Lolita
discussion
Humbert is a paedophile. He abuses Lolita.
Jennifer wrote: "This book is about rape and abduction. Humbert is an unreliable narrator and as I recall, towards the end of the novel, he begins questioning his interpretation of events. Particularly, he starts..."
Nabokov actually never intended for the book to be read from a moral angle. It's all about aesthetics. You guys are too bogged down by your own sense of ethics and morality to truly grasp the meaning of the book.
Nadia wrote: "Nabokov actually never intended for the book to be read from a moral angle. It's all about aesthetics. You guys are too bogged down by your own sense of ethics and morality to truly grasp the meaning of the book."Care to enlighten us further?
Gary wrote: "Nadia wrote: "Nabokov actually never intended for the book to be read from a moral angle. It's all about aesthetics. You guys are too bogged down by your own sense of ethics and morality to truly g..."With much delight! To understand the meaning of the book - and any of Nabokov's works, really - we have to look at Nabokov's approach to Literature and Art. I recommend his writings from Lectures on Literature and Strong Opinions. The gist is that in his writings, there is a very high degree of self-consciousness about the transposition from real to textual. In other words, he does not intend for his texts to be related to "reality" in any way. In the first place, he scorns at the notion of an objective reality, believes that reality is always subjective. I believe him to be in the camp of artists who go against "art imitates life".
Writing is always a method of creation, a craft. Also, a puzzle. He never writes from start to finish, he writes his novels in parts. He likens writing to a game of coming up with puzzles with elegant solutions. This is also why he likes chess and featuring the game in his novels. This explains the whole Clare Quilty mystery in Lolita.
Specific to Lolita, you can read Nabokov's essay "On a Book Entitled Lolita" (I believe most versions should have this at the end of the novel). He says: "I am neither a reader nor a writer of didactic fiction, and, despite John Ray's assertion, Lolita has no moral in tow. 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 started of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm."
If he believes art to be all these values, why paint the picture of a pedophile and murderer? Well, because it's not about what he's painting but about how he crafts the story. Look at Humbert's language, look at the abundant use of images, of doubleness and shadows, the allusions to paintings and other works of art. The world in Lolita is a world of beauty and aesthetics. In my master's thesis about Literature, Art, and Nabokov, I argued that Lolita is an embodiment of beauty - that through the novel, Nabokov is saying something about beauty, and desire in relation to art, not morality.
I think that with regards to all works of fiction if we look past our notions of 'reality' and all the rules that govern it, we'd see that it creates something of an otherness - this is the role of art and literature.
Nadia wrote: "In my master's thesis about Literature, Art, and Nabokov, I argued that Lolita is an embodiment of beauty - that through the novel, Nabokov is saying something about beauty, and desire in relation to art, not morality."Ah, well, then you'd be the opposite of what Nabokov predicted when he said, “In fact I believe that one day a reappraiser will come and declare that, far from having been a frivolous firebird, I was a rigid moralist: kicking sin, cuffing stupidity, ridiculing the vulgar and cruel—and assigning sovereign power to tenderness, talent and pride.”
I'd note first off that an aesthetic appreciation and moral development are not mutually exclusive traits or oxymoronic things to present in literature. In fact, I'd argue that Nabokov's work is an argument that they are commensurate. Note that I don't think I'd necessarily agree, but I do think that would be one of his themes.
If your focus is exclusively on the aesthetics of Nabokov, divorced from any and all moral considerations, I think you've missed a lot in favor of a self-imposed and very narrow affectation. Nabokov was very much about aesthetics—though, given his synesthesia, his personal sense of aesthetic beauty differed somewhat in a practical and material sense from what we might even call personal preference—but I'd argue that his moral sense is similarly developed along with his aesthetic appreciation. His sense of aesthetics *IS* a moral virtue, and vice-versa. Claiming one without recognizing the other is to read and understand a maimed, amputated version of Nabokov.
Of course, Nabokov was very well aware that what he was creating was a fiction, but he tied it directly, meticulously to the real world. He was inspired by real world events and he was zealous in his research, connecting up his aesthetics to the functional world. He did things like make tables on the average height and weight of American girls in order to "get it right" when describing "Lolita". (There's a hint about Delores' actual age and development in that table, BTW.... But that's a topic for another day.) Was his first and last concern the aesthetic appreciation of his art? Absolutely. Did nothing else happen in between that first and last concern? Absolutely not.
Further, I have to point out that when Nabokov wrote his epilogue/essay to Lolita, that you quoted:
"I am neither a reader nor a writer of didactic fiction, and, despite John Ray's assertion, Lolita has no moral in tow. 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 started of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm."Emphasis added.
He is making several important points there. First, he's writing in-character in that essay. There is no John Ray. That's a character he created in his fictive Foreward that introduces the novel. He expressly states this in the first sentence of the piece:
After doing my impersonation of suave John Ray, the character in Lolita who pens the Foreward, any comments coming straight from me may strike one—may strike me, in fact—as an impersonation of Vladimir Nabokov talking about his own book. A few points, however, have to be discussed; and the autobiographic device may induce mimic and model to blend.Emphasis added.
When addressing his own fictional character's comments and refuting them, he is making himself a fictional character in that moment. That's how he starts the piece, by telling the reader that he's both the author and a character.
A lot of people skip right over the fact that he's arguing with his own creation there, excising the "no moral in tow" out of context in order to present it without the wink and nod that Nabokov introduces that phrase. That's a common thing in general these days, but it's a particularly troublesome thing when it comes to Nabokov, whose text is so amazingly tight, particular, and nuanced. Just the tiniest bit of editing and the meaning is lost or even presented as if it were the opposite of what it says.
The other thing to note is that Nabokov does NOT say he has no morality to his story. He says "...Lolita has is no moral in tow" he is being much more ambiguous than saying the book (or the character...) has no moral meaning. There's a lot to unpack in that. For one thing, he's playing around with the "moral" as a literary/historical construct. A "moral" in the Aesop's fables sense, for instance. Lolita is not a morality play. It's a tragedy. ALL the characters die. You're not meant to walk away with some overt message smashed over your head. It's not "didactic" writing. His purpose is more than a blunt, obvious, rhetorical lesson.
Second, he's saying not that the book has no moral, but that it's not "towing" one. That's a joke about what he's doing right there in that very moment. He's writing an epilogue to his story. Ever told a joke and then had to explain why it's funny to the listener? It's an agonizing thing to do. Imagine being an author and then having to explain your novel in less prose than a single chapter of that same novel. He's messing around with his readers throughout that essay/epilogue, and in that particular bit he's saying, "Oh, you want me to explain my work? Well, I'm not going to do that. Not how you're used to."
Further, in the self-same quote, Nabokov defines art as "(curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy)" in a sentence that connects his novel directly to those qualities.
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 to other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness ecstasy) is the norm.Emphasis added.
Again, that series of connections gets taken out of context to mean the opposite of what the chain of text actually says. In shorter, more direct language: Fiction exists to create aesthetic bliss, which is a connection to art and art is made up of qualities like tenderness and kindness. Fiction is a state where tenderness and kindness are normal.
Fiction = aesthetics = art = curiosity+tenderness+kindness+ecstasy.
