Sign of The Conch

I haven't read any of the other blogs yet because I wanted to keep my ideas fresh, so I hope no one has blogged on this passage yet. For my close reading I chose a passage more near the end, when Humbert suspects Lolita has begun to slip away from him. It starts on page 211. At the beginning of this passage, there is tons of “s” alliteration that slides softly, just like Lolita does from her father’s presence to go to the bathroom. An interesting sentence, that if longer would have been a perfect candidate for inclusion in “The Sentence Is A Lonely Place” reads, “being inclined to be lenient, I only shook my benign head…” Now THAT is what I call a well-written phrase, with the “inclined/benign” rhyme and the similar letters of inclined and lenient. To me the way the words look don’t match their meaning. “L” ‘s are straight and tall, not inclined or hinting at leniency at all. In fact they’re more like a barrier, which show that although Hum tries to be lax so as not to upset her, he really is extremely uncomfortable letting Lo from his sight.

Shifting gears, this whole passage is filled with the foreboding idea of omens, played up with words. Humbert’s referrals to different gas stations as “the sign of the Conch”, and “sign of the Pegasus” are a funny jab at American consumerism, by taking these logos and equalizing them with Zodiac symbols or Year-of –the-Rat-type ancient stuff, while also invites them to omen-like status. When H.H. says the gods have decided “here John shall always stumble, there shall Jane’s heart always break”, he brings up his belief again that everyone is susceptible to “McFate”, and that his task it to thwart him. All of these references to fate interest me, because Humbert’s writing shows that he believes you can’t escape your destiny, but he still avoids all these places “where it might catch”, as though he can. Another part of the passage I want to call attention to comes from Humbert’s description of the scene he surveys while waiting for Lolita to come return from the bathroom. He mentions the ice box, the junk, the trash, and then the music coming from the radio inside. He writes:

“because the rhythm was not synchronized with the heave and flutter and other gestures of wind-animated vegetation, one had the impression of an old scenic film living out its own life while a piano or fiddle followed a line of music quite outside the shivering flower, swaying branch. The sound of Charlotte’s last sob incongruously vibrated through me…”

I couldn’t figure out the Charlotte-shudder until I realized that she is “the old film”- staged, false, and rehearsed. Humbert on the other hand is the fiddle/piano playing out his own unsynchronized rhythm: He plotted getting to Lo through her mother while Charlotte carried on.

 The last part of the passage I want to mention is when Lo comes back from the other gas station. The book reads:

“The sign said they were proud of their home clean restrooms. These prepaid postcards, they said, had been provided for your comments. No postcards. No soap. Nothing. No comments.” In his typical fancy prose style, Humbert shows that Lolita is being sparse with her information with the “No comments”, while managing to bring in some of her childishness: of course she would find the idea of the cards worth mentioning. 

Chapter 10, pages192-193

The scene I chose to close read is chapter ten of Part Two, in which Humbert has a conversation with himself about his intense love for Lolita.

“Sometimes…Come on, how often exactly, Bert? Can you recall four, five, more such occasions? Or would no human heart have survived two or three? Sometimes (I have nothing to say in reply to your question), while Lolita would be haphazardly preparing her homework, sucking a pencil, lolling sideways in an easy chair with both legs over its arm, I would shed all of my pedagogic restraint, dismiss our quarrels, forget all my masculine pride- and literally crawl on my knees to your chair, my Lolita! You would give me one look- a gray furry question mark of a look: “Oh no, not again.” (incredulity, exasperation); for you never deigned to believe that I could, without specific designs, ever crave to bury my face in your plaid skirt, my darling! The fragility of those bare arms of yours-how I longed to enfold them, all your four limpid lovely limbs, a folded colt, and take your head between my unworthy hands, and pull the temple skin back on both sides, and kiss your chinesed eyes, and- “Pulease leave me alone, will you,” you would say, “for Christ’s sake leave me alone.” And I would get up from the floor while you looked on, your face deliberately twitching in imitation of my tic nerveux. But never mind, never mind, I am only a brute, never mind, let us go on with my miserable story.” (pgs. 192-193)

Throughout the second half of Lolita, much of Humbert’s account is very matter of fact and straight forward. His intense yearning for Lolita is still clearly present, yet he writes more about the detailed facts of their journey and home life than he does his intense, graphic longings. Humbert’s desires, as much as he is capable of, are temporarily put on the back burner. However, in chapter ten, Humbert’s sexual insanity is more clearly laid out than ever before. For one lengthy, disturbing paragraph, Humbert’s unwavering loyalty and lust for Lolita is uncanny. He sounds like a total mad man.

