A tale of obssession. A road book. And the time they spent in Beardsley is oddly cosy feeling. The imagery is beautiful and the writing is so so beautiful and you think you pity Humbert Humbert but then you suddenly feel very uncomfortable being in the story. It feels all wrong at the same time as having an empathetic line drawn through it. In the end, I felt myself routing for Humbert, I wanted him to kill Quilty and I kind of wanted Lolita to go with him but of course she mustn't! He stole her childhood! He did horrific things to her that no child should ever have inflicted upon them. How is it possible you feel his love and tenderness creeping through the pages? Surely it's just obssession. But its just not written nastily.
I don't know. There's some very beautiful words in the book, and descriptions. Its interesting and horrible to read something from that point of view, and interesting to know what people think of it in our scared society today.
'All I know is that while the Haze woman and I went down the steps into the breathless garden, my knees were like reflections of knees in rippling water,'
'So my nymphet is not in the house at all! Gone! What I thought was a prismatic weave turns out to be an old grey cobweb, the house is empty, is dead. And then comes Lolita's soft sweet chuckle through my half-open door "Don't tell Mother but I've eaten all your bacon." Gone when I scuttle out of my room. Lolita, where are you? My breakfast tray, lovingly prepared by my landlady, leers at me toothlessly, ready to be taken in. Lola, Lolita!'
'and hardly had I turned my back to go and buy this very Lo a lollipop, than I would hear her and the fair mechanic burst into a perfect love song of wisecracks.'
'but for some reason did not come-was perhaps not allowed to come-to our house; so i recall her only as a flash of natural sunshine on an indoor court.'
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