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MacKenzie Bernard
Honors AP English III (Mr. Jennings)
Honors AP US History (Mr. Esselman)
May 17, 2013
Lolita and the 1950s
A pedophile is disgusting; “happy days” is the perfect way to describe the 1950s. Right?
Or is it possible that there could be more to it? Could a pedophile be a romantic? Could the
1950s have had serious problems? The easy answer would be no. Many people don’t want to
look beyond the surface of these words; it’s easier just to agree to their socially accepted
definitions than to look for something deeper. However, the struggle to see more is exactly what
Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita and the 1950s have in common.
It’s nearly impossible to convince people who haven’t read Lolita to look past Humbert
Humbert’s “pedophile” label. You tell people a book is about a middle aged man lusting over a
12-year-old girl and they will generally assume that man is despicable. However, Nabokov
deliberately attempts to force his readers to overlook their likely moral aversions to pedophiles in
order to see Humbert as a literary genius. Through gorgeous prose, Lolita turns pedophilia into
art and develops the idea that love is tragic, yet simultaneously beautiful. To see the beauty and
depth of Lolita, Nabokov forces you to get past the pedophilic surface of Humbert’s love.
Many people also have trouble looking closer at the 1950s. The 1950s are supposed to be
the “good old days,” a time that reflects an image of happy families, a booming economy,
suburbia, cars, and the absence of problems. However, beyond the idyllic surface, the 1950s had
serious economic, social, and political problems such as consumerism, racism, and
McCarthyism. In reality, “the happy days” held little truth beyond the incredibly popular sitcoms
of the decade. To see the actuality of the 1950s, you have to look beyond the apparent “good old
days.”
Lolita and the 1950s are both complicated subjects that people have the tendency to dumb
down. It’s easy to assume Lolita is nothing more than a pedophile or that the 1950s are nothing
more than “happy days.” It’s only when you get beyond the surface that you can fully see either
for the complexities that they really are.
Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita is the fictional narrative of Humbert Humbert, a middle aged
hopeless romantic passionately in love with Lolita, a 12-year-old girl. Humbert writes of his
passion for Lolita which, after he becomes her stepfather, turns into a sexual relationship. Lolita
eventually escapes from him with Clare Quilty, another older man with a striking resemblance to
Humbert. Three years after losing Lolita, Humbert murders Quilty and ends up in the prison
where he writes his memoir. Through distinctively beautiful prose, Nabokov turns what might
ordinarily be regarded as the disgusting musings of a sexual psychopath into an engaging
romance where Humbert comes off not as a disturbing pedophile, but as an endearing
protagonist. Through Humbert’s poetic spin on his eccentric love, Lolita develops the idea that
love is inevitably tragic, but at the same time, love (even a pedophile’s love) is beautiful.
Lolita shows that love is a devastating, heartbreaking experience. Humbert comes to
realize his obsessive love led to tragedy not only for himself, but also for Lolita:
Nothing could make my Lolita forget the foul lust I had inflicted upon her. Unless it can
be proven to me – to me as I am now, today, with my heart and my beard, and my
putrefaction – that in the infinite run it does not matter a jot that a North American girl-
child named Dolores Haze had been deprived of her childhood by a maniac, unless this
can be proven (and if it can, then life is a joke), I see nothing for the treatment of my
misery but the melancholy and very local palliative of articulate art (249).
It’s reasonable to assume that a relationship between a middle aged man and a 12-year-
old girl is going to result in emotional damage for the child. The pedophilic context of Humbert’s
love was bound to deprive Lolita of her childhood. “What I heard was but the melody of children
at play […] and then I knew that the hopelessly poignant thing was not Lolita’s absence from my
side, but the absence of her voice from that concord (271).” Humbert realizes that his love
robbed Lolita of her innocence and ultimately caused just as much pain in her life as it did in his,
if not more. In “’Lolita’ and the Dangers of Fiction,” noting Humbert’s realization of the harm
he’s done to Lolita, Mathew Winston claims:
He gradually learns that he knew nothing about her thoughts or feelings and, in fact,
carefully avoided any recognition of her personality which might interfere with the
satisfaction of his own physical and psychological needs. He is able to feel for the first
time the full pathos of “her sobs in the night—every night, every night.” He discovers, in
short, that Dolores Haze is a person and not a character (Winston).
Though Humbert is heartbroken, he realizes the damage he caused Lolita: “She groped for
words. I supplied them mentally (“He broke my heart. You merely broke my life”) (245).”
Humbert’s uncontrollable love essentially ruined Lolita’s childhood. The deprivation of Lolita’s
innocence shows just one example of the tragedy that unavoidably results from love.
