Act One
Ramsdale, a pretty, sedate town with opulent shade trees. The time is around noon in early summer .
The words LAST DAY OF SCHOOL are gradually scrawled across the blackboard.
CUT TO:
Three Girls Near Bay Window:
Virginia McCoo (polio cripple, sharp features, strident voice); Phyllis Chatfield (chubby, sturdy); and a third girl (head turned away, tying her shoe).
VIRGINIA      (to Phyllis ) Well, Phyllis, what are your plans for the summer? Camp?
PHYLLIS      Yes, camp. My folks are going to Europe.
VIRGINIA      Getting rid of you, huh?
PHYLLIS      Oh well, I don’t mind. I like camp.
VIRGINIA      Same place—Lake Climax?
PHYLLIS      Same old place. And what about you, Ginny ?
VIRGINIA      I’m going to have a wonderful time. I’m going to have French lessons with our new paying guest.
PHYLLIS      Oh—has he come?
VIRGINIA      Coming tomorrow. My mother saw him in New York and she says he’s a real man of the world and awfully handsome. I guess it will be fun.
PHYLLIS      (to the third girl ) And you, Lolita?
Lolita turns toward them. A smile, a shrug.
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A Car Drives up to the School. Charlotte Haze Emerges .
LOLITA      There’s my dear mother.
CUT TO:
A Teacher Coming out meets Charlotte Coming in .
TEACHER      How are you, Mrs. Haze?
CHARLOTTE      Fine. And you, Miss Horton—glad to be rid of them until the fall?
TEACHER      I should say so. Now it’s Mama’s turn to take over. Is Lolita going to the Lake Climax camp?
CHARLOTTE      I don’t know. I sort of never got around to planning our summer yet .
CUT TO :
Charlotte Drives Lolita Homeward .
Heavy traffic. Red light.
LOLITA      Our luck as per usual. (Pause .)
Light changes
With our luck it is sure to be some ugly old hag.
CHARLOTTE      What are you talking about?
LOLITA      About the lodger you are trying to find.
CHARLOTTE      Oh, that . Well, I’m sure she will be a lovely person. When the time comes. The agency tells me it is going to be quite a season here this summer. What with the new casino.
LOLITA      Ginny McCoo was telling me about the roomer they are getting. He’s a professor of French poetry. And her uncle’s firm is going to publish a book he has written.
CHARLOTTE      We don’t want any French poets. Please , stop rummaging in that glove compartment.
LOLITA      I had some candy there.
CHARLOTTE      You are wrecking your teeth on those mints. By the way, you have not forgotten you have Dr. Quilty at three and—oh, darn that dog!
CUT TO :
Mr. Jung’s Dog, a Large Collie ,
waits at the corner of Lawn Street, then races the car barking lustily and nearly gets run over.
CHARLOTTE      Really, I am fed up with that beast.
CUT TO:
She Draws up at the Curb
where old Mr. Jung is inspecting the contents of his mailbox. Over his spectacles he peers at Mrs. Haze.
CHARLOTTE      (leaning out ) Mr. Jung, something must be done about that dog of yours.
Mr. Jung, beaming and a little gaga, walks around the car to her window.
CUT TO:
Lolita , leaning out of her side of the car,
fondly stroking the pleased hound and speaking confidentially—
LOLITA      And I think he is a good, good dog—yes, a good dog.
CUT TO :
Mr. Jung , who is a little deaf
and seems to listen with his mouth, comes closer to the driver’s window.
CHARLOTTE      I am talking about your dog. Something must be done about him .
MR. JUNG      Why? What’s he been up to?
CHARLOTTE      He’s a nuisance. He chases every car. He has taught two other dogs to do it.
MR. JUNG      He’s a gentle intelligent beast. Never hurt anybody. Most alert and intelligent.
CHARLOTTE      I’m not interested in his I.Q. All I know he’s a nuisance. And it will be your fault if he gets hurt.
MR. JUNG      He won’t hurt nobody. Come here, boy! You just don’t mind him, Mrs. Haze. Come, boy!
LOLITA      Mother, I’m hungry. Let’s be moving.
WIPE TO:
Dinner Time .
Quick view of Ramsdale. White church with clock against an inky sky. Lolita dines from a plate watching TV.
DISSOLVE TO:
A Ragged Sunset .
The plashing lake. A thunderhead looming.
Details of approaching electric storm: an empty milk bottle overturned by a gust.
The wind brutally turns the pages of the mangled magazine forgotten on the folding chair. It is suddenly whisked away in rotating mad flight .
Nightfall. Lolita barefooted hastens to close a bedroom window. Lightning. Charlotte folds and drags in the garden chair. The thunder claps and rolls. Another flash.
CUT TO:
LOLITA      (undressed, on landing, to her mother downstairs ) I’m going to bed. I’m scared!
Big Thunderclap
CUT TO:
Charlotte in the Living Room .
The storm never stops. Far away the fire engine is heard. Nearer. Far again. Charlotte looks out of the window. Details of nocturnal storm: gesticulating black trees, rain drumming on roof, thunder, lightning printing reflections on wall, Lolita sits up in bed. More sounds of firefighting.
CUT TO :
A Car ,
shedding its moving beam on 342 Lawn Street, and then on 345 Lawn Street, turns in to the driveway next door. The Farlows, John and Jean. The storm is abating.
JEAN      John, while you are parking the car I’ll dash over to Charlotte and tell her——
JOHN      Oh, but she must be fast asleep.
JEAN      No, she’s in the living room. The lights are on.
CUT TO :
Charlotte, Who has noticed their return , opens the front door.
A cat’s eyes in the dripping-dark. Sheet lightning.
JEAN      Oh, what’s that cat doing there? Have you heard about the fire, Charlotte?
CHARLOTTE      I heard the engines.
JEAN      Well, it was at the McCoos’.
CHARLOTTE      No!
JEAN      Yes. Their house got struck by lightning. We were at John’s club and could see the blaze five blocks away.
CHARLOTTE      My goodness! Are they safe?
JEAN      Oh yes, they’re okay. They even saved the TV. But the house is practically a burnt-out shell.
CHARLOTTE      But how dreadful!
JEAN      Naturally they were insured and all that—and they have that apartment in Parkington. Well, see you tomorrow. Bye-bye.
CUT TO:
Early Morning Next Day .
Robin pulling out worm on damp lawn. One new dandelion. Milkman collects empty bottles. Tinkle. Telephone takes over, rings .
Lolita in pajamas, barefoot, leaning over banisters, half a story above Charlotte, who attends to the telephone in the hallway. The conversation is nearing its end. We hear only her side.
CHARLOTTE      I certainly could, Mr. McCoo. Oh, I just keep thinking and thinking of you and that dreadful fire——
(Listens .)
No trouble at all. In fact it’s just the kind of lodger——
(Listens .)
Yes, I see. Yes, of course.
(Listens .)
Well, I’m glad he’s old-fashioned enough to prefer lakes to oceans. That means a quiet lodger.
(Laughs demurely .)
(Listens .)
Oh, I could fetch him if you’d like.
(Listens .)
I see.
(Listens .)
Look, why don’t you meet him at the station, explain things to him, put him into Joe’s taxi, and send him over here .
(Listens .)
Aha. Naturally. I understand that.
(Listens .)
Okay then. I’ll be expecting him around noon.
(Listens .)
Not at all, not at all (melodious laugh ). Everything in the world happens at short notice.
(Listens .)
Yes, do that. You know, I could not sleep all night thinking of that dreadful fire and your poor wife. You’re so right to have sent her and Ginny to Parkington. Well, please do tell your wife that if there’s anything I can do——
(Hangs up .)
LOLITA      Mother, is that man going to stay with us?
CHARLOTTE      He is. Oh dear, Louise is not coming until after tomorrow. You had better get dressed and pick up all those books and things you brought back from school. The hall is a mess.
CUT TO :
Humbert’s Arrival
FADE I N
Ramsdale (a thriving resort, somewhere between Minnesota and Maine )
as seen by a traveler arriving by plane. We are served the dish of the large, pine-fringed, scintillating Ramsdale Lake, with, at one end, a recreation park and a stucco pleasure dome. A small cloud of dark smoke is hanging over part of the suburban development. Beyond this is the cheerful, neat-looking town in the sunshine of a serene May morning. The airport spreads out beneath us, flying its flags and gently gyrating as the plane’s shadow sweeps over it.
CUT TO:
Alfalfa Fields, Asphalted Spaces, Parked Cars: Ramsdale Airport
Humbert carrying briefcase lands and enters the office. His bags follow. He looks around.
HUMBERT      Somebody was supposed to meet me.…
He consults a little black diary.
DESK CLERK      Can I help you, sir?
