Throughout the novel, Humbert Humbert is often a highly unreliable narrator, describing events in a way that reflects his own perception, biases, and delusions. Often, he employs obvious hyperbole in his narration. When describing his adolescent relationship to a girl named Annabel Leigh, for example, Humbert writes:
All at once we were madly, clumsily, shamelessly, agonizingly in love with each other; hopelessly, I should add, because that frenzy of mutual possession might have been assuaged only by our actually imbibing and assimilating every particle of each other’s soul and flesh; but there we were, unable even to mate as slum children would have so easily found an opportunity to do.
Here, Humbert’s dramatic and exaggerated language reflects his own lingering fixation, as an adult, with the young girl with whom he had his first sexual experiences. He and Annabel were, he claims, “madly, clumsily, shamelessly, agonizingly in love with each other,” both trapped in a “frenzy of mutual possession” that could only have “been assuaged by our actually imbibing and assimilating every particle of each other’s soul and flesh.” His language is highly hyperbolic, as he claims that he and Annabel desired to be fully merged into one being, both physically and spiritually. Humbert’s recollections of the past are often unreliable due to his characteristic tendency to exaggerate, particularly when describing the adolescent girls with whom he is obsessed.
Humbert Humbert is a classic example of an unreliable narrator. At various points, he manipulates the narrative in order to present himself in a more flattering light despite his long-term abuse of a young girl. Just as often, his own distorted perception colors the narrative, suggesting self-deception. His unreliability is emphasized in a passage where he describes what he considers to be the “mutual” nature of his attraction to Lolita:
All at once I knew I could kiss her throat or the wick of her mouth with perfect impunity. I knew she would let me do so, and even close her eyes as Hollywood teaches [...] A modern child, an avid reader of movie magazines, an expert in dream-slow close-ups, might not think it too strange, I guessed, if a handsome, intensely virile grown-up friend—too late. The house was suddenly vibrating with voluble Louise’s voice telling Mrs. Haze who had just come home about a dead something she and Leslie Tomson had found in the basement [...]
Deeply fixated upon Lolita, the adolescent daughter of his landlady, Humbert quickly convinces himself that she returns his affections. Here, Humbert predicts that she would allow him to kiss her “with perfect impunity” and, further, that she would “not think it too strange” for him to approach her romantically. Additionally, he characterizes himself in highly flattering terms as “a handsome, intensely virile grown-up friend,” though he has little reason to believe Lolita or others perceive him as such. Here, and throughout the novel, Humbert’s narration becomes notably unreliable as he attempts to convince himself and the reader that there is nothing wrong with his relationship to Lolita.
At various points in the novel, Humbert openly acknowledges the unreliability of his own narration, casting aspects of his story into doubt. He admits, for example, that he has made errors regarding certain dates and that other memories are not so clear. After Charlotte Haze writes a letter confessing her love to Humbert, for example, he discusses his own occasional manipulation of facts and details:
What I present here is what I remember of the letter, and what I remember of the letter I remember verbatim (including that awful French). It was at least twice longer. I have left out a lyrical passage which I more or less skipped at the time, concerning Lolita’s brother who died at 2 when she was 4, and how much I would have liked him. Let me see what else can I say? Yes. There is just a chance that “the vortex of the toilet” (where the letter did go) is my own matter-of-fact contribution. She probably begged me to make a special fire to consume it.
Here, he insists that his recollection of the letter is accurate, and that he has presented the contents of the letter “verbatim,” including her “awful French.” However, he quickly admits that the actual letter was “at least twice longer” and that he has “left out” a lengthy passage “concerning Lolita’s brother who died at 2 when she was 4.” Reflecting upon the question of accuracy, he further admits that he himself invented a line in which Charlotte begs him to rip the letter up and throw it in the toilet. In this passage, he is surprisingly frank about his own dishonest presentation of events.