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a-sleepy-reader · 3 years

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Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov: an Analysis and Review

Foreword

Trigger warning for themes of paedophilia, sexual assault, stillbirth, manipulation, violence, and tragedy as well as gruesome descriptions of death. If you want a review free of spoilers, please scroll to the section labelled ‘Conclusion/Review without spoilers.’

Introduction

Calling Lolita a controversial novel is a safe bet. Some readers revolt at its topic, others still protest it as the inspirational romance of the century. Both give Lolita a bad name. I will say it once very clearly; plot-wise, Lolita is a book about a paedophile who grooms, manipulates, isolates, and rapes a twelve year old girl. It is disturbing subject material to say the least, subject material that has to be given more thought than its protagonist’s ramblings of adoration for the book’s namesake.

For instance, despite its fluctuating reputation, Lolita has found itself to be a playful and humorous novel to many, a “...comedy of horrors” according to the San Francisco Chronicle. So what is Lolita, exactly? A comedy? A thriller? Both? It is time to examine this twisted novel and see just how tangled its thorns are.

Plot synopsis

Humbert Humbert is a typical man by most standards: a handsome, French writer and professor with a soft spot for road trips… and little girls.

Humbert categorises the sexes into the male, the female, and the nymphet, the latter of which describes peculiar young girls Humbert feels an intangible attraction to. It is with such a nymphet that Humbert self-describingly falls in love with; rambunctious twelve-year-old Dolores(whom he dons ‘Lolita). He cannot keep his mind off of her; ‘light of my life, fire of my loins.’ In however poetic a prose he may choose to describe it, Humbert feels a physical bond to young Dolores like to no one else since his dead childhood sweetheart. Humbert goes so far to pursue the girl that he marries her mother, whom he plots to drown in the blue depths of a lake to have Dolores all to himself. However, what Humbert describes as a work of fate led to the day Dolores’ mother’s brain lay strewn about the road, smeared by an incoming car. She didn’t need to be subject to Humbert’s schemes to die.

From there on, Humbert has legal custody over the twelve-year-old fire of his loins. Raping Dolores becomes a routine. Though she does initially say yes, she is a minor incapable of consent in the imbalance of a grown man with everything to lose if she is to either escape or stop the affair; she will lose her only family if she reports him, and risks breaking his heart if she cuts off the affair altogether-unfortunates only know what people do when they have nothing to lose. Orphaned and trapped, Lolita agrees to Humbert’s ‘love.’ As he described it, ‘she had nowhere else to go.’

Two years pass before Dolores falls ill during their second road trip and is taken out of the hospital by an uncle aware of Humbert’s affairs. By way of escaping with this newfound relative, Dolores is finally free from Humbert’s possessive grasp. Depressed by his separation from the girl, Humbert lives a miserable life for several years before receiving a letter from Dolores herself saying she is married and pregnant. Though Humbert suspects the man behind both titles is her own uncle, Dolores refutes this by saying that, though she was in love with him, they did not settle because she refused to be in his pornographic film.

Enraged with the uncle, Humbert arrives at Dolores’ uncle’s house and murders him before being arrested. It is here that we learn Lolita is Humbert’s autobiography of the events surrounding his ‘love’ for the book’s namesake. Though he wishes for the girl-turned-woman to live for a great many years, the victim, escapee, and survivor dies in 1952 during childbirth. Her offspring is a stillborn.

Analysis

It’s a curious thing, really. That so many interpret Lolita as a romance, I mean. Of course, it often presents itself in its writing as a summery romance to read on the beach. A handsome man meets a female. An attraction is felt. Male and female confess an attraction for one another which leads them on a series of road trips following the female’s mother’s incidental death. The language is no exception to this tone-just read the first paragraph:

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.”