HUMBERT      May I use this phone?
He attempts to dial McCoo’s number. Consults his diary again. Redials. There is no answer.
HUMBERT      Funny. (to the clerk ) Where can I find a taxi?
CLERK      (pointing with pencil ) Down there. He’ll take your bags .
CUT TO :
Humbert in Taxi
They cross the town and turn in to Lake Avenue. Sounds of fire engines. Firefighters going back to their station.
TAXI DRIVER      We sure had a big storm last night. Lightning struck a house in Lake Avenue, and oh boy, did it burn!
(does a double take )
Say, mister, what number you said you were going?
HUMBERT      Nine hundred. Nine oh oh.
TAXI DRIVER      (chuckling ) Well, “oh-oh” is about all that’s left of it.
CUT TO:
The Black, Hosewater-drenched, Still Smoking Remains of a Burned-Down House
Policemen are still keeping away a thinning crowd of spectators, most of whom have come by car or bicycle. The charred ruins are those of the McCoo villa in a pine-treed, sparsely populated part of Lake Avenue. Humbert’s taxi stops at a roped-off puddle.
TAXI DRIVER      (continuously indulging in raw, ready humor ) Here you are, sir.
HUMBERT      My goodness! You mean this is the McCoo residence?
TAXI DRIVER      Residence? Oh, brother !
Humbert, automatically carrying raincoat and briefcase, climbs out of the car. Faint cheers from the crowd.
PATROLMAN      You can’t come any closer.
HUMBERT      I’m supposed to live here.
PATROLMAN      Why don’t you speak to the owner? That’s Mr. McCoo down there.
(In the following scene the grotesque humor turns upon McCoo’s conducting a kind of guided tour through a nonexistent house. He makes the belated honors of the home Humbert would have shared.) McCoo, a small fat man, emerges from the ruins of the patio. He staggers along with a big barbecue roaster in his arms. He is dirty and wet, and utterly bewildered. He stops and stares at Humbert.
HUMBERT      How do you do. I am your lodger. Or rather I was to be your lodger.
McCOO      (setting down his burden ) What do you know! Mr. Humbert, I must apologize. I thought my wife would leave you a message at the airport. I know she found other lodgings for you. Look at this dreadful disaster.
He gestures toward architectural ghosts in the aura of the vanished villa.
McCOO      Follow me. Look, sir, look. Your room was right here. A beautiful, sunny, quiet studio. That was your bed—with a brand-new mattress. Here you had a writing desk—you see, that’s where the wall ran—where that hose lies now .
Humbert blankly considers a heap of water-soaked volumes.
McCOO      Ginny’s encyclopedia. (Glances up at a nonexistent upper story .) Must have dropped through the floor of my daughter’s room. Good illustrations. Cathedrals. Cocoa Industry. It’s a wonder that bolt did not kill Mrs. McCoo and me in the master bedroom. Our little daughter was quite hysterical. Oh, it was such a lovely home. A regular showpiece. People came all the way from Parkington to see it.
Humbert stumbles over a board.
McCOO      Careful. I know there is not much left but I’d like you to see the patio. Here was the barbecue table. Well, that’s all out now. I had planned to have you give lessons in French to my little Ginny, the poor pet. I’ve bundled them off to Parkington. And of course I’m fully insured. But still it’s a terrible shock. Now, about that other place for you——
McCoo, wiping a dirty face with a dirty hand, walks back to the street with carefully high-stepping Humbert. The camera escorts them.
McCOO      We thought that other place would be the best arrangement, under these sad circumstances. We all have to rough it now. She’s a widow, a delightful personality with a lot of culture. But it’s not as grand as here, though much nearer to town. The address is 342 Lawn Street. Let me direct your taxi. Hullo, Joe.
CUT TO:
Hysterical Bark of a car-chasing Collie on Lawn Street, down which Humbert’s taxi arrives to stop at No. 342, an unattractive white clapboard suburban house, with a smooth philistine lawn where only one dandelion has survived the leveling power mower. Humbert emerges, watched by Charlotte from an upper window. The driver is about to help with the suitcases.
HUMBERT      No, leave those bags. I want you to wait a few minutes.
DRIVER      Sure.
HUMBERT      I doubt very much that I’ll stay here. (in vocal brackets ) What a horrible house.
The door is ajar. Humbert enters. The hallway is graced with Mexican knicknacks and the banal favorites of arty middle-class (such as a Van Gogh reproduction). An old tennis racket with a broken string lies on an oak chest. There is a telephone on a small table near the living-room door, which is ajar.
From the upper landing comes the voice of Mrs. Haze, who leans over the banisters inquiring melodiously: “Is that Monsieur Humbert?”
A bit of cigarette ash drops from above as Humbert looks up. Presently the lady herself—sandals, slacks, silk blouse, Marlenesque face (in that order)—comes down the steps, her index finger still tapping upon the cigarette.
Shake hands.
HUMBERT      How do you do. Allow me to explain the situation .
CHARLOTTE      Yes—I know everything. Come on in.
CUT TO:
Humbert and Charlotte enter the parlor
She makes Javanese-like gestures: inviting him to choose a seat. (N.B.: these gestures will be repeated by Dolly Schiller in last scene of play). They sit down.
CHARLOTTE      Let’s get acquainted and then I’ll show you your room. I have only Dromes.
HUMBERT      Thanks, I don’t smoke.
CHARLOTTE      Oh well, one vice the less. I’m a tissue of little vices. C’est la vie . (Lights up .) You’re sure you’re comfortable in that old chair?
He removes from under his thigh an old tennis ball.
HUMBERT      Oh, perfectly.
CHARLOTTE      (relieving him of the ball ) I think, Mr. Humbert, I have exactly what you are looking for. I understand you wanted to stay at Ramsdale all summer?
HUMBERT      I’m not sure. No, I really could not say. The point is I have been very ill, and a friend suggested Ramsdale. I imagined a spacious house on the shore of a lake.
The CAMERA meanwhile examines ironically various crannies of the room.
CHARLOTTE      Well, the lake is only two miles from my spacious house .
HUMBERT      Oh, I know. But I envisaged a villa, white dunes, the accessible ripples, a system of morning dips.
CHARLOTTE      Frankly, between you and I, the McCoo residence, though perhaps a bit more modern than mine, is not at all on the lake front, not at all. You have to walk two blocks to see it.
HUMBERT      Oh, I’m sure there would have been some flaw, some disappointment. What I mean is that I was pursuing a particular dream, not any house but that house.
CHARLOTTE      I’m sorry for the McCoos—but they should not have promised too much. Well, I can offer you congenial surroundings in a very select neighborhood. If you like golf, as I am sure you do, we are practically at walking distance from the country club. And we are very intellectual, yes sir. You are a professor of poetry, aren’t you?
HUMBERT      Alas. I shall be teaching at Beardsley College next year.
CHARLOTTE      Then you will certainly want to address our club, of which I am a proud member. Last time we had Professor Amy King, a very stimulating teacher type, talk to us on Dr. Schweitzer and Dr. Zhivago. Now let us take a peek at that room. I’m positive you’re going to love it.
CUT TO:
Charlotte and Humbert reach the upper landin g
CHARLOTTE      It’s what you might call a semi-studio—or almost a semi-studio.
She closes quickly the door to Lolita’s room, which is ajar, and opens a door opposite.
CHARLOTTE      Well here we are. Isn’t that a cute bookshelf? Look at those colonial book ends. Now, in that corner (meditative pause, with elbow in palm ) I shall put our spare radio set.
HUMBERT      No, no. Please, no radio.
He winces as he glances at a picture: a reproduction of René Prinet’s “Kreutzer Sonata”—the unappetizing one in which a disheveled violinist passionately embraces his fair accompanist as she rises from her piano stool with clammy young hands still touching the keys.
CHARLOTTE      Now, that’s a rug Mr. Haze and I bought in Mexico. We went there on our honeymoon, which was—let me see—thirteen years ago.
HUMBERT      Which was about the time I got married.
CHARLOTTE      Oh, you are married?
HUMBERT      Divorced, madam, happily divorced.
CHARLOTTE      Where was that? In Europe?
HUMBERT      In Paris.
CHARLOTTE      Paris must be wonderful at this time of the year. As a matter of fact, we were planning a trip to Europe just before Mr. Haze died, after three years of great happiness. He was a lovely person, a man of complete integrity. I know you would have enjoyed talking to him and he to you. Now, here we have——
Humbert opens a closet. A painted screen of the folding type topples into his arms. Pictured on it is a nymphet in three repeated designs: (1) gazing over a black gauze fan, (2) in a black half-mask, (3) in bikini and harlequin glasses. There is a rent in the fabric.