Gary wrote: "The other thing to note is that Nabokov does NOT say he has no morality to his story. He says "...Lolita has is no moral in tow" he is being much more ambiguous than saying the book (or the character...) has no moral meaning."To refute your claim that he does not say he has no morality in his story: In Strong Opinions, he answers the question "why write Lolita" with "Why did I write any of my books, after all? For the sake of the pleasure, for the sake of the difficulty. I have no social purpose, no moral message; I've no general ideas to exploit, I just like composing riddles with elegant solutions."
Yes, I agree that having morality embedded in one's writing is not mutually exclusive with the use of aesthetics but then to use that argument, then we'd also have to consider a lot of other things/themes that come up with aesthetics - it never ends if you see aesthetics as a means to an end. So again, it boils down to what we relate from text to our own notions of reality. What I was proposing is looking at aesthetics as an end. Looking at fiction for what it is - separate from reality.
With regards to his referencing John Ray, he employs this strategy of fictional self-reflexivity a lot not just here - so again, there's that high degree of consciousness that the fiction he creates is a world of its own. He references his own character because there's no external references to relate his fiction to.
As to his ensuring that the height of girls corresponds to his character Lolita, I doubt that is proof of a relationship between his fiction and an external "reality" - it goes back to his idea of aesthetic and creation; details are very important to him not because of what they mean or signify but because of what they contribute to the craft.
If we are too concerned with morality as the thread of comments preceding this seems to be, then like you, I think this is ignoring much more of what the novel does aesthetically - for instance, the parody of the American travel novel, the playful forms of poetry in the narrative,
I am not convinced with your claim that Nabokov's aesthetic is coextensive with a moral virtue - Nabokov rebutted any claim of having any moral or social purpose as an author.
Nadia wrote: "Why did I write any of my books, after all? For the sake of the pleasure, for the sake of the difficulty. I have no social purpose, no moral message; I've no general ideas to exploit, I just like composing riddles with elegant solutions."This is another one of those quotes that often gets presented as Nabokov saying externally and unironically that his book has no morality, but is divorced from the context in which it was written in order to make that assertion. If you go back and look again you'll note that he introduces that interview—in a way that parallels his introduction to the Epilogue for Lolita—by saying he's written his answers on index cards (as was his practice) and that the text as it appears in Strong Opinions isn't just his own writing, but he has also edited it from a bad transcription.
... I have mislaid the cards on which I had written my answers. I suspect that the published text was taken straight from the tape for it teems with inaccuracies. These I have tried to weed out ten years later but was forced to strike out a few sentences here and there when memory refused to restore the sense flawed by defective or improperly mended speech.In short, he is once again in character.
Nabokov was (still is, really) the master of the unreliable narrator, and he doesn't suddenly shift out of that mode in an "interview" situation. He notes in the introduction to Strong Opinions how carefully manufactured and controlled those interviews are. Here are some relevant bits from the Foreward:
I think like a genius, I write like a distinguished author, and I speak like a child.Nabokov very much enjoyed playing with these interviews as much as he did composing his text, and they are often as fictive. In the same interview in which he claims "no moral message" he also says that that the first "throb" of Lolita came while suffering from intercostal neuralgia when he read a newspaper story about an ape who did a charcoal sketch of its own cage. This never happened. It's just a framework for him to poke fun at the question, which he does throughout the book. It also lets him do a little Adam/Eve thing, that'll he'll later round out neatly with the last answer to that interview. Point being, the whole text is carefully fabricated and presented. It should be read with the same careful eye that one looks at the narration in Lolita.
...
...nobody should ask me to submit to an interview if by "interview" a chat between two normal human beings is implied. ... Nowadays I take every precaution to ensure a dignified beat of the mandarin's fan. The interviewer's questions have to be sent to me in writing, answered by me in writing, and reproduced verbatim. Such are the three absolute conditions.
When he says "I have no social purpose, no moral message" and even "no general ideas to exploit" (Note: He has no "general ideas"? Really? How's that even possible? What is there if not a general idea?) then people read that with no sense of irony and present it as Nabokov speaking plain. He's not. He's playing with you. Also from the same interview in Strong Opinions:
I am fond of chess but deception in chess, as in art, is only part of the game; it's part of the combination, part of the delightful possibilities, illusions, vistas of thought, which can be false vistas, perhaps. I think a good combination should always contain a certain element of deception.Emphasis added
Nadia wrote: "If we are too concerned with morality as the thread of comments preceding this seems to be, then like you, I think this is ignoring much more of what the novel does aesthetically - for instance, the parody of the American travel novel, the playful forms of poetry in the narrative, "
Well, I can only respond to that by saying that ONE of us is definitely missing something. Maybe it's me. If so, despite your assertion, I'm pretty sure I can still appreciate Nabokov's parodic elements of the American travel novel and playful poetry in the narrative while still seeing a moral message beneath, between and behind those things. If it's you, however, you've missed a fundamental aspect of the novel and Nabokov's work as a whole.
From Ian Frazier's recent article in The New Yorker, titled Rereading "Lolita", in which he likens the novel to Huckleberry Finn, works he considers atrocious-hilarious:My mother died thirty-two years ago, and as I reread the book recently for the _n_th time I used her eyes and winced and recoiled the way I imagine she did. (It really is a wince-inducing book, and far more so today.) I go back to the scene in “Huckleberry Finn” where Pap Finn is getting drunk before he starts chasing Huck around and calling him the angel of death and trying to kill him. As the liquor takes hold, Pap begins a lowlife soliloquy about the “gov’ment,” and about a white-shirted [N-word] who wouldn’t have given Pap the right of way if Pap hadn’t shoved the [N-word] off the sidewalk; and, while Pap is ripping and tearing around, he stumbles over a tub on the floor and then kicks it for revenge. “But it warn’t good judgement,” Huck says, “because that was the boot that had a couple of his toes leakin’ out the front.” Pap lets out a scream “that fairly made a body’s hair raise,” and then hops around cursing the gov’ment, and the [N-word], and the tub, with unprintable curses “hove” at all of them.
The scene is one of the wildest and funniest in American literature. Humbert’s tale—his long and morally clueless address to the winged gentlemen and -women of the jury—belongs in the same atrocious-hilarious genre. “Lolita” continues to challenge the equanimity of sane and decent readers, just as it has become difficult or impossible, for all practical purposes, to read Pap’s soliloquy out loud in respectable circles today. (That may have always been the case, but for changing reasons.) Horror and comedy entangle themselves with each other in these great American works of satire until our laughter and our recoiling become almost the same.
