(Please read the previous post first!) A love letter to Nabakov continued….
….I secretly enjoy being fetishized, something I should not admit. I love to be adored, and pampered and preened. Wearing little dresses, my shoe tied. Can I relate to Lolita? Simultaneously Lolita and Humbert the barbarian?
I wouldn’t say I understand obsession but I know it. I know what it is like to be held in its thrall. Perhaps that is why I have this insatiable desire to repeat the reading of Lolita again and again. Or is there something that I am subconsciously looking for, trying to draw out, like a greasy pore underneath the hot compress of a heated woollen towel, whose job it is to ease the aperture open in order to discharge of its contents.