CHARLOTTE      Oops! I am sorry. We bought it at the store here to match our Mexican stuff but it did not wear well. I’ll have Lolita remove it to her room. She loves it.
HUMBERT      You have a maid living in the house?
CHARLOTTE      Oh no, what do you think? Ramsdale is not Paris. There’s a colored girl who comes three times a week and we think we’re lucky to have her. I see this bed-lamp does not work. I’ll have it fixed.
HUMBERT      But I thought you said——
Carefully and rather wistfully, Charlotte closes the door of the unsuccessful room. She opens another door next to it.
CHARLOTTE      This is the bathroom. I’m sure that as a European intellectual you hate our luxurious modern monstrosities—tiled tubs and goldern faucets. This here is a good old-fashioned type with the kind of quaint plumbing that should appeal to an Englishman. I must apologize for this dirty sock. Now, if we walk down again I’ll show you the dining room—and, of course, my beautiful garden .
HUMBERT      I understood there would be a private bath.
CHARLOTTE      Sorry.
HUMBERT      I don’t want to take so much of your time. It must be a frightful bother——
CHARLOTTE      No bother at all.
Humbert and Charlotte walk via the parlor into the dining room, the camera trucking with them.
CHARLOTTE      Here we have our meals. Down there is the sun porch. Well, that’s about all, cher Monsieur .
(sigh )
I’m afraid you are not too favorably impressed.
HUMBERT      I must think it over. I have a taxi waiting out there. Let me take down your telephone number.
CHARLOTTE      Ramsdale 1776. So easy to remember. I won’t charge you much, you know. Two hundred per month, all meals included.
HUMBERT      I see. Didn’t I have a raincoat?
CHARLOTTE      I saw you leave it in the car.
HUMBERT      So I did. Well——
He bows.
CHARLOTTE      Oh, but you must visit my garden!
Humbert follows her .
CHARLOTTE      That’s the kitchen there. You might like to know I’m a very good cook. My pastries win prizes round here.
Humbert follows Charlotte to the veranda. Now comes the shock of dazzling enchantment and recognition. “From a mat in a pool of sun, half-naked, kneeling turning about on her knees, my Riviera love was peering at me over dark glasses.”
It might be a good idea at this point to film the extended metaphor of the next paragraph: “As if I were the fairy-tale nurse of some little princess—lost, kidnapped, discovered in Gypsy rags through which her nakedness smiled at the king and his hounds, I recognized the tiny dark-brown mole on her side.” Humbert, much disturbed, follows Charlotte down into the garden.
CHARLOTTE      That was my daughter, and these are my lilies.
HUMBERT      (mumbling ) Beautiful, beautiful.…
CHARLOTTE      (with winsome abandon ) Well, this is all I can offer you—a comfortable home, a sunny garden, my lilies, my Lolita, my cherry pies.
HUMBERT      Yes, yes. I’m very grateful. You said fifty per week, including meals?
CHARLOTTE      So you are going to stay with us?
HUMBERT      Why—yes. I’d like to move in right now.
CHARLOTTE      You dear man. That’s wonderful. Was my garden the decisive factor ?
CUT TO :
Veranda where Lolita , in briefs and bra, is sunning herself on the mat
Charlotte and Humbert returning to the house mount the steps from the garden.
CHARLOTTE      I’ll pay your taxi and have the luggage put in your room. Do you have many things?
HUMBERT      There’s a briefcase and a typewriter, and a tape recorder, and a raincoat. And two suitcases. May I——
CHARLOTTE      No, it’s okay. I know from Mrs. McCoo that you are not supposed to carry things.
HUMBERT      Oh yes, and there’s also a box of chocolates I intended to bring the McCoos.
Charlotte smiles and exits.
LOLITA      Yum-yum.
HUMBERT      So you are Lolita.
LOLITA      Yes, that’s me.
Turns from sea-star supine to seal prone. There is a pause.
HUMBERT      It’s a beautiful day.
LOLITA      Very.
HUMBERT      (sitting down on the steps ) Nice here. Oh, the floor is hot .
LOLITA      (Pushes a cushion toward him .) Make yourself comfortable.
She is now in a half-sitting position.
LOLITA      Did you see the fire?
HUMBERT      No, it was all over when I came. Poor Mr. McCoo looked badly shaken.
LOLITA      You look badly shaken yourself.
HUMBERT      Why, no. I’m all right. I suppose I should change into lighter clothes. There’s a ladybird on your leg.
LOLITA      It’s a ladybug, not a ladybird.
She transfers it to her finger and attempts to coax it into flight.
HUMBERT      You should blow. Like this. There she goes.
LOLITA      Ginny McCoo—she’s in my class, you know. And she said you were going to be her tutor.
HUMBERT      Oh, that’s greatly exaggerated. The idea was I might help her with her French.
LOLITA      She’s grim, Ginny.
HUMBERT      Is she—well, attractive?
LOLITA      She’s a fright. And mean. And lame.
HUMBERT      Really? That’s curious. Lame ?
LOLITA      Yah. She had polio or something. Are you going to help me with my homework?
HUMBERT      Mais oui , Lolita. Aujourd’hui?
Charlotte comes in.
CHARLOTTE      That’s where you are.
LOLITA      He’s going to help me with my homework.
CHARLOTTE      Fine. Mr. Humbert, I paid your taxi and had the man take your things upstairs. You owe me four dollars thirty-five. Later, later. Dolores, I think Mr. Humbert would like to rest.
HUMBERT      Oh no, I’ll help her with pleasure.
Charlotte leaves.
LOLITA      Well, there’s not much today. Gee, school will be over in three weeks.
A pause.
HUMBERT      May I—I want to pluck some tissue paper out of that box. No, you’re lying on it. There—let me—thanks.
LOLITA      Hold on. This bit has my lipstick on it.
HUMBERT      Does your mother allow lipstick?
LOLITA      She does not. I hide it here .
She indraws her pretty abdomen and produces the lipstick from under the band of her shorts.
HUMBERT      You’re a very amusing little girl. Do you often go to the lake shore? I shaw—I mean, I saw that beautiful lake from the plane.
LOLITA      (lying back with a sigh ) Almost never. It’s quite a way. And my mummy’s too lazy to go there with me. Besides, we kids prefer the town pool.
HUMBERT      Who is your favorite recording star?
LOLITA      Oh, I dunno.
HUMBERT      What grade are you in?
LOLITA      This a quiz?
HUMBERT      I only want to know more about you. I know that you like to solarize your solar plexus. But what else do you like?
LOLITA      You shouldn’t use such words, you know.
HUMBERT      Should I say “what you dig” ?
LOLITA      That’s old hat.
Pause. Lolita turns over on her tummy. Humbert, awkwardly squatting, tense, twitching, mutely moaning, devours her with sad eyes; Lolita, a restless sunbather, sits up again.
HUMBERT      Is there anything special you’d like to be when you grow up ?
LOLITA      What?
HUMBERT      I said——
Lolita, eyes shuttling, listens to the telephone ringing in the remote hallway and to her mother attending to it.
LOLITA      (yelling ) Mother, is it for me?
HUMBERT      I said what would you like to be?
Charlotte enters from dining room. Humbert, interrupted in his furtive lust, scrambles up guiltily.
CHARLOTTE      It’s Kenny. I suspect he wants to escort you to the big dance next month.
Lolita, groping, skipping on one foot, half-shod, shedding beach slipper, whirling, taking off, bumping into humid Humbert, laughing, exits barefoot.
CHARLOTTE      I’ll be driving downtown in a few minutes. Like me to take you somewhere? Like to see Ramsdale?
HUMBERT      First I’d like to change. I never thought it would be so warm in Ramsdale.
CUT TO :
Humbert’s Room . A few days have elapsed.
Humbert jots down last night’s dream: A somewhat ripply shot reveals: a knight in full armor riding a black horse along a forest road. Three nymphets, one lame, are playing in a sun-shot glade. Nymphet Lolita runs toward Humbert, the Dark Knight, and promptly seats herself behind. His visor closes again. At a walking pace they ride deeper into the Enchanted Forest.
DISSOLVE TO NEXT ENTRY:
We are on the piazza. Humbert takes up a strategic position in rocker, with voluminous Sunday paper, in the vicinity of two parallel mats. He rocks and feigns to read. Exaggerate the volume of the paper.
Mother and daughter, both in two-piece bathing suits, come to sun themselves.
CUT TO:
Charlotte transposes jar of skin cream from farther mat (mat 2) to nearer mat (mat 1) and sits down on mat 1. Lolita yanks the comics section, and the family section, and the magazine section out of Humbert’s paper and makes herself comfortable on mat 2.