While Humbert acknowledges the damage his love caused Lolita, the ultimate focus of
his memoir is the tragedy love caused for him. Perhaps the biggest example of the tragedy in
Humbert’s life can be found in his statement “You can always count on a murderer for a fancy
prose style (3).” Humbert’s jealousy-inspired murder of Clare Quilty led him to a life in prison,
or what Humbert refers to as “well-heated, albeit tombal, seclusion (272).” While a prison
sentence and being titled a murderer are great losses, for Humbert the real tragedy is losing
Lolita. Humbert ends his story with “And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my
Lolita (272).” Humbert isn’t concerned with having to deal with a life in prison; his concern is
living a life where his only way to Lolita is through his writing. He’s heartbroken, and a well-
heated prison can’t compare with that. Had Humbert not loved Lolita, or even if he hadn’t been
driven to pedophilia at all, he might have had a happy, relatively normal life. “I grew, a happy,
healthy child in a bright world of illustrated books, clean sand, orange trees, friendly dogs, sea
vistas and smiling faces (4).” Humbert’s happy childhood, and possibly happy life, was
destroyed the minute he met Annabel. From the moment Humbert fell “madly, clumsily,
shamelessly, agonizingly in love (6)” with Annabel, Humbert was predestined to love Lolita “at
first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight (237).” “In point of fact, there might have been no
Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, a certain initial girl-child (3).” Because he was fated to
love Lolita, he was destined to lose her, murder Quilty and ultimately live a miserable life not
just because of his prison sentence, but because of the incurable heartbreak that love rewarded
him. From the loss of Lolita’s childhood, to Humbert’s prison sentence, to every bit of sorrow
underlying Humbert’s “fancy prose style (3)”, the tragedy evoked in Lolita’s and Humbert’s
lives shows the idea that love inevitably leads to agony.
While Lolita shows that love is catastrophic, Nabokov develops the theme that love is
simultaneously beautiful. Upon learning Humbert is a pedophile, it might normally be reasonable
to indict Humbert as nothing more than a disgustingly evil child molester. However, Humbert’s
eloquent narration makes his pedophilic love appear beautiful. “Lolita, light of my life, fire of
my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the
palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta (3).” Humbert’s introductory paragraph, charged
with alliteration, assonance, and metaphor, reads like poetry. In “Lolita: Overview,” Chester E.
Eisinger writes:
The apparent subject of the novel is Humbert Humbert's perverted passion for a
nymphet. But we come closer to the real subject if we perceive that his passion is his
prison and his pain, his ecstasy and his madness. His release from the prison of his
passion and the justification of his perversion is in art, and that is the real subject of the
novel: the pain of remembering, organizing, and telling his story is a surrogate for the
pain of his life and a means of transcending and triumphing over it; art, as it transmutes
the erotic experience, becomes the ultimate experience in passion and madness
(Eisinger).
As Eisinger claims, the “art” Humbert creates through his prose changes Lolita from a story
about pedophilia into a story about love. Because of Humbert’s style, it doesn’t matter that Lolita
is 12 years old. What matters is Humbert’s love, which he articulates in such a way that shows
his love as being as real and painful as any love he would have experienced had he been capable
of loving someone remotely close to his own age. No matter how appalling Humbert’s feelings
may be, he still has the ability to turn his love into something beautiful: “I loved you. I was a
pentapod monster, but I loved you. I was despicable and brutal, and turpid, and everything, mais
je t'aimais, je t'aimais (250-251).” Lolita is not really about how horrible Humbert’s love is, but
about how beautiful Humbert can make that love appear. Eisinger further claims “The problem
Nabokov deliberately sets for himself, however, is to persuade the reader to transcend the erotic
content and eschew moral judgment in order to perceive his novel as an artistic creation and not
as a reflection or interpretation of reality. Lolita is not immoral or didactic, he has said; it has no
moral. It is a work of art (Eisinger).” Lolita is not about what is morally wrong with Humbert
and Lolita’s relationship, but everything that’s artistically right with it. The love story between a
grown man and an adolescent girl should be downright disgusting, but no matter how debauched
Humbert and Lolita’s relationship is, Humbert manages to transform it into something beautiful:
“I looked and looked at her, and knew as clearly as I know I am to die, that I loved her more than
anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else (244).” Humbert’s
prose trumps the fact that Lolita is just a child. He can articulate his feelings as being poignant,
even if moral standards would argue that they shouldn’t be. Humbert’s poetic narration shows
that love, even in its most deplorable form, is beautiful.
On the surface, it might appear that Lolita is about little more than the repulsive life of a
pervert. But Nabokov’s prose turns Lolita into so much more. Lolita is a love story, and a tragic
one at that. Nabokov takes a pedophile, someone who should ordinarily be regarded as a
despicable human being, and turns him into a romantic, heartbroken poet. When Nabokov
accomplishes that, the fact that Lolita is only 12 years old isn’t important. What matters is the
idea that love is a paradox, a beautiful disaster. Love ruined the lives of both Humbert and Lolita,
but their love story remains entrancing. Lolita shows love as being an awful, heartbreaking
experience that leads to absolute sorrow (even if that love is the love of a pedophile) and,
simultaneously, love, even pedophilic love, is beautiful (it might just take Vladimir Nabokov to
prove that). According to Lolita, it doesn’t matter the context of love. Whether love is for a 12-
year-old or a 112-year-old, if it’s real love, it will lead to inescapable, beautiful agony.
