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Lolita Color Special 5 17
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Jenkins notes that Humbert even seems a bit more dignified and restrained than other residents of Ramsdale, particularly Lolita's aggressive mother, in a way that invites the audience to sympathize with Humbert. Humbert is portrayed as someone urbane and sophisticated trapped in a provincial small town populated by slightly lecherous people, a refugee from Old World Europe in an especially crass part of the New World. For example, Lolita's piano teacher comes across in the film as aggressive and predatory compared to which Humbert seems fairly restrained. The film character of John Farlow talks suggestively of "swapping partners" at a dance in a way that repels Humbert. Jenkins believes that in the film it is Quilty, not Humbert, who acts as the embodiment of evil. The expansion of Quilty's character and the way Quilty torments Humbert also invites the audience to sympathize with Humbert.
In the novel, Miss Pratt, the school principal at Beardsley, discusses with Humbert Dolores's behavioral issues and among other things persuades Humbert to allow her to participate in the dramatics group, especially one upcoming play. In the film, this role is replaced by Quilty disguised as a school psychologist named "Dr. Zempf". This disguise does not appear in the novel at all. In both versions, a claim is made that Lolita appears to be "sexually repressed", as she mysteriously has no interest in boys. Both Dr. Zempf and Miss Pratt express the opinion that this aspect of her youth should be developed and stimulated by dating and participating in the school's social activities. While Pratt mostly wants Humbert to let Dolores generally into the dramatic group, Quilty (as Zempf) is specifically focused on the high school play (written by Quilty and produced with some supervision from him) which Lolita has secretly rehearsed for (in both the film and novel). In the novel Miss Pratt naïvely believes this talk about Dolores' "sexual repression", while Quilty in his disguise knows the truth. Although Peter Sellers is playing only one character in this film, Quilty's disguise as Dr. Zempf allows him to employ a mock German accent that is quintessentially in the style of Sellers's acting.
So much for the moral of this book, which is not supposed to have one. Technically it is brilliant, Peter-De-Vries humor in a major key, combined with an eye for the revealing, clinching detail of social behavior. If there is one fault to find, it is that in making his hero his narrator, Mr. Nabokov has given him a task that is almost too big for a fictional character. Humbert tends to run over into a figure of allegory, of Everyman. When this happens it unbalances the book, for every other character belongs in a novel and is real as real can be. Humbert alone runs over at the edges, as if in painting him Mr. Nabokov had just a little too much color on his brush; which color is, I suppose, the moral that poor Humbert is carrying for his creator.
The insider threat, however, was just one of the security concerns voiced by officials on Sunday, as dozens of military, National Guard, law enforcement and Washington, D.C., officials and commanders went through a security rehearsal in northern Virginia. As many as three dozen leaders lined tables that ringed a massive color-coded map of D.C. reflected onto the floor. Behind them were dozens more National Guard officers and staff, with their eyes trained on additional maps and charts displayed on the wall.
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The colors mesmerize me. There is nothing but colors. No sound, no smell simply the colors that make up the farm. Red. Yellow. Green. They shout at me like mischievous fusillade. And I smell their victory. My brighter eyes have allowed me to understand. I know what they need. These colors. They need a place, other than here. The measurement of their scent must reveal their purpose. These colors. They need their space. As the world spins I see the Chinese women on the farm. Yes, this is the world where I will settle. No?
I will create a scent of blue and green and red and violet and I will help them. These colors. I can not hear them as it appears they are discussing the crop. It was not to long ago when I had to devour every odor, every scent, every fragrant and create a human likeness. But today as I’ve been thrown into this time and place, I will, I must devour vision. I will devour light. Color will rule. When you see blue you will feel blue. When you see green you will become envious of the wearer. I the Great Creator. The originator. You the prey of my day. You small weak pawn in my plan. How could you understand? I’ve manipulated your souls. Because of me you are whole. Your blue wool coat will make you sad. You fool! You will wear your red tie with your green suit and think you’re cool. Indeed. You’re imprisoned by your greed as I see you hide behind the barracks. But I will save you. This I will do for you.
So stand and face me so that I may conquer yet another scene from this miserable world of concoctions. The colors will be min and your minds will be rotten. Just because you see me in yellow. You will be happy. All misery will be forgotten. You will love me again. Not this Mao that consumes your mind. You will want to breath beneath my skin. And when I stand naked before you, you will not know me at all. For you do not possess my brighter eyes. In this way you are flawed.
The smell of Jasmine will no longer be the latest craze but instead the unknowing color is by what you’ll be betrayed. And if this is where I stayed, I would rule this phase. Too. Two. Rule. You. Me. I. The great creator and originator. You, the pawn. I will learn what I need to know Ms. Min, and you will ache to teach me more. My youth deceives you I see, I see. Did you not suspect that it could be me? Holding the measuring cup of your life. For you do not posses the brighter eyes. So let’s wait and see, when I see you tonight. When I creep beneath your skin and you know not what it means. When I betray your senses as mine have been betrayed and once again extract the color from your dreams. Does the point of view of Mao affect the journey, the passion, the outcome? "Autumn leaves called my name and asked if I really believed that she was an enemy off the country"(40) I will then extract their scent.
