Like with any anthology, they’re not all standouts. I was particularly bugged by a few that did that ~twist~ of reimagining things from the perspective of another character (Charlotte Haze; Cheryl Strayed doing a Dear Sugar letter written by Lolita at age 80-something; groan) and I didn’t love that a couple were by writers who’d never actually read Lolita, were asked to contribute, read it and wrote a piece in the aftermath. Every other piece basically serves as a testament to why this is a book you should mull over for awhile. A few get a little overanalytical or I just didn’t quite agree with the argument or it hardly seems worth making (like you’ll never convince me Lana Del Rey and her shtick convey a message worth hearing).
Complaints aside, the good in these was stellar. I loved that a common thread running through many, sometimes that the writers seemed to be working out themselves, was that this is a story of a too-common annihilation of a young girl by a too-common monster who hides in plain sight. I think that’s a truth many have trouble sitting with and is why people have such extreme negative reactions to the book. Some truths are really rough to know.
The varying cultural perspectives are what really make this valuable: Bosnian writer Aleksandar Hemon looks at Nabokov’s ability to bend his non-native language to his own singular usage, showing others who feel torn between cultures how they can use language to do this too, Iraqi activist Zainab Salbi writes about how it’s legally ok for girls as young as nine to marry adult men in Iraq, there’s a lot of thoughtful, insightful analysis of both flawed movie versions and their places in Americana as well as what damage they’ve done, looks at Nabokov’s personality and quirks and how astonishing that a Russian author could write a book in English that captures so much that’s so particularly, distinctly American. Many writers share their own experiences of various iterations of abuse, often how they process it through the lens of other stories, like Lolita.
The “afterlife” of the title is post #MeToo, by the way - according to Mary Gaitskill’s essay. So there’s a lot of examination of what this all means today, also post-Jeffrey Epstein, ideas around consent and triggers and everything else we’re discussing, and even the question of whether Lolita still deserves its high place in literary relevance today - Morgan Jerkins’ “Lolita, #MeToo, and Myself” ties so many of the concepts together brilliantly (and she studied Russian, HOW did I not know this, I must read everything of hers immediately).
Of course it deserves its renown, and not to be cancelled (apparently the New York literati wanted to at one recent point, and the consensus seems to be that despite its initial publishing difficulties, it wouldn’t be published at all today) but there are a lot of complicated things going on here, and I think it’s taken us this long to finally understand some of the messages at the core of Lolita, of what monsters and the quite ordinary destruction of women looks like and how men can get away with so much if they’re white and handsome and funny and really, only killing another white guy is the line too far, even if he was a pedophile too. And Nabokov wrapped it all in language so stunning and incomparable and beautiful that it’s easy to get lost in the poetics of it, even when you reread it while older and it feels much more horrifying.
This went longer than I intended and I’m still not sure I’ve said what I wanted to but this book made me feel a lot of things. Read these essays, they’re very good.