Defending Dolores
⤏ THE AFTERMATH OF LOLITA PODCAST, A 6-MONTH EXPLORATION INTO THE CULTURAL LEGACY OF LOLITA
⤏ WRITTEN BY JAMIE LOFTUS
⤏ GRAPHIC BY FAYE ORLOVE
I get asked a lot of questions, and have no good answers.
Last month, I finished a podcast about the cultural legacy of Lolita, from the book to the movies (bad) to the online culture (a lot, but not all bad) to the Broadway musical (starts bad, circles all the way around to being funny, then is really bad). When I announced the project, a few people gleefully said I was finally here to ‘cancel’ Lolita — a task that was neither possible nor my intention. For all the fast and loose talk of cancellation that flies around on the internet every day, you can’t cancel a famous work of literature even if it is written with the intent to harm, which I firmly believe Lolita is not. (No, I am not using my precious word count to explain why, you can listen to the show wherever for zero dollars and that’s the Jamie Loftus promise).
So what was it for? Originally, I thought I was trying to figure out if it was a story that warranted any further adaptation, but it quickly became obvious that that wasn’t the most important question to ask. The goal shifted several times in the six months Lolita Podcast was in production, but where I landed was wanting to see the work in context. In the sixty-five years since Lolita was published, there has been significant change in some areas, and infuriating stagnation in others. The core of the podcast became advocating for Dolores Haze, the abused child who very much exists beneath the layers of projection that abuser Humbert Humbert ascribes to ‘Lolita’— a construct all his own.
I first read Nabokov’s book as a twelve-year-old at the recommendation of my favorite children’s author, Lemony Snicket. Judging by its cover, a quote from Vanity Fair, and cues I’d taken from pop culture, I took Lolita as a love story — even as reading chapters of Dolores being abused made me feel sick and confused.
No adult wanted to talk with me about Dolores, or about child sexual abuse (CSA). I’d grown up in the mid-aughts, when CSA was discussed as something that could only happen if a complete stranger plucked you from the street, and the aggressive sexualization of young girls was an absolute pop culture moment. When a girl aged out of the oversexed role, we’d blame her for ‘setting a bad example,’ and move on to the next one. My parents blamed Britney Spears for my tying two bandanas around my torso and calling it a shirt (chic), not the structures that were putting her in those clothes.
“I’d grown up in the mid-aughts, when CSA was discussed as something that could only happen IF a complete stranger plucked you from the street, and the aggressive sexualization of young girls was an absolute pop culture moment. “
Putting Lolita Podcast together took around four months of preparation, and I was working on the show every moment until the final episode was released. From the very first episode, there were messages. So many messages — on Instagram, on Twitter, on Discord, through email. Messages I’d anticipated, but not on the scale or the level of intensity that they came in.
I received messages from listeners who had experienced CSA themselves, who loved someone who had experienced it, who were just coming to terms with it as adults, who were reevaluating relationships they’d been in for decades because of how they had begun. Messages about perspectives I should take into account, survivors who had been forgotten, books and memoirs that had been under-covered or dismissed. I got messages that made me feel sick, which led to conversations that made me feel sick, that led to weeks of shutting my emotions off in order to finish the show. I got a lot of messages from Lana Del Rey stans who were very unhappy with me. There were some messages from people who just wanted to be heard, and others that wanted answers I don’t have.
I sank into a pandemic-induced depression that was motivated by the podcast ending, what I learned from it, and all those messages I couldn’t bring myself to answer.
Discussing CSA is extremely difficult, extremely easy to get wrong, and extremely important to do in spite of it. It sounds like a ridiculously broad takeaway to pull from six months of reporting and another month of living in the aftermath, but I do think accepting that CSA is a difficult and emotionally taxing subject to navigate is a step toward discussing it.
It’s fucking hard, but we owe the millions of those who have suffered under its weight to find the energy and the strength to stop prioritizing our own discomfort. My hope is that Lolita Podcast sounds dated in a few years, and the CSA is universally acknowledged as:
-an issue that affects people from every walk of life
-not a product of some bean-brained Q-Anon conspiracy
-something disproportionately affecting Black and indigenous girls
-a pressing issue that our justice system is adequately equipped to handle
It’s been a busy month since the show ended, with an insurgence of media challenging the sexualization of young people and how it remains so deeply normalized. Framing Britney Spears came out the weekend after, followed by Allen v. Farrow, preceded by Surviving R. Kelly. We’re coming to terms with the palpable trauma and long-term effects that follow abuses of power. What I think we’re still missing is the acknowledgement that CSA isn’t an issue only existing in the sphere of the rich and powerful. It happens everywhere, and disproportionately affects marginalized communities. It’s an issue that affects children of all genders, races and sexualities, and in all socioeconomic brackets. We just tend to hear the stories from those with the most resources and public interest.
I will never, ever tell someone they are wrong for disliking Lolita, for not wanting to read the book, or for not wanting to listen to my 15-hour dissertation on it. The way we engage with this topic is extremely individual. So much of how Lolita affects people is connected to who you are, how you were introduced to the material, and your life experiences.
“There are still people that will argue that Lolita is a beautifully written love story, and I know that because they have all sent me emails about how wrong I am.”
I’m certain I didn’t get everything right, but what I hope people can see is that Dolores Haze was erased in favor of Humbert’s idealized “Lolita.” I believe that prioritizing Dolores Haze’s narrative, and stripping away the manipulative tactics of the abuser is a start. Her story is not a triumph or even one of survival, but she is a character that represents many, and her story remains of value to a number of survivors.
There are still people that will argue that Lolita is a beautifully written love story, and I know that because they have all sent me emails about how wrong I am. The fact these people are still a vocal contingency says to me that the public conversation around CSA is the stagnation. We don’t fucking know how to talk about it, and that has done very little to resolve it.
It was through making this show that I learned that three people I thought I knew inside and out had experienced CSA. They are working through it, and I am working through how to best support them. I have messages to answer, feelings to process, and work to do. It’s worth doing.
Listen to Lolita Podcast anywhere you listen to podcasts.
⤏ JAMIE LOFTUS (SHE/HER) IS A COMEDIAN, WRITER, AND ANIMATOR IN LOS ANGELES (IF THAT'S OKAY), ORIGINALLY FROM BOSTON (WITH YOUR PERMISSION, OF COURSE). JAMIE IS A NATIONALLY TOURING STANDUP COMEDIAN, TV WRITER, AND HAS BEEN FEATURED NEARLY EVERYWHERE, INCLUDING THE NEW YORKER, VICE, MOTHERBOARD, THE BOSTON GLOBE, SPLITSIDER, FAST COMPANY, MAN REPELLER, PLAYBOY MAGAZINE AND PASTE MAGAZINE. JAMIE IS A FREAK BITCH AND HAS ABSOLUTELY NO INTENTION OF DYING.