My little world

Lolita

Posted by forsakensoul on December 28, 2009

  Just my old Senior English final I found in my drafts…. figured I’d just post it.

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Ms. Douglass

English 12

June 7, 2008

   Lolita

 Pedophila is a topic of great controversy amongst parents. They don’t

want there child exposed to such dangers and don’t want such things to

happen to thier child. But for some people, it’s a interest or even

hobby. Though with the writings of Vladimir Nabokov in Lolita, it is

obviously still a very disturbing idea, but explain in a light not

often given. Should Lolita be kept from readers simply because it

revolves around the idea of Pedophilia and child molestation? No.

Lolita is still a captivating book that explain someones point of view

on life and how he deals with it.

As with all literature, many of the ideas and plot twists that supply

the excitement to this particular book are seen under a guise of the

particular generation that reads it. Not only do these ideas no longer

play an important part to the interpretation as it is transferred from

generation to generation, but many times the way in which a book is

written can affect the reader. The most prominent case of this

happening is in the works of Shakespeare. The ideas and plots he

present in his books are most often lost in our contemporary society as

we find not only his word usage, but also his themes to be archaic, and

unbarring on modern life. Such is the case of Nabokov’s Lolita.

There is one slight difference, however, between the writing of

Shakespeare, and the writing of Nabokov (and in particular Lolita). In

the writings of Shakespeare, one finds a sense of satire of the

hierarchy of England, and a sense of defiance toward the natural order

of things (in particular Romeo and Juliet’s defiance of fate). Nabokov,

instead, reaches toward a different audience for satire. He aims to

satire the middle class of contemporary America. This attempt at satire

gives Lolita its dynamic flow from decade to decade and generation to

generation because it allows each generation to interpret the book’s

meaning in a new and fresh way. Whereas Shakespeare satirizes an

institution and set of ideas that have always been resented by the

poorer classes, Nabokov instead decided to challenge a segment of

society that is by its very nature ever changing.

As much of the book is revolved around a middle class household,

Nabokov is forced to write a story which will be not only a reflection

of the evils of that household (represented by the relationships each

particular character brings to the text), but also the inherent

goodness that pop culture tells us is present in life. Because

Nabokov’s book is a direct reflection of the pop culture of the 1950’s,

reactions from audience to audience will forever change as the middle

class of not only America, but also the world, change faces and

morality in all areas of life. Unlike in Shakespeare, where he aims to

satire an institution that is and was disliked by the majority of

viewers, Nabokov aims directly to satire those who read his book. It is

this contradiction that leads to a generational gap as the book is

passed down from generation to generation.

But enough comparison between Shakespeare and Nabokov. With any piece

writen since the creation of the writen language, it’s always been a

challange on wether or not certain things should be kept from readers,

or free for everyone to read and form thier own opinion. With Nabokov’s

Lolita, his views on pedophelia are plainly expressed. And although

many people may not like his idea’s or they way he expresses them, they

are none-the-less just those; His expressions. And he’s free to express

such views under the first amendment in the United States Consitution.

But, Lolita is a french printed novel, and was first subject to it’s

restrictions on press and expression.

Although Lolita’s first printing of 5,000 copies sold out, there were

no notable reviews, and the book would likely have gone unnoticed for

some time had not respected author and critic Graham Greene, in an

interview published in the London Times, called it one of the best

books of the year. Greene’s statement outraged John Gordon, editor of

the popular Sunday Express, who responded in print, calling Lolita the

filthiest book I have ever read and sheer unrestrained pornography. The

British Home Office ordered customs officials to seize all copies

entering the United Kingdom and pressured the French Minister of the

Interior to ban the book. On December 20, 1956, the Paris police did

just this, and Lolita remained banned in France for two years.

However, The 1960’s proved to be more receptive of Nabokov and Lolita.

America was changing on different levels. The President had changed

again in 1960, now society was in the firm grip of Kennedy’s Camelot.

America’s involvement in Vietnam was beginning to heat up, thousands of

soldiers were being sent daily, and the American college system was

about to be rocked by protests not only about race, but about war. Life

in America was changing, and so was literature. So too was the public

view of Lolita.

Instead of being highbrow pornography, Lolita was soon becoming a

classic which, though still mostly misunderstood by those who it

attempted to satire, was beginning to take society in its grip. Nabokov

remembers a particularly disturbing incident involving the socializing

of Lolita. He was quite shocked when a little girl of 8 or 9 came to

his door for candy on Halloween, dressed up by her parents as Lolita.

Lolita would reach its most powerful grip on society in 1962 with the

release of Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of the story, with partial

scripting from Nabokov himself.