America construes itself as a game that anybody can play, and Russians know how to play it well, as we learn and relearn. In “Lolita,” Nabokov gave us a copy of ourselves we couldn’t tell from the original. No American writer has done the reverse—has written a novel about Russia that understood the country so profoundly, and that Russians themselves read widely and loved. “Lolita” is an American book in a way that no novel by a native-born American is a Russian book. It’s an American masterpiece of the atrocious-hilarious, like “Huckleberry Finn.” We encounter these works as best we can, and fail to civilize them, and pass by in our generations, and they remain. ♦
Here are two excerpts from the actor/screenwriter Emily Mortimer's provocative essay in the New York Times Book Review, titled "How on earth has 'Lolita' escaped censure? The daughter of a free-speech advocate has some ideas."Full article: http://nyti.ms/3uZnrx0
"In some ways I think it is much easier to separate the writer from his subject in the case of Nabokov and “Lolita” than it is to separate Picasso, say, from his paintings or Woody Allen from his films or Balthus from his little girls. Nabokov was a happily married man who admired and adored his wife, Véra, and lived an exemplary life as an academic and author. By all accounts his only extramarital dalliances were with buxom middle-aged women. If Nabokov had ever had dark, venal thoughts like those of Humbert Humbert’s, they remained thoughts, or words on a page.
But I think there are other reasons “Lolita” has endured, despite being more shocking than many pornographic novels of its time and despite the reappraisal that many other transgressive works of art have gone through in our time. First, it’s very funny. My dad always said you could get away with anything in court as long as you made people laugh: “In obscenity cases the first thing I did was to make the jury laugh. The great object of the judge and the prosecutor was to stop the jury from laughing.” Humbert Humbert is hilariously self-aware and funny. Even in extremis, even at the height of the drama when he is out for blood and on the road to ruin (when a lesser author would have forced his hero into earnestness), our hero is still cracking jokes and making us laugh.
The novel is also written in brilliant prose. Nabokov himself claimed that this book was a record of his “love affair with the English language,” and the feeling is of language being used as it has never been used before and might never be again. You read about awful things in vertiginous, sensational sentences that take your breath away. As Humbert confesses, “You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.”
"It’s impossible to retreat to any kind of moral high ground when you read “Lolita” — partly because Nabokov threads a strange emotional honesty and purity through his portrait of obsession. Because as well as all the other things the book is, “Lolita” is one of the most beautiful love stories you’ll ever read. You finally understand this in its last, thrilling, devastating, tragic section. From Humbert’s final rejection by Lolita (thank God), his breaking down in his car as he drives away for the last time, “the windshield wipers in full action but unable to cope with my tears,” to his desperate incantations: “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!” to the moment he is apprehended by the police and remembers hearing the sounds of children playing when Lolita first disappeared: “I stood listening to that musical vibration from my lofty slope … I knew that the hopelessly poignant thing was not Lolita’s absence from my side, but the absence of her voice from that concord.” Humbert’s pain is palpable and so deeply relatable. The agony of lost, impossible love, the feeling of having defiled something innocent because you loved — it’s all too familiar. The most thrilling, beautiful and disturbing aspect of the novel is that as well as finding Humbert’s heart on the page, we also find, like it or not, a bit of our own.
“Lolita” makes us see with the eyes of a man who is a pedophile, a rapist and a murderer, and that’s I think the essential reason it’s escaped the harsher accusations of both the courts and the moral police in the 60 years since it’s been published. While it doesn’t apologize for Humbert’s vile transgressions, neither does it romanticize them — although Humbert himself is ridiculously romantic at times. The author forces his reader to confront, on every page, the monstrous nature of his protagonist. There is no escaping his awfulness, but we get inside his head and his heart. We end up not only empathizing with but also loving a murderer and the rapist of a young girl. And it feels really good. It feels like a deep relief. It feels exhilarating and paradoxically cleansing. Nabokov called “Lolita” the “purest” of all his books.
My father could never have got Humbert off in a court of law, but he would have argued fiercely for his humanity, just as he argued for the humanity of all of the most dangerous and immoral people he defended. Unlike many lesser works of fiction, some of which my father found himself advocating for, “Lolita” has been protected by “the refuge of art,” where it should be forever safe to explore the thoughts and feelings of people capable of the most monstrous things. “Lolita” remains unassailable because it disarms you and transcends judgment. The experience of reading it, if you do actually read it, is to relinquish concern with right and wrong and just to feel things as another person feels them. One of our most precious attributes, and perhaps the greatest measure of our humanity, is our ability to do this. Florence Green in her little bookshop understood it, my dad knew it, Nabokov did, and really anyone who is a reader knows it, too."
Thank you for that share, Michael, a powerful piece of writing, which puts into words here (at least for me on my part), “What oft was thought, but ne’er so well expressed.” I doubt Mortimer’s article will be quite as appealing to everyone out there on this thread, but it’s just about perfect in its assessment of the complexities and the enduring appeal of this great work of literature.
I fully agree! I think Mortimer has eloquently captured what is truly disturbing about the novel, and what is so sublime.
I read this a few years ago, and...well thought I liked it because of it's "complexity" as I thought. Any story that involves an unorthodox view of the world becomes automatically interesting to me before. Now I question myself why I was fine reading about a man fantasizing about his underaged step daughter and ultimately raping her. A part of me thinks its tasteless to like this novel. Appreciate the writing and world-building, probably. But I want to smack my younger self in the back of her head for saying she liked this.
Congress wrote: "A part of me thinks its tasteless to like this novel. Appreciate the writing and world-building, probably. But I want to smack my younger self in the back of her head for saying she liked this."I think that's a very reasonable way of looking at it. My first and early (as in, I was young) reading of Lolita was similar. This is a complex (using that word intentionally and in several senses) novel and I wouldn't want to echo a post-rationalization type of argument about it being fiction and none of the characters actually being harmed, etc. While those things are true, I've come to the conclusion that ultimately that argument is dismissive of both the literature it refers to, and the real world issues the literature addresses.
That said, I think it's possible to read and appreciate elegant prose while being cognizant of its content. Nabokov described his efforts as creating "aesthetic bliss" and while that language shouldn't be taken out of context in order to justify a shallow reading of his work, that goal shouldn't be ignored either. Some folks find Nabokov too much in terms of his use of language. Others find this particular novel too much in terms of its content. And one can't really critique that assessment, because it's based on a personal aesthetic. Rather, one can only note that overcoming such a personal aesthetic may be required in order to reach Nabokov's aesthetic bliss....
With that in mind, I don't think you should ignore those things that bother you about Lolita either. I have a personal standard that I use when it comes to encountering horrible things in media. (Note, I'm not suggesting this for other people. I'm just saying this is what I do. It's a terrible thing, really, and not a great way to live, so I wouldn't recommend it. I'm only mentioning it here to make a broader point.) I don't seek out things like video from a war zone or photos of brutalized spouses from divorce cases. However, given the nature of media these days (and for a long time, really...) such things are unavoidable. You don't have to necessarily go to the more depraved bits of 4chan to find them. Most "responsible" media gives a warning before extremely violent or disturbing content, but even that affection is often insufficient. Regardless of such warnings, some thoughtless person will post pictures of animals being mistreated on Twitter because they think they're "educating" people whom they've concluded somehow don't know that meat comes from living flesh. Or there will be photos of starved children other people post for the similar "awareness" reasons.
My personal policy is that I don't seek such material out, but when I do happen across it, I don't turn away. I make sure I look at it, recognize it for what it is, and note the suffering involved. I do that not because I am somehow unaware of the results of so-called "smart bombs" on an Afghani wedding party, or because mistreated livestock makes me want to swap out my place in the food chain, but because I believe it's important not to turn away from the actual suffering involved. My policy is not to turn away (and sometimes I fail) because to do so is to turn away not just from the representation, but the people or creatures in actual suffering, and I don't want to negate that. It's real—or as real as media can represent—and as a thinking, rational person, I don't want to ignore reality, nor do I want to dismiss the suffering of those depicted.