Many people like to believe that the 1950s are America’s “happy days,” a time when
dysfunctional families were unthinkable, the economy was immaculate, and the biggest problems
were nothing that good morals couldn’t solve in the time it took to air an episode of Leave it to
Beaver. After all, if Leave it to Beaver wasn’t on, there’s a good chance that The Adventures of
Ozzie and Harriet, Father Knows Best, Make Room for Daddy, or I Love Lucy was. David
Halberstam wrote:
One reason that Americans as a people became nostalgic about the fifties more than
twenty five years later was not so much that life was better in the fifties (though in some
ways it was), but because at the time it had been portrayed so idyllically on television. It
was the television images of the era that remained so remarkably sharp in people’s
memories, often fresher than memories of real life. Television reflected a world of
warm-hearted, sensitive, tolerant Americans, a world devoid of anger and meanness
of spirit and, of course, failure (Halberstam 514)
The sitcoms of the 1950s were constantly broadcasting the idea of happiness to the rapidly
increasing number of American television viewers (by 1954, 50 million people were watching I
Love Lucy alone (Halberstam 199)). Millions of people could plaster their eyes to a TV screen
and become convinced that the decade they were living in was as fun and happy as the smiling
white people on their television screen made it out to be. In real life, the ‘50s just couldn’t meet
the standards “invented by writers, producers, and directors (Halberstam 508).” The 50s were not
invincible, but people didn’t want to accept that. David Wright and Elly Petra Petras claimed:
“When the young men who fought in Europe and the Pacific for four years returned home to
their sweethearts, they wanted to get on with their lives and forget about the death and
destruction overseas. It only makes sense that the focus was on fun and innocence, on “I Love
Lucy,” rock ‘n’ roll, backyard barbecues, and being part of the status quo (Wright & Petra Press
728).” While perhaps the 1950s were not the utter hell Americans had experienced during the
Great Depression and World War II, they were also a long way off from being the “happy days”
nostalgia has claimed them to be.
After World War II, many Americans were determined to move on and live in prosperity.
“A booming postwar economy gave middle-class Americans more money than they ever had
before (Wright and Petra Petras 728).” The 1950s saw a substantially better economy than either
the ‘30s or ‘40s. For instance, during the Great Depression and World War II, housing suffered
more than any other industry, with the number of housing starts falling from around one million
per year to less than 100,000; 50,000 people were living in Army Quonset huts and it’s estimated
over five million new houses were immediately needed for underprivileged families (Halberstam
134). In contrast, by the end of the ‘50s, more than nine million Americans became homeowners
(Wright and Petra Press 729). An estimated 1.7 million houses were built in 1950 (Halberstam
134) and modern, suburban homes sold for as little as $6,000 (Wright and Petra Press 737). In
some respects, the “booming” economy improved the country.
Nonetheless, capitalistic America had its downsides. Americans became relentless
consumers, buying anything advertisers convinced them was necessary to live. Industries such as
the automobile market became wildly successful, with more than twenty-one million cars sold by
the end of the 1950s (Wright and Petra Press 729). Cars traveled 458 billion miles in 1950 and
7.9 million cars sold in 1955 alone. The rapid success of the automobile industry led to the
passing of the Interstate Highway Act in 1956, which created over 40,000 miles of highway
(Wright and Petra Press 736). Americans became obsessed with the fancy new automobiles
taking over suburbia. Harley Earl, the head of General Motors design, remarked to his
employees, “”General Motors […] is in business for only one reason. To make money. In order
to do that we make cars. But if we could make money making garbage cans, we would make
garbage cans (Halberstam 127).”” For many Americans, it became more important to have the
newest, sleekest car than to consider the financial consequences. Fins, the most popular
automotive detail of the 1950s, “represented no technological advance; they were solely a design
element whose purpose was to make the cars seem sleeker, bigger, and more powerful
(Halberstam 127).” “”It gave them [the customers] an extra receipt for their money in the form of
visible prestige marking for an expensive car,” Earl said, summing up the essential thrust of the
industry during the decade (Halberstam 127).”
Americans were gradually forced to realize that even if the economy was better than the
previous two decades, their newfound wealth wasn’t infinite. By the end of the 1950s, consumer
debt more than doubled, from $73 billion to $196 billion (Wright and Petra Press 740). Paul A.
Carter wrote, “In Detroit, a retailer confessed that “after a certain point, there’s nothing you can
do. You tell them to buy, but they haven’t any money.” “There is no use expecting a man to buy
an automobile he does not have to have,” columnist Walter Lippman warned, “if he is worried
about whether he may lose his job (Carter 37).” It’s estimated that 50 million people were living
near or below the poverty line (about $3,000 for a family of four) (Wright and Petra Press 748).