There is an area of shade beyond her. Into this area Humbert, the furtive writer, gently rocking arrives in his ambling chair. He is now near Lolita.
Mother, far, supine, on mat 1 (now the farthest) lavishly anointed, exhibits herself to the sun; daughter, near, prone, on mat 2, showing Humbert her narrow nates and the seaside of her thighs, is immersed in the funnies.
Tenderly, the rocker rocks.
A mourning dove coos.
Charlotte gropes for her cigarettes but they are on mat 2, nearer to Humbert. She half rises and transfers herself to a new position, between him and her daughter, whom she shoves onto mat 1 .
Charlotte, now on mat 2, near Humbert, fusses with lighter and casts a look at what he is grimly perusing: book review, a full-page ad:
WHEN THE LILACS LAST
most controversial novel of the year, 300,000 copies in print.
CHARLOTTE      Have you read that? When the Lilacs Last .
Humbert (Clears his throat negatively .)
CHARLOTTE      Oh, you should. It was given a rave review by Adam Scott. It’s about a man from the North and a girl from the South who build up a beautiful relationship—he is her father image and she is his mother image, but later she discovers that as a child she had rejected her father, and of course then he begins to identify her with his possessive mother. You see, it works out this way: he symbolizes the industrial North, and she symbolizes the old-fashioned South, and——
LOLITA      (casually ) and it’s all silly nonsense.
CHARLOTTE      Dolores Haze, will you go up to your room at once.
THREE WEEKS LATER, THE DAY OF THE SCHOOL DANCE.
FADE IN:
Kitchen—the Cat and the Morning Milk are let in
Charlotte, dainty-aproned, prepares breakfast for Humbert. He enters, wearing a silk jacket with frogs .
HUMBERT      Good morning.
He sits down at the breakfast-niche table. Puts his elbows on it and meditates.
CHARLOTTE      Your bacon is ready.
Humbert considers the calendar on the wall and reaches into his back pocket for his wallet.
HUMBERT      My fourth week starts today.
CHARLOTTE      The time certainly flies. Monsieur is served.
HUMBERT      Fifty, and the eight twenty I owe you for the wine.
CHARLOTTE      No, it’s sixty-two thirty-five: I paid for the Glance subscription, remember?
HUMBERT      Oh, I thought I had settled that.
He settles.
CHARLOTTE      Well, today is the big party. I bet she’ll be pestering me all morning with her dance dress.
HUMBERT      Isn’t that rather normal?
CHARLOTTE      Oh, yes. Definitely. I am all for these formal affairs. It may suggest to the hoyden she is some elements of gracious living.
(Sits down at the table . )
On the other hand—this is the end of that blessed era, school year. After which we’ll be in for a period of slouching, disorganized boredom, vehement griping, feigned gagging, and all the rest of it.
HUMBERT      Hm. Aren’t you exaggerating a bit?
CHARLOTTE      Oh, I leave that to her. Exaggerating is all hers. How I hate that diffused clowning—what they call “goofing off.” In my day, which after all was only a couple of short decades ago, I never indulged in that sprawling, droopy, dopy-eyed style.
Lolita’s voice is heard calling from the stairs.
CHARLOTTE      (making a grimace of resignation ) See what I mean?
(to Lolita )
Yes? What is it?
LOLITA      (carrying a slip ) You promised to fix this.
CHARLOTTE      Okay. Later.
LOLITA      (to Humbert ) Well: coming to our hop?
CHARLOTTE      My daughter means: Do you intend to attend her school dance.
HUMBERT      I understood. Yes, thank you.
CHARLOTTE      We parents are not supposed to dance, of course.
LOLITA      What do you mean “we” ?
CHARLOTTE      (flustered ) Oh, I mean adults. Parents and their friends.
Lolita exits singing.
HUMBERT      When does it start?
CHARLOTTE      Around four. I have some nice cold chicken for you afterwards.
(seeing him rise )
Back to Baudelaire?
HUMBERT      Yes. I wanted to write in the garden but our neighbor’s gardener has again set loose his motor mower or whatever you call it. It’s deafening and sickening.
CHARLOTTE      I always think of it as an exhilarating, cheerful kind of sound. It brings back heaps of green summers and that kind of thing.
HUMBERT      You Americans are immune to noise.
CHARLOTTE      Anyway, Lesley stops work at noon, and you’ll have lots of time before the party.
CUT TO:
The Garden
Humbert in the leafy shade, writes in his little black book. Mourning doves moan, cicadas whirr, a jet beyond sight and sound leaves its twin wakelines of silvery chalk in the cloudless sky. A mother’s voice is heard calling somewhere up the street: “Rosy! Ro-sy!” It is a very pleasant afternoon. Humbert consults his watch and glances up at the house. He gets up and strolls around, quietly trying to locate Lolita, whose voice is heard now in one room, now in another, while radio music comes from a third. Presently the bath water is heard performing, filling the tub, and then emptying into the drain. Humbert assembles his papers and walks to the house.
CUT TO:
The Living Room
Humbert feigning to read a magazine. Lolita swishes into the room wearing a pale billowy-skirted dance dress and pale satin pumps. She gracefully gyrates in front of Humbert.
LOLITA      Well? Do you like me?
HUMBERT      (a phony judge ) Very much.
LOLITA      Adoration? Beauty in the mist? Too dreamy for words?
HUMBERT      I am often amazed at your verbal felicity, Lolita.
LOLITA      Check my back zipper, will you?
HUMBERT      There’s some talc on your shoulder blades. May I remove it?
LOLITA      It depends.
HUMBERT      There.
LOLITA      Silly boy.
HUMBERT      I am three times your age .
LOLITA      Tell it to Mom.
HUMBERT      Why?
LOLITA      Oh, I guess you tell her everything.
HUMBERT      Wait a minute, Lolita. Don’t waltz. A great poet said: Stop, moment——. You are beautiful.
LOLITA      (feigning to call ) Mother!
HUMBERT      Even when you play the fool.
LOLITA      That’s not English.
HUMBERT      It’s English enough for me.
LOLITA      D’you think this dress will make Kenny gulp?
HUMBERT      Who’s Kenny?
LOLITA      He’s my date for tonight. Jealous?
HUMBERT      In fact, yes.
LOLITA      Delirious? Dolly-mad?
HUMBERT      Yes, yes. Oh, wait!
LOLITA      And she flew away.
She flies away.
CUT TO :
The Landing
Humbert in a flannel suit and Charlotte in a glamorous gown (from Rosenthal, The Rose of Ramsdale, 50 South Main Street).
HUMBERT      Are we supposed to pick up her young man?
CHARLOTTE      No. He said he’d call for her. He lives two blocks from here. I’ll bet she’ll be prettying herself up to the last moment.
CUT TO:
The Driveway, Facing the Garage
Kenny helps Lolita to get into the back of the Haze two-door sedan. On the other side Humbert opens the driver’s door for Charlotte. Daughter and Mother settle down with the same preenings, the same rhythm of rustle and rerustle. Humbert starts walking around the car. Charlotte turns to Kenny, who is about to join Lolita.
CHARLOTTE      It’s the new building, isn’t it?
KENNY      Yes, ma’am.
CHARLOTTE      And Chestnut Street is closed for repairs?
KENNY      Yes. You have to turn after the church.
CHARLOTTE      Church? I thought it was the other way. Let me see—
LOLITA      Look, Kenny, why don’t you get in beside Mother and direct her ?
CHARLOTTE      Don’t bother. I’ll find it.
LOLITA      No, you won’t. Please, Ken. And you come here.
Pats the seat next to her for Hum. Humbert, not without hitting his head against the lintel, climbs in and arranges his long limbs beside Lolita’s bouffant skirt. The backrest of the passenger seat is pushed into place by Kenny who briskly seats himself next to Charlotte. She gives vent to her irritation by getting into reverse gear so abruptly that Lolita’s purse leaps off her lap. Lolita and Humbert fumble for it.
LOLITA      (laughing ) Easy, Mother.
CHARLOTTE      (controlling herself ) No backseat driving, children.
And that is how Humbert obtains a few minutes of secret alliance with the nymphet. Deliberately, Lolita lets her hand rest on his, lets it slip into his, be enveloped by his.
CUT TO:
The New Hall
School punch and cookies are served in the gallery where teachers, parents, and their friends stand around in more or less garrulous groups. Music comes from the adjacent room, where the children are dancing. Charlotte introduces Humbert to the Chatfields.
CHARLOTTE      Ann, I want you to meet Professor Humbert, who is staying with us. Mrs. Chatfield, Mr. Chatfield.
How do you do’s are exchanged .
MRS. CHATFIELD      (to Charlotte ) Your Lolita looks perfectly enchanting in that cloud of pink. And the way she moves.… Oh, my!