Humbert starts his schizophrenic paragraph by asking himself how often he is denied by Lolita. Humbert’s obsessive love for the girl is so extreme that he cannot even be honest with himself about her lack of feelings for him, and he recognizes this inability by adding a sentence in parenthesis. “(I have nothing to say in reply to your question).” It is as if Humbert lives in a dream world, recognizes his false reality, and then still accepts his position.

With a quick, sort of spastic change of thought, the narrator then goes on the describe Lolita while she is working on her homework. For Humbert, even the mundane act of a child doing her homework becomes sexual. Lolita is not just sitting in the easy chair, she is “lolling sideways…” Lolita is not stopping to ponder an answer, but “sucking a pencil…” Humbert’s yearnings get the best of him, he loses any sense of pride he once had and actually crawls over to the girl’s chair. Before any words are even uttered, Lolita dismisses Humbert and instead of Humbert assuming that Lolita simply does not want to have any sexual relations with him, his madness overcomes him. Humbert explains that Lolita merely cannot understand his feelings for her, and that is the reason for her dismissive, disgusted attitude.

Humbert calls Lolita a “folded colt,” and continues to stress her fragility. By explaining Lolita as a frail, timid being, Humbert is rationalizing his much needed position in her life. To Humbert, he is protecting her. He sees himself as unworthy and undeserving of such a beautiful creature, and takes note of his worthlessness multiple times. Humbert understands that his droning on interrupts the story, yet does not refrain from doing so. It is as if, second to Lolita’s presence, his own self-worth is his most time consuming thought.

Part 1, Ch. 27: 120-122

Starting from, "Oh, what a dreamy pet!"

Wild Animal Lo
From the very beginning of this section, Humbert calls Lolita a "dreamy pet." Spots in the paragraph reference animals, but these references hardly make Lolita out to be a domesticated, docile creature. She approaches the suitcase Humbert gives her, "as if stalking it from afar" like a wild animal, such as a lion, would stalk its prey. Lo is then described as a "bemused bird-hunter," certainly not a role a passive animal (although maybe a cat) would take on. Third, Lolita handles the "slow snake of a brilliant belt," an animal that is certainly more exotic than the conventional pet. Lo is not a safe pet; she is a dangerous creature, no matter how Humbert labels her or how innocently she "creeps" (again like an animal) into Humbert's "waiting arms."

Also, Lolita is dehumanized. She is to Humbert a nymphet, not a human child, not his equal, and he takes pains to stress this fact when he talks about walking in front of her because "nota bene (mark well): never behind, she is not a lady."

Time
Not only is the snake-belt I mentioned earlier "slow" but Nabokov talks about Lolita's "slow-motion walk" and how she "walked...with...lentor...while [Humbert] stood waiting for her," and how she speaks in "long-drawn tones." Lo is otherworldly, moving in her own time dimension, out of Humbert's sphere of command. As Krzys pointed out in class, he cannot slow her aging process but neither can he speed up her actions. She is entirely out of his control.

Spoonerisms
While Humbert certainly does not have control over Lolita, he can manipulate us, the readers.
"'What's the katter with misses?' I muttered (word control gone) into her hair
'If you must know,' she said, 'you do it the wrong way.'
'Show, wight ray.'
'All in good time,' responded the spoonerette.
In this exchange (my favorite part of the book!), it seems as though Humbert has lost control of his carefully cultivated, strategic language. He twice inverts the first letters of a pair of words, invoking the literary device called a "spoonerism" which he indicates he is aware of by calling Lolita "spoonerette." Even when Humbert's "word control [is seemingly] gone," he is still not out of control of language. He is always directing, controlling, contriving language in an attempt to manipulate the reader.

