‘Lolita’ is not an easy book to review. Perhaps more than
any other novel that I have reviewed on this blog thus far, ‘Lolita’ comes with
a burden of critical responses that make it hard to see the novel for itself. It
is an elusive text at the best of times, with its classically flawed narrator,
constantly challenging the reader to ask whether Humbert’s words can be taken
at face value, as they rarely can. ‘Lolita’ has lost none of its power to
shock, even after the passage of more than fifty years since it was published,
possibly gaining even more potency as our awareness of child sexual abuse has
increased.
So I think I ought to start on safe ground, with a summary
of the events and characters of the novel itself. The narrative is told as a
recollection of events by the narrator, Humbert Humbert. An introductory
chapter purporting to be by the book’s editor, but in fact forming part of the
narrative, sets the scene – this is Humbert’s jail-cell confession, written
shortly before his death. As with Nabokov’s earlier work, ‘Pale Fire’ there is
a significant and palpable gap between the narrator’s view of events, and that
of the reader’s, and it is navigating that gap that makes reading ‘Lolita’ both
challenging and rewarding.
Humbert is a predatory paedophile, who after a period of
grooming establishes a sexual relationship with his orphaned step-daughter,
Dolores. It is significant that her name is not Lolita – this is a label given
her by Humbert, as part of his attempt to erase her individuality and to control
her. It is representative, if you will, of his abuse.
Nabokov set himself a huge challenge here – how to portray a
monster through his own eyes, without utterly repulsing the reader. And make no
mistake, Humbert is repellent. His abuse of Dolores is charted with euphemisms
which do little to disguise the nature of the abuse. Some reviewers and critics
(and to be clear, this is not
an academic work, so I am not going to provide references to support this claim
– assume when I write things like this I simply mean “stuff I have read on the
Internet”) fall for Humbert’s version of events, and portray Dolores as
the under-age predator, sexually precocious beyond her years, and responsible
for seducing poor, vulnerable Humbert. The term ‘Lolita’ has over the years
been used generically in this manner, which is a pity, because it should mean
“victim”. Indeed, in most popular culture representations of Lolita she is portrayed in Humbert's terms - sexually precocious, mature, even provocative. I even read one review online which suggested that ultimately the
great achievement of this novel is that it makes the reader “fall in love” with
Humbert, and that it is a love story. I
recognise I am taking a very moral tone here, but part of the reason for
keeping this blog in the first place was to chart my authentic reactions to
what I read.
What might be interesting would be to give Lolita back her
voice. Not as an imaginative exercise, but simply to look at what she says, as
recorded by Humbert, but without his commentary. In the first part of the novel
Lolita is only glimpsed, and is almost completely silent. When she is collected
from camp by Humbert following her mother’s death, she has a few lines, but
these are mainly every day observances. Of her thoughts on her abuse we have
scarcely half a dozen lines, including (and to be clear, this is not an
exhaustive list of her comments, but I think quite representative):
Before Humbert begins to rape her:
“Don’t drool on me. You dirty man” (130)
“Look, let’s cut out the kissing game” “Lay off , will you”
And after the attacks begin:
“You revolting creature. I was a daisy-fresh girl, and look
what you’ve done to me? I ought to call the police and tell that you raped me.
Oh you dirty, dirty old man.” (159)
“Can you remember, you know….the hotel where you raped me”.
"An ominous hysterical note rang through her silly words. Presently, making a sizzling sound with her lips, she started complaining of pains, said she could not sit, said I had torn something inside her" (159)
While you could expect Humbert to do everything possible to
avoid this self implication, Nabokov has him implicate himself time and again.
He is fully aware that he has no defence to his actions, and that Lolita is far
from a willing accomplice, nor partially responsible for the crimes, as some
commentators (see above) would have it. Apart from her age, and the significant
age gap between them, he is a twice married man, and her step-parent, in loco
parentis. He bribes her with clothes and treats, and finally pays her per
sexual transaction. He threatens her with entry into the care system if she
reports his attacks. He attempts to render her unconscious with sleeping pills
in order to facilitate his attacks. None of this is consensual, even were
consent to be possible. "An ominous hysterical note rang through her silly words. Presently, making a sizzling sound with her lips, she started complaining of pains, said she could not sit, said I had torn something inside her" (159)
“Eventually she lived up to her I.Q. by finding a safer
hiding place, which I never discovered, but by that time I had brought prices
down drastically by having her earn the hard
and nauseous way permission to participate in the school’s theatrical
programme. (209) With this clear illustration that even delusional Humbert
realises his attacks are nauseating, can critics still describe this as a love
affair? (I have found one reference to the magazine 'vanity Fair' describing 'Lolita' as "the only convincing love story of our century".)
“She had entered my world, umber and black Humberland, with
rash curiosity; she surveyed it with a shrug of amused distaste; and it seemed
to me now that she was ready to turn away from it with something akin to plain
repulsion. Never did she vibrate under my touch, and a strident ‘what d’you
think you are doing?’ was all I got for my pains. To wonderland I had to offer,
my fool preferred the corniest movies, the most cloying fudge. To think that
between a Hamburger and a Humburger, she would - invariably, with icy precision
- plump for the former” (Nabokov, 166).
Some kind of normality settles on their existence as Humbert
and Dolores restlessly criss-cross the country, always on the move to prevent
her from making any friends or appealing to anyone for help. But Humbert lets
slip that Dolores never comes to terms with the tragedy of her situation, her
captivity:
“I catch myself thinking today that our long journey had
only defiled with a sinuous trail of slime the lovely, trustful, dreamy,
enormous country that by then, in retrospect, was no more to us than a
collection of dog-eared maps, ruined tour books, old tires, and her sobs in the
night – every night, every night – the moment I feigned sleep”. (199) Is
this the behaviour of a young women enjoying the company of her older lover, (as
Humbert would love it to be, but cannot persuade himself it is) or that of a deeply
traumatised hostage?
‘Lolita’ is an extraordinary novel, written in a complex, allusive
and elusive style which almost demands a re-reading. Its subject matter makes
it hard to read at points, and I found myself immune to the charms of the
monster that is Humbert Humbert. You have to admire Nabokov’s bravery in
tackling what remains a taboo subject, and doing so by rejecting an easy
stereotypes. In looking for a key to understanding this novel, a fruitless
search I know, I keep coming back to the author’s post-script, where he
describes the germ of the novel. A newspaper story told of an experiment where
a chimpanzee was taught to draw, and eventually drew the bars of its cage. We
can ignore the reality of the chimp’s life, but when given the ability to
communicate it is the thing it draws. Lolita was caged, imprisoned by Humbert,
and deprived of a voice, and we can catch glimpses of the horror of her
situation all the more vividly because we see them through the soft-tinted lens
of Humbert’s perspective.
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