I just find it a little comical of Humbert's description or his approach to his description of Mrs. Haze. "I think I had better describe her right away, to get it over with." She had "quite simple but not unattractive features of a type that may be defined as a weak solution of Marlene Dietrich,"—basically a vulgar face. But ultimately, Charlotte is Lolita's mother. Lolita's features, personalities and/or qualities of being are all derived in some sense from Charlotte, or her husband. Essentially, Humbert is in love with a previous version of Charlotte or her husband, and neither of those possibilities seem like a really good thing.
Humbert wanted to be in the New England countryside or the sleepy small town because he was getting interested in his studies again, and wanted to spend a studious summer. On top of that, Mr.McCoo, with whom he was going to stay, had two daughters, one of twelve—a possible victim to Humbert's sinful indulgence.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Monday, September 23, 2013
"the physicalization of intangible things (such as feelings, memories)"
p. 15
The days of my youth, as I look back on them, seem to fly away from me in a flurry of pale repetitive scraps like those morning snow storms of used tissue paper that a train passenger sees whirling in the wake of the observation car.
As he describes the memories that he has of his youth, he physicalizes them into tissue papers. Right after this sentences, he uses the word "sanitary" to describes relationships with women, a word often associated with medical or home care cleaning products, such as tissue paper. I'm not really sure what the point or the inspiration for this imagery was. Maybe he was sitting in a train.
p. 28
A mounting fury was suffocating me.
As Humbert finds out Valerie has another man, he paints the picture of his fury as something with an ability to suffocate, a physicalization of an overwhelming emotion. I can definitely agree with the physicalization in this case for it really emphasizes the amount of effect his fury is having on him.
p.18
...inly, I was consumed by a hell furnace of localized lust for every passing nymphet whom as a law-abiding poltroon I never dared approach.
Humbert has been describing the art of spotting a nymphet, and how long it takes to master the said art in the previous paragraphs, and then talks about his normal relationships he's had with terrestrial women, followed by an inward lust for nymphets physicalized into a furnace.
The days of my youth, as I look back on them, seem to fly away from me in a flurry of pale repetitive scraps like those morning snow storms of used tissue paper that a train passenger sees whirling in the wake of the observation car.
As he describes the memories that he has of his youth, he physicalizes them into tissue papers. Right after this sentences, he uses the word "sanitary" to describes relationships with women, a word often associated with medical or home care cleaning products, such as tissue paper. I'm not really sure what the point or the inspiration for this imagery was. Maybe he was sitting in a train.
p. 28
A mounting fury was suffocating me.
As Humbert finds out Valerie has another man, he paints the picture of his fury as something with an ability to suffocate, a physicalization of an overwhelming emotion. I can definitely agree with the physicalization in this case for it really emphasizes the amount of effect his fury is having on him.
p.18
...inly, I was consumed by a hell furnace of localized lust for every passing nymphet whom as a law-abiding poltroon I never dared approach.
Humbert has been describing the art of spotting a nymphet, and how long it takes to master the said art in the previous paragraphs, and then talks about his normal relationships he's had with terrestrial women, followed by an inward lust for nymphets physicalized into a furnace.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
"john ray jr."
John Ray Jr., I infer, is a psychology Ph.D. holder, and also a friend to Clarence Choate Clark, H.H.'s lawyer. Ray Jr. seeks to introduce the book in a way that says, "Yes, H.H. is horrible, but this can be of good use." He also praises the author on the literature when he says, "But how magically his singing violin can conjure up a tendresse, a compassion for Lolita that makes us entranced with the book while abhorring its author!" And then ends with a moral/medical lesson to have read the manuscript, that psychologists can learn from this incidence and that everyone could task ourselves of "bringing up a better generation in a safer world." Whereas, when H.H. gives his justifications and explanations, it's completely toward the self. The purpose is different. He gives excuses. He gives other instances all throughout the world where grown men marrying nymphets is considered normal. The underlining theme is "it's not my fault," or "it's not that wrong." Both in The Enchanter and Lolita.
The American Graffiti-style postscript starting with "For the benefit of old-fashioned readers..." sets the undramatic, reality feel to the whole events that occur and will occur in the novel. It plants this idea that it matters what everyone else in the novel ended up becoming, and that their lives don't just end or vanish after the last sentence of Lolita—which they do, in truth—and that gives the novel a reality feel to it.