It’s made up of beautiful, flowery sentences, language suggestive of the pure romance of a man ‘in love.’ With a twelve year old girl he rapes. Yes, Lolita is one of those novels that wears many outfits, its outermost lining being that of a tragic love story of one traumatised man and his ungrateful lover. This perspective is especially interesting when taking into account Lolita’s exquisite writing; could the flowery language have prompted so many to interpret this book as a romance? Could Lolita be representative of how so many wield words to distract or deceive those trying their best to disapprove of them? Either way, few deny that Humbert is lying, to himself or to the reader, of exactly how the events of his fascination with Dolores occurred. Digging further into the book, Lolita becomes an unreliable narrator’s documentation of the rape and manipulation directed toward a naive minor trying to cope with her mother’s death. Further still, it is a comedic satire of a paedophile’s attempts to justify his crimes... and failing miserably. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I wasn’t even her first lover.” Deeper still and it’s one man’s search for his childhood sweetheart(dearest and deadest) he never finished loving, so he seeks, endlessly, to shower her lookalikes with unwanted ‘love.’ Without end. Without fulfilment.

Lolita is a story of infinite stories.

Review

What first struck me about Lolita was its beautiful writing; its eloquent prose, imagery, and metaphors hopelessly hooked me from the first paragraph. Nabokov never ceases to use amazing similes, description, and personification to amplify the reader’s experience of the goings-on of Humbert and the girl. This is especially striking in contrast to its tragic subject material; Humbert will rape, and he will manipulate, and he will scheme a murder, and he will hurt so many innocent lives, but he will do so with seemingly effortless grace in the scribbles on a paper.

Despite this, I did not find Lolita to be a difficult read regarding comprehension of the text. True, many a word I did not understand, but, despite this, I could always tell what was being communicated; the language is certainly not as dated as Hemingway nor Shakespeare. It may even be a calming read for those with a strong stomach, and will certainly teach a thing or two to those wishing to learn more about poetic writing styles done well.

Some may find the book to be lacking in terms of plot and overall excitement, but I feel this is a subjective view rather than a relatively factual one; Lolita is not an action book. Nor is it a drama. Humbert sometimes spends pages describing the exact locations of a road trip, or exactly how he earned money in the 50’s, and so forth. Some may find this mundane; I will admit that I was, at times, bored by it myself. However, what Nabokov sacrifices in brevity he makes up for with a profound understanding of Humbert’s emotions, environment, and thoughts.

One slight criticism I do, however, have, is that I found all of the characters in Lolita were fairly bland for me. True, Humbert is unique in his attempt to beautify the macabre, but beyond the initial shock factor of his morale and the revelation that he is seeking the love of a girlfriend from his childhood, Humbert can be mostly summarised as ‘quiet, manipulative, scheming, and possessive of Dolores.’ I was not invested in him as a character, probably due to a lack of good qualities within him; it is true that by one perspective, his story can be interpreted as tragic for him, though through the more common lens of Lolita being a 336-page manipulation of the severity of the atrocities of an evil man, Humbert loses all good qualities beyond his capabilities as a writer.

The same goes for Dolores herself, as I found her to be fairly two-dimensional; she is very sensory and seeks goods of food and adventure and she has a rambunctious heart unconcerned with how others’ feel nor how others perceive her. She is what many would call a ‘wild child,’ and though she becomes more withdrawn later in the book due to the numerous abuses she endured, I did not see much depth to her beyond face value.

That being said, I certainly do not think the characters are bad, just that they are underwhelming in comparison to the rest of the story.

I recommend Lolita to those enthralled by character-driven stories of nuanced emotions and traumas, a sort of story of the broken attempting to break the whole. If you are not put off by very thorough descriptions nor by a purposefully thin plot, I have the impression Lolita will revolt, horrify, hypnotise, and seduce its readers into its soft, macabre pages.

I give Lolita a rating of 90%.

Conclusion/Review without spoilers

Lolita is a vile, endlessly layered story of trauma and the endless search for lost love, horrific abuses, of humorous wit and smirking irony, and of one man’s endless destiny of deceit. I suppose Humbert’s own initials best summarise the smile and wink this book will deliver as you holler at Humbert, weep for Dolores, or perhaps even vice versa. They do say Russians are witty, and Nabokov does not fail this reputation even when we analyse how Humbert Humbert’s initials sound in the author’s native language:

Ha-ha.

#literature #books #classics #book review

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rosezure · 3 years

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Songbird 4 - We’re All Suspects

Songbird Chapter 4

A/N: I wanted to try something out with the points of view in this part. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the BNHA/MHA universe, nor its characters. This work is intended for entertainment purposes only. My own characters are, however, of my creation.

