Half-way into Russian-American author Vladimir Nabokov’s 1955 novel, narrator Humbert Humbert, recounting his obsession, victimisation and eventual kidnapping of a twelve-year old girl after becoming her step-father, pens a poetical classified:
Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze.
Hair: brown. Lips: scarlet.
Age: five thousand and three hundred days
Profession: None, or Starlet.
Where are you hiding, Dolores Haze?
Why are you hiding, darling?
(I talk in a daze, I walk in a maze,
I cannot get out, said the starling).
Where are you riding, Dolores Haze?
What make is the magic carpet?
Is a Cream Cougar the present craze?
And where are you parked, my car pet?
Who is your hero, Dolores Haze?
Still one of those blue-caped star-men?
Oh the balmy days and the palmy bays,
And the cars, and the bars, my Carmen!
Oh Dolores, that juke-box hurts!
Are you still dancin’, darlin’?
(Both in worn Levis, both in torn T-shirts,
And I, in my corner, snarlin’).
Happy, happy is gnarled McFate
Touring the States with a child wife,
Ploughing his Molly in every State
Among the protected wild life.
My Dolly, my folly! Her eyes were vair,
And never closed when I kissed her.
Know an old perfume called Soleil Vert?
Are you from Paris, mister?
L'autre soir un air froid d’opรฉra m’alita;
Son fรฉlรฉ—bien fol est qui sy fie!
Il neige, le dรฉcor s’รฉcroule, Lolita!
Lolita, qu’ai-je fait de ta vie?
Dying, dying, Lolita Haze,
Of hate and remorse, I'm dying.
And again my hairy fist I raise,
And again I hear you crying.
Officer, officer, there they go—
In the rain, where that lighted store is!
And her socks are white, and I love her so,
And her name is Haze, Dolores.
Officer, officer, there they are—
Dolores Haze and her lover!
Whip out your gun and follow that car.
Now tumble out, and take cover.
Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze.
Her dream-gray gaze never flinches.
Ninety pounds is all she weighs
With a height of sixty inches.
My car is limping, Dolores Haze,
And the last long lap is the hardest,
And I shall be dumped where the weed decays,
And the rest is rust and stardust.
The fragrance mentioned in the seventh stanza Soleil vert (Green Sun, Humbert was previously an ad copy writer for the industry) is a fictional perfume but is also the French title of the 1966 novel Make Room! Make Room! and the cinematic adaptation of Soylent Green set in the year 2022 (close), in possibly another authoritarian manoeuvre to normalisation and acceptance—after all Romeo and Juliet were underage. I suspect that Nabokov did not suspect that his work would, unironically, become such an American cultural touchstone, ignoring the observations on culture and becoming the same monster of incuriosity as the protagonist, sanitised and made family-friendly like what may be yet to come.
Via Clive Thompson’s latest Linkfest—with back links to previous research on the topic, we return to the subject of growing crops underneath solar panels, addressing some of reasonable objections to industrial scale solar-farms (see previously) taking up arable land. Colocation provides numerous mutual benefits that are only beginning to be factored in—not least of which is public support for solar when it’s dual-use but also the symbiosis between plants and their artificial photovoltaic counterparts, many plants growing better with the added shade and the panels trap water vapour, yielding quite impressive leafy greens and the photovoltaic array also get the advantage from the undergrowth by regulating ambient heat and helping to maintain an optimal operating temperature by their off-gassing. Much more at the links above.