The 50s saw two recessions, the first lasting from July 1953-May 1954 and the second from
August 1957 – April 1958, when the unemployment rate peaked at 7.5% (Labonte). More than
five million lacked jobs by the spring of 1958 and 75,000 workers were unemployed in St. Louis
alone (Carter 35; 39). The economic doldrums of the 1950s can’t compare with that of the 1930s
or ‘40s, but it would be a stretch to say the ‘50s economy, riddled by recessions, unemployment,
and debt all of its own, was a representation of “happy days.”
Although economic welfare improved for many Americans in the 1950s, the financial
status of minorities degenerated. “While the average annual income for middle-class whites
increased quite dramatically through the decade, the average annual income for African-
Americans and other minorities actually decreased (Wright and Petra Petras 730).” Realtors and
bankers often refused to sell houses or lend money to African-Americans and other minorities
(Wright and Petra Petras 748). Bill Levitt, developer of Levittown, New York (the first postwar,
mass-produced suburb) claimed, “I have come to know that if we sell one house to a Negro
family, then 90 or 95 percent of our white customers will not buy into the community. […] As a
company our position is simply this: We can solve a housing problem, or we can try to solve a
racial problem but we cannot combine the two (Halberstam 141).” While the economy may have
been somewhat close to ideal, for minorities nothing could be further from the truth.
For the African-Americans and other minorities that the sitcoms of the decade so rarely
acknowledged, discrimination went beyond the economy. As fifteen-year-old Elizabeth Eckford
attempted to enter the newly integrated Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas, white
mobs screamed, “Here she comes! Here comes one of the n-----s!” She believed the National
Guard troopers sent by President Eisenhower would protect her, but instead they used their rifles
and bayonets to block her path while the mob screamed, “Lynch her! Lynch her,” “Go home,
you b-----d of a black b---h,” and “No n----r b---h is going to get in our school (Halberstam 674-
675).” When sitcoms weren’t on TV, broadcasting the carefree lives of their white heroes,
“troops separating black and white students became a familiar site on television sets all across
the country (Wright and Petra Press 749).” Racism was something the popular sitcoms just never
got around to. In 1955, after 14-year-old Emmett Till reportedly flirted with a white woman, he
was beaten, shot, wired to a seventy-four pound gin fan, and tossed in the Tallahatchie River
(Halberstam 433-436). For minorities, “happy days” were a pipe dream. David Wright and Elly
Petra Press claimed that Americans were “more interested in being part of the newly affluent
middle class and enjoying their new prosperity than in protesting social inequality or political
injustice (Wright and Petra Press 726).” For many people that were lucky enough to be a part of
the America that was even somewhat close to the utopia they watched on TV, it was simply more
important to attain the newest cars and suburban homes than it was to remember the daily
discrimination faced by those who weren’t as fortunate.
Minorities were not the only ones facing fear in the 1950s. The Cold War atmosphere
created a paranoid state for Americans of every race. David Wright and Elly Petra Petras called
the Cold War “a war waged in the decades following World War II by any means short of direct
military confrontation – but always in the shadow of the threat of that confrontation (Wright and
Petra Petras 731).” Many people feared the spread of communism and the Soviet Union’s
chances of world dominance. The country’s paranoia led to the rise of McCarthyism. In February
1950, Wisconsin senator Joseph McCarthy became a key part in the search for communist
elements within the United States. He claimed to have a list of names of State Department
employees who belonged to the American Communist Party (few of whom actually had any ties
to Communism). McCarthy became chairman of the Government Committee on Operations of
the Senate and over the next three years, made accusations against the Overseas Library Program
(which led to the banning of 30,000 books he deemed as procommunist), the Truman
administration (including President Harry S. Truman and George Marshall, the leader behind the
renowned Marshall Plan), several writers, actors, directors, musicians, and eventually, the United
States Army (Hyder). David Halberstam wrote:
McCarthy’s carnival-like four-year spree of accusations, charges, and threats touched
something deep in the American body politic, something that lasted long after his own
recklessness, carelessness, and boozing ended his career in shame. McCarthyism
crystallized and politicized the anxieties of a nation living in a dangerous new era. He
took people who were at the worst guilty of political naïveté and accused them of treason.
He set out to do the unthinkable, and it turned out to be surprisingly thinkable
(Halberstam 52).
McCarthy took a nation already rocked by fear and warped it into a state of terror. Speaking
against McCarthy and his supporters, Adlai Stevenson said, ““They are finally the men who
seemingly believe that we can confound the Kremlin by frightening ourselves to death
(Halberstam 236).”” Sitcoms never got around to real fears like McCarthyism. Outside of media
promotion, America was not a carefree paradise, but a nation stuck in a state of fear and
uncertainty.
