3.5 stars for the reading experience (I devoured! the writing, and I love that Nabokov called this his Romantic affair with the English language; however, it was not an easy read to plod through.)

4 stars for the way it made me feel after finishing it (being inside H.H.'s head was quite the thrill: he is pathetic, a dangerous maniacal man-child who, in spite of his affliction, will blame it on the "devilish" fillette Dolores (whom I found fascinating; we should indeed, create a safer world for our children and a safer world for women, as Nabokov's persona pointed out in the Foreword); on Claire Quilty (Nabokov's doppelganger technique is unparalleled); he will plead for his cause; he is the ultimate unreliable narrator created by a complex mind writing what I would call a classic quite aggressively feminist in its scope.

Probably 5 stars if the book ages well in my mind, if I look back on it, etc. The best ones linger.

"Yes, she said, this world was just one gag after another, if somebody wrote up her life nobody would ever believe it."