I'm sorry; I don't think we need another Lolita. One is enough and deeply effective. The play on form is interesting, particularly in how it utilizes "You", putting the reader as the victim of the narrator's obsession. It is operating in the same space as Lolita and other books that have followed. But why? To what purpose? To what goal? Of Course, My Heavenly Favorite is specific to its cultural context and era, but still it feels like it's treading deeply familiar ground without fresh perspective. I simply need zero more books from men that focus on the perpetrator of these terrible crimes and not the victims.