Dear List,
As am in the midst of teaching
Lolita to my undergrads and find myself continually waylaid by the urge to annotate, particularly where it seems VN was not telling the whole truth to Appel (a la “Johnny Randall”). I was struck by the reference to Lepingville (the town beyond Briceland,
once the home of a famous 19th century poet) and Nabokov’s too pat answer that this was where people went butterfly hunting (lepping). I thought I would try the Germanic version (Lepburg, no luck) and the English (Lepington, much better). This
led me to Lord Lepington and a poem by Sir John Suckling. Only after pondering the poem for a good while did I notice, via Google, that Maurice Couturier (with an assist from SB) mentioned this connection back in 2008 (see below), though he did not explicitly
note the connection to Lepingville. I was gratified to see that a notecard exists which confirms the connection to Suckling’s poem. Since the poem itself was never mentioned specifically on the listserv (I assume it is examined in Couturier’s notes to the
French edition) I thought I would post it here:
http://books.google.com/books?id=3p2gboNUbe8C&dq=lepington&pg=PA20#v=onepage&q=lepington&f=false
To his much honoured the Lord Lepington,
upon his translation of Malvezzi, his
Romulus and Tarquin.
It is so rare and new a thing to see
Ought that belongs to young nobility
In print, but their own clothes, that we must praise
You as we would do those first show the ways
To arts or to new worlds. You have begun;
Taught travelled youth what 'tis it should have done
For't has indeed too strong a custom been
To carry out more wit than we bring in.
You have done otherwise: brought home, my lord,
The choicest things famed countries do afford:
Malvezzi by your means is English grown,
And speaks our tongue as well now as his own.
Malvezzi, he whom 'tis as hard to praise
To merit, as to imitate his ways.
He does not show us Rome great suddenly,
As if the empire were a tympany,
But gives it natural growth, tells how and why
The little body grew so large and high.
Describes each thing so lively that we are
Concerned ourselves before we are aware :
And at the wars they and their neighbours waged,
Each man is present still, and still engaged.
Like a good prospective he strangely brings
Things distant to us ; and in these two kings
We see what made greatness. And what't has been
Made that greatness contemptible again.
And all this not tediously derived,
But like to worlds in little maps contrived.
'Tis he that doth the Roman dame restore,
Makes Lucrece chaster for her being whore;
Gives her a kind revenge for Tarquin's sin ;
For ravish'd first, she ravisheth again.
She says such fine things after't, that we must
In spite of virtue thank foul rape and lust,
Since't was the cause no woman would have had,
Though she 's of Lucrece side, Tarquin less bad.
But stay ; like one that thinks to bring his friend
A mile or two, and sees the journey's end,
I straggle on too far ; long graces do
But keep good stomachs off, that would fall to.
This seems to me a very apt poem, as it relates to
Lolita. Humbert too seeks to give us his story in the manner of “natural growth,” telling us “how and why the little body [his lust, Lolita] grew so large and high.” And though his tale is foreign to our natures, he brings it to us “like a good prospective,”
showing us how his (perceived) greatness was made great and “made contemptible again.” Finally, the passage on Lucrece seems perfectly aligned with Humbert’s own desire for his narrative. Does he make Lolita “chaster for her being whore”? Does she get a “kind
revenge for [Humbert’s] sin”? And does the pleasure we derive from Humbert’s narrative make it so “we must in spite of virtue thank foul rape and lust”? Do even the gentlewomen of the jury think Humbert “less bad”?
Straggling on,
Matt Roth