Water
This one is a bit more minor, but every time the language gets a bit dreamier, for lack of a better adjective, he describes motion in accordance with water. He describes Lo as if she is "walking under water or in a flight dream," and later after he drugged Lolita, they "watertreaded out of the dining room."

It's interesting to note that Lo seems most comfortable in water. She likes swimming and rowing and seemingly all manner of water sports, almost as if she is at home in and belongs to--like the nymphet that she is--the dreamlike world of water.

Part 1. Chapter 14. Pg. 62.

I felt proud of myself. I had stolen the honey of a spasm without impairing the morals of a minor. Absolutely no harm done. The conjurer had poured milk, molasses, foaming champagne into a young lady's new white purse; and lo, the purse was intact. Thus had I delicately constructed my ignoble, ardent, sinful dream; and still Lolita was safe -- and I was safe. What I had madly possessed was not she, but my own creation, another, fanciful Lolita -- perhaps, more real than Lolita; overlapping, encasing her; floating between me and her, and having no will, no consciousness -- indeed, no life of her own. 

I had stolen the honey of a spasm

Stolen:

1) Accomplished or enjoyed by stealth, secret

Honey: 

1) a sweet viscid fluid, of various shades from nearly white to deep golden, being the nectar of flowers collected and worked up for food by certain insects, esp. the honey-bee

2) applied to products of nature of, or resembling honey: esp. a. the nectar of flowers; b. a preparation consisting of the expressed juice of dates or other fruit of palm trees

Spasm:

1) Sudden and violent muscular contraction of a convulsive or painful character

To put it bluntly, Humbert was able to orgasm without Lolita being aware

The conjurer had poured milk, molasses, foaming champagne into a young lady's new white purse; and lo, the purse was intact

Conjurer: 

1) one who performs tricks with words

2) one who practises conjuration; one who conjures spirits and pretends to perform miracles by their aid; a magician, wizard

Purse: 

1) a person's conscience, heart, etc., regarded as a place of safe storage or supply; a person's thoughts or store of ideas

2) more generally: a natural receptacle in an animal (or plant) resembling a bag or pocket, as a pouch, a marsupim, a cyst, an ovicapsule, etc. 

Intact: 

1) Untouched; not affected by anything that injures, diminished, or sullies; kept or left entire; unblemished; unimpaired

Humbert had acted in a way that got into Lola's head. His action was more in his words (constantly calling her "Darling," and the pet name "Lolita"). From these words, Lolita was able to hold HH's feelings and manipulate them to fit her wants. This sentence is very biological and her "purse" was untouched with the "milky foaming molasses," but even though he did not have intercourse with her at this point, the process of having (and the natural processes of) an orgasm are alluded to in this sentence.

Thus had I delicately constructed my ignoble, ardent, sinful dream

Ignoble:

1) not noble in disposition, nature, or quality; mean, base, sordid; dishonourable. Of persons, their actions, aims, desires, etc.

Ardent:

1) Burning, on fire, red-hot; fiery, hot, parching

2) Inflammable, combustible

3) Glowing with passion, animated by keen desire; intensely eager, zealous, fervent, fervid

Humbert created a dishonest and passionate and corrupted image/idea of Lolita.

The basic understanding of this paragraph is in no way one of the more complex paragraphs of the novel, however it is the words used to describe the event that add a beauty to the ugliness of this scene. The reader comprehends that Humbert has pleasured himself in the presence of a 12yr old girl and is (much like Lolita) "encased" in this dream of HH's. Words flow and bring images of youth and sweetness to mind [honey, milk, molasses, champagne, new, white, dream, fanciful, floating]. But these words only serve to distract the active-reader and repulse the passive-reader. This is one instance that proves how wonderful a narrator HH is. He is able to absolve his sins by writing with such rich language. Other than the duality of the words [innocent words that can have their meanings contorted into grotesque associations], HH addresses three persons in this paragraph. 