Content warning: nudity, mentions of pain, mentions of violence. Please, let me know if I’ve forgotten anything!

Summary | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Winter in Japan was much colder than in Pindorama. Everything was covered in white, and snow fell every other day. Asa was enchanted. The coldest she'd felt was when she escorted Queen Yeba to the Andes for a secret meeting among allies.

Now, Asa lived in a traditional Japanese home currently covered in snow. Her very own little winter wonderland. The house was quite large, having many rooms and accommodations. Her favorite part was the forest that surrounded it. Though the hot springs in her backyard were a strong second.

Asa had been delighted when she learned of the house's possession of one. In Pindorama, there was something similar: Houses at the foot of the Great Peak Mountain often had small lakes in their backyards. The waters were cold, but they were known for being refreshing to those that traveled through the dense humid Amazon jungle.

Perhaps it could be her absolute favorite place right now.

Asa sat in the hot springs, as naked as the day she was born. Crystal-like snowflakes fell from the heavens as she leaned back with her mouth open to catch them. She giggled at the contrast of temperatures in her mouth.

"Madam," The housekeeper, Mrs. Ito, walked out of the house. Her beautiful smile flashed as she bowed.

"Mrs. Ito, please," Asa blushed, "Call me Asa, I insist!" She submerged, leaving her nose and up above the surface.

"Right, Asa," She older woman smiled, "The headmaster and some teachers have arrived for dinner," Mrs. Ito clapped excitedly.

"Splendid!" Asa rose from the hot water and beamed, "Please, tell them to come to enjoy the hot springs!" She asked, already moving around and making sure everything looked presentable.

"Right away, Asa! I'll provide them with the robes and slippers," Mrs. Ito bowed again and disappeared into the house.

"This will be a fine opportunity to assess how pro-commission these coworkers of mine are," Asa mumbled to herself as she retied her hair in place.

The guests arrived: a small animal-like man, a tall dark-haired man, an elderly woman, and two blonde men. Beaming, Asa greeted them and invited them in. They shed their towels or robes and entered the spacey private onsen.

The guests introduced themselves, bowing their heads slightly.

Keigo had been warry of the invitation sent by the newcomer. She had her own house near the campus, and it was apparently luxurious. He didn't want to meet the ice queen Aizawa had described, much less some spoiled royal brat.

But even he had to admit the house was gorgeous. The residential complex was styled after the Edo Period, akin to high-ranked samurai living quarters. And at the very back, there was a private onsen where "Asa" was waiting for them.

To say Keigo was surprised at the foreigner's invite was an understatement. But he was beyond blown away by the beauty of the onsen in her backyard. The hot spring was surrounded by boulders of all shapes and sizes. Smaller stones formed a pathway to the spring, and it was decorated with all sorts of plants on either side. In the far left corner of the spring was a beautiful fountain cascading down into the steaming waters.

Asa waved them over. Keigo felt himself blush as he almost stumbled when he saw her: She was breathtaking. Her dark hair was in a tight bun, leaving her features visible. Her copper skin contrasted ethereally with her icy blue eyes. Sadly, her wings weren't out, and Keigo felt himself kind of wishing they were.

"Welcome!" Asa's accent as she spoke Japanese was only slightly noticeable. She smiled elegantly, inviting them in.

"Hello, miss Asa," Nezu greeted in English. He offered his hand, or paw, for her to shake. She took it gracefully. Keigo noticed her movements were reminiscent of a ballerina. But to him, it just meant she was probably deadlier than she looked.

"I am Nezu, headmaster of UA High. These are my coworkers Shota Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada, Chiyo Shuzenji, and Keigo," Nezu pointed to each one of them. Asa nodded in understanding.

"It is customary here to address new acquaintances by their family name, correct?" She asked in Japanese, tilting her head.

"Quite right, miss Asa," Nezu nodded, almost dropping the towel on his head, "But you can call me Nezu." He was grateful she understood and spoke Japanese. Using his limited English would have made communicating hard.

"If it is alright with you, sir," Asa offered a polite smile, "I'd rather call you Headmaster or sir," her tone was respectful, and her smile never wavered.