The movie continued the Lolita tradition of causing a disturbance to

the social status quo: When the novel Lolita was released, the smash

hit outraged many middle-classman because it dared to tell of love

between a middle-aged man and a twelve-year-old girl. The movie

represented a new path for Lolita to take as it ventured down the road

to infamy. The summer of 1962 presented the movie going public with one

of the greatest varieties of films to date. Possibly the most important

movies that came from that year were Lawrence of Arabia and To Kill A

Mockingbird.

With so much publicity and scrutiny, the story of Nabokov’s Lolita was

analysed in great detail by many critics and fellow writers. The story

behind Lolita was gripping and and entransing in my experience. Through

the eyes of Humbert Humbert was how the story was told to it’s readers;

but with what I consider a slight twist. It wasn’t the typical telling

of a narrator to a reader, but instead a narrator to a jury. A jury at

Humbert’s trial. The story begins with Humberts telling of his boy hood

summer at 14. And his first love Annabel Leigh, before her premature

death from typhus. Before the beginning of World War II Humbert leave

his home country of France, to New York, eventually ending up in the

small town of Ramsdale, New England in 1947. With the unfortunate

burning of the house he was booked to stay in, he ends up at the door

of Charlotte Haze, a widow,who has a sexually charged interpretation of

taking in a lodger. As the two make their way through Mrs. Haze’s tour

of the house, Humbert rehearses different ways of turning her down, but

then, after being led out into the garden, he spies Haze’s 12-year-old

daughter Dolores sunbathing in the garden. Throughout the novel Dolores

is refered to by many names, including Dolly, Lolita, Lola, Lo and L.

Humbert, seeing the Annabel Leigh in her, is instantly smitten with the

daughter and eagerly agrees to rent the room.

Charlotte becomes his unwitting pawn in his quest to make Lolita a part of his living fantasy. When Mrs. Haze drives Lolita off to summer camp, she leaves an ultimatum for Humbert, saying that he must marry her (for she has fallen madly in love with him) or move out. He is absolutely horrified at first, but after much contemplation he warms himself to the idea of living with Charlotte for the sole reason of making Lolita his stepdaughter, intending to use heavy sedatives on both her and her mother so he can express his sexual desire on Lolita in her sleep. Although we never learn specifically what he plans to do, he does say he wishes to keep her purity intact. Humbert marries Charlotte and they live a domestic lifestyle, with Charlotte completely oblivious to his distaste for her.

Humbert starts to write a diary in which he records his life in Ramsdale and, more specifically, his relationship with Lolita. He locks the diary in a drawer. While Lolita is away at camp and Humbert has gone into town, Charlotte opens the drawer and finds his diary, which details his lack of interest in her and impassioned lust for her daughter. Horrified and humiliated, Charlotte decides to flee with her daughter. Before doing so, she writes three letters — to Humbert, Lolita and a strict boarding school for young ladies to which she apparently intends to send her daughter. Charlotte confronts Humbert when he returns home. Retreating to the kitchen, he tells her that the diary entries are just notes for a novel. But Charlotte has already bolted from the house to post the letters. Crossing the street, she is struck and killed by a passing motorist. A child retrieves the letters and gives them to Humbert, who destroys them.

Humbert picks Lolita up from camp, telling her that her mother is desperately ill in a hospital, and takes her to The Enchanted Hunters, a hotel of regional repute, where he meets a strange man (later revealed to be Clare Quilty), who seems to know who he is. Humbert intends to use the sleeping pills on Lolita, but they have little effect. Instead, she seduces Humbert (the first of only two times she is recorded as doing so), and he discovers that he is not her first lover, as she had had a sexual affair at summer camp. After leaving the hotel, Humbert tells the now-troublesome Lolita that her mother is dead. Alone and frightened, Lolita has no choice but to accept Humbert into her life on his terms.

Driving Lolita around the country in Charlotte’s car, moving from state to state and motel to motel, Humbert bribes the girl for sexual favours; he falls genuinely in love with her, but is conscious that she is not attracted to him and shares none of his interests. She is, in fact, a very crass and ordinary adolescent, who merely puts up with him and is not above manipulating him sexually when she can. Eventually, the two settle down in another New England town, with Humbert posing as Lolita’s father and Lolita enrolled in a private girls’ school where the headmistress views Humbert’s possessive supervision as that of a strict, old-world European parent.

