When I read this book in my second year of high school, I didn't actually feel much, maybe it was a colorful vertigo. What is surprising is the above sentence.
I watched the 98 version of the film yesterday, and the intuition is very different from the tone of the original, but maybe the impression is vague, so I just discuss this film here. In any case, Jeremy Irons was just too emotional to be able to completely and completely empathize with him and identify with his character.
"I looked at her, looked and looked. All my life, with all my heart, I love her the most, sure, as sure as I'm going to die... She can fade, she can wither, whatever. But I only look at her At a glance, all kinds of tenderness flooded into my heart..."
Finally, he looked at her pale, bloated and completely different, and cried, saying that he loved her, and that he still wanted to be with her, forever. It's so touching, the man's eyes, expression, smile, sadness, helplessness, fate. My tears also rustled down.
At the beginning, he was tired and confused, driving casually on the road in the country, with bloody hairpins and bloody pistols, and the love leaking from the corner of his mouth.
In childhood memories, the girl was wearing pure white, baggy dresses, taking them off with a misty and gentle expression. That light blue thin belt is entangled with the love and affection of a lifetime.
There are so many happy memories in this film that it's heartbreaking to think about it later. For me, the most moving moment was not the girl lying on the grass, the curves of her young body soaked in water, but it was really classic and seductive enough. Before leaving, the girl ran up the stairs, slammed into his arms, smiled softly and innocently, and left quickly. The man stood there, lost, fascinated and happy. Irons' expression at that moment was enough to impress any woman. He came back to his senses and ran to the window again, she disappeared from view, he entered her room, threw himself in her closet, and grabbed the residual breath of the girl. His usual hesitation, but also with an air of grace, as well as melancholy and sadness, is as deep as a pool of water.
Little demon girls always exist in this world, and some men will naturally love them like a fate. Even if it's not a little demon girl, it's just a pure and lovely or shocking girl, it's normal to fall in love with them. This was never a pedophile issue. Because they are young, they don't care about the world, even precocious little witches, they can tempt men, possess men, and use men unscrupulously, because they are willing. It's not a moral issue, I've always thought it was as absurd as thinking mathematics is good or bad. It's just about passion and lust, and the interweaving of the two.
Vulgar, sleazy, precocious, seductive, there is nothing better for a sophisticated, melancholic, sensitive and neurotic middle-aged man. Love her, possess her, so afraid of her leaving. She did everything possible to escape, to tempt, to conquer, to explore.
He was doomed to lose her, so those sweet memories, his madness for her, were heartbreaking.
Women are cruel, so are girls, and even more so with little demon girls.
Don't know what to say.
Light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul, Lolita. "
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