"Of course!" Nezu laughed lightly, "Whatever makes you comfortable." Asa nodded, then turned to Keigo and the others.

"Thank you for welcoming me into your school. I hope we can work well together and prepare great champions." Asa bowed her head at the end of her mini-speech.

"You are adorable, miss Asa!" Recovery Girl got closer to the woman and squeezed her cheeks. "You'll make a fine addition to our team." She patted Asa on the shoulder.

"Thank you very much!" Asa grinned widely, giggling quietly. Her smiles and words seemed genuine enough, but Keigo felt flustered for some reason. It was like something about Asa that he couldn't quite grasp, yet it made him uncomfortable.

"Mr. Aizawa, Mr. Yamada, Mr. Keigo, thank you for coming. I understand it must be strange to have a foreign coworker joining under these circumstances. I'll try my best to help in any way I can." She bowed once again.

Keigo was irked. She was too polite. Too smiley. Too nice. There had to be something wrong with her. Something she was hiding. And Keigo was going to find out what it was.

"I assure you my mission is to work with you and for you," Asa declared, interrupting Keigo's thoughts. He looked up to see her staring straight at him.

"Uh, right. Good." He nodded stiffly. Maybe his scowling wasn't as subtle as he thought it was.

The conversation continued to flow amongst them, but Keigo tried his best to stay out of it. After a few more minutes, Mrs. Ito called them for dinner.

The dining room was beautiful. The dark wooden walls and tiles contrasted gracefully with the lighter-colored furniture. The food was laid out on a table in the center of the room. Soon, everyone had taken a seat on flowery-patterned cushions on the floor.

Dinner flew by with more chit-chatting and laughs. Asa was a natural diplomat: Everything she said and did was deliberate, showing her guests how much she valued their company. Even Aizawa seemed to be more at ease than usual, and Hizashi laughed delightedly at Asa's stories. Nezu and Recovery Girl were reminiscing, telling her about childhood memories attached to the dishes she had prepared.

After they all finished eating, Asa took them to walk around the garden. It was kept safe from the harsh winter by a glass covering and its own heating system.

"Some of these species come from Pindorama. I had some sent over since they're used in some of our religious rituals and for healing." Asa walked ahead of them, explaining what each plant was and how it's used.

"Ah, I'm sorry! This is probably boring," She laughed lightly, her eyes turning to half-moons. Keigo felt himself blush.

"Not at all," He blurted out. This was the first time he'd actually spoken. The others turned to look at him in astonishment. Keigo cleared his throat.

"Oh, thank you," Her smile seemed softer this time.

Shortly after the walk in the garden, Asa sensed it was probably time to see her guests off. Recovery Girl was getting too cold, and Aizawa's state was worsening.

"What if I helped with that a bit?" Asa offered, seeing Aizawa's pained expression.

Hesitantly, Aizawa nodded. Asa carefully removed the long coat she had worn over her clothes for the short trek. Carefully, she helped Aizawa onto a bench between two tall trees. She knelt beside him on the ground and gingerly placed her hand over his recovering leg.

"I'm not sure if you'll feel any side effects," She frowned, "So, please tell me if it's too much," She took a deep breath.

Soon, a strange aura began encircling them. Keigo watched in amazement as her wings ripped through her clothes. It tore through the layers she wore, exposing her back to the cold air.

Asa's lips moved, but no sound came out. Yet, all of them felt a strange feeling of comfort. The air suddenly became warmer. Aizawa's leg seemed to be glowing, causing the man's eyes to widen.

The young woman stood up, removing her hand from his leg. She stood up and sighed.

"I hope that helps a little," Asa offered Aizawa a hand. He took it and stood up, his leg feeling more stable than before.

"It does," Aizawa smiled to everyone's surprise, "Thank you, Asa!"

"It was my pleasure, Mr. Aizawa," She bowed slightly.

They left after that, bidding her cheerful goodbyes and promising to see her at work soon.

Keigo couldn't sleep that night. He'd never been so impressed by someone's quirk. His first reaction had always been to analyze and determine if they presented a threat to him or not. Yet, now, every time he closed his eyes to try and sleep, he'd picture her wings, those gorgeous, majestic, white wings. Hell, he still felt the aftershocks of her quirk. It didn't just heal Aizawa's pain; it felt like it was healing his own soul and-

Wait a minute.