The "message" being sent by the person distributing that material, who is almost certainly sitting comfortably, fed, safe, and warm at the moment they hit "send", is one aspect of such material, and one can agree or not with that agenda, but the actual suffering isn't a matter of agreement. In most cases, that is. Some media is fake or being misrepresented, of course, but one has to examine it to make that assessment, so the same basic method applies.
My point (at last...) is that enjoying this novel on an aesthetic level is like the agenda of that person who posts pictures of some horrible thing or another to increase "awareness" of an issue. Where other such media is video/visual, Nabokov's medium is prose/literature. Also, his agenda is one that I think many people would side with, and that a lot of people really are not aware of, or even willfully ignore. What he calls "aesthetic bliss" in that sense is like (but not limited to) the clarity of the photo, the composition of its content, the brightness of the colors, and the vivid details it portrays. I remember looking at a book of crime scene photos from murders (I actually did "seek out" that one, I suppose, since it was on a bookshelf and I picked it up...) which made the argument that these photos were not meant to be "good" pictures. They were simply made to document as much visual information as possible. But in doing so many wound up being amazing works of photography. Disturbing as all hell in content, but fascinating nonetheless, because inadvertently or not, they had an aspect of what Nabokov called "aesthetic bliss."
I think it's possible to appreciate Lolita on both levels. In fact, I'd argue that without full recognition of the content, one can't really get the profundity of the aesthetics, and vice-versa. Your concerns about your early reaction to the book are warranted but they are also part of the point, and in the long run (sometimes a VERY long run...) embracing that aesthetic aspect of the novel along with its content, without turning away or ignoring one over the other, is the more fulsome way to approach it.
Thank you. I enjoyed reading your reply. I agree on all the points that you've made. I would like to add that personally, I am more receptive of sensitive media when they are non-fictions. I seek them out for the same reasons why you don't shy away when encountering such. And, although many of these are written subjectively they do not lead me into assuming the same discretion as the author. That's where I am conflicted with this novel. I recognize Nabokov's "aesthetic bliss" (I don't know him outside the fact that he wrote this novel, so this was new to me.) and overall talent as a writer, or I wouldn't be here talking about it years after reading it. My principle when it comes to reading fiction is to not romanticize elements that are, in real life cases, abusive situations that should not, even to a slight extent, be glamorized. And that's what Lolita is all about. Humbert is a pedophile point blank. There shouldn't be arguments about that. And yet here we are. Because Nabokov created a character that speaks to us with his humanity. He tugs heartstrings. I shouldn't, but I found myself sympathizing with him. I remember that it touched me in a way that was too alarming. When I say a part of me thinks it's tasteless to like this novel, it is the conscious side of me that questions his underlying intention upon making Lolita. Did he want me to cut pedophiles some slack? I hope not. I guess I should read about Nabokov in order to understand. He is pretty controversial.
Congress wrote: "When I say a part of me thinks it's tasteless to like this novel, it is the conscious side of me that questions his underlying intention upon making Lolita. Did he want me to cut pedophiles some slack? I hope not. I guess I should read about Nabokov in order to understand. He is pretty controversial."Again, I think that's a perfectly reasonable way to approach it.
There is definitely a risk of glorifying some really horrifying dynamics in fiction and not, of course, just in Lolita. And it can be hard to tell when something thematically is an analysis or exposition, and when it is glorifying. For instance, I don't think most people who read Dune by Frank Herbert realize that he's really criticizing the idea of the super-hero/messiah, even though there's a lot in the novel/series to show that's what he did, and he outright said so multiple times outside the novel. The same could be said for the film adaptation of Gone with the Wind, which really makes Rhett and Scarlett out to be terrible people. Though that argument is made with a bit less verity as it's a film, and there were multiple writers/directors involved, some of whom were working at cross purposes thematically.
What's worse is that sometimes misinterpretations embrace something that is a critique as glorification by either missing, ignoring, or even outright lying about the actual content of that work of art. That can range from people who are just misreading, or it can be a more nefarious intentional, bad faith argument. A lot of that kind of thing is on display in this thread. Mostly those arguments here err on the side of "not getting it" rather than the more nefarious version of that, but it can be hard to read that kind of thing without it offending on a moral level. Again, yes, it's fiction, but it's fiction that directly points to many, many horrible real world events, and such misinterpretations line up with the real world perpetrators/enablers. That kind of crap can be tougher to read than Lolita because, unlike Nabokov, it's meant unironically. Some people read Lolita and really do describe it as a "love story" and make the argument with a lot of emphasis, and that's been happening since the novel was published.
But Nabokov was really trying to show us the humanity AND the madness of his protagonist. Lots of folks focus on the former and miss or ignore the latter. In a lot of cases, I think that's down to his skill as an author. He tapped right into the justification and post-rationalization mentality that everybody has to some extent, so it's not unthinkable that some people would be fooled. We're "trained" by most literature to relate to the protagonist, and psychologically, we are all the heroes of our own mental narrative. It's very easy to see how that could lead one to relate to Humbert Humbert as the book is an exercise in that process, albeit one from the POV of a madman.
In the long run, though, I'd suggest that the trick is to be a mindful reader, and bring to the novel (and all literature) an element of objectivity along with the immersion.
Gary wrote: "But Nabokov was really trying to show us the humanity AND the madness of his protagonist. Lots of folks focus on the former and miss or ignore the latter."Yes, this is a key point. Nabokov isn't glorifying pedophilia in Lolita any more than Dostoevsky is glorifying murder in Crime and Punishment. But both authors manage to find a way to seduce readers into empathizing with disturbed protagonists who are beyond the pale.
From the essay I quote above by actor/screenwriter Emily Mortimer:
"“Lolita” makes us see with the eyes of a man who is a pedophile, a rapist and a murderer, and that’s I think the essential reason it’s escaped the harsher accusations of both the courts and the moral police in the 60 years since it’s been published. While it doesn’t apologize for Humbert’s vile transgressions, neither does it romanticize them — although Humbert himself is ridiculously romantic at times. The author forces his reader to confront, on every page, the monstrous nature of his protagonist. There is no escaping his awfulness, but we get inside his head and his heart."
My opinion is that *nothing* Humbert wrote can be taken as truth.
Cateline wrote: "Yes, it was rape on HH's part, of course, no question about it. I think the whole blaming Lolita thing comes in because of her overtime flirting with him. Of course if she'd done that with the usua..."1. A lot of horrible things were done to girls in the past, that doesn't mean that having sex with a 12 year old okay in 2021.
2. This was written by Humbert as his defense and therefore nothing in it can be trusted. It especially cannot be used as evidence against Charlotte.
Beth wrote: "macgregor wrote: "Beth wrote: "Hardly... but many of the actions Humbert takes throughout the novel are. "So your personal definition of "insanity" is bias, unreliability, self-deception and self..."