Humbert nevertheless is persuaded to allow Lolita to take part in a school theatrical club (extracting additional sexual favours from her in exchange for his permission). Ominously, the title of the play — The Enchanted Hunters — is identical to the name of the hotel where they technically became lovers. Lolita is enthusiastic about the play and is said to have impressed the playwright, who attended a rehearsal, but before opening night she and Humbert have a ferocious argument, and she bolts from the house. Found by Humbert a few minutes later, Lolita declares that she wants to immediately leave town and resume their travels. Humbert is delighted, but increasingly guarded as they again drive westward, nagged by a feeling that they are being followed and that Lolita knows who the follower is. He is right. Clare Quilty, an acquaintance of Charlotte’s, the nephew of the local dentist in Ramsdale, and the author of the play being performed at Lolita’s school, is himself a pedophile and amateur pornographer. He is tailing the couple in accordance with a secret plan of escape devised with Lolita. While Humbert becomes increasingly paranoid, Lolita becomes ill and recuperates in a nearby hospital. One night she checks out with her “uncle”, who has paid the hospital bill. Humbert, still clueless as to the identity of Lolita’s “abductor”, makes farcical and frantic attempts to find them by inspecting various motel-register aliases which have been laced by Quilty with insults and jokes flavored with literary allusions.

During this period, Humbert has a chaotic, two-year love-affair with a petite alcoholic named Rita who, at 30, is 10 years younger than him and a passable physical substitute for Lolita. By 1952, Humbert has settled down as a scholar at a small academic institute. One day, he receives a letter from Lolita, now 17, who tells him that she is married, pregnant and in desperate need of funds. Armed with a gun, Humbert, still driving Charlotte’s car, visits his young obsession and turns over to her the money she was due from her mother’s estate. He also asks her to leave with him, but she refuses. During their conversation, Lolita explains that her husband, a nearly deaf war-veteran and the father of her unborn child, was not her abductor, whereupon Humbert offers to give her all the money he has if she will reveal the man’s identity. Lolita complies, saying that she had really loved Clare Quilty, but that he threw her out after she refused to perform in a pornographic film he was making.

Leaving Lolita forever, Humbert surprises Quilty at his mansion. Quilty goes mad when he sees Humbert’s gun. After a mutually exhausting struggle for it, Quilty, now insane with fear, merely responds politely as Humbert repeatedly shoots him. He finally dies with a comical lack of interest, expressing his slight concern in an affected English accent. Humbert is left exhausted and disoriented. Arrested for murder, he writes the book he entitles Lolita or, The Confessions of a White Widowed Male, while awaiting trial. According to the novel’s fictional “Foreword”, Humbert dies of coronary thrombosis upon finishing his manuscript. He is thus unaware that Lolita dies, during childbirth, on Christmas Day, 1952.

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A Story

Posted by forsakensoul on April 30, 2009

The following is just something I’ve been doing in my spare time.
It follows a little bit of experience of a character I play on Eve Online.
It is neither done, nor do i expect it to be any semblence of “good”.
I’m trying out a new perspective when it comes to stories; If memory serves me well, i think it’s one of the 1st person views, i don’t remember exactly.

Here it is.

====================

Her neural synapses fired, time to wake up…

My neural pathways are slow, something must be wrong. I fully opened up the neural network and attempted to load up the interface to my pods systems.

Nothing.

Somethings wrong… I fumbled with my right hand along the wall, trying to reach the emergency release for my command pod. Stroking my fingers over the pad I orient my hand and type in the command.

9 4 C A C 0 1. Enter.

The pod began to hiss like and angry snake as it equalized the pressure of the pod to that of the outside. Finally it pops and the shell begins to open, all the while groaning in protest. It’s telling me it’s time for some maintenance, maybe later. The blue neon light of my command quarters begins to flood into the pod as the egg walls begin to open. Those blue lights always hit a soft spot in my heart. Bright enough to see what I need to, yet soft enough to not sting my sensitive eyes.

I was home.

No, not home. I have no home, not for a long while have I had a place that can be considered a home. A home is a place of warmth, of friends and of family. But this; this was a Tritanium box carved out of some small corner in a station lost within a universe of millions upon millions of similar structures. This was my little slice in this station though.

I glanced around my small quarters and noticed that my comm terminal was flashing an angry eye at me, someone was demanding my attention. What problem could there be for me to solve this time?…
=============================================================

I reach up behind my head and pull on the little release lever to disconnect the neural connectors melding me with my ships.
HISS. POP. “Neural connectors have been disengaged. Please exit with caution.” Came the reply from my lovely on-board Aura AI. I slowly inched my way out of the form fitting chair. After several squirming side to side maneuvers to release myself from my pod, I softly glided down the retractable ladder; and crashed faced first to the ground. I hate wobbly legs.

=============================================================

I slowly regain my posture, bracing myself on the railing nearby for support. After painfully stretching my legs hoping the pin needle pain would go away, and began to make my way to the refreshment station. After rummaging through the fridge I find a single can of Quafe soda in the back, cha ching! With my Quafe firmly in hand and my legs not in quite so much pain as before, I walk over to the console and plopped myself down at the chain and relaxed into the soft cushions.

