of fact. But use that in a love poem and it's crap. The way the "light of my life, fire of my loins" is used in this novel is very trite because it's taken seriously by the speaker. It's the introductory "moment" and it sucks. You wouldn't know this was a trash romance, going by that opening sentence.
"True, you didn't claim it was purple plush; but neither did I--that was my interpretation of what you meant"
Wow, you willfully admitting to distorting what I'm saying? No way! Next you'll bring up the damn forward again. Yawn.
"he Charisma Carpenter character on TV's Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel?"
I wouldn't know, I don't watch Sesame Street either.
"the frustrated dreams of transcending life's limitations all of us feel, themes dominant from Quixote to Bovary to Gatsby, and which are ruined by niggling realities and contingencies none could foresee, save the fact of their coming into being is always foreseeable"
And all this is great intention, but it's the execution that matters. Of those names you mentioned, each are expressed at different levels of quality. The crap film "Crash" has similar motivations, but it sucks ass. As does "The Hours" or any Hollywood Hemorrhoid put out in the last decade.
"Sister Carrie. Talk about dusty melodramatic Cliches!"
You don't have a clue what you're talking about. Dreiser is exceptionally fresh but I'm not going to be the one to teach you what cliche means.
"This is fun."
YAWN. You people bore me.
18 - Ruvy
I will make one observation that I think is worth noting. Today, young women go on various sites and practically masturbate for the camera. But many years ago, when "Lolita" came out, it was the kind of book one did not leave out on the coffee table. And while there has always been pornography of one variety or another available, it was not so easily available when Lolita was published, and at the time, "Lolita" itself was regarded by many as pornography.
This has been missed entirely by all those commenting on Nabokov's novel, including, especially including, the reviewer, who should know something of the book he or she reviews. Its subject matter - holding a young girl hostage and fornicating with her - was considered salacious once. It is a comment on American society's low moral standards that it is so banal today. Wonder why there are so many kids missing whose pictures are on milk cartons today, eh?
I read this book many years ago because of its salacious reputation. I didn't enjoy it all. I was looking for something in it that was not there - raw sex. Nabokov did not write a work of pornography, but the standards of the day made it seem so to this reader when he read it.
I do not have the luxury of time to read this book today and possibly enjoy what there is to enjoy in it - the black humor and the prose.
19 - Rodney Welch
Joe, Of all the many approaches to the novel, what you aptly call the "frustrated dreams of transcending life's limitations" is one that continues to make the book burn in the memory, particularly as a person ages.
I forget who the critic was who said that Lolita represents for Humbert an island of youth -- something from which he's been cut off and to which he can never return. Humbert can possess Lolita physically, but he can't make her love him, and can't be part of her world, at least not in the way he wants. What he wants is a rerun of his own belated Annabel Lee episode, without the interruption -- and, of course, it can't be done.
Another theme, closely related: death. Martin Amis has pointed out that death runs throughout the book. Humbert, as he is writing, dreams of the past even as he drifts into the abyss of the future (he himself will die, not long after finishing the book, of course, as John Ray tells us early on.)
Part of Lolita's appeal for Humbert is that she's at an age where she will not remain, somewhere between child and woman, in that brief space of time before adulthood, where Humbert is haplessly mired forever. Lolita has the essential quality of true beauty: impermanence. Like a rose, Lolita's great appeal for Humbert is that her beauty won't last. I think this is what Wallace Stevens meant when he wrote that "Death is the mother of beauty."
Nabokov alludes to this distance between Lolita and Humbert throughout the book, such as that passage quoted in Jessica's review -- "her bi-iliac garland still as brief as a lad’s," which of course refers to the last lines of Housman's "To An Athlete Dying Young": "find unwithered on its curls/The garland briefer than a girl's." The only way for Lolita to stay young forever is to die, like Housman's athlete -- before age, rot and remorse take their inevitable toll.
20 - JSchneider
Ruvy:
I state this in my review, opening paragraph:
"It’s a good book certainly, but much of its reputation, I have to believe, is due to the controversial subject matter for its day, as well as critics cribbing from one another their overpraise for the book."
Rodney, you're back. It's been awhile. Housman was a mediocre poet.
21 - Rodney Welch
Ruvy, A lot of people still regard it as pornography, and think that it's had a baneful effect on society because it somehow normalized an illicit relationship -- although anyone who reads the book will quickly realize Humbert is not normal.
Keep in mind, also, though, that there were a variety of provocative, trail-blazing books and movies in the 1950s, but it takes more than controversy to give something lasting merit. No one would ever list "And God Created Woman," "Baby Doll" or "The Outlaw" on a list of the greatest movies ever made, for example, and "Tobacco Road" or "Fanny Hill" won't appear on many lists of great novels, I wouldn't think.
"Lolita" still raises eyebrows, but beneath the salacious surface is a novel of desire, entrapment, death, and art -- "the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita."
22 - Rodney Welch
P.S. Just glanced at the Modern Library List of 100 Best Novels of the 20th Century. "Tobacco Road" made the cut at 91. Anyway, you get my point.
23 - JSchneider
That list is lame. There are also many mediocre and bad titles on there as well. Where is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn? Thomas Wolfe? Yet they have Finnegans Wake among other disasters.
But what do you know, Sister Carrie made it!
24 - zingzing
finnegans wake, a disaster? how would you know? read it?
25 - Rodney Welch
I think "Look Homeward, Angel" is fighting for first place with "Of Human Bondage" on the list for Most Unreadable 100 Novels of the 20th Century. But, what ho, look, here's "Sophie's Choice" nipping at their heels...