The 1950s were not America’s “happy days”. As much as Americans wanted to move on
from the hardships of the previous decades, the 1950s couldn’t be perfect. Outside of the TV
world, the 1950s dealt with major economic, social, and political issues. The “booming”
economy was actually leaving Americans unemployed and in debt. The civil rights movement
was getting started, but minorities were constantly discriminated against. The Cold War held
Americans in fear and McCarthyism didn’t help that. Yet these are supposed to be the happiest
times America has ever known.
Time once referred to Beaver Cleaver as “”the symbol of the melted ice-cream sorrows of
an idyllic suburban childhood that never really was (Applebaum 318).”” The “happy days” that
people can be so nostalgic for are more likely to be sitcom images rather than the actuality of the
1950s. People are nostalgic for the Cleavers’ lives: the affluent middle class, the absence of
serious problems, and the happy American setting. People tend to forget that the Cleavers were
actors, their all-American suburb was a Hollywood set, and their resounding morals that could
solve anything were lines off a script. In his Leave it to Beaver guidebook, Irwyn Applebaum
claimed: “The Cleavers’ warm-oatmeal home life was the “holy gruel” which many parents and
kids watching the show would seek all their lives, and never come close to emulating in the
privacy of their own homes. Things just never were that perfect in anybody’s home (Applebaum
7).” The sitcoms of the 1950s set up impossible expectations for the actual times to live up to,
but, as David Halberstam wrote, “It was the television images of the era that remained so
remarkably sharp in people’s memories, often fresher than memories of real life (Halberstam
514).” For the characters of the 50s’ sitcoms, America couldn’t have been happier; but, for the
Americans not created by writers, “happy days” was more false advertising than it was reality.
It might not seem obvious that a book about a pedophile could make accurate
connections to the 1950s. However, if you look closer, Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita accomplishes
just that. In point of fact, Lolita is all about “looking closer.” As the characters in Lolita are
forced to look closer at Humbert Humbert to realize that, in reality, he’s a pedophile rather than
the idyllic man he comes off as, Nabokov attempts to force the reader to look closer at Humbert
to realize that he’s more than just a sexual deviant. Similarly, it might not seem obvious that the
1950s were anything besides America’s “happy days.” Yet, if you look closer, the 1950s had
economic, political, and social problems that went beyond the projected images of fun and
innocence. To see the actuality of either Lolita or the 1950s, you have to get past the surface.
To the other characters, Humbert seems virtually flawless. Lolita and Charlotte are both
attracted to him at first sight. Jean, Charlotte’s best friend, secretly falls in love with Humbert
and kisses him after Charlotte’s death. When Humbert refuses to let Lolita acknowledge boys or
participate in her school’s play, he’s simply taken for a concerned stepfather. When no one looks
beyond the surface, Humbert seems almost perfect.
Most of the characters never come close to figuring out the truth about Humbert, but even
the characters that do eventually deduce Humbert’s pedophilia (primarily Lolita and Charlotte)
initially refuse to acknowledge his inappropriateness. When Humbert licks Lolita’s eyeball, she
thinks he’s just helping her remove a stray eyelash; when he attempts to lick her other, healthy
eye, she merely laughs and brushes him out of the way. When he goes even farther and
“[crushes] out against her left buttock the last throb of the longest ecstasy man or monster had
ever known (49),” she doesn’t even notice. Perhaps Lolita’s gullibility can be attributed to her
age, but Charlotte, a grown woman, is also oblivious to Humbert’s pedophilia. Like Lolita,
Charlotte refuses to see Humbert as anyone besides who she wants him to be. When Charlotte
confesses that she’s in love with him, she tells him that if he were to take advantage of her, he
would be “worse than a kidnapper who rapes a child (56).” Ironically, she sees no indication that
that’s exactly the person Humbert’s on his way to becoming.
It’s only when Charlotte’s curiosity gets the best of her and she reads Humbert’s diary
that she sees the person he really is. Lolita begins to see Humbert for what he is only after she
discovers sex at summer camp. It would seem that Humbert’s lewd behaviors would be obvious
to, if not Lolita, then at least Charlotte. However, both Lolita and Charlotte are more concerned
with seeing Humbert as the dream man they want him to be rather than acknowledging him as a
pedophile. Until the truth about Humbert is basically plastered before their eyes, it’s nicer just to
imagine him as perfect.
Similarly, on the surface, the 1950s appear to be America’s “happy days.” The media
built up the 1950s to be a decade in which all Americans were blissful and prosperous. Families
were depicted as laughing together over I Love Lucy in their modern, suburban homes with a
fancy convertible or two in the driveway. The economy appeared to be better than ever, allowing
Americans to buy anything and everything. It appeared as if political, economic, and social
problems just couldn’t find a place; if you only focus on what the media claimed, the 1950s
couldn’t have been more ideal.
