Lo, plain Lo
The opening paragraph of Humbert Humbert's manuscript introduces a taxonomy of names for the same girl: "She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita." This sequence does more than list nicknames; it maps the social roles and private fantasies that the child Dolores Haze is forced to occupy. Each name corresponds to a distinct sphere of existence—the domestic morning, the casual afternoon, the institutional classroom, the legal document—and each is governed by a different set of expectations. The final name, "Lolita," belongs to Humbert alone, and it is the only one that carries his possessive claim: "in my arms." The passage thus announces, in the very first pages of the book, the fundamental conflict between the real girl and the imagined nymphet that Humbert will spend the rest of the narrative trying to reconcile.
The Naming System as a Map of Power
Humbert's naming system is not a neutral description but a deliberate act of control. "Lo, plain Lo" suggests a stripped-down, unadorned version of the child, the one who exists before Humbert's desires impose themselves. "Lola in slacks" introduces a slightly more sophisticated, almost theatrical persona, one that belongs to the world of casual dress and public appearance. "Dolly at school" places her within the institutional framework of education, where she is a student among other students, subject to the authority of teachers and the scrutiny of peers. "Dolores on the dotted line" is the legal identity, the name that appears on official documents—birth certificates, report cards, marriage licenses—and that will later appear on the letter she signs as "Mrs. Richard F. Schiller." Each of these names represents a version of Dolores that Humbert can observe from the outside but cannot fully possess. Only "Lolita" is his, and it is the name he uses when he imagines her as an object of desire, stripped of her own will and consciousness.
The Eroticized Name and Its Precursor
The name "Lolita" is immediately linked to a precursor, Annabel Leigh, whose death consolidated Humbert's obsession with girl-children. Humbert writes: "Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, a certain initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea." The echo of Edgar Allan Poe's "Annabel Lee" is deliberate, and it establishes a literary genealogy for Humbert's obsession: he is not merely a man with a perversion but a man who has constructed a romantic mythology around his desire. The name "Lolita" is the vessel into which he pours this mythology, and it is the name he uses when he addresses the reader directly: "Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul." The incantatory rhythm of this opening—"Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth"—turns the name itself into a physical sensation, a kind of oral pleasure that precedes any encounter with the actual girl.
The Real Girl vs. the Created Image
Throughout the novel, Humbert struggles to maintain the distinction between the real Dolores Haze and the Lolita he has created. The naming system is his primary tool for this struggle. When he is frustrated by her ordinary behavior—her vulgarity, her boredom, her interest in other boys—he retreats into the private name, as if by calling her "Lolita" he can restore the fantasy. But the real girl keeps breaking through. At the end of the novel, when he visits her in Coalmont and finds her pregnant, worn, and married to another man, he is forced to confront the gap between his creation and the actual person. She is no longer the nymphet of his imagination; she is Dolores Schiller, a young woman with a life of her own. The naming system that once gave him power now reveals its limits: he can call her "Lolita" in his memoir, but he cannot make her be that girl again.
The Significance of the Phrase
The phrase "Lo, plain Lo" encapsulates the central irony of Humbert's narrative. He presents himself as a connoisseur of language, a man who can distinguish between the plain and the poetic, the ordinary and the enchanted. But his linguistic sophistication is also a form of self-deception. By insisting that "Lolita" is the true name, he blinds himself to the fact that "Lo, plain Lo" is the real person—the child who eats candy, reads movie magazines, and eventually escapes his control. The phrase thus serves as a warning to the reader: do not be seduced by Humbert's prose, for it is the instrument of his delusion as much as his confession.