The Prose of Lolita

When examining a text like Lolita, especially in the context of its history and reception, an obvious question or standard that comes to mind is how the author was able to produce a piece with this subject matter that has become a revered classic. Obviously, there are valid points of contention that come up around a work written from the perspective of an openly honest pedophile. I doubt there are many people who would look at the bare objectivity of Humbert Humbert’s sexual obsession with young, prepubescent girls and seek to defend him. Pedophilia, especially when acted upon as it is in Lolita, is despicable; it’s an abhorrent existence, period. So how does that objectively disgusting person become a somewhat sympathized-with narrator, or at the very least, someone who is able to garner an audience willing to listen to him? The answer is the same thing that makes Lolita so wonderful and able to stand the test of time.
The prose of Lolita is marvelous, quite simply, and creates a comical, honest, and almost persuasive narrative. I use that last adjective loosely, because as I established in the first paragraph, I doubt many people would say they were persuaded by Humbert’s tale to accept pedophilia as a proper way of life. Anyone who might be persuaded would surely never admit to it, anyway. But Nabakov’s mastery of language and voice is so compelling that his audience wants to know Humbert, is curious about how he has come to this point in his life and what he is going to do about the love he is seemingly unable to control. After all, when you forget about Lolita’s age (if you can), it’s a story about unrequited (or somewhat requited) love, and who can’t relate to that? I suppose the easier way to put that is that it is a modern love story. No one is interested in reading a story where a 28 year-old man meets a 27 year-old woman on page two, and the next 300 pages describes them living a beautiful, happy life. That’s boring. But even with a piqued interest, you’re not going to keep an audience around for long if your narrator is using simple, crude language where he discusses his desire to bang a 12 year-old. That is what makes Lolita more than just an indulgence of morbid curiosity.
In the opening pages, Humbert recounts many previous fantasies and obsessions, girls he’s watched, thought about, and actions he’s taken with grown women as a means of appearing normal or trying to normalize himself. All of this is tolerable, though slightly disturbing, because there’s no consummation, no real action taken on his desires. However, things become extremely difficult for Nabokov when Humbert does begin to take action. The first, and possibly most extreme, instance of this occurs on the couch when Humbert’s flirting evokes a similar reaction from Lolita, and their touching moves past the innocent brushes they’ve engaged in before. If our narrator were to describe his physical, sexual reaction to this, it would give us a creepy, disgusting visual image of him and he would cease to be the Humbert Humbert that is so necessary to the story. However, instead, he tells us that “with the deep hot sweetness thus established and well on its way to the ultimate convulsion, [he] felt [he] could slow down in order to prolong the glow” (60). I could write a thesis-length essay consisting only of examples of this kind of language, an elaborate description that tiptoes around what is actually being discussed. However, it is not the complicated language, the exaggerated descriptions, that speaks to Nabokov’s masterful stroke, it is his ability to implement this type of language into a narrator that doesn’t sound gimmicky or contrived, but reads naturally and honestly. And it does. As a reader, I never once found myself questioning Humbert’s voice or language. He is well-established as an educated European man with a distinct way of thinking and speaking, and this translated into his writing believably. This is a testament to Nabokov’s overall success and what it took to toe the very fine line he gave himself with such an undertaking.
I don’t see the need in picking out multiple examples of the aforementioned language, because you could blindly point at any point on any page and probably find a strong example. It infuses the entire novel. However, the other facet of the narrator Humbert’s voice that is integral to the success of this controversial narrative is the honesty in his recounting of events. Part of the image of pedophiles that disgusts people so much is their secrecy, the fact that one could be lurking around your children at any time, unbeknownst to you, and that fact is a terrifying one. It is also the exact reason that a convicted sex offender now has to be registered, and that their proximity and existence can be accessed by anyone. It’s the not knowing that is so frightening. And although Humbert embodies this in his own day-to-day existence, our relationship with him as a reader is one of open honesty. We know what he wants, what he thinks, what he feels. We know that he is aware that it is wrong, but that his lack of control is so great that the death of a woman is literally seen as a lucky break, simply because it puts him in a position to act on his impulses. While this reality is obviously reprehensible and inexcusable, there is some level of understanding that is created between narrator and reader, even if that understanding is simply that he has to do these disgusting things because he lacks self-control. It’s genius, actually, and it’s just one more addition by Nabokov to an incredibly potent formula.
The honesty of the narrator forces the audience to sympathize, or at least empathize, with the situation because it really gives them no other choice. This is why Crime and Punishment is so revered and considered ahead of its time. The amount of interiority in that novel was modern before modernism had arrived. It put the reader inside the head of narrator, making him a part of the action (or the crime) instead of just a witness. That’s what Lolita does in a different, but somewhat similar manner. Nabokov doesn’t present a grown man’s relationship with a young girl in a way that allows for some third-person judgment. In a sense, you’re asked to struggle with both the knowledge of the immorality of the actions along with the urge to do anyway. And with that kind of connection, that kind of involvement, it’s impossible to remain neutral or removed. What results is a level of understanding for Humbert, and maybe some sort of sympathy/empathy as well.