CHARLOTTE      Thank you. And I was about to compliment you on your Phyllis. She’s a darling. I understand you are sending her to the Climax Lake camp next week?
MRS. CHATFIELD      Yes. It’s the healthiest place in the world. Run by a remarkable woman who believes in natural education. Which, of course, is progressive education combined with nature.
CHARLOTTE      Say, who is that gentleman in the fancy waistcoat whom those women are mobbing? He looks familiar to me.
MRS. CHATFIELD      Oh, Charlotte! That’s Clare Quilty, the playwright.
CHARLOTTE      Of course. I quite forgot that our good old dentist had such a distinguished nephew. Didn’t you adore his play which they had on the TV, The Nymphet?
CUT TO:
Another Part of the Gallery
In the meantime, after some dreary small talk with Mr. Chatfield (Chatfield: I hear, Professor, you’re going to teach at Beardsley College. I believe the wife of our president—I work for the Lakewood corporation—majored there in Home Economics.), Humbert drifts away. He wanders toward the dance floor and watches Lolita. The second or third slow dance has terminated and now a more boisterous strain hits the eardrum. Kenny and Lolita go through an energetic rock ‘n’ roll. Humbert leans his shoulder against a pillar. The camera picks out his Adam’s apple.
CUT TO:
The Refreshments Table Near Which Charlotte Stands
She casts a questing look around. She has lost Humbert. Two gigglers in full skirts rustle past rapidly, heading for the ballroom.
FIRST GIRL      (to second ) D’you know who that was? Clare Quilty! Oh, gosh, I got a real bang out of seeing him.
Charlotte’s roving eye meets the gaze of the English teacher, Miss Adams, in the Quilty group. Miss Adams beckons to her. Charlotte floats thither. Introductions. Quilty is a tremendously successful phony, fortyish, roguish, baldish, with an obscene little mustache and a breezy manner which some find insulting and others just love.
CHARLOTTE      Oh, but I have met Mr. Quilty before.
(Elegantly appropriates him .)
Mr. Quilty, I’m a great fan of yours.
QUILTY      Ah yes—ah yes——
CHARLOTTE      We met two years ago——
QUILTY      (ironically purring ) An eternity——
CHARLOTTE      We had that luncheon in your honor at the club— —
QUILTY      I can imagine it better than I recall it——
CHARLOTTE      And afterwards I showed you my garden and drove you to the airport——
QUILTY      Ah yes—magnificent airport.
He attempts to leave her orbit.
CHARLOTTE      Are you here for some time?
QUILTY      Oh, very briefly. Came to borrow a little cash from Uncle Ivor. Excuse me, I think I must go now. They are putting on a play of mine in Parkington.
CHARLOTTE      Recently we had the pleasure of enjoying your Nymphet on Channel 5.
QUILTY      Great fun those channels. Well, it was a joy chatting about the past.
He moves away sidling into the crowd but stops suddenly and turns.
QUILTY      Say, didn’t you have a little girl? Let me see. With a lovely name. A lovely lilting lyrical name——
CHARLOTTE      Lolita. Diminutive of Dolores.
QUILTY      Ah, of course: Dolores. The tears and the roses.
CHARLOTTE      She’s dancing down there. And tomorrow she’ll be having a cavity filled by your uncle.
QUILTY      I know; he’s a wicked old man .
MISS ADAMS      Mr. Quilty, I’m afraid I must tear you away. There’s somebody come from Parkington to fetch you.
QUILTY      They can wait. I want to watch Dolores dance.
CUT TO:
Gallery Near Refreshments
Humbert appears.
CHARLOTTE      Where have you been all this time?
HUMBERT      Just strolling around.
CHARLOTTE      You look bored stiff, you poor man. Oh, hullo, Emily.
MRS. GRAY      Good evening, Charlotte.
CHARLOTTE      Emily, this is Professor Humbert, who is staying with us. Mrs. Gray.
Handshakes
MRS. GRAY      Isn’t it a lovely party?
CHARLOTTE      Is your darling Rose having a good time?
MRS. GRAY      Oh, yes. You know, that child is insatiable. She got some new records for her birthday, so she plans to dance to them with Jack Beale and a couple of other kids after the party. She’d like to ask Lolita and Kenny. Could Lolita go with us from here? I’ll give her supper .
CHARLOTTE      By all means. That’s a delightful arrangement.
MRS. GRAY      Wonderful. I’ll bring her back. Around ten?
CHARLOTTE      Make it eleven. Thank you very much, Emily.
Mrs. Gray joins another group.
CHARLOTTE      (taking Humbert’s arm ) And we can go home and have a nice cozy supper. Is that all right with you, cher monsieur?
CUT TO:
The Haze Living Room
Charlotte and Humbert have finished their cold chicken and salad and are now sipping liqueurs in the parlor.
CHARLOTTE      I consider crème de menthe to be the supremely divine nectar. This was given me by the Farlows. Cost them a small fortune, I suspect.
Humbert eyes casually a diminutive circular sticker with the price “$2.50.” They clink and drink.
CHARLOTTE      Well—votre santé . Now let’s have some good music.
Humbert looks at his wristwatch, and then at the clock.
CHARLOTTE      Bartók or Bardinski ?
HUMBERT      Doesn’t matter—Bardinski, rather. I am not at all sure that those parties are properly chaperoned.
CHARLOTTE      What parties? What are you talking about?
HUMBERT      Parties at the homes of mothers. Record-playing sessions in the basement with the lights out.
CHARLOTTE      Oh, that! Really, Mr. Humbert, I have more exciting things to think about than the manners of modern children. Look, let’s change the subject. I mean, after all … can’t we forget my tedious daughter? Here’s a proposal: why don’t I teach you some of the new dance steps? What say you?
HUMBERT      I don’t even know the old ones. I’m an awkward tripper and have no sense of rhythm.
CHARLOTTE      Oh, come on. Come on, Humbert. May I call you Humbert? Especially as nobody can tell which it is of your two names? Or do you think the surname is pronounced a little different? In a deeper voice? No? Humbert.… Which is it now, first or second?
HUMBERT      (getting more and more uneasy ) I wouldn’t know.
CHARLOTTE      (going to the phonograph ) I’ll teach you the cha-cha-cha.
(returning to her armrest
perch and coyly questioning )
Cha-cha-cha?
He rises from his low armchair, not because he wants to be taught but because the ripe lady might roll into his lap if he remains seated. The record clacks and croons. Charlotte demonstrates her ankles. Bored, helpless, Humbert, hands clasped on his fly, stands looking at her moving feet.
CHARLOTTE      It’s as simple as that.
(Darts to the phonograph to restart )
Now come here, Humbert.
(smiling )
That was not the surname.
Humbert surrenders. She leads him this way and that in a tactile drill. Releases him for a moment.
CHARLOTTE      Now do like this with your hands. More life. Fine. Now clasp me.
CUT TO :
Lawn Street in Front of No. 342
A station wagon with Mrs. Gray at the wheel, two or three boys and Lolita, stops at the lawn curb. Rigmarole of resonant good-byes. Car drives off. Lolita runs up the porch steps.
CUT TO:
Living Room
Charlotte pulsates and palpates Humbert’s (stuffed) shoulder.
CHARLOTTE      In certain lights, when you frown like that, you remind me of somebody. A college boy I once danced with, a young blue-blooded Bostonian, my first glamour date.
The Door Chimes go into action .
CHARLOTTE      (shutting off the record player ) Oh, darn it!
Humbert lets in Lolita.
LOLITA      (casually ) Hullo, sweetheart.
She saunters into the living room.
CHARLOTTE      Well, you came earlier than I hoped—I mean, I did not hope you would be back so early.
LOLITA      You two seem to have been living it up here?
CHARLOTTE      How was your party?
LOLITA      Lousy.
CHARLOTTE      I thought Kenny looked cute.
LOLITA      I’m calling him Shorty from now on. I never realized he was so short. And dumb.
CHARLOTTE      Well, you’ve had your fling—and now to bed, my dear.
During this exchange, Humbert in abject adoration, gloats over the limp nymphet who has now filled a low chair with her foamy skirt and thin arms.
HUMBERT      You remind me of a sleepy flamingo.
LOLITA      Cut it out, Hum.
CHARLOTTE      Do you permit, Mr. Humbert, this rude child— —
LOLITA      Oh, Mother, give us a break. May I take these cookies upstairs?
CHARLOTTE      Well, if you want to pamper your pimples——
LOLITA      I don’t have pimples!
CHARLOTTE      Take anything you want but go.
LOLITA      All in good time.
(Stretches .)
Did you talk to the famous author?
CHARLOTTE      Yes. Please go.
