Fuck the haters and fuck the snobs. This was a more than valid take on Nabokov's Lolita from Lo's perspective. It is by turns gaudy, hilarious, embarrassing, pungent, wicked, inelegant, rambling, shambling and surprisingly thoughtful.
I put myself at a distinct disadvantage reviewing it now, though -- at least for the sake of making comparisons -- as I haven't read Nabokov's Lolita in many years and have just started reading Emily Prager's Roger Fishbite, the Lolita-from-Lolita's-perspective novel most often compared to Pera's attempt.
Pera committed a number of apparently unpardonable sins by writing this, the most oft-cited being that it lacks the stylistic, writerly skill exhibited by Nabokov, a criticism that makes me wonder what otherwise supposedly intelligent literary critics -- who should know better and exhibit a sense of perspective and humor -- were smoking. I suppose that every dinner they eat is catered by Sardi's as well.
Another sin Pera commits is that she depicts Lo as a willing, self-aware seductress with a sexual identity; and not as the simplistic idealized, infantilized baby that too many do-gooders delude themselves into thinking that 12-to-14-year-old humans are.
A further sin is that the much-vaunted, charming and certainly unreliable Humbert is made into far less than Nabokov's poetic tragic figure. Pera's and Lo's take on him is as a pathetic, pusillanimous boor; a grotesque aesthete sporting dentures and moles sprouting grey hairs. The only reason Lo seduces him is to gain revenge against the mother she so detests. It's this tense, alienating bond between Lo and her mother, and not necessarily the relationship between Humbert and Lo that marks Pera's primary interpersonal dynamic.
Once her initial seduction aims are achieved, though, the tables are turned and Lo becomes a virtual sex slave to the paranoid Humbert. Lo's desperate longings to escape this situation, as the two make their infamous year-long cross-country trip, make for sometimes heartrending reading.
This book when paired with Nabokov's original Lolita put me to mind of John Fowles' The Collector, the story of the abduction of a beautiful college student told from the perspective of both the abductor and the abductee. The first half of the book is the story as told entirely from the mentally unbalanced perspective of the obsessive butterfly collector who is making his first foray into kidnapping and imprisoning his vision of the ideal girl. Needless to say, his take on things is fairly unreliable. The second half of that book tells the story from the perspective of the captive, a far more reliable narrator, and yet one as oddly unsympathetic from the reader's perspective as the abductor's.
Pera turns Lolita on its head by making both characters unsympathetic, especially Humbert. During the course of the book, Lo evolves from a cruel girl lacking empathy (animal abuse runs in the family) to someone who seems to be gaining tolerance and perspective, while Humbert seems to devolve in the throes of his persnickety ways.
Lo's Diary is breathless trash, and should be enjoyed as such. The sex is not explicit (perhaps this fact also frustrated the critics). In fact, the book's most transgressive element is perhaps the depth of mother hatred that Lo exhibits. Her rantings and lashings and vicious fantasies directed at her pathetic mother are often wince-inducing and hilarious; and probably also contribute to the ire of readers and critics stuck on the notion of undying mother love.
You gotta love a book that devastates the Nabokov/Lolita sacred cow and drives the pompous literati apeshit, making Humbert half impotent and Lo the most calculating vixen.
The critics who say this doesn't read like a valid young teen's diary miss the point I think. Even if the voice and its sophistication of thought seem frequently above the level of what we'd expect from a 12- to- 14- year-old, the book's reconstruction of the sensibility of an angry adolescent is convincing.
Perhaps what some staunch Lolita defenders are also objecting to is that by telling the story from the other side, Pera has had to fill out some of the absurd conceits glossed over in Nabokov's original, the Hotel California-ish aspect of Clare Quility/Gerry Sue Filthy's surreal mansion, for instance. I never did like the Clare Quilty tangents in the original novel and by exploring them Pera possibly ends up showing why they don't really work in the original. In this version, Lo states up front that Humbert's version of the story of his rival for Lo's attention is overstated, which makes sense, given how unreliable a narrator Humbert was.
I have to admit, this book was a bit sluggish to start; Humbert doesn't enter the story until page 73. From there it picks up. If you can hang with this book -- messy and sometimes tedious though it may be -- and look at it with an open mind, you might appreciate its accomplishment.