Person 1: The jury (the reader)

He repeats himself to the reader to hone in on the idea of his innocence. "...without impairing the morals of a minor. Absolutely no harm done."

Person 2: Lolita

He addresses Lolita in a subtly obvious way. When he talks about pouring his conjuring ways into the purse, he lets Lolita (that may be reading this manuscript) know that indeed her conscience remained untouched. "...young lady's new white purse; and lo, the purse was intact."

Person 3: Himself

Then the end of the paragraph feels like a journal entry should. Self-reflexive. He reflexes that his "dream" of Lolita was an image he created and trapped Dolores in. 

Close read, pg 140

The passage I chose to close read was the main paragraph on page 140. For some reason, the way her worded things in this particular section, caught my attention. It is also because this was soon after their first sexual encounter, things were stirring up more than they had been before HH got Lolita from camp, and drastic things were bound to be said/done.

On page 140 at the top of the paragraph starts with Lolita getting into the car after their first morning of being “technically lovers”. Lolita is obviously physically uncomfortable from what happened between her and HH. “Pain flitted across her face” and she makes it obvious to HH that there is something wrong and wants him to see it. Then she calls him a “brute” for asking what’s wrong, she knows it’s not a sincere question because obviously he knows what’s wrong with her. In the car, both are silent, Lolita is in a “mood” and HH is to fearful to speak because he thinks he’ll just set her off. The “cold spiders of panic” are him feeling nervous because of how she’s acting, he doesn’t know if she’ll ever let anything like that happen again, or how she’ll react now that it’s going around in her brain.
Although HH knows he’s being “careless, stupid and ignoble”- he still desires to be with Lolita again, which makes me, realize that he at least does know these actions to be wrong, he just doesn’t care to control them forever. He’s got a guilty feeling, but still, that will not stop him as soon as the guilt wears off, he’s back to going for what he wants.
HH describes himself as a heavy-limbed, foul smelling adult, which makes me think of a monster, animal, a beast. And that is what he is, to the world and to Lolita, who’s only 12; he’s a beast that refuses to be tamed. Because Lolita is only 12, she really cannot have the blame pointed toward her for this. He should be the responsible one, but he can’t stop himself which is also beast like.

pg 309

It was so difficult to pick just one passage because the entire book is just so pretty. I went with the last one of the novel.  It would be cool to post this absurdly late and to have it be the final close-reading post, but knowing my general ineptitude, I would forget to post it or something, and the whole idea would just fail.  So, here:

"Thus, neither of us is alive when the reader opens this book. But while the blood still throbs though my writing hand, you are still as much a part of blessed matter as I am, and I can still talk to you from here to Alaska.  Be true to your Dick. Do not let other fellows touch you. Do not talk to strangers. I hope you will love your baby. I hope it will be a boy. That husband of yours, I hope, will always treat you well, because otherwise my specter shall come at him, like black smoke, like a demented giant, and pull him apart nerve by nerve. And do not pity C. Q. One had to choose between him and H. H., and one wanted H. H. to exist at least a couple of months longer, so as to have him make you live in the minds of alter generations. I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality that you and I may share, my Lolita." (pg 309)

On to the close-reading...

The beginning of the excerpt opens with a reference to the promise Humbert has made a few times - that the record of the love affair cannot be made public while Lolita is still alive, by which time he will surely be dead.  It incriminates both of them, and despite his abhorrent behavior with her, he does truly care for Lolita, enough to want to protect her in this way.

He assures Lolita that even though they are both dead, they still exist [in our imaginations], in memory.  They are no less real today than when they walked the earth together, drove across America together. They are still "a part of blessed matter" and he emphasizes this similarity as if they are still 'together' in death.

"while the blood still throbs through my writing hand" - Throbs: a very visceral, sensual, rough word - almost inherently sexual.  Humbert has used "throb" multiple times prior to this in reference to his penis.  It almost seems like this fervency, this raw sexual energy and desire for Lolita has been converted into a passion for writing it all down, recording the love story in its lovely, horrifying, vividly gruesome entirety.