LOLITA      Rose is crazy about him. Okay, I go. Bye-bye.
Indolently she moves out of the room. At the bottom of the stairs—as seen from the parlor—she stops, lingers, with her fair arm stretched out on the rail and her cheek on her arm. Meditates in this posture.
HUMBERT      What author did she mean?
CHARLOTTE      The author of The Nymphet . He’s the nephew—will you please go upstairs, Lolita?
Lolita sighs, grimaces, and slowly comes into lazy motion.
HUMBERT      Thanks for this charming evening, Mrs. Haze.
CHARLOTTE      Thank you , Mr. Humbert. Oh, sit down. Let’s have a nightcap .
HUMBERT      No, I think not. I think I’ll go up to bed.
CHARLOTTE      It’s quite early yet, you know.
HUMBERT      I know. But my neuralgia is about to strike.… With heartburn, an old ally.
CUT TO:
Stairs and Upper Landing
The nymphet is still there, now sliding up dreamily, half-reclining on the banisters. Humbert and she reach the upper landing together.
HUMBERT      Good night, Lolita.
LOLITA      Huh?
HUMBERT      I said “good night, Lolita.”
LOLITA      Night.
She totters to her room.
CUT TO:
Humbert’s Study, a Couple of Days Later
Humbert in his room is tape-recording his lecture, “Baudelaire and Poe.” He plays back the last sentences:
HUMBERT’S VOICE      Before discussing Baudelaire’s methods of translating Poe, let me turn for a moment to the romantic lines, let me turn to the romantic lines in which the great American neurotic commemorates his marriage to a thirteen-year-old girl, his beautiful Annabel Lee.
(The machine clicks and stops .)
Now Lolita is heard bouncing a tennis ball. Humbert softly opens his door and listens. She is in the hallway. Humming to herself, Lolita walks upstairs plucking at the banisters and quietly clowning. Bluejeans, shirt. Humbert is back in his chair, Lolita is on the landing. With a good deal of shuffling and scraping she comes into Humbert’s room. She potters around, fidgets, moves variously in the neighborhood of his desk.
LOLITA      (bending close to him ) What are you drawing?
HUMBERT      (considering his drawing ) Is it you?
LOLITA      (peering still more closely—she is somewhat shortsighted ) Is it?
HUMBERT      Or perhaps it is more like a little girl I knew when I was your age.
One of the drawers of the desk comes out by itself in a kind of organic protractile movement, disclosing a photograph of Humbert’s first love in a Riviera setting: a sidewalk café near a peopled plage .
LOLITA      Where’s that?
HUMBERT      In a princedom by the sea. Monaco.
LOLITA      Oh, I know where that is .
HUMBERT      I’m sure you do. Many and many a year ago. Thirty, to be exact.
LOLITA      What was her name?
HUMBERT      Annabel—curiously enough.
LOLITA      Why curiously enough?
HUMBERT      Never mind. And this was me.
Same snapshot, same setting, but now in the photograph the chair next to Annabel is occupied by young Humbert, a moody lad. Morosely, he takes off his white cap as if acknowledging recognition, and dons it again.
Actually it is the same actress as the one that plays Lolita but wearing her hair differently, etc.
LOLITA      She doesn’t look like me at all. Were you in love with her?
HUMBERT      Yes. Three months later she died. Here, on that beach, you see the angels envying her and me.
He clears his throat.
LOLITA      (now holding the photo ) That’s not angels. That’s Garbo and Abraham Lincoln in terrycloth robes.
She laughs. A pause. As she bends her brown curls over the picture, Humbert puts his arm around her in a miserable imitation of blood relationship, and still studying the snapshot—which now shows young Humbert alone—Lolita slowly sinks to a half-sitting position upon his knee.
The erotic suspense is interrupted .
CHARLOTTE      (shouting up from hallway ) Lolita! Will you come down, please?
LOLITA      (without changing her position ) I’m busy! What d’you want?
CHARLOTTE      Will you come down at once?
At the Foot of the Stairs
Charlotte and Lolita.
CHARLOTTE      Now, firstly I want you to change. Put on a dress: I’m going to the Chatfields, and I want you to come too. Secondly: I simply forbid you to disturb Mr. Humbert. He’s a writer and should not be disturbed. And if you make that grimace again, I think I’ll slap you.
CUT TO:
Humbert Transcribing from Pad to Diary
speaks as he deciphers his jottings.
HUMBERT      (in a low faltering voice ) The hag said she would slap Lolita, my Lolita. For thirty years I mourned Annabel, and watched nymphets playing in parks, and never once dared—. And now Annabel is dead, and Lolita is alive—my darling—“my darling—my life and my bride.”
CUT TO:
Dinner with Charlotte
HUMBERT      And where is your daughter tonight ?
CHARLOTTE      Oh, I left her at the Chatfields’—she’s going to a movie with Phyllis. By the way, I have a glorious surprise for you.
HUMBERT      What surprise? One of your dramatic sweets?
CHARLOTTE      Wrong, Monsieur. Try again
HUMBERT      A new light bulb.
CHARLOTTE      Nope.
HUMBERT      I give up.
CHARLOTTE      After tomorrow, Lolita is leaving for summer camp.
HUMBERT      (trying to conceal his consternation ) Really? This is only June, you know.
CHARLOTTE      Exactly. I think of myself as a good average mother, but I confess I’m looking forward to ten full weeks of tranquillity. Another slice of beef? No?
HUMBERT      Toothache.
CHARLOTTE      Oh, you poor man! Let me have Dr. Quilty take care of you.
HUMBERT      No, no, don’t bother. It will pass. How far is that camp?
CHARLOTTE      About two hundred miles. It was a stroke of genius on Mama’s part. I arranged everything without telling little Lolita, who dislikes Phyllis for no reason at all. Sprang it upon her at the Chatfields’, so she could not talk back. Ain’t I clever? Little Lolita I hope will be mollified by the movie. I just could not have faced her tonight.
HUMBERT      Are you sure she will be happy at that camp?
CHARLOTTE      She’d better. She’ll go riding there, which is much healthier than banging a tennis ball against the garage door. And camp will be much healthier than moping here, and pursuing shy scholarly gentlemen. Camp will teach Dolores to grow in many ways—health, knowledge, temper. And particularly in the sense of responsibility toward other people. Shall we take these candles with us and sit for a while on the piazza? Or do you want to go to bed and nurse that tooth?
HUMBERT      Tooth.
He slowly ascends the stairs. Charlotte calls after him.
CHARLOTTE      By the way—I told Lolita you had advised it. I thought your authority
(crystalline little laugh )
would have more weight than mine.
Night. Humbert in His Room at the Window
Car stops at 342 Lawn Street.
CHARLOTTE      Oh, do come in for a moment, Mary. I forgot to check a few items on that list for the girls. Do come in .
MRS. CHATFIELD      Well, just for a minute.
CHARLOTTE      We excuse you, Dolores. Straight to bed like a good girl.
Humbert meets Lolita on the landing.
HUMBERT      (attempting small talk ) How was the picture?
Without answering, Lolita marches toward her room.
HUMBERT      What’s the matter, Lolita?
LOLITA      Nothing. Except that you are revolting.
HUMBERT      I did not do anything. It’s a mistake. I swear.
LOLITA      (haughtily ) I’m through with you. Envoyez votre jeune fille au camp, Madame . Double-crosser!
HUMBERT      I never said that! It’s not even French! I’d do anything to have you stay here. I really would.
She slams the door.
CUT TO:
Humbert Dictates His “Baudelaire and Poe” lecture into the recorder .
HUMBERT      Other commentators, commentators of the Freudian school of thought. No. Commentators of the Freudian prison of thought. Hm. Commentators of the Freudian nursery-school of thought, have maintained that Edgar Poe married the child Virginia Clemm merely to keep her mother near him. He—I quote—had found in his mother-in-law Mrs. Clemm the maternal image he had been seeking all his life. What piffle! Listen now to the passion and despair breathing in the letter he addresses to Virginia’s mother on August 29, 1835, when he feared that his thirteen-year-old little sweetheart would be taken away to be educated in another home. “I am blinded with tears while writing this letter.… My last, my last, my only hold on life is cruelly torn away.… My agony is more than I can bear.… for love like mine can never be gotten over.… It is useless to disguise the truth … that I shall never behold her again.…”
CUT TO:
Humbert’s Alarm Clock Rings
Sevent thirty. He hurries to the window.
SHOT FROM ABOVE
The maid helps to put a bag into the car. Lolita is leaving for camp.
CHARLOTTE      Hurry up, Lolita.
Lolita is now half in and about to pull the car door to, but suddenly she looks up—and scurries back into the house.