=============================================================

I stared at the angry eye blinking at me from the consoles screen, not really wanting to see what problem I’d have to fix for someone else. But alas, the work is always needed, and on the rare occasion entertaining.
“Aura, please display all recent job forms in order of date sent and reverse it to display the most recent first.”
“As you wish Captain. Processing. Complete. First message is from Melina Orgrasani,” replied Aura’s mechanically melodic voice.
“Bring it up on the main monitor please, and decrease the ambient lighting by 50%.
“As you wish.”
As the lights dimmed down to a soft blue glow in the room, I focused my eyes towards the main monitor and began to read the request from Melina. She always gives me good jobs. This request is particularly short for a Melina job, strange, but a nice change; short requests usually means short jobs, something that suites me just fine for now. As I smile thinking out the upcoming easy mission, it slowly begins to fade on my face. Melina isn’t offering me a job, she’s sending me to someone else who has one. Strange, Melina’s never been known to send me to someone else. Bricle Frestru is his name. The request doesn’t say what the job is either.
Now I’m fully awake and extremely intrigued. Whats so important that she can’t tell me over the request? As I think about it, this mission doesn’t sound to bad, the unknown is always fun! After glancing through the rest of my mail and not finding anything real interesting I finish the rest of my Quafe and head to the refresher to clean up and switch into a new jumpsuit. After squaring everything in my quarters away I move onto the real dilemma; what ship am I gonna use for this exciting and unknown adventure!

=======================

I could take the Drake, it’s sturdy and it’s served me well over the years, but I might not
need that much firepower. Then again, what if I need more rather than less? Well, I could
always come back and change if needed I think as I stare out into my hanger, to my mechanical children.

The Drake, my Phoenix.

I do one last check to make sure the co-ordinents were transferred properly into my NavSat.
Then I walked over to the kitchen and bring out some cat food for my little girl, Samantha.
After that I begin to climb into my egg shell cocoon. Once the stinging pain of being
reconnected to the neural links fades, the hatch begins to slowly close, groaning and moaning the entire time. Yeah, they still hate me, but fixing it will have to wait till after the job.

I initiated the pod’s loading sequence, for a split second I can feel the motion of the pod
before the inertial dampeners fully engage as it moves down the loading tracks. After a few moments I get the green light that the pod has been successfully loaded into the Phoenix. A few more quick checks of the
systems, I do a quick peek of my drone compartment, full payload, excellent. All seven XR-3200 Heavy Missile Bays scanned and in the green, good. All point-to-point defence systems are online and ready to go. Secondary systems are all online and fully functional.
All systems engaged and ready to go. I begin the process to probe the stations Command and
Control Tower, no response. I bring up the comm systems screen and….. it’s offline!?

Whoops!

I knew I forgot something. After giggling at my own foolishness, I start up the comm system,
then repeat the process of probing the CCT. I then initiate the undocking cycle, and
I’m on my way!

After warping to the appropriate stargate, I proceed to the next gate, and so on and so
forth. This process goes on for several minutes, those minutes turn into hours…

========================

After a quick nap, or what could be considered a nap in such a position, I reengaged the
ships systems and began to plot a course away from the planetary orbit that I had myself in for my short rest. One last jump and I would be at the appropriate system for the meeting.

This last jump would also take me fairly deep into nul sec, the lawless land. Most people tend to stick to the “high sec” area which are patrolled and governed by a faction of “police” called CONCORD, because their afraid of venturing into lands that are controlled by no one. Not me. My ventures into such lands have, yes, been frought with danger at every turn; but that’s what made it such a great experience. Never knowing when your gonna find yourself in someones trap, or stumbling onto a few hardy pirates hanging about. It’s enough to get anyones heart pumping, and pumping fast!

I approach the gate and send the command to begin the jump process and get accelerated through the artificial wormhole that’s controlled by the Stargate. Once on the other side of the Stargate my external cameras and scanners come back online and the first thing that’s on my overview is a mess of ships not but 20 km from my current position. The scanners show them as various sized craft, two of them being carriers. But those were still well out of range of being a huge threat to me. But current threat are the ships at extreme range of me, and the Stargates cloak will only hide me for another minute. I quickly go through the options i have at hand. I could try and make a quick dash to align to my destination and hope that none of them have warp jammers equipped. But if these guys are here for a purpose, then they most certainly are fitted for anything. I’m to far away from the Stargate to hope to make a jump back before I was destroyed. I have a prototype cloak fitted in my secondary systems, but it’s never been tested before. But it seams to be the only option I have…

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Geez man…

Posted by forsakensoul on June 6, 2008

I just finished watching Meet The Spartans, and I would just like to say, I think the movie is utter idiocity. Normally I love comedy spoofs, but this one just had such cheap and bad humor that it cannot even be considered humorious. Thats all I have to say right now. I will probably have something to write about later on.

Posted in Life | 4 Comments »