The American Graffiti-style postscript starting with "For the benefit of old-fashioned readers..." sets the undramatic, reality feel to the whole events that occur and will occur in the novel. It plants this idea that it matters what everyone else in the novel ended up becoming, and that their lives don't just end or vanish after the last sentence of Lolita—which they do, in truth—and that gives the novel a reality feel to it.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
"enchanter"
"Never before, though, had the subordinate clause of his fearsome life been complemented by the principal one, and he walked past with clenched teeth, stifling his exclamations and his moans..." (Nabokov The Enchanter 11)
This isn't the first time when Nobokov used a grammatical simile. Or maybe it was his son, Dimitri, who translated this novella who thought it fit to sprinkle these in there. Either way, I enjoy them very much. The Enchanter thinks this as he sees the girl once more as he turns around from walking away after an admiringly descriptive observation of her, also very flattering and lustful, after which he continues to walk away "stifling his exclamations and his moans."
He uses very interesting adjectives to portray the girl in the description. "Her blazing arm... her misty head... emanating a fierce, chestnut heat... losing the layer of violet that disintegrated into ashes under his terrible, unnoticed gaze." Some of these I can understand, some of these I cannot relate. Maybe I don't know as much of urban diction as Nobokov, but in the dictionary, violet is a herbaceous plant. Maybe he was speaking of her skin and comparing it to the beauty of the layer of violet, but why make it disintegrate into ashes? Maybe foreshadowing? That his gaze will make her disintegrate into ashes? This sort of extended simile and imagery baffles me wildly, mostly because I do not see myself writing anything so supernaturally poetic. (Then again, that's probably my problem, my shortcomings.) But what do these adjectives have in common? Blazing, misty, chestnut, and violet? Blazing arms could refer to the temperature, and that her arms were pounded by the sunlight or heat. Misty head, maybe referring to the amount of mist that the heat is producing? Misty head... why use a word like misty to describe the girl's head? If it was her face he was describing, misty could mean indistinct, but I'm sure from where you can see so much detail of the girl as to see her arms blazing, her head will have a clear outline. Chestnut—a nut or a color, probably describing the color of her hair. Violet, an herb. Is Nabokov using these descriptions that somehow all make references to heat to finally make that metaphor of his "terrible gaze" as something that will burn her down?
The sentence I quoted in the beginning of the blog, which is also the larger part of the quote that was in Robin's post, baffled me infinitely less. The Enchanter refers to his life as a "subordinate clause," a clause that has all the qualifications of being a complete sentence, such as a verb and a noun, but is something that still needs a finishing idea. An incomplete existence. And says that it has been complemented with its most natural complement, a "principal clause," the clause that stands by itself, a complete idea and sentence, which obviously alludes to the girl.
"On the way to the station he reluctantly stopped by and learned that the person was no more." This part struck me a little bit. I didn't sense a bit of minimalism in Nobokov's style of writing, and even the moment when the Enchanter gets the news that the person had survived the operation wasn't at all minimalistic. It is described as "a total success, surpassing the surgeon's every hope,"—and even an instruction on what to do next—"but that it would be best not to visit until tomorrow." However, "the person was no more," provides no information, no explanation as to what had happened or what went wrong, missing a significant amount of detail compared to the former news, not even a respectful euphemism for death, as in she had passed away, but a simple, "was no more." This brings me to this thought. The Enchanter, when he hears that the person had survived the operation, needed reasons, much more reasons apparently, because that is not the outcome that he wanted, and he needed himself convinced. But when he learns that the person had died, nothing else mattered than the ultimate fact that the person had died, and that was perfectly and clearly transferred through the text. All that did matter was his reaction to it, which Nobokov takes a lot to describe the inner turmoil that spurs from this news.
This isn't the first time when Nobokov used a grammatical simile. Or maybe it was his son, Dimitri, who translated this novella who thought it fit to sprinkle these in there. Either way, I enjoy them very much. The Enchanter thinks this as he sees the girl once more as he turns around from walking away after an admiringly descriptive observation of her, also very flattering and lustful, after which he continues to walk away "stifling his exclamations and his moans."
He uses very interesting adjectives to portray the girl in the description. "Her blazing arm... her misty head... emanating a fierce, chestnut heat... losing the layer of violet that disintegrated into ashes under his terrible, unnoticed gaze." Some of these I can understand, some of these I cannot relate. Maybe I don't know as much of urban diction as Nobokov, but in the dictionary, violet is a herbaceous plant. Maybe he was speaking of her skin and comparing it to the beauty of the layer of violet, but why make it disintegrate into ashes? Maybe foreshadowing? That his gaze will make her disintegrate into ashes? This sort of extended simile and imagery baffles me wildly, mostly because I do not see myself writing anything so supernaturally poetic. (Then again, that's probably my problem, my shortcomings.) But what do these adjectives have in common? Blazing, misty, chestnut, and violet? Blazing arms could refer to the temperature, and that her arms were pounded by the sunlight or heat. Misty head, maybe referring to the amount of mist that the heat is producing? Misty head... why use a word like misty to describe the girl's head? If it was her face he was describing, misty could mean indistinct, but I'm sure from where you can see so much detail of the girl as to see her arms blazing, her head will have a clear outline. Chestnut—a nut or a color, probably describing the color of her hair. Violet, an herb. Is Nabokov using these descriptions that somehow all make references to heat to finally make that metaphor of his "terrible gaze" as something that will burn her down?