In a nation dominated by television, millions of people were led to believe that the idyllic
depictions of America portrayed on The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet, Father Knows Best, I
Love Lucy, Leave it to Beaver, and Make Room for Daddy were accurate representations of ‘50s
reality. It became relatively easy for many Americans, like the sitcoms, to disregard the world’s
problems. Underneath the surface of the media-created bliss, real issues such as McCarthyism,
racism, and dangerous consumerism were affecting America. Yet, as millions of Americans
refused to look past the joyous, fictional world they so desperately wanted to be a part of, the
1950s developed its reputation as being the nation’s supposed “happy days.” In the same way it
was easier for Lolita and Charlotte to see Humbert as perfect rather than as a pedophile, it was
easier for many ‘50s Americans to accept the media’s idyllic depictions of life rather than the
real world.
Many people became more focused on living what were supposed to be happy, affluent
lives than on facing America's problems. Issues such as racism were never acknowledged by the
sitcoms, and many Americans wanted to follow in that example. For instance, many people
didn’t want to deal with integration. Eisenhower had to send the National Guard just to integrate
one high school in Little Rock. Whether they liked it or not, many Americans eventually had to
at least consider changes in their ideas regarding issues such as racial equality. Like Lolita and
Charlotte, many Americans were forced to open their eyes to the problems that they didn’t want
to recognize.
Simultaneously, both 1950s Americans and the readers of Lolita were met with a
challenge to reconsider their morals. For many in the ‘50s, minorities and pedophilia were on the
same level, both being uncomfortable subjects that most people wanted to avoid and write off as
repulsive. As many Americans were compelled to reassess their ideas about issues like racism,
Nabokov attempts to compel his readers to reconsider their ideas on pedophilia. Lolita is
Nabokov’s attempt to make readers overlook their morals in order to see a pedophile as a literary
genius and his pedophilia as something gorgeous. Through Humbert’s prose, Nabokov does his
best to demand that his readers question what beauty really is, even if that means considering
pedophilia to be something that appears attractive. As many people were hesitant to view
minorities as equals, Nabokov’s creation of beauty in something inherently worse than not being
white set up a challenge to such opinions. If Nabokov can make the relationship between a
middle aged man and a 12-year-old girl look beautiful, finding decency in a different race
shouldn’t be too hard of a task. Lolita attempts to challenge readers to expand their minds to find
beauty beyond their morals in the same way the changing social atmosphere of the 1950s
challenged many Americans to consider expanding their minds to redefine their own morals.
To see the actuality behind either Lolita or the 1950s, you have to look beyond the
surface. Similar to the way the characters in Lolita have to overlook their imagined conceptions
of Humbert to see him for who he really is, the reader has to overlook any moral aversions they
might ordinarily hold against a pedophile in order to see Lolita as the work of art it really is.
Likewise, to get a realistic perception of the 1950s, you have to get past the “happy days”
surface. You have to look closer to see that the decade that was supposed to be so fun and
innocent had actual problems. Lolita and the 1950s also both set up a challenge for Americans to
reassess their morals. Similar to the way Nabokov attempts to challenge his readers to eschew
their morals to find beauty in a pedophile, the social changes of the 1950s challenged many
Americans to reevaluate their morals as well. Lolita and the 1950s both require you to overlook
any preconceptions you might have. To see Lolita as more than just a pedophile or to see the
1950s as more than just the “happy days,” you have to look closer.
Annotated Bibliography:
Applebaum, Irwyn. The World According to Beaver. New York: Bantam, 1984. Print.
In this book dedicated to Leave it to Beaver, Irwyn Applebaum discusses the basis of the classic
TV show, each episode, and its impact on the world. The writing isn’t anything remarkable and
the book isn’t meant to be a formal historical criticism (I looked at it because I remember reading
it for fun in the fourth grade); its purpose is simply to pay homage to one of the best remembered
sitcoms of the 1950s. Most of the book wasn’t useful (every minute detail about Leave it to
Beaver just wasn’t very applicable), but Applebaum does include some thought-provoking
quotes comparing the Cleavers’ portrayal of the 1950s with the decade’s actuality. If someone
wants to learn as much as possible about Leave it to Beaver, they should read this book.
However, if someone wants to learn about the 1950s, this book can probably be avoided.
Associated Press, The. "Teen-Ager Seized In the Slaying of 10: Two Are Held in Wyoming in a
Series of Slayings TEEN-AGER SEIZED IN SLAYING OF TEN." New York Times 29
Jan. 1958, Page 1, column 5. Web. 21 Apr. 2013.
<http://0search.proquest.com.iii.slcl.org/docview/
114360108/13D94C5145E26D5F18A/1?accountid=17>.
This 1958 newspaper article recounts the murders committed days earlier by Charles
Starkweather and Caril Fugate. The Associated Press briefly tells of each of Starkweather’s and
Fugate’s killings and of their capture. Although I didn’t end up using it in my paper, this article
served nicely as a primary source and as a reminder that the 1950s had serious problems.
"The Beat Movement." American Decades. Ed. Judith S. Baughman, et al. Vol. 6: 1950-1959.
Detroit: Gale, 2001. 34-37. U.S. History In Context. Web. 24 Apr. 2013.
