Back to the subject matter......it really is pretty tame compared to the horrors of paedophilia [and really, had Nabokov written about some of the horrendous people who really do exist and do prey upon children it would have been impossible for him to write the book] and throughout the book you must bear in mind the fact of cultural relativism, that in some cultures the response would be 'Well, what's the fuss, it happens all the time?.....' In fact this is noted from time to time by the narrator in many witty asides.

Which brings me back to the book! James Joyce cannot hold a candle to Nabokov, this is prose so funny, so witty, and at times so poignant that it simply cannot be put down by the reader who is in tune with it. Only Shakespear and the Elizabethan poets can make the language sing so well. There are odd phrases that feel like translations from Russian but they are utterly assimilated that they add further charm to the book. There are more laughs here than in any book I know, you have to go to 'Blackadder' to laugh as much in my humble opinion. The inanity of motel culture in America! The power of the adolescent as target of marketing.... satirised to a crisp! The education racket revealed! Catalogues, puns, extended metaphors and similes, parodies of poems, obscene lyrics written in Latin a la Catullus........this is 'The Anatomy of Melancholy' written by a man in command of his material fully able to order and structure the endless nuggets of bizarre perception to continually draw the reader on.

The characterisations are fascinating, perhaps none more so than Lolita followed by Quilty. Lo never really exists as a character [as Humbert notes he 'solipsises' her and yes he probably intends a phonetically related pun there] in her own right, she is an extension of H's desire. Despite this....we get a pretty clear picture of her, the book cpatures that odd way in which we both know the person we love better than anyone else [through prolonged personal contact] yet at the same time they remain a mystery to us. Quilty is also fascinating, here Nabokov has portrayed [not without wit, parody and magic] the predatory, 'grooming' paedophile, his plea of desperation to save his life at the end of the book ['....I can get you in to executions not many people know the electric chair is yellow....'] is like the cesspits of the human mind opening and discharging. [Very well portrayed by Frank Langella in the 1995 film by the way!] He is Sleaze Incarnate and it is impossible not to cheer internally when he is despatched.

Nevertheless it is the narrator who remains the most engaging character. He must 'be' Nabokov in some way because he is so intelligent, so learned, so nimble - he seems to me to be the creation closest to N.'s own heart.

I can only say, read this book! The only comprable experience in literature in my opinion is - in a radically different direction, away from richness toward barrenness - is Beckett's 'Molloy' where there are tremendous phrases like '....the dark sonata of the dead.....' that, like phrases in Lolita, simply resonate in the mind forever after you read them. The Annotated Lolita is also an excellent book, Alfred Appel has done a wonderful job of annotating the text and his introduction to the book is first rate.