CHARLOTTE      (furiously ) Dolores, get back into the car immediately!
She does not heed her mother’s shout. She runs upstairs. She wears her Sunday frock—gay cotton, with ample skirt and fitting bodice. Humbert has come out on the landing. She stomps upstairs and next moment is in his arms. Hers is a perfectly innocent impulse, an affectionate bright farewell. As she rises on tiptoe to kiss him, he evades her approaching lips and imprints a poetical kiss on her brow.
CHARLOTTE      (Blows the horn .)
Lolita flies downstairs, gestures up to him in a ballerina-like movement of separation, and is gone.
The blond leg is drawn in, the car door slams, is reslammed as the car gathers momentum to the sound of the collie’s Bark .
CUT TO:
Silence— except for the birds outside and the young Negro maid in the kitchen. The telephone rings .
MAID      No, there’s no Miss Lee here. You must have got the wrong number. You’re welcome.
Humbert has remained standing on the landing between his open door and the open door of Lolita’s room opposite.
He surveys her deserted room. Abandoned clothes lie on the rumpled bed. A pair of white shoes with roller skates on the floor. He rolls one on his palm.
There is a full-page advertisement (back cover of magazine) tacked onto the wall: a distinguished playwright solemnly smoking (“I can write without a pen, but not without a Drome”). After a moment’s brooding, Humbert goes to his room and incontinently starts to pack. Knock on his door .
The maid Louise knocks on Humbert’s door. He opens. She hands him a letter.
LOUISE      Mrs. Haze asked me to give you this, Mr. Humbert.
Humbert inspects envelope.
LOUISE      I’ll be doing the girl’s room now. And when I’ve done I’d like to do yours. And then I’ll go.
Humbert, puckering brow at envelope, walks slowly back to his desk.
The neat handwriting of the address turns momentarily into a schoolgirl’s scribble, then reverts to the ladylike hand. He opens the letter.
Humbert, in a classical pattern of comments, ironical asides, and well-mouthed readings, scans the letter. In one SHOT, he is dressed as a gowned professor, in another as a routine Hamlet, in a third, as a dilapidated Poe. He also appears as himself.
HUMBERT      “This is a confession, this is an avowal of love.” No signature—what, no signature? Ah, here it is. Good God! “I have loved you from the moment I saw you. I am a lonely woman and you are the love of my love.” Of “my life,” I suppose.
As in a pimp’s sample album, Charlotte appears in various unattractive attitudes and positions.
HUMBERT      “Now, my dearest, mon cher, cher Monsieur,” that’s a new one: she thinks it’s a term of endearment. “Now, you have read this, now you know. So will you please, at once , pack and leave: this is a landlady’s order. I shall be back by dinner time if I do eighty both ways and don’t have an accident. But what would it matter?” I beg your pardon: it matters a lot one way. “You see, chéri,” ah, French improving, “if you decided to stay, if I found you there when I got home, it would mean only one thing—that you want me as much as I do you—as a lifelong mate; and that you are ready to link up your life with mine forever and be a father to my little girl.” My dear Mrs. Haze, or rather Mrs. Clemm, I am passionately devoted to your daughter.
Pensively, with a dawning smile, Humbert starts to take out, one by one, slowly, then faster, the articles he had already packed. Then he goes into an awkward and grotesque jig (in striking contrast to his usual mournful and dignified demeanor). Dancing, he descends the stairs.
CUT TO:
Humbert
making a long-distance call.
HUMBERT      Is this Camp Q on Lake Climax?
(Listens .)
Is Mrs. Haze still there? She brought her daughter today.
(Listens .)
Oh, I see. Could I speak to Dolores Haze, Lolita?
He listens, waits.
LOLITA      Hullo ?
Now both parties are visible in a montage arrangement, with the camp’s various activities illustrated at the corners as in a publicity folder.
HUMBERT      I have news for you.
LOLITA      Hullo?
HUMBERT      This is Humbert. I have news for you.
She is holding a big pup.
LOLITA      Oh, how are you? I have a friend here who wants to say hullo.
The pup licks the receiver.
HUMBERT      Listen, Lolita. I’m going to marry your mother. I’m going to propose to her as soon as she’s back.
LOLITA      Gee, that’s swell. Look, I’ve got to get rid of this beast, he’s too heavy. One sec. There.
HUMBERT      Will you come to the wedding?
LOLITA      What? I can’t hear too well.
HUMBERT      Will you come to the wedding?
LOLITA      I’m not sure. No, I guess, I have to stay here. It’s a fabulous place! There’s a water-sports competition scheduled. And I’m learning to ride. And my tentmate is the Ramsdale junior swimming champion. And— —
DISSOLVE TO :
The Honeymooners
A month has elapsed. Kitchen at 342 Lawn Street.
Charlotte (radiant and demure, in tight velvet pants and bed slippers) prepares breakfast for two in the cute breakfast nook of the chrome-and-plastic kitchen. Shadows of sun and leaves play on the white refrigerator. Humbert, in the wake of his yawn, enters (dressing gown, rumpled hair).
Charlotte makes him a jocular Oriental bow. His face twitching with neuralgia, he glances at the scrambled eggs and starts clawing at a cupboard.
CHARLOTTE      What are you looking for?
HUMBERT      Pepper.
A tennis ball jumps out of the cupboard.
HUMBERT      I wonder if she can play tennis at that damned camp.
CHARLOTTE      I could not care less. Look what the Ramsdale Journal has to say about us. Here. Society Column.
Humbert glances at paper.
CHARLOTTE      Isn’t that something? Look at your elegant bride. “Mr. Edgar H. Humbert, writer and explorer, weds the former——” I never knew you were Edgar .
HUMBERT      Oh, I called up a reporter and thought I’d inject a little glamour.
He yawns again.
CHARLOTTE      And what have you explored?
HUMBERT      Madame should not ask vulgar questions.
CHARLOTTE      (very arch ) And Monsieur has certainly a grand sense of humor.
Charlotte Is Showing Bored Humbert
some of her treasures. A lamplit evening at the Humbert residence.
HUMBERT      (suddenly interested ) Hey, a gun.
He examines a small automatic.
CHARLOTTE      It belonged to Mr. Haze.
HUMBERT      Hm. And then suddenly it went off.
CHARLOTTE      It’s not loaded.
HUMBERT      That’s what they all say: “I did not know it was loaded.”
CHARLOTTE      Who—they?
HUMBERT      Boy shoots girl, banker shoots bitch, rapist shoots therapist.
CHARLOTTE      I told you many times that I appreciated your humor, but now and then it is misplaced. This is a sacred weapon, a tragic treasure. Mr. Haze acquired it when he thought he had cancer. He wanted to spare me the sight of his sufferings. Happily, or unhappily, he was hospitalized before he could use it. And this is me just before I married him.
In the snapshot Charlotte at twenty-five resembles her daughter more than she does now. Humbert is moved.
HUMBERT      I like this one tremendously. May I have it?
CHARLOTTE      Oh, my dear, of course! Everything is yours. Wait, let me inscribe it.
Charlotte writes on the photo: For my chéri Humbert from his Charlotte. April 1946 [if it is now 1960.]
CUT TO :
Humbert and Wife in Car
He is driving her to the lake.
HUMBERT      What’s that palazzo? A brothel?
CHARLOTTE      That’s Jerome McFate’s house. He’s manager of our bank, if you please.
HUMBERT      What a name for a banker.
They leave the car at the edge of the pine forest and walk through it to the lake. They are sandaled and robed.
CHARLOTTE      Do you know, Hum, I have one most ambitious dream. I should love to get hold of a real French servant like that German girl the Talbots had, and have her live in the house .
HUMBERT      No room.
CHARLOTTE      Come.
(with a quizzical smile )
Surely, chéri , you underestimate the possibilities of the Humbert home. We would put her in Lo’s room. I intended to make a guest room of that hole anyway. It’s the coldest and meanest in the whole house.
HUMBERT      And where, pray, will you put your daughter when you get your guest or your maid?
CHARLOTTE      (softly exhaling and raising one eyebrow ) Ah! Little Lo, I’m afraid, does not enter the picture at all, at all. Little Lo goes straight from camp to a good boarding school with strict discipline. I have it all mapped out, you need not worry.
The Brilliant Lake
There is a moored raft some forty yards off the lake shore. Humbert and Charlotte on the sandy strip. He, sitting, hands clasping knees, in a dreadful frame of mind; she, serenely and luxuriously reclining.
HUMBERT      The sand is filthy. Some oaf has been walking his filthy dog. And there’s a chewing-gum wrapper.
CHARLOTTE      Oh, those are just leftovers from Sunday. There’s not a soul anywhere. It’s not at all like the east end of the lake where they built the casino.