Her quirk was a healing quirk. It healed wounds, cuts, bruises, pain. Not feelings or emotions. Or did it?

Keigo stood up from his bed, running to his desk to go over the files he'd received on Asa. They contained classified information about her quirk's history, which the queen herself had. How he got them wasn't relevant. Keigo was sure they never mentioned any other form of healing in the description. But maybe, just maybe, he'd missed it in the report.

Asa of Pindorama's Quirk Description

Type: Healing.

Pros and cons: Can heal open and scarred wounds, bones, muscles, veins, etc. The subject's wings are exposed every time the quirk is activated, which can cause unwanted attention.

How: Classified.

Keigo read through every little detail. He skimmed every page and every folder, taking notes of the information he read. But, he found nothing about the strange feeling of comfort and warmness she'd made the others feel.

Could it be a side effect? If so, why wasn't it included in the files?

What was Asa of Pindorama hiding behind those icy blue eyes?

One thing was certain: She wasn't just a simple healer.

In the onsen, Keigo noticed that her body was littered with scars. Some were too big to have been accidents or minor injuries. It was almost like her skin held war stories from how marked it was. Could it be she was tortured? Or maybe she was a soldier or spy of some sort. That seemed to match his theory more.

If Asa was really the enemy, then she'd have to be an excellent spy to have infiltrated the system. She even got a recommendation letter from the queen herself! What more proof was there that she wasn't a mere healer?

The ex-pro hero wrote down all of his observations. He wrote about the scars, the callouses on her hands, the polished manners that were almost too perfect, and every other information he thought was relevant. He wrote on an old notebook he had lying around his new room.

Follow the events of March, Keigo sold his old house and bought a smaller apartment. After he was hired by Nezu, he sold that apartment and settled for an even smaller one near UA High. But he still had most of his belongings; they were just piling up in random corners around his apartment.

Maybe he needed to focus on cleaning his place.

Yeah. Keigo was going to clean up and donate as many things as he could. Then, and only then, would he start focusing on his new "mission": Expose Asa of Pindorama as an enemy spy.

Asa sighed in relief once they were out of sight. Healing Aizawa's leg took a toll on her. She had meant to lessen the pain only, but she ended up using too much power and fully healed it. Hopefully, he wouldn't notice it soon. Asa wasn't sure how she would explain not being able to control her quirk.

She helped Mrs. Ito clear the dining room and wash the dishes. After that, she went straight back to the onsen. Asa let her body practically melt into the hot water, feeling her tensed muscles relax. Asa had heard of the healing properties of onsens. She'd openly admit to having felt ten times better after spending time immersed in the hot springs. Yet, she couldn't help but replaying the evening.

Hours later, Asa was still submerged in the hot waters of the onsen. Something was off about Headmaster Nezu and Keigo. And she would get to the bottom of it.

The way Keigo seemed overly suspicious and cautious bothered Asa. Sure, she knew they wouldn't all warm up instantly to her. Keigo, however, seemed wearier than the rest. Asa couldn't have one of them suspecting her true intentions already. No, she'd have to deal with him personally.

From what she could gather on intel and data, Keigo was formerly known as the Winged Hero, Hawks. Whatever happened all those months ago made him retire. Of course, he wasn't the only one, but he was the youngest of the newly retired heroes.

Yet, what made him stand out to Asa was his affiliations. Keigo had been brought up by the HPSC. He was taken in by them when his father was caught by Endeavor. Keigo's mother was in no state to take care of him, so the organization took it upon themselves to raise Keigo Takami.

Asa believed his connection to the agency could be dangerous to the mission. She'd have Keigo watched, just in case.

Nezu was a whole different story. He was intelligent, clearly a capable teacher and headmaster. But Asa's instincts screamed the minute he entered her home. If she hadn't controlled herself, his head would've rolled right then and there.

Asa lifted her wet hands to her temples, massaging them lightly. She groaned in annoyance.

This was becoming unnecessarily complicated.

#bnha #mha #hawks x oc #keigo takami x oc #hawks #keigo takami #bnha au #bnha oc #hawks fanfic #bnha fanfic #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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