What Jeffrey Epstein Didn’t Understand About Lolita
One of the minor annoyances of being an incorrigible pervert is that you risk having your own bookshelf testify against you. Some spines are better turned inward. A pederast might hide away Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice, in which a middle-aged German author ogles a lithe young Polish boy. A hyper-literate rapist should camouflage his copy of A Clockwork Orange with a more consensual dust jacket. It is therefore curious that the late financier and convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein—who died in jail in 2019 while awaiting trial on charges of trafficking minors—flaunted his supposed love of Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita. The book, first published in France in 1955, is so closely identified with pedophilia that it spawned not one but two words, Lolita and nymphet, for girls whom grown men find sexually tempting. Rather than take the obvious advice—Under no circumstances advertise your obsession with Lolita—Epstein apparently did the opposite.