In this article, Judith S. Baughman explains media and literary perceptions of the Beat
Generation. She discusses Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, and Neal Cassidy and their effect on
the 1950s as well as the subsequent future. She concludes with the Beat Movement’s Decline.
Although this article lacked much depth, it gave a decent outline of the Beats. I ultimately didn’t
mention the Beat Movement in my paper, but if I had, this probably wouldn’t have been very
helpful.
Carter, Paul A. Another Part of the Fifties. New York: Columbia University, 1983. Print.
Paul A. Carter examines the 1950s through a detailed review of the decade’s politics and
economics. He pulls information from several well-cited primary sources which show “happy
days” as being an inaccurate representation of the 1950s. Carter puts an emphasis on
McCarthyism, the economy, and the numerous faults with Eisenhower’s presidency. This proved
to be a useful source and I would recommend it to anyone researching the politics and economics
of the 1950s.
Daynard, Richard, Robert Kline, and Kristen Daley. "Litigation." Tobacco in History and
Culture: An Encyclopedia. Ed. Jordan Goodman. Vol. 1. Detroit: Charles Scribner's
Sons, 2005. 307-314. U.S. History In Context. Web. 23 Apr. 2013.
In this article, Davies, Kline, and Daley outline the history of tobacco. It discusses the discovery
of cigarettes being linked to increased health risks in 1953 and the litigations that took place
afterwards. The article puts a detailed emphasis on how the extreme tobacco use in the ‘50s
ultimately damaged the health of millions of Americans and how tobacco companies cunningly
avoided legal repercussions. I didn’t end up discussing tobacco in my paper, but this would have
been an excellent source had I done so. Anyone interested in tobacco history, particularly in the
1950s, should give this a read.
Eisinger, Chester E. "Lolita: Overview." Reference Guide to American Literature. Ed. Jim
Kamp. 3rd ed. Detroit: St. James Press, 1994. Literature Resource Center. Web. 14 Mar.
2013.
In this piece of literary criticism, Chester E. Eisinger focuses on the idea that the essence of
Lolita is its language. He argues that Lolita is not merely a story about pedophilia, but an artistic
creation. His argument is that Nabokov’s deliberate use of decorative language turns a perverted
memoir into not only a love story, but more importantly, a work of art. This was a convincing
argument that I was able to use to support my claim that Lolita shows all love as beautiful.
"'The good old days': Destin Snowbirds relive Sweet Sixteen." Destin Log [Destin, FL] 28 Jan.
2009. U.S. History In Context. Web. 27 Mar. 2013.
In this article about a Destin, Florida “Sweet Sixteen Bash” held for senior citizens (many of
whom came in poodle skirts, school sweaters, and white t-shirts with rolled up sleeves) in an
attempt to relive the “happy days.” The event was a success and several people gave quotes
about their memories of “the good old days.” I didn’t end up using this source, but the personal
accounts in the article did serve as a decent counter to the majority of my research.
Halberstam, David. The Fifties. New York: Villard Books, 1993. Print.
This is essentially the Bible on the 1950s. Basically, Halberstam gives a detailed account of
every major event in the 1950s. It’s 800 pages of encyclopedic information which Halberstam
cites with solid primary and secondary sources. He claims that although the 1950s appear
languid, beneath the surface, a social ferment that contrasted “happy days” was beginning. His
detailed index ended up being incredibly beneficial and The Fifties ultimately became one of my
best sources. Anyone studying the 1950s should make this book a priority.
Hyder, Joseph Patterson. "McCarthyism." Encyclopedia of Espionage, Intelligence and Security.
Ed. K. Lee Lerner and Brenda Wilmoth Lerner. Vol. 2. Detroit: Gale, 2004. 251-253.
U.S. History In Context. Web. 22 Apr. 2013.
In this article, Patterson graphically outlines McCarthyism. He recounts how Joseph McCarthy
began his post-war “Red Scare,” the damage he caused, and McCarthy’s eventual demise in
1954. This article gives straightforward facts on McCarthy that were beneficial for writing about
McCarthyism in my paper. I’d recommend this article to someone who wants a solid explanation
of McCarthyism.
Joel, Billy. “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” Storm Front. Columbia, 1989. CD.
This is a rock song with lyrics composed mainly of the headlines of 119 major events that
happened between 1949 through 1989. 65 of the events Joel references occurred between 1950-
1959. This was one of the first sources I turned to in the hope that I could use it to generate ideas
for the history component. Although I did end up researching many of Joel’s references, the song
was ultimately more helpful in procrastinating than serving as a beneficial source.
Labonte, Marc. United States. Congressional Research Service. “U.S. Economy in Recession:
Similarities To and Differences From the Past.” www.crs.gov, 2009. Web.
http://fpc.state.gov/documents/organization/133906.pdf
Labonte compares and contrasts each of America’s post-World War II recessions. He looks at
each recession’s length and depth, unemployment rate, consumption and investment rates, etc.