I really love how Humbert sort of desperately spits all of his well wishes out at once.  He seems almost nervous here, like he wants to make certain that he communicates everything before he signs off... almost like the kind of drawn-out goodbyes you have when you are parting with friends for a very long time.  Sentiments get repeated ("have a safe flight!" "I love you!", etc.) and the process inevitably becomes longer than anyone intends.  It almost seems strange that Humbert, this monster, would be concerned about Lolita's morals, her safety, or whether she'd be true to her husband.  But if we really think about it, we remember his fatherly protectiveness of her - an odd contrast to his decidedly un-parentlike behavior.

Humbert sees his own"specter" as "black smoke." This is worth noting because we usually (or I do, at least) imagine ghosts or dead spirits as being white and misty, not noxious and dark as Humbert describes.  I feel like he sees himself as such a despicable human being that his ghost would be unusually sinister like this.  He also calls himself a "demented giant" - which he kind of was with Lolita.  He was a hulking giant (especially in comparison to her,) he was perverted, deviant, even, yes, demented.

"aurochs and angels..." He finishes with several allusions to art, especially techniques and stylizations of past centuries, as if his affair with Lolita is becoming more and more ancient... which it is.  My dictionary says that aurochs are oxen, so I'm guessing that this is a reference to cave paintings (definitely ancient) and then angels evoke a kind of preraphaelite image - not quite ancient, but absolutely old.  All of these are artistic and beautiful images, like the story of Humbert and Lolita - or at least he'd like us to see the artistry and beauty present in the story, even amidst the inherent disgust and horror.  All of these, (including the "prophetic sonnets") are ways of immortalizing the past, preserving the love and passion forever. This explains his reference to "durable pigments," only his version is rendered in his lovely wordplay and haunting metaphors.  Humbert wants us to know that though he and Lolita could never last forever - for she grew up! she had to! - their memory lives on in the novel, in the "refuge of art" - a sort of safe haven for their sin.

"My Lolita" - possessive, even still.  She was such a focus of his life that he still considers her 'his,' even in death, even once she has moved on. For at some point, she became his love, his life - "light of [his] life, fire of [his] loins.  [His] sin, [his] soul." (9)

A Whole Lottelita

I chose the middle paragraph on p. 76. It is the section where Humbert is trying to project his love for Lo onto Charlotte. He finds a sort of closeness in knowing that Charlotte is "the white stomach within which my nymphet had been a little curved fish in 1934". He is able to make love to Charlotte because he can imagine the image of Lolita in her fading features (and with the help of “highballs before turning in”). I like his use of “large-as-life wife”. The rhyming and the understatement (larger than life being the typical usage) show the humor in Humbert’s pitiful attempt to live a normal life. Normal isn’t possible for him; he is too far-gone already.

In the second sentence, the words “utter” and “adoration” both contain a similar stress in their first syllable. This semi-assonance can be clearly felt and heard when speaking the words.

“I recognized a resemblance to the lovely, inane, lost look that Lo had when gloating over a new kind of concoction at the soda fountain…”. There is consonance between the R’s, L’s, and between the K and the C. This repetition gives his sentences a sort of whimsical rhyming feel.

I especially like Nabokov’s use of “Lottelita” to describe Charlotte. There is the obvious placement of Lotte into Lolita to signify that Charlotte was once a nymphet, but Lottelita also sounds like “a lot of Lita”. Charlotte is older and larger than Lolita; she is a lot of Lolita.

I am taking a class over Russian sc-fiction in literature and film and we talk a lot about how intentional the naming is in Russian literature. Names oftentimes have a root word in them that means something relevant to the story. Double names are also commonly used. Bulgakov names the dog in his novel Heart of a Dog Poligraf Poligrafovich. Nonsense names like this are very common. Humbert Humbert is a sort of tribute by Nabokov to these older Russian authors.