Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul.
No first lines have ever gripped me so. I visited Lolita for the third time and as was the case during the first time I picked it up in 2004 I was reeled in -- hook, line and sinker. This book is gripping and powerful now as it was to me then.
Nabokov's masterpiece, the story of an old-world, scholarly European named Humbert Humbert who finds himself in a bind whenever faced with the nymphets in the new world which is America is a tale of depravity, love and ultimately loss.
Humber Humbert had a predilection for nymphets -- young temptresses, unaware of their beauty and effect on men but powerful all the same. One such nymphet which our protagonist falls hopelessly in love with is young, twelve-year old Dolores Haze. Precocious, childish, naughty and rude, Lolita is the focus of his unwavering attention and old Humbert tries his best to be near yet to not be improper around this nymphet. Alas, Lolita is a temptress and maybe all too aware of her effect on our poor European chap.
The story takes on a depraved turn when he decides to marry Lolita's mom to have his dear nymphet closer than ever but what he thought would be an idyllic life of charmed domesticity turns out to be a life on the road, driving solo with his Lolita, flitting from one motel to the next, living by the day trying to be as low-key as any father and daughter tandem can hope to be. His crazed love for Lolita never wanes or abates but only increases in intensity.
Granted that the storyline is disturbing, there is no denying the genius in Nabokov's storytelling. His masterful use of words and imagery makes you love and hate Humbert at the same time. It makes you feel his yearnings, his confusion, it makes you root for him in his loneliest moments yet makes you wonder when will all his seemingly evil machinations catch up with him.
And Lolita. How can I feel anything but love, hate, dismay, delight for this charming nymphet? I see her for who she is, her rude and crass behavior, her spoiled and queenly ways but at the same time I pity her for being the heart of this gruesome love story.
I really believe that only a writer like Nabokov could have pulled off something like this. He makes the reader relate to the characters in different levels, he takes you on a journey across America and opens your eyes to its ordinariness, its ugliness, its splendor. His sentences run on and on loops in itself and makes you wonder whether things are up or down and you are willing to do it all over again if only to read a few more lines of his exquisite prose. Sometimes I am not quite sure what he is talking about and this third time is no easier than the first and yet the magic pulls me in.
I have finished Lolita for now but I don't think I will ever finish it. I will keep on reading it because each time I do will be a different experience. And I relish it. And look forward to the next time I open my dog-eared book.
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