In celebrating life's lovely joys, from new babies to new jobs to new loves and experiences, it is difficult to find moments for thought or just sitting and not doing anything. More and more, I struggle with balancing getting involved with the things and people I love to be around and being alone to think and regroup. Weeks when I do too much, by Sunday my head is spinning and I'm completely exhausted and desperate to be alone. Weeks when I plan alone time, I get ansy and want to go out and see friends. Will I ever figure out how to plan just right?
That said, finding a quiet moment to read and then cracking open Nabakov's Lolita, is a bit counterintuitive. Not to imply that Lolita is poorly written or even not a proseful pleasure to read. Quite the opposite. It does however raise questions about the primal state of man that are not easy to grapple with, nor does it offer any resolution. In Lolita, famously, an older man falls helplessly in love with a pre-adolescent girl and will stop at no criminal behavior to keep from losing her. The book is a reflection on an adventure the pair shared to avoid suspicion of her imprisonment and an opportunity for her escape. The truly brilliant element of the book is that Nabokov allows Humbert, the pedophile, to tell the story, removed from the judgment of a third-party narrator. In doing this, Nabakov is forced to create a mental arena in which a man recognizes his lust for pre-teens, realizes its illegality, but must have the girl at any cost. Obviously, in his mind he is not crazy, but completely focused and logical about his pursuit, thus any air of judgment is nonexistent. Here the exquisite writing is crucial as readers are forced to ride the innerworkings of Humbert's mind and hear vivid accounts of his sexual encounters with Lolita.
The other point I have to make about the book is how oversimplified Nababkov's concept has been through pop culture. When the term "Lolita" is dropped into conversation or texts, it is often to label a pedophile. I think that Nabakov works very hard to create a highly complex character whose psychosis is much more inticate than simply a sexual preference for young girls. Humbert seems to truly prefer the unbridled mannerisms of young girls versus women who have learned to speak and behave a certain way. While certainly, physical characteristics play a role, it is more his obsession with simple, unmitigated thinking and behavior that perpetuates his unraveling. I would not say that at any point, Humbert's meditations win the reader's favor, but I would say that he is much more thoughtful and complex that the oversimplified pederasts on modern TV shows.
While Lolita is a tragedy and often heartbreaking to read, the writing is crisp, clear, deliberate, and at moments a pleasure to read. Unfortunately, it is difficult in these moments of brilliance to forget the previous imagery that is difficult to hear described.