Humbert = Trump
CM wrote: "Humbert = Trump."Interesting. Among other things, I've read the affidavits describing Trump's sexual assault of a 13yo girl, so... yeah, I can see the comparison. Also, Trump lives in a world of fantasy self-aggrandizement and endless hypocritical post-rationalization. Humbert engages in the same process, though on a more humble (should I say Humbertle?) scale from a finance POV.
But that's about where the similarities end. Trump's version of Nabokov's prose is a kind of blathering, emotive word-vomit based on early '80s Soviet Era Russian psyops techniques designed to sublimate the already atrophied intellectual capacities of his sub-mental listeners into rage-addicted groupies. Nabokov is the literati version of Trump's pandering to the ignorati. For all his depravity, Humbert is poetic. Trump is a shitgibbon. If Humbert speaks with the grace of a racehorse, Trump's prose comes from the wrong end of the horse, we might say.
Trump is also always the pathological hero of his own narrative, but to an extreme that I think would even make Humbert blush. Nabokov makes Humbert a relentless egoist, but even at his greatest heights (depths?) he never reaches the messianic level of delusional fugue state that Trump's narcissistic personality disorder and megalomania achieve on a routine basis.
But, damn, it'd be fascinating to hear Nabokov's take on the past few years.
YEESS!! He R A P E S her. He takes advantage of her on so many levels. He justifies his actions by blaming her for "being seductive" or attracted to him, but she's twelve! NO ONE, under NO circumstances should take advantage of the feelings of a child whose sexuality is just starting to develop. I feel like Lolita was a normal twelve-year-old girl who was starting to develop sexually and was exploring her preferences (she did so in the summer camp), and Humbert took advantage of this.
Carla wrote: " I feel like Lolita was a normal twelve-year-old girl who was starting to develop sexually and was exploring her preferences (she did so in the summer camp), and Humbert took advantage of this."I'm even skeptical about Delores' supposed sexual experience at Camp Q.
(Q.... There's a letter that's taken on all kinds of weird meanings in recent years, not a few of which connect up to Lolita in uncomfortable, horrible ways. Quazy.)
HH as our narrator gives us his own account of Delores/Lolita first having sex at camp, but he does so as a justification and prelude to his own assault on her. There are several indications (the timing, the way he foreshadows the event before his own actions, and some cues in the language) to indicate that section of the story is an invention on HH's part.
It's also the hardest part of the novel for me to read, personally, because I find it so obtuse and deliberately deceptive. There are more depraved ruminations and justification from HH in the text, but for some reason that one in particular strikes me as tough to get through. I suspect because it bookends HH outright acting out his plans.
Carla wrote: "YEESS!! He R A P E S her. He takes advantage of her on so many levels. He justifies his actions by blaming her for "being seductive" or attracted to him, but she's twelve! NO ONE, under NO circumst..."With whom are you arguing, Carla? Has anyone in this discussion denied or refuted what you have described? What I object to is the notion that the novel justifies or glorifies pedophilia. This makes no sense to me.
Por supuesto que es un pedófilo, quien no podría estar de acuerdo?? Y no, ella no lo "provoca", es lo que EL percibe en su retorcida mente
This book will forever upset me. I felt like I went down a rabbit hole and havent left. I went out of my way to read this to see what all the fuss was about over the years and Wow! I was even more upset when I learned the real story (the true crime kidnapping that the book was based off of) and then felt really sick! Throughout the book he describes the abusive and manipulative mind games he plays with her such as taking her money, promising her things,etc to get sex. He's treating this relationship as that of the typical high school boy and girl playing mind games and drama but really this is a sick twisted adult abusing and ruining the life of this poor girl. People often blame Lolita- shame on them! Kids do naturally start to have sexual curiosity and feelings but mostly it comes from the sexualization that society puts on us as well as mimicking what they see and hear. She is not truly attracted to him nor does she understand the severity of a sexual relationship between two adults- she's a child! I hate that in our society the term "Lolita" is used to describe a "slut". Lolita was not a slut- she was a kidnapped and raped child! What is wrong with the world?
Gary wrote: "CM wrote: "Humbert = Trump."Nabokov is the literati version of Trump's pandering to the ignorati."
Different language for a different age.
Courtney wrote: "What is wrong with the world?"Wow, where to start with that one...
Michael wrote: "What I object to is the notion that the novel justifies or glorifies pedophilia."Pedophiles can certainly view it as glorifying pedophilia.
CM wrote: "Gary wrote: "CM wrote: "Humbert = Trump."Nabokov is the literati version of Trump's pandering to the ignorati."
Different language for a different age."
There is no limit, really no limit to the slander and libel which the priviledged liberals heap upon Donald Trump. He is in their eyes a class traitor, a millionaire sticking up for Joe Six Pack against the money shysters of the East and West coasts. So far as Hubert Humphrey is concerned I think one might find more sexploitation in Hollywood, the Clinton Foundation and Bidon's life than in Donald Trump's career
Not this guy again…last time I saw him creeping about he was spewing some twisted Nazi screed, and now he’s letting us know what a misunderstood, magnanimous public figure the orange shit gibbon is. I’m waiting. Go ahead and tell us now how we’ve all misjudged Humbert Humbert as well.
Petergiaquinta wrote: "Not this guy again…last time I saw him creeping about he was spewing some twisted Nazi screed, and now he’s letting us know what a misunderstood, magnanimous public figure the orange shit gibbon is..."I find that level of personal abuse offensive and look forward to an apology
Don’t hold your breath.
CM wrote: "Michael wrote: "What I object to is the notion that the novel justifies or glorifies pedophilia."Pedophiles can certainly view it as glorifying pedophilia."
They can but I think there's more than one type of person who comes to that conclusion. There's a superficial reading of the novel that ignores the actual content of the text and focuses mostly on Nabokov's use of beautiful, often romantic, prose to portray it as a pro-abuse novel. It's hard to say if such a reading comes just from ignorance, disorder, or sheer bad faith. Some readers (the ignorant) are disgusted by Lolita because they read it as being pornographic and no more. I find that the least offensive misreading, personally, because it comes from a person who may have misread the book, but at least has some foundation in decency. You can actually have a conversation with such a person, and while they may not come to see the bigger picture they aren't actual bad faith operators or the dupes who regurgitate their ideas/methods.
There's no point in arguing with bad faith brains or their dupes. At least, not in the context of a book discussion. Some people don't just misread, but outright reject the actual text that shows they are wrong not because they are in error, but because they want the book to be as depraved as they are. This is shocking, but shouldn't really be surprising. (Note: some things are shocking even when they don't surprise. It can be shocking to see some horrible event take place even when one was anticipating it.) It doesn't seem like much of a leap to go from actually having such a mindset and intentionally misreading or psychologically being unable to face the actual text that is actually directed at exposing their thinking and/or disorders. There's something deeply wrong with such people, and this isn't really the forum to treat that kind of thing, even were any of us qualified to go about it. (If there are any cult deprogrammers with a background in literary brainwashing then please chime in.)
Petergiaquinta wrote: "Not this guy again…last time I saw him creeping about he was spewing some twisted Nazi screed, and now he’s letting us know what a misunderstood, magnanimous public figure the orange shit gibbon is..."No apology. To be frank, I would have been very surprised had I received one, since I doubt you are capable of any form of courtesy. I recommend that you refocuss your energies on supporting antifa, where you will feel thoroughly at home, and leave the discussion of books to those somewhat more open minded than you are.
