08-14-2011, 09:28 PM
I've recently been reading Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita, a novel told in the form of a memoir by Humbert Humbert, a sexual deviant who has an affair with his landlady's twelve-year old daughter, and it's started me thinking: are stories told from the first person perspective of monsters strictly moral?
Lolita I think transcends such questioning because of the seriousness and beauty of its aesthetic; it's intended as art, not titillation. Commercial fictions worry me more.
Take, for instance, the Dexter series of crime novels by Jeff Lindsay. They're narrated by Dexter Morgan, a Miami blood spatter analyst who moonlights as a vigilante serial killer, gorging his passion only on those he deems deserving (murderers, people traffickers etc.). He allegedly has no emotions whatsoever, but I would argue it's impossible to write a first person narrative from the perspective of someone without feelings about anything. At least not an interesting narrative. So Dexter is hinted as having some human qualities, including a camaraderie with his adoptive sister and an incorruptible reverence for her biological father, who helped channel his psychopathic tendencies into vigilantism. Whether intentionally or not this serves to water down the monster and make him a kind of anti-hero, implicitly condoning his actions.
Humbert Humbert, though we see his actions only through his eyes, is not an overly likeable man. For all his talents as a poet he is selfish, vain, pathetic and weak, and when he lusts after Lolita from his vantage point of lodger in her mother's house, we shiver with disgust, not suspense. We can pity him, even enjoy his company, much as one can pity and enjoy the occasional wit of a doomed dictator, but from the first paragraph he is what he is; a freak, a monster, a pervert.
Dexter, on the other hand, is handsome, virile, tough, even generous. Thus, when he strangles a paedophile priest or disembowels a child killer (crimes against children seem especially prevalent, perhaps capitalising on the still present hysteria over paedophilia) we're invited to look over his shoulder and grin. As this is all presented as casual entertainment, like Poirot and Miss Marple were to our grandparents, it gives me the creeps.
What are you thoughts?
Lolita I think transcends such questioning because of the seriousness and beauty of its aesthetic; it's intended as art, not titillation. Commercial fictions worry me more.
Take, for instance, the Dexter series of crime novels by Jeff Lindsay. They're narrated by Dexter Morgan, a Miami blood spatter analyst who moonlights as a vigilante serial killer, gorging his passion only on those he deems deserving (murderers, people traffickers etc.). He allegedly has no emotions whatsoever, but I would argue it's impossible to write a first person narrative from the perspective of someone without feelings about anything. At least not an interesting narrative. So Dexter is hinted as having some human qualities, including a camaraderie with his adoptive sister and an incorruptible reverence for her biological father, who helped channel his psychopathic tendencies into vigilantism. Whether intentionally or not this serves to water down the monster and make him a kind of anti-hero, implicitly condoning his actions.
Humbert Humbert, though we see his actions only through his eyes, is not an overly likeable man. For all his talents as a poet he is selfish, vain, pathetic and weak, and when he lusts after Lolita from his vantage point of lodger in her mother's house, we shiver with disgust, not suspense. We can pity him, even enjoy his company, much as one can pity and enjoy the occasional wit of a doomed dictator, but from the first paragraph he is what he is; a freak, a monster, a pervert.
Dexter, on the other hand, is handsome, virile, tough, even generous. Thus, when he strangles a paedophile priest or disembowels a child killer (crimes against children seem especially prevalent, perhaps capitalising on the still present hysteria over paedophilia) we're invited to look over his shoulder and grin. As this is all presented as casual entertainment, like Poirot and Miss Marple were to our grandparents, it gives me the creeps.
What are you thoughts?
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe