One need not necessarily have read Vladimir Nabokov’s novel that is so controversial that even people who do not know Lolita is a novel are familiar with the general idea in order to appreciate Paula Vogel’s play How I Learned to Drive, but it certainly does not hurt. The underage object of the desire of a middle-aged man in Nabokov’s story is known as Lolita and the underage object of desire of a middle-aged man in the play is known as Li’l Bit. They don’t exactly sound the same, but they are close enough that the relationship becomes obvious. That is just the beginning.
While most infamous as a (wildly misapprehended) story of pedophilia, much of the satisfaction for the serious reader of Lolita comes from its satirical crazy-quilt portrait of America as seen through a road trip with stops at cheap motels along the motels. There is no road trip per se in Vogel’s play, but the title indicates that automobiles also play a part here. This obsession with Americana is further intensified by the theatrical intrusion of an off-stage voice announcing a sort of subtitle to certain sequences; subtitles such as “Driving in First Gear” and “You and the Reverse Gear.” Despite being limited by stage convention and as well as much more restricted setting than Lolita, cars loom large in both stories.
In addition to these similarities, the character of the mothers of both young girls are similarly constructed as being barely there. Lolita’s mother is killed off as a matter of necessity for Humbert Humbert to whisk her away on the road trip. Li’l Bit’s admirer is named Uncle Peck, but he is not a blood relation any more than Humbert Humbert; both men play at being related in perhaps a twisted desire to make their relationship more poisonous than it already is. And therein lies the big difference which separates Vogel’s story from its obvious source of inspiration.
Although certainly some will argue the point—a long history of being one of the most banned novels in the country supports that contention—Lolita is not really about pedophilia. Millions of readers looking for a quick thrill in Nabokov’s novel by going straight to the illicit sex scenes have been woefully disappointed because the story of the older man who wants his romantic partner to be forever trapped in immaturity and adoration is symbolic throughout and through. It is a novel in which pedophilia is so deeply steeped in metaphor that its infamy can at times appear to be merely some sort of joke.
By contrast, even though Vogel is also clearly interested in pursuing larger themes with her story, it is quite intensely a story of pedophilia. And it makes sense that this is so. Nabokov’s story is told from the perspective of the older man who would quite naturally see his perverse desire for underaged girls in the best light possible—as metaphor, for instance. On the other hand, Vogel tells the story from the girl’s point of view and she would quite naturally see it more clearly for what it is. One is a victim and the other merely sees himself as a victim. Narratively speaking, that represents a much finer line than it does legally or morally speaking and it is that line which makes all the difference in whether one views the stories of older man corrupting young girls as a story of pedophilia or as a metaphor about something else entirely.