Gary wrote: They can but I think there's more than one type of person who comes to that conclusion. There's a superficial reading of the novel that ignores the actual content of the text and focuses mostly on Nabokov's use of beautiful, often romantic, prose to portray it as a pro-abuse novel. It's hard to say if such a reading comes just from ignorance, disorder, or sheer bad faith. Some readers (the ignorant) are disgusted by Lolita because they read it as being pornographic and no more. I find that the least offensive misreading, personally, because it comes from a person who may have misread the book, but at least has some foundation in decency. You can actually have a conversation with such a person, and while they may not come to see the bigger picture they aren't actual bad faith operators or the dupes who regurgitate their ideas/methods.""Unsurprisingly, you're missing a large group of people who think that this book glorifies pedophilia. What's funny about this is that the critique that's missing is the one that is the subject of this thread. Substituting the argument (which I don't recall anyone making here) that the book is pornographic as opposed to that the book condones criminal behavior is a form of bad faith, which you seem fond of accusing others of while being unable to see examples in your own posts. The explicitness is not the issue that people are bringing up. It's the pedophilia.
Mickey wrote: "Unsurprisingly, you're missing a large group of people who think that this book glorifies pedophilia."Although I've participated in this thread for quite a few years, I still don't understand how some folks view the novel as glorifyiing pedophilia.
Humbert is the villain of the story, not the hero. He makes it clear to the reader that he knows what he's doing is wrong and loathsome, and that he is deserving of punishment.
The story demonstrates how Humbert's actions have destroyed his life and caused irreparable harm to Dolores.
If anything, it is an indictment of pedophilia in the strongest terms.
What may mislead people into thinking otherwise, is that the story is narrated by the pedophile/rapist himself, a despicable man who also happens to be highly intelligent, humorous, and--as are many narcissists--charming. He is a complicated, multi-faceted character, which makes it a much more interesting novel than were he written by Nabokov as a purely evil villain. But this doesn't glorify his actions in any way.
Tell me, Mickey. Do you think that Crime and Punishment glorifies murder?
Michael wrote: "Although I've participated in this thread for quite a few years, I still don't understand how some folks view the novel as glorifyiing pedophilia."I would suggest reading the first page of this thread if you are truly looking to understand other people's views that are different from your own although I have a feeling from the rest of your post that you actually view your contrary opinion as the correct one and are not really mystified or confused about other's views but would like to debate someone with those views. I hope you don't think I'm going to spend time and energy explaining to you something you probably already understand as well as you're going to.
Michael wrote: "Humbert is the villain of the story, not the hero. He makes it clear to the reader that he knows what he's doing is wrong and loathsome, and that he is deserving of punishment."Actually, Humbert is the protagonist* of this story. It's Humbert's feelings that we are privy to. It's his joy we experience as he anticipates raping Lo for the first time for example. All of Lolita's reactions are second-hand and muted. This continues throughout the book, even at the point where Humbert is showing his remorse. Did it ever occur to you that he was using her as much in that scene as he did before-this time to show his contrition? To the end, he puts words into her mouth. How do you think this set-up, which was a choice of Nabokov's, affects the story? Does it make the reader condemn pedophilia more?
Since the entire account is written while in custody, every part should have been written by a changed and contrite man. However, there is not a lot of contrition shown until late into the story, and there's a lot of lingering over the details of his crimes that should've filled him with self-loathing and remorse but which often evidenced nostalgia. It reminds me of a journalist who interviewed a serial killer (I think it was Ted Bundy) who talked about how animated Bundy became when talking about his killings and how he seemed to enjoy remembering the details.
I think this needs to go into the equation on whether Humbert is sincere in his contrition or not.
*pro·tag·o·nist | \ prō-ˈta-gə-nist \
Definition of protagonist
1a(1): the principal character in a literary work (such as a drama or story)
(2): the leading actor or principal character in a television show, movie, book, etc.)
Michael wrote: "Tell me, Mickey. Do you think that Crime and Punishment glorifies murder?"No, I don't. You see no difference between these two books?
Mickey wrote: "Actually, Humbert is the protagonist* of this story."Ac..."Yes, of course Humbert is the protagonist, Mickey, but he is neither a hero nor an anti-hero. He is a villain protagonist.
Villain protagonists are fairly rare in literature, although we find them in Macbeth, The Picture of Dorian Gray, A Clockwork Orange, American Psycho, Gone Girl, Picture Perfect, and other works.
They are more common in television series, such as The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, Dexter, The Shield, Hannibal, Peaky Blinders, and Boardwalk Empire, among others.
Sometimes, as with Scrooge in A Christmas Carol, the villain protagonist is redeemed in the end, but typically they are not.
So, whether the remorse voiced by HH is sincere or not isn’t critical in my view, especially since he is a totally unreliable narrator.
As I wrote earlier in this discussion, Lolita is a story that delights in the power of language and the magical way in which literature can seduce readers into entering a fictional world and induce sympathy even for characters who are beyond the pale.
In The New Yorker, Ian Frazier likens Lolita to The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, examples of what he terms the “atrocious-hilarious.”
Claire Fallon of HuffPost, writes:
"We don’t have to explain why Humbert Humbert isn’t likable, do we? He is, after all, a sexual predator, and a remorseless one at that. Nabokov’s Lolita qualifies as a genuine masterpiece in large part because he makes the narrator, Humbert, simultaneously vile and fascinating. Even as we’re repulsed by his devious machinations and depraved crimes, his flowery self-justifications and perverse romanticization of his “love” for Lolita intrigue us. It’s hard to tear yourself away from a peek inside the mind of such a brilliantly loathsome man."
What’s so disturbing about the novel, in my opinion, is that Nabokov makes the reader complicit in Humbert’s exploitation of Dolores. We (although clearly not all readers) are forced and seduced into empathizing with a monster.
This is why I liken the novel to Crime and Punishment. Although Raskolnikov is certainly not as monstrous as HH, Dostoyevsky puts us into the mind and heart of a protagonist who carries out despicable acts.
But I still don’t see—and am not pretending to be mystified, as you suggest—how Lolita glorifies pedophilia any more than Crime and Punishment glorifies vicious murders.
Michael wrote: "Yes, of course Humbert is the protagonist, Mickey, but he is neither a hero nor an anti-hero. He is a villain protagonist.Villain protagonists are fairly rare in literature, although we find them in Macbeth, The Picture of Dorian Gray, A Clockwork Orange, American Psycho, Gone Girl, Picture Perfect, and other works.
They are more common in television series, such as The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, Dexter, The Shield, Hannibal, Peaky Blinders, and Boardwalk Empire, among others.
Sometimes, as with Scrooge in A Christmas Carol, the villain protagonist is redeemed in the end, but typically they are not.."
...
This is why I liken the novel to Crime and Punishment. Although Raskolnikov is certainly not as monstrous as HH, Dostoyevsky puts us into the mind and heart of a protagonist who carries out despicable acts.
But I still don’t see—and am not pretending to be mystified, as you suggest—how Lolita glorifies pedophilia any more than Crime and Punishment glorifies vicious murders.
