So after giving Lolita some time to stew, I must say while (LOL) I said it was dull at one particular moment (the middle of part 2), that's not to say I found it even remotely passionless at any other! It was hilariously punny in the Joycean way, and remarkably well written. However, I cannot say I felt like Nabokov was making a real statement about anything in particular, other than the power of writing itself, the way that Faulkner made a statement about the nature of man's obsessions in his body of work. Because, in the end, Humbert's paranoia TURNS OUT TO BE WELL FOUNDED. That is all I am going to say (I don't want to spoil it).
When it is all over for our hero, while one may feel deeply disturbed by the stark disparity between the immense monstrosity of the actions he takes and the infinite delicacy of the prose he pens, there is no reconciliation. Lolita asks more questions than it answers, as Nabokov wishes for us to find the answers within ourselves (he himself apparently disposed symbolism as a technique in literature). So, overall, a fine book, if difficult and at times boring.
Fair enough? Anybody else beg to differ? I'd love to hear if you do. ^_^