So this is purgatory? Do you truly believe you are beyond my reach? Oh how the farm would be my haven, my heaven. This is where I will…..what has happened? Where am I? What do you want to know? Is this my entrance exam? And now I am here. The French setting makes me feel at home. Trhe French have such a different stylistic view than the Chinese. Jean Paul Sartre’s No Exit finds me wondering if this hell of yours is indeed my heaven. I feel so tired. Sartre says, "Hell is other people", and since I am alone this can not be hell. I am fine and handsome and the only thing I can smell is the funk of my perspiration and the paste of my bad breathe. I cannot smell the emptiness of this room or sense the fullness of its emptiness. The mirrors display more than common beauty. I do not fit in. I stand out! It is too much, an overkill. It is too much! Aahhhughhh! Sartre has made it so that I must stay awake. What? "Twelve bullets through my chest. Sorry! I fear Im not good company among the dead." The dead? It cannot be. I am a part of this world. The dialogue has embraced me. Another voice. I’m from Paris." Yes that is right, this is Paris. " Have you left anyone down there?" Left anyone? The only thing I’ve left behind I can recreate here. But these voices do not seem pretty. So I will simply wait. I am Grenouille the Great. I would have never imagined just how powerful this wonderful creation of mine would be. But they knew. They felt the magic of my human potion and they loved me! They loved me! Those people. I never sensed it coming as they tore the clothes from my body taking my skin with them. I never sensed it. Of course! I never sensed it. I should have known then. I wish they would shut up! It appears to be three characters in this world of Sartre’s. He creates this hell that at first appears like heaven but then he sticks them together. Poor Souls. At least I am alone, so this must be heaven. The stories they tell makes it seem so real. As if hell is really like this. Perhaps for them. I like the male character, Garcin, he wants peace like I do as I hear him say, …" I stuck my fingers in my ears, but your voices thudded in my brain. Perhaps Garcin I can help you. I will have the valet bring me in as the fourth roommate and when you are asleep I will extract the feminity from Inez and the beauty from Estelle and help Sartre help you have piece. I know what you are going through, although I do not pity you, since this is only your hell and my heaven I will do this for you. Jean Paul Sartre, thank you for helping me see that there is only one thing left to do. Return to earth through the literary worlds of other writers and help the world see that there is only one creator. One great one, and as you have allowed me to see, here in No Exit, it is truly me, only me! Grenouille the Great!! And now Gabriel Garcia Marquez, I must visit the world of Pablo Escobar. Hah! I could have had them first. I gave them to you. When the beautiful woman lay her purse down I was there. Looking. Waiting. I could smell the fear coming. I have been to purgatory and to hell and now Mr. Drug Lord, do you think I couldn’t? Smell. The fear. But I decided to follow instead. My fine clothes given to me made me fit in with the crowd. My clothes are now finer than yours and if I can fool them, certainly I can fool you, Mr. drug lord. You and your drugs. And that’s what I must do. I will not rest until I’ve created such a scent that no one will ever want to touch the stuff again my friend. Mi amigo. They will not have to. Just the smell of my fragrance will put them on a natural high that will not destroy them but will destroy you! You are not as smart as you think. No one will want your goods and no one will trust you. But first. The hostages. I need them. They are mine. I’ll arrange their rescue with my special brew and you will not know what hit you. First they’ll be in your care and then they’ll disappear and you’ll wish that you weren’t, when I’m through. You see I know all about it. "Villamizar received a message from Escobar in which he said he would not release Maruja Pachon and Francisco Santos that day but the next-Monday, May 20-at seven in the evening. But on Tuesday at nine in the morning, Villamizar would have to go back to Medellin for Escobar’s surrender."(251) But you see, Gabriel has put me here for a reason. And so while they await your surrender I await your demise. Don’t worry you are safe Maruja. The words are too simple and the style too predictable to do you any harm. I can fell your emotion however, but I do not sense the pain. Do not be too cocky now. But it is the phrases like "The night thickened"(35) and "December 31st was their big night"(109), that keeps me here, prepared and ready. For it is me who is watching again, "the man returned, still dressed all in black, with frightnening attention had watched her for a long time, not caring that she was looking at him too,"(121) And it is me who will save you all and win. Thank you Gabriel Garcia Marquez for helping me realize my true purpose, and so that I may incorporate style into my plan I must revisit the Chinese world, but this time it is Don DeLillo’s Mao II and this time I can hear the sounds and smell the power. I adore the direction of this novel. There are so many ways to give a sense of time and place and wso many styles to choose from but DeLillo does it in such a traditional way that I forget I am in China. He puts me directly in the scenes like with"Karen was in the bedroom looking at the gift Scott had brought back from the city."(62) I am in that bedroom with Karen. Each Chapter opens in this way like with chapter ten, Scott was still doing lists, moving toward late May now, making lists of things that needed doing, doing the things, going along project by project, room by room."(139). Not only do I find myself wanting to peer over his shoulder to embrace his urgency but I appreciate the sense of exactness and perfection. The style has captured my heart Mr. DeLillo.