The key distinction between Humbert and the others (those that I have experience with) is that you see the other protagonists dealing with reality (which they cannot control) and not through the murk of their artistic renderings. Humbert's narration is pure fantasy. It would be as if the Sopranos, instead of showing what happens in Tony's life, was limited only to the stories that Tony tells to Dr. Melfi in their therapy sessions. Even then, Tony would probably give a more accurate account since he wants relief from his symptoms and Dr. Melfi's job is to encourage clarity. Each participant has a reason to strive for accuracy. Conversely, Humbert's goal is to seduce the jury.
I think saying that all these books are alike because they have the same rough category of main characters isn't really thinking in detail about how a protagonist affects a story and doesn't take into account what I said about Humbert being the protagonist. Instead, you are making the point as if I objected to the idea of a villain as a protagonist, which wasn't at all what I said. My favorite television show is Breaking Bad. My favorite Shakespeare play is Richard III. I have no problems with villains in prominent positions in the story.
Again, I feel like you have a set stance in mind that you want to argue against instead of responding to what I am actually saying. From long experience on the Lolita threads, I would say that you are looking for someone who would play the unsophisticated moralist who doesn't appreciate Art so that you can play the worldly defender of brilliant literature. That conversation would be exceedingly stale and uninteresting.
I’d say that “unsophisticated moralist” is exactly the role you’ve chosen to play here in this discussion.
Michael wrote: "Humbert is the villain of the story, not the hero. He makes it clear to the reader that he knows what he's doing is wrong and loathsome, and that he is deserving of punishment.The story demonstrates how Humbert's actions have destroyed his life and caused irreparable harm to Dolores.
If anything, it is an indictment of pedophilia in the strongest terms."
Also Michael:
Michael wrote: ".So, whether the remorse voiced by HH is sincere or not isn’t critical in my view, especially since he is a totally unreliable narrator."
These seem to be contradictory statements. Is the story one in which a main character "knows that what he's doing is wrong" (which makes the story an indictment of pedophilia) or does the sincerity of the remorse not matter? I don't think you can really argue both.
I think I know what is at play here. It's something that I've noticed before, which I just refer to as "empty categories". I started thinking about it a few years ago when I was on a thread about the book Uncle Tom's Cabin. We were discussing about if the slaves were depicted as worthwhile people. Some of the participants started dissecting the different slaves intelligence and rebelliousness in relation to their skin color (the charge being that the mixed slaves were shown as better). As a counter, I brought up the fact that the slave Uncle Tom, who was dark-skinned, was obviously depicted as a Christ figure. Being depicted as a Christ figure would put you in the extreme upper tier of people in the Christian perspective, which is the perspective in which this author wrote. Yet this had no effect on those who were still engaging in parsing how much agency each slave had. They didn't have a concept of what a Christ figure was (I don't mean that they couldn't give me its definition), so it was just an empty category that they couldn't calculate. I also have noticed empty categories in my own perspective. When I was reading Les Miserables and got to the part at the beginning about a priest going to see a dying man who had participated in regicide, I recognized the priest's reaction, but royalty is an empty category to me. There's no equivalent for me, so the whole concept has no real weight. I don't really understand and probably cannot understand what the death of a monarch is like, and I think the Brits whom I've heard complaining about how Americans don't understand have a point. It's not like the death of a president, as some have said. I include an example of my own empty category so it doesn't seem like I am saying that any one is free of blindspots like these.
I don't know if many of the people who will call Humbert despicable (once or twice and then go on to their real topic) are really and truly doing anything but giving a nod to an empty category. I don't think there is any real struggle in them that competes with the pretty words and the idea that the pretty words make them as readers superior and intelligent people. The lure of that persona for some people is very strong. The drive to be intelligent and superior, to actually be like the Humbert depicted in his fantasy (minus the pedophilia, which could be an empty or near-empty category) leads a lot of people astray. I think Lolita is a good litmus test to see where you fall on different spectrums.
Michael wrote: "Claire Fallon of HuffPost, writes:"We don’t have to explain why Humbert Humbert isn’t likable, do we? He is, after all, a sexual predator, and a remorseless one at that. Nabokov’s Lolita qualifies as a genuine masterpiece in large part because he makes the narrator, Humbert, simultaneously vile and fascinating. Even as we’re repulsed by his devious machinations and depraved crimes, his flowery self-justifications and perverse romanticization of his “love” for Lolita intrigue us. It’s hard to tear yourself away from a peek inside the mind of such a brilliantly loathsome man."
What’s so disturbing about the novel, in my opinion, is that Nabokov makes the reader complicit in Humbert’s exploitation of Dolores. We (although clearly not all readers) are forced and seduced into empathizing with a monster."
I think it's telling that you keep using the word seduction, but you don't really explore the implications of the narrative as a seductive act. It's talked about as if it leaves no stain on the reader or as if there isn't any weakness being exploited, and I would say that this bloodless and weightless way of talking about it blunts the impact of the book. Instead it's talked about as if Nabokov is performing some impressive magic trick with his words and readers are just dazzled through no fault of their own.
What is seduction? Take an early scene from Shakespeare's Richard III. Richard goes to a woman whose husband he had just murdered as she is following his coffin. At first, she reviles him and spits on him, but he begins telling her that he murdered her husband because of her beauty. She softens towards him by the end of the scene. Once she leaves, he crows about his success and reveals his true intentions towards her. (He is not actually motivated by her beauty after all.) What did Richard use to seduce her? He used her own vanity against her. She's corrupted by this fantasy that Richard hands to her, but the weakness is in her.
In that way, what does Humbert use in the readers to corrupt them? Who is susceptible to the fantasy that he offers? I think that people who have pretensions about Art and like to think of themselves as above the fray and above morality are likely to fall under Humbert's spell without a lot of effort necessary. They are so desperate for a seat at the table of the elite that pedophiles wouldn't be unwelcome company.
Mickey wrote: "I think that people who have pretensions about Art and like to think of themselves as above the fray and above morality are likely to fall under Humbert's spell without a lot of effort necessary."Yes, I reckon that Humbert Humbert is the most seductive villain-protagonist in all of literature, and that Nabokov is among the most seductive of authors.
But aren’t all good fictional narratives seductive by their very nature? Authors seduce readers into turning the page, to see what happens next. They seduce them into regarding a fabricated account as if it were real.
Did you really feel stained and corrupted, Mickey, by having read Lolita? I find that sad. You know, it wasn’t so long ago that it was considered improper for women to read any novels, since they were viewed as potentially corrupting innocent readers.
Are you so insecure in your morality that reading stories from the point of view of immoral characters feels too threatening?
Lolita—which is widely considered one of the greatest novels of the 20th century—has sold in excess of 50 million copies. Do you truly believe that the legions of fans of the tale “think of themselves as above the fray and above morality”?
Michael wrote: "Yes, I reckon that Humbert Humbert is the most seductive villain-protagonist in all of literature, and that Nabokov is among the most seductive of authors.."I'm not sure why we are getting another pronouncement of this. To my recollection, you wrote about Humbert being seductive here in post 943:
Michael wrote: ".What’s so disturbing about the novel, in my opinion, is that Nabokov makes the reader complicit in Humbert’s exploitation of Dolores. We (although clearly not all readers) are forced and seduced into empathizing with a monster."
