D.H. Lawrence's Short Stories Thread

[Janine]

Hey just to let you know, I haven't dissapared upon you, but this week I probably will not really be around very much. Next week I will most likely be able to once more rejoin the discussion.

That is ok, Dark Muse. Yeah, this week is kind of bad for me too with the holiday and everything. Hope you have a great Thanksgiving!

[Virgil]

This is so much like Lawrence's view of the Mexicans in "The Plumed Serpent" and in that novel he often gets repetitious with his observing/describing them and their attitude. He seems to either like the dark aspects of these people, or a brighter light he sees on the horizon for them...actually, I will look it up, but I think at one time Kate observes Ciprano as a tower of light. Lawrence seems here to see a sort of 'demon' in them, also. But to L, the 'demon' was not a bad thing. He rather revered it. If you recall in the film "Coming Through" when he asked advice from the Hopkins, Mrs. Hopkins asked 'have you asked your demon? ' This was referring to his situation with Frieda, and what steps he should take next; he replied he had asked the demon and 'he has recommended crucifixion'. That was biographical; I read it in several of my biographies. He also mentions this demon in many a letter he wrote, even as far back as those early years. When younger he once saw a production with Sarah Bernhardt and ran out of the threater terrified; yet he spoke of her performance as wonderful, even beautiful and 'that all her demons were pouring forth'. I have read several accounts of this experience, he seemed to be highly impressed with that experience and it seemed key for him in later years in his writing. Lawrence also saw God in the darker light. He did not have anytime for the tame God, as seen that way by the majority, but rather wanted the mysterious dark God, even the wrathful God we see in the Old Testment. I think in this story and TPS, which this story leads up to, this idea of the demon is very prevalent and major and it relates back to his father and to the blood-consciousness. He also abhored the dead Christ on the crucifixes in Mexico and the sad devotion people had to those iconic images. He wanted the breathing alive Christ of the flesh and blood and he wanted that he be the resurrected Christ, not the morbid still dead bleeding horrid image of the Christ on the cross, so prevalent and popular in the Mexican culture.

This is just one aspect of this story. I will try and comment more later on about what other things you wrote in this last post, Virgil. Pretty much I agree with all you say and can maybe expand on some of your thoughts here.

I think also what I said above also addresses your question on the demon, here:



I think that Romero doesn't become the demon, I rather think he had this dark element in his nature all along. It is just that it fully surfaces towards the end. It takes his utmost frustration with The Princess to bring it out full-blown. True that Dollie's father also has that 'demon' aspect within him his makeup and he knows it. Doesn't he mention that he and his daugther have it? I will review the text. It is as though this demon is a wild spirit or a natural spirit unleased in this story at the end. His animal instincts take over. Lawrence probably saw this demon as a sort of 'holy ghost' as well. I definitely think Dollie had the demon as well. In Lawrence's eyes all people possessed a sort of demon; few recognised it; most supressed it. It is a strange notion but demon is not that new an idea. Doesn't this idea occur all throughout literature. In Hamlet surely he was possessed by a personal demon that surfaces and drive him on. In Hesse works he mentions the 'demon' often and it is key to some of much of work. I think any piece of literature that delves into the subconsious aspects of the characters display the demon idea. Isn't it the darker side of man, in essense. I believe that Lawrence believed one must see both sides for the person to be considered whole. For a conventional person, yes, this is a very odd notion, but is it? If one compared the Old and New Testment of the Bible, one can clearly see the darkness and the light and they make up the whole.
Excellent post Janine!!! I fully agree with everything you say. I do think demon was a positive trait for L, but it's sort of stange that Dollie has one too, though she seems to lack any blood consciouness.


Hey just to let you know, I haven't dissapared upon you, but this week I probably will not really be around very much. Next week I will most likely be able to once more rejoin the discussion.
That's alright. Why don't we wait until after thanksgiving for the next section.

[Janine]

Excellent post Janine!!! I fully agree with everything you say. I do think demon was a positive trait for L, but it's sort of stange that Dollie has one too, though she seems to lack any blood consciouness.

Thanks Virgil, that was complimentary...appreciate that. Somehow my thoughts all seemed to come together today; but I am not done with your long post or the long segment of text that you posted. I would like to take that paragraph by paragraph and comment.

