LolitaDownloadable Audiobook - 2005
From Library Staff
Read by Jeremy Irons. You know him as Alfred in the latest Batman movies, "The Borgias," "The Hollow Crown," "Die Hard with a Vengeance" and "Dead Ringers."
Vladimir Nabokov loved butterflies and you can see part of his collection at Harvard.
Recommended by Lena Dunham: "I read it for the first time in fourth grade, because I was told that it had sexy parts. And because Nabokov is such a good writer, I was unable to find any of the sexy parts. Obviously, elderly men should not molest young women, but it has this incredible abilit... Read More »
If you can avoid getting distracted by the suggestive content, this book really is fascinating.
ArapahoeJeremiah Aug 08, 2016
I’ll add my name to the list of people who feel awkward recommending this book, but who still recommend it anyway. Despite the disturbing and uneasy content matter, this book is truly exceptional and worth reading. Nabokov was extremely intelligent, had a genius for language and storytelling, and... Read More »
From the critics
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K_ROK thinks this title is suitable for 15 years and over
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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. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.
In her washed-out gray eyes, strangely spectacled, our poor romance was for a moment reflected, pondered upon, and dismissed like a dull party, like a rainy picnic to which only the dullest bores had come, like a humdrum exercise, like a bit of dry mud caking her childhood.
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