I said yes, but what weakness in the reader is Humbert using to seduce those that he is capable of? You are clearly acknowledging that the seduction isn't successful for some readers. I don't think that the readers who succumb to the seduction are motivated by pity (as an example) since Humbert doesn't give us a sob story about his life. So what is it that makes people "complicit in [the] exploitation of Dolores", in your words? My guess would be that a lot of readers are seduced by Humbert's high verbal iq and his general disdain for others.
My own theory about this book is that there is a process that should happen:
1) Reader reads the book. He is seduced by the protagonist's ability with words and sometimes disturbed by the content when reality breaks through the narrative.
2) The reader reflects on what it is that makes the protagonist so compelling to him and realizes that he is valuing things that are not virtuous and aren't a result of merit.
3) He has a better understanding of the story as a litmus test which measures the ability of the reader to see through and reject the seductive lure of the amoral elitism that the protagonist offers the reader.
In this process, you are still stuck on the first step. You could argue that statements such as the excerpt on 943 shows you are reflecting on the seductiveness, but I think you don't want to give up the fantasy that Humbert offers. I think that you believe that being seduced is actually a mark of distinction and not a sign of being duped and weak. You still want to believe that Humbert is special, and since you believe in that specialness, that makes you special as well through association. You're not willing to look at the seduction as anything but in the most flattering terms to yourself-that, like Humbert, you are an elite kind of person and that those that synthesized the information and got through step three are actually not as bright and special as you (and Humbert).
Instead of answering the question that was asked of you (what is the weakness that Humbert exploits?), you just repeat that he's seductive. I don't think you're holding up your end of the discussion. Why bother initiating one if you don't want to explore the topic?
Michael wrote: "But aren’t all good fictional narratives seductive by their very nature? Authors seduce readers into turning the page, to see what happens next. They seduce them into regarding a fabricated account as if it were real.."
I don't think I need to be seduced to read, and it seems like you are minimizing the main factor of a seduction: that there is a lie or manipulation that one party is acting under. You've already used the term in this way in message 943 which says that the reader is forced and seduced into empathizing with a monster, so seduction isn't something that is just pleasant and fun but that there is some kind of resistance that is overcome.
Michael wrote: "Did you really feel stained and corrupted, Mickey, by having read Lolita? I find that sad. You know, it wasn’t so long ago that it was considered improper for women to read any novels, since they were viewed as potentially corrupting innocent readers.."
I was speaking generally when I talked about the corruption that happens and the weakness that allows the seduction to succeed, but it applies to me as well. I don't see much difference between the sexes as far as the effect. I would say it's not gender specific. Although the threads would seem to indicate that getting seduced and then refusing to acknowledge it seems to happen to men more often as well as this identification with the brilliance of Humbert (there are those that seem to identify with pedophilia, but that's another discussion).
Michael wrote: ".Are you so insecure in your morality that reading stories from the point of view of immoral characters feels too threatening?"
What moral code does not encourage a lot of self-reflection and examination? The only one I can think of is "cult leader". Generally people who are very secure in the rightness of their behavior are pompous jerks who don't have a moral framework beyond their actions. It wouldn't occur to them to think beyond their first impressions. They'd also be stuck at step 1 because they don't reflect. Morality is not about certainty, and I don't think it's ever been associated with it.
Haven't I already talked about villains? Read post 944 where I talk about some of my favorite stories that feature villains as protagonists. First, you are again not engaging with my actual argument. You have some straw man you are pretending to be fighting against. It's boring and embarrassing to see a grown person so enmeshed in silly childish fantasies. This isn't a made for television movie about a battle between a defender of Art and a modern day Savonarola. Second, you are treating Lolita like it is akin to every other book/movie/tv show that is from the perspective of an immoral character. Each one of those portrayals have different factors that change the story. They shouldn't be lumped in as if they are the same. And I've talked about what makes Lolita different in post 944, so I'm not going to do it again.
Michael wrote: "Lolita—which is widely considered one of the greatest novels of the 20th century—has sold in excess of 50 million copies. Do you truly believe that the legions of fans of the tale “think of themselves as above the fray and above morality”?"I don't consider you as a representative of the book's fans. I also rated the book five stars, and I thought it was amazing. Many people have been on here with different opinions than yours. They are presumably fans as well. I have noticed that there are some identifying characteristics to the types of people that collect on these threads, and it's interesting to speculate on them. For instance, these threads more than any other I've come across tend to produce people who speak as if they've swallowed a foreword or two. I don't know how many times some person has come here and said that Lolita is about a road trip or about the seduction of Europe by America or about the rise of teenage culture. It's interesting how unoriginal a lot of is, but it is usually spoken in a really confident tone as if the poster thinks he is saying something new. I'd say it attracts those who use books as status symbols since it does have the reputation of a great and difficult book. Fans like that don't necessarily add much to the discussion in my opinion because I tend to value originality.
deleted user wrote: "Fatin wrote: "What I mean by that is, I would rather be murdered than raped."The problem with this line of thinking is that murder is an irrevocable change in state and that rape, while admittedl..."
i think you're not listening to her, it's not a "line of thinking" she's talking about: she's clearly stating she would rather be killed than be raped. so she clearly says, to her, rape is, indeed, worse than death. gotta respect what she says, even if you don't understand it or share the sentiment (which many women probably *do* share.)
Mo wrote: "...gotta respect what she says, even if you don't understand it or share the sentiment (which many women probably *do* share.)"I feel obliged to chime in and note that many men will express a similar sentiment. The possibility is less proximate, so they don't have to face it as often, but if you present them with certain circumstances ("What scares you most about the idea of going to prison?") my experience is that suddenly you start getting that kind response.
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You are adding a lot to Fatin's statement that is simply not there. She was defending Lolita, and based on context, she was saying that she felt rape was a more reprehensible crime than murder. This is not an outrageous statement. It's well known that rapists are often treated worse in prison than murderers by other inmates and by guards. This view certainly does not mean that she is saying that victims lose any value. You are adding that part to her view.
As to her saying personally, she would prefer to be murdered than raped, I can think of several scenarios where I might prefer to be murdered, especially if it's a quick death. Becoming a quadriplegic or suffering a traumatic brain injury where I would have to depend on others would be on my list. Having 3rd degree burns on a large percentage of my body is another. This does not mean that I automatically feel that people with these conditions are worthless and have no value. I think most people can think of scenarios where they would prefer death to living with a particular trauma. I imagine it has a lot to do with what makes life bearable and that varies from person to person.
Looking over her posts, it's obvious she is talking about the severity of rape as being in the upper tier of crimes-more severe than even murder. It isn't about devaluing the victim. It was about elevating the severity of the crime. There can be wide-ranging and debilitating effects from rape depending on a variety of factors. It can and has destroyed lives.
Personally, I think a more common problem is with people blaming victims rather than saying that victims lose value and are "erased" (to use your words). If you want to defend a victim of rape from people blaming her for what happened, I would direct you to the book reviews for Elizabeth Smart's My Story.