The sentence I quoted in the beginning of the blog, which is also the larger part of the quote that was in Robin's post, baffled me infinitely less. The Enchanter refers to his life as a "subordinate clause," a clause that has all the qualifications of being a complete sentence, such as a verb and a noun, but is something that still needs a finishing idea. An incomplete existence. And says that it has been complemented with its most natural complement, a "principal clause," the clause that stands by itself, a complete idea and sentence, which obviously alludes to the girl.
"On the way to the station he reluctantly stopped by and learned that the person was no more." This part struck me a little bit. I didn't sense a bit of minimalism in Nobokov's style of writing, and even the moment when the Enchanter gets the news that the person had survived the operation wasn't at all minimalistic. It is described as "a total success, surpassing the surgeon's every hope,"—and even an instruction on what to do next—"but that it would be best not to visit until tomorrow." However, "the person was no more," provides no information, no explanation as to what had happened or what went wrong, missing a significant amount of detail compared to the former news, not even a respectful euphemism for death, as in she had passed away, but a simple, "was no more." This brings me to this thought. The Enchanter, when he hears that the person had survived the operation, needed reasons, much more reasons apparently, because that is not the outcome that he wanted, and he needed himself convinced. But when he learns that the person had died, nothing else mattered than the ultimate fact that the person had died, and that was perfectly and clearly transferred through the text. All that did matter was his reaction to it, which Nobokov takes a lot to describe the inner turmoil that spurs from this news.
Friday, September 20, 2013
"good readers"
This little piece was so fascinating to read. I read it, in part because it was of the assignment, and in other, because I wanted to be both a "good" reader and writer, mostly because I felt that I had not achieved the former to the extend that I could. Certain parts of it, though, I did not understand. He first "debunks" the conventional method of reading and bringing oneself into the world of the book—by identifying and relating oneself to the world and the characters of the book. It is "the worst thing a reader can do" when one identifies oneself with a character in the book. Instead of this "lowly variety," Nobokov wants readers to use "impersonal imagination and artistic delight." Impersonal. That is against everything that I've ever creatively done in my artistic journey. The point was always to be personal, to connect with people. Nobokov continues on to elaborate more by saying that "we ought to remain a little aloof and take pleasure in this aloofness while at the same time we keenly enjoy—passionately enjoy, enjoy with tears and shivers—the inner weave of a given masterpiece." But how could one enjoy so passionately that one comes to tears and shivers without being personal? Why is it wrong to be personal. Or more specifically, why is it correct to be impersonal?
I have two theories. And maybe it's one or the other, or a combination of both. Firstly, being personal distracts us from truly having artistic delight. It binds us from seeing a work of literature as an artistic form in every intentional way and appreciate it as such that, because, when we put ourselves in the picture, the novel, then the novel becomes about us, and how and whether we connect to it or not, rather than marveling at the world that the author has created. Secondly, Nobokov didn't want to be associated with the characters that he wrote or would write. He didn't want to be limited to the amount and the dimensions of the characters he could create because he would later be compared to them as the author. Or better, he wanted to hide the fact that he was, in some ways, like Humbert in Lolita.
"Literature is invention. Fiction is fiction. To call a story a true story is an insult to both art and truth." Aren't all forms of truths some forms of stories? "Every great writer is a great deceiver, but so is that arch-cheat Nature... The writer of fiction only follows Nature's lead." Nobokov is justifying his deceitfulness.
I have two theories. And maybe it's one or the other, or a combination of both. Firstly, being personal distracts us from truly having artistic delight. It binds us from seeing a work of literature as an artistic form in every intentional way and appreciate it as such that, because, when we put ourselves in the picture, the novel, then the novel becomes about us, and how and whether we connect to it or not, rather than marveling at the world that the author has created. Secondly, Nobokov didn't want to be associated with the characters that he wrote or would write. He didn't want to be limited to the amount and the dimensions of the characters he could create because he would later be compared to them as the author. Or better, he wanted to hide the fact that he was, in some ways, like Humbert in Lolita.
"Literature is invention. Fiction is fiction. To call a story a true story is an insult to both art and truth." Aren't all forms of truths some forms of stories? "Every great writer is a great deceiver, but so is that arch-cheat Nature... The writer of fiction only follows Nature's lead." Nobokov is justifying his deceitfulness.
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