Labonte uses a wealth of statistics to show the effects of recession. His facts are well-cited and I
was ultimately able to use his statistics for the recessions that took place from July 1953-May
1954 and August 1957-April 1958 in my paper.
Leave it to Beaver. 1957-1959. DVD.
This is an iconic sitcom that revolves around the life of All-American boy, Theodore “Beaver”
Cleaver and his happy, middle-class family. The Cleavers exemplify the image of what ‘50s
American families were supposed to look like. As I found myself watching countless episodes, I
realized how ridiculously convincing a purely fictional show could be. The show became my
prime example of everything the media claimed the 1950s were supposed to represent: the
picture-perfect families, the suburbia, the morals, and the overwhelming innocence. I’d
recommend Leave it to Beaver to anyone looking at the culture of the 1950s (or anyone who
appreciates a great TV show).
Make Room for Daddy. 1955. DVD.
Make Room for Daddy (later changed to The Danny Thomas Show) centers on entertainer Danny
Williams (Danny Thomas) and the variety of amusing situations he encounters with his wife and
two children. The show was set apart from other ‘50s sitcoms through Danny’s hostile, yet
loving attitude and each episode’s musical conclusion. I used Make Room for Daddy as an
example of the media created “happy days.” I’d recommend the show to anyone looking at 1950s
culture.
Miller, Neil. Sex-Crime Panic: A Journey to the Paranoid Heart of the 1950s. Los Angeles:
AlysonPublications, 2002. Print.
In this book, Neil Miller tells the untold story of 25 gay men who, after the unsolved, brutal
murders of two children in Sioux City, were sentenced to a mental hospital in order to calm
public hysteria. While I ultimately didn’t use this book directly in my paper, it did serve as a
mental reminder that the 1950s were far from “happy days.” I’d recommend this to someone
interested LGBT issues or journalistic writing, but not to someone interested in the 1950s.
Nabokov, Vladimir. Lolita. The United States of America: The Olympia Press, 1955. Print.
This is a ridiculously amazing book that takes a pedophile/murderer and makes him look like a
romantic hero. Through elegant, almost poetic, narration, Humbert Humbert tells of his
passionate, agonizing love for Lolita, a 12-year-old. Nabokov manages to take Humbert’s
pedophilia and turn it into a love that appears beautiful. In brief, it’s a work of genius.
"What Fathers Really Need to Create a Happy Family." Albany Times Union [Albany, NY] 21
June 2009: B2. U.S. History In Context. Web. 27 Mar. 2013.
A brief article that challenges people who grew up in the ‘50s to consider whether or not their
dad actually matched up with the popular image of loving, family oriented fathers that seems to
be missing from today’s culture. The article claims the reasons fathers (and families) are
remembered as being so ideal isn’t because they actually were, but because the 1950s were
considerably more optimistic than the current times. While the article didn’t draw from any solid
evidence, it did pose an intriguing query that was helpful in remembering that the “the happy
days” conception isn’t realistic.
Winston, Mathew. "Lolita' and the Dangers of Fiction." Twentieth Century Literature 21.4 (Dec.
1975): 421-427. Rpt. in Contemporary Literary Criticism. Ed. Roger Matuz and Cathy
Falk. Vol. 64. Detroit: Gale Research, 1991. Literature Resource Center. Web. 8 Mar.
2013.
In this piece of literary criticism, Mathew Winston summarizes Lolita and argues that Humbert is
a character with a personality comparable to Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde. He shows Humbert as being a
pedophile and a murderer, but simultaneously, a literary genius and a linguistic artist. Winston
uses this analysis to expound upon Humbert’s major actions and the key plot points in Lolita.
This was a well-argued criticism that I was ultimately able to use it in supporting my claim that
Lolita shows love as inevitably leading to tragedy.
"Women's Roles in the 1950s." American Decades. Ed. Judith S. Baughman, et al. Vol. 6: 1950
1959. Detroit: Gale, 2001. 278-280. U.S. History In Context. Web. 22 Apr. 2013.
In this article, Judith S. Baughman illustrates the changing family dynamic of the 1950s as well
as the discrimination faced by women. She discusses the role of media as well as government
and how they affected 50s women. This article was extremely detailed, covering subjects such as
media perceptions, sexism, and rising divorce rates, just to name a few. I would recommend this
to anyone interested in the actuality of women’s roles in the 1950s.
Wright, David and Petra Press, Elly. America in the 20th Century. 2nd ed. Tarrytown: Marshall
Cavendish Corporation, 2003. Web.
David Wright and Elly Petra Press give a comprehensive analysis of the 1950s. They begin by
showing the “happy days” conception and consequently claiming that, below the surface, a mess
of problems was actually going on. The book then goes on to give the details of consumerism,
the Cold War, racism, television, and several other significant factors of the 1950s. The 1950s
are covered in depth and this became one of my most useful sources. Anyone researching the
1950s should refer to America in the 20th Century.