HUMBERT      One would think there would be some decrepit cripple with a piked stick cleaning up on Mondays .
CHARLOTTE      No, I don’t think so. In fact, even on weekends there is hardly anybody bathing at this end. This is the restricted part We are alone, sweetheart, you and me. And we’ll remain so forever. Just you and me. A red cent for your thoughts.
HUMBERT      I was wondering if you could make it to that raft, or whatever it is. I loathe this dirty gray sand. Out there we could sunbathe in the
(wrinkling his nose )
nude, as you genteel Americans say.
CHARLOTTE      I doubt it. This American’s back is burnt as it is. Besides, I couldn’t swim that far.
HUMBERT      Nonsense. Your merman will be at your side.
CHARLOTTE      How deep would you say it is?
HUMBERT      Twice your height. Two wives.
CHARLOTTE      I’m sure to panic and drown.
HUMBERT      All right, all right. If you don’t want to swim, let’s go home. This place bores me stiff.
CHARLOTTE      Well, I can always try.
DISSOLVE:
Humbert and Charlotte
reach the raft.
CHARLOTTE      Ah! I thought I would never make it .
HUMBERT      Yes, but there’s still the return voyage.
An airplane passes overhead.
CHARLOTTE      That’s a private plane, isn’t it?
HUMBERT      I’ve no idea. That guardian angel has been circling above the lake during our entire swim. I think he’s leaving now.
A butterfly passes in shorebound flight.
CHARLOTTE      Can butterflies swim?
HUMBERT      (indistinct answer )
CHARLOTTE      Shall I risk taking off my bra?
HUMBERT      I don’t give a damn.
CHARLOTTE      Will you give a damn if I kiss you?
He grunts. Pause.
DISSOLVE TO:
Another Angle
CHARLOTTE      Not a cloud, not a soul, not a sound.
HUMBERT      Let’s swim back.
CHARLOTTE      What—already? We haven’t been here ten minutes .
HUMBERT      Come on, let’s go in.
CHARLOTTE      Please, Humbert, stop pushing me.
HUMBERT      I’ll roll you in the water.
CHARLOTTE      You’ll do nothing of the sort. We are going to stay here till the Farlows come.
HUMBERT      They won’t be here for another hour.
CHARLOTTE      Relax and enjoy yourself. Tell me about your first wife.
HUMBERT      To hell with her.
CHARLOTTE      You are very rude, sweetheart.
HUMBERT      I’m very bored. Look here. The Farlows will retrieve you. I’m going home. Au revoir .
He dives and swims away.
CHARLOTTE      Oh, please. Wait! I’m coming too. Oh, wait!
He swims on without turning his head. Awkwardly, she lowers herself into the water. He is now nearing the shore. She starts swimming and almost immediately is seized with a cramp.
A neat little diagram shows the relative positions of a drowning person (one arm sticking out of the water), a stationary raft, and the shoreline at equal distance from the sufferer .
For a few seconds, Humbert floats motionless in a vertical position, his chin just above the surface, his eyes fixed on floundering Charlotte. There should be something reptilian and spine-chilling in his expectant stare. Then, as she gasps, and sinks, and splashes, and screams, he dashes toward her, reaching her in a few strokes.
He helps her out onto the beach.
CHARLOTTE      (still panting ) You know—you know—for one moment—I thought you—would not come to save me—your eyes—you looked at me with dreadful, dreadful eyes——
He soothes her in a humid embrace.
CUT TO:
Car
They are driving home.
CHARLOTTE      You know, it’s so funny. A drowning person is said to recollect his entire life but all I remembered was last night’s dream. You were offering me some pill or potion, and a voice said: Careful, Isolda, that’s poison.
HUMBERT      Rather pointless—what?
The car pulls up at 342 Lawn Street. They get out.
HUMBERT      Here, take this towel. Oh, blast it! I forgot my sunglasses on that bloody beach.
CHARLOTTE      Were they very expensive ?
HUMBERT      (still searching ) I loved them. They made a kind of taupe twilight. I bought them in St.-Topaz, never mislaid them before.
CHARLOTTE      Why don’t you drive back to the lake and find them? Kiss?
(Humbert obliges .)
Meantime I’ll tidy up—
CUT TO:
The “Semi-Studio”
Taking advantage of Humbert’s absence, Charlotte lovingly cleans his den. A small key drops out of a jacket. She considers it for a moment with amused perplexity; then tries it in the lock of a certain small drawer. The treasure turns out to be a little black book, Humbert’s dark diary. She flips it open. Her daughter’s name leers at her from every page. But the microscopic script is hard to decipher. She snatches up a magnifying glass. In its bland circle Humbert’s jottings leap into formidable life:
“… but her grotesque mother butted in.… Friday: She is a bitch, that Haze woman. She is sending my darling away. Alas, Lolita! Farewell, my love! If the old cat expects me to stay on, she is——”
CUT TO:
Humbert
opening the door of his living room. Charlotte, with her back to him, is writing at the desk in the far corner.
HUMBERT      I’m back. Couldn’t find them .
Charlotte does not answer but her writing hand stops. She turns slowly toward him revealing a face disfigured by grief and wrath.
CHARLOTTE      “The Haze woman,” “the old cat,” “the obnoxious mama,” “the—the old stupid Haze,” is no longer your dupe.
HUMBERT      But what——
CHARLOTTE      You’re a monster, you’re a detestable, abominable, criminal fraud! If you come near me, I’ll scream out the window.
HUMBERT      But really——
CHARLOTTE      I’m leaving today. This is all yours. Only you’ll never, never see that miserable brat again.
HUMBERT      I can explain everything.
CHARLOTTE      Get out of here. Oh, I can see it all now. You tried to drown me, you would have shot me or poisoned me next. You disgusting satyr. I’m applying for a job in Parkington and you’ll never see me again.
Furiously, she rummages for the stamps she needs. The convex block of them has fallen on the carpet. Tears off one, two. Fast and furious. Thumps on envelope.
CUT TO:
Humbert
goes swiftly upstairs to his study. There he contemplates the open and empty drawer. He crosses over to the bedroom and starts looking for his diary, which he suspects she has hidden. After some rapid ransacking, he finds it under her pillow. He walks downstairs again.
CUT TO :
Kitchen
He opens the refrigerator. Its roar, as well as the crepitation of the ice cubes in their cells under warm water, the noisy faucet, the fussing with the whiskey and soda, the banging of cupboard doors, and Humbert’s own mutter, drown the Sounds from the street (such as the hideous screech of desperate brakes).
HUMBERT      (muttering ) Tell her … Misunderstood … Civilized people … Brought you a drink … Don’t be ridiculous … Fragments of novel … Provisional names … The notes you found were fragments of a novel.…
He has now prepared his defense. Carrying the two glasses he leaves the kitchen.
CUT TO:
Hallway-Door of Living Room Slightly Ajar
As Humbert approaches the Telephone Rings on table near door. He places the glasses on the table and lifts the receiver.
VOICE      This is Lesley Tompson, the gardener next door. Your wife, sir, has been run over and you’d better come quick.
HUMBERT      Nonsense. My wife is here—
(Pushes the door open .)
man saying you’ve been killed, Charlotte. …
The room is empty. He turns back, the front door is not shut, the receiver is still throbbing on the table. He rushes out. “The far side of our steep little street presented a peculiar sight. A big black limousine had climbed Miss Opposite’s sloping lawn at an angle from the sidewalk.”
The picture now is a still. Humbert surveys the scene: The body on the sidewalk, the old gentleman resting on the grass near the car, various people attracted by the accident, the unfortunate driver, two policemen, and the cheerful collie walking from group to group.
A photographer from the Traffic Division is taking a picture.
In a projection room it is shown to a bunch of policemen by an instructor with a pointer:
THE INSTRUCTOR      Now, this is the picture of a real accident. To the ordinary spectator who has just arrived on the scene the situation may seem very, very unusual: it is not so, really. The lap robe there, on the sidewalk, covers a dead woman. The elderly person here on the grass is not dead but comfortably recovering from a mild heart attack. His nephew, the fat fellow talking to the police officers, was driving him to a birthday party when they ran over this woman. This is their car up on the slope of the lawn where it came to rest after leaving the road. It was moving down the street like so.
A diagram now appears with arrows and dotted lines.
INSTRUCTOR      The driver was trying to avoid the dog. The woman was crossing here. She was in a great hurry to mail a letter but never made it to the mailbox.
(still picture again )
That man there who stands looking stunned is her husband.
The still comes to life. A little girl picks up the letter which Charlotte was about to post and hands it to Humbert. Old Mr. Jung is sobbing uncontrollably. The ambulance arrives. The Farlows lead Humbert away.