About her demon - my response would have to be 'not really'. I believe that Lawrence believed that we all possessed the 'demon'. Just because she cannot connect with it' or the blood consciousness, doesn't mean she does not have the potential to. Unfortunately, in this case she did not embrass it and there is the whole gist of the story. In Lawrence's eyes this was a deficiency in The Princess, not the fact she did not have the demon, but that she could not get intouch with it and realise it - thus experience a 'transfiguration'. As you know 'transfiguration' was all to Lawrence. Just look back to the other stories we read - one comes to mind prominently - 'The Horse-Dealer's Daughter' - that was a case of the woman giving up her will to the man and the two of then experinced this transfiguration. I am not saying this is my idea of one, the will of the woman being reliquished but it was the way Lawrence saw it. He was Adam and he expected Eve to comply and give in to his will. Some might reduce this to the word 'furfillment', and it is that, too, but I think that Lawrence felt it was much more than furfillment - he felt it embraced the great mystery in the union of man and woman. This is the essense of Lawrence, always present in all of his work. Lawrence's sense of 'transfiguration' is as a religious experience, such as being filled with the Holy Ghost. He mentions this quite a bit in "The Plumed Serpent". The two go away quite transformed from the experience. In this stories case , The Princess comes away untouched and uneffected and her virginity is said to be intact; spiritually it is still intact.


That's alright. Why don't we wait until after thanksgiving for the next section.

Good idea. Guess what? I am actually cooking a turkey tomorrow - a fresh one was available at our local grocery onsale. Just a 10lb one. I will work on the stuffing tonight and then we will have candied sweets and a few other nice easy things tomorrow - it will be great, even though it will only be my mom and I.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/NormanRockwell/NormanRockwel1919-11-22_TheLiterary.jpg

I hope you don't think I look like this woman! hahaha :lol:

[Virgil]

Thanks somehow my thoughts all seemed to come together today; but I am not done with your long post or the long segment you posted. I would like to take that paragraph by paragraph and comment. About her demon - my response would have to be 'not really'. I believe that Lawrence believed that we all possessed the demon. Just because she cannot connect with it or the blood consciousness, doen't mean she does not have the potential to. Unfortunately, in this case she did not embrass it and there is the whole gist of the story. In Lawrence's eyes this was a deficiency in The Princess, not the fact she did not have the demon, but that she could not get intouch with it and realise it - thus experience a transfiguration. As you know 'transfiguration' was all to Lawrence. Just look back to the other stories we read - one comes to mind prominently - 'The Horse-Dealer's Daughter' - that was a case of the woman giving up her will to the man and the two of them experinced this transfiguration. Some might reduce this to the word 'furfillment' but I think that Lawrence felt it was more than that - he felt it encompassed a great mystery in the union of man and woman. This is the essense of Lawrence, always present in all of his work. Lawrence sense of transfiguration is as a religious experience, such as being filled with the Holy Ghost. He mentions this quite a bit in "The Plumed Serpent".


Yes perfectly said!! You are on the ball today. What happened? :p It must be because you're feeling better. Good to hear. Good luck with the turkey. We'll be going to my mother's and we've got an 18+ pound bird. That's huge and there will only be five of us. Plenty of left overs. :D

[Janine]

Yes perfectly said!! You are on the ball today. What happened? :p It must be because you're feeling better. Good to hear. Good luck with the turkey. We'll be going to my mother's and we've got an 18+ pound bird. That's huge and there will only be five of us. Plenty of left overs. :D

haha...that is the furthest from the truth. I am not feeling as good, as yesterday; so it must be the extra drugs I took for pain, etc. One of them actually does make me more attentive and focused - odd isn't it? I am slowly becoming a druggie, but I seem to be more clear headed - very odd...:confused: No wonder all those authors were drunkards or on something. This pain pill seems to make me smarter or maybe it just appears that way. I can BS better when uninhibited.:lol:

Wow, an 18 pounder! I love the left-overs; turkey sandwiches, soup, etc . Well, no doubt we will have them too, so I am not complaining. My sister can eat the dark meat; she likes that best; maybe I can even make turkey soup, I love that. I have the stuff here to make it, too. We will have my chive stuffing - I grew those chives myself and froze them. It is delicious in the stuffing - try it sometime. Chives is a cinch to grow, requires very little care. Even neglecting it won't kill it.

Well, enjoy your day and eat whatever you feel like eatting and have some red wine, too...or is it white, with turkey? We are having pumpkin pie, but not homemade....still it looks rather yummy. I love pumpkin pie, don't you? It is my son's all-time favorite.

[Janine]

I guess you are all waiting for me...I will work on this later tonight. I think I had a few more comments on that segment of text that you posted, Virgil. I am pretty busy today, other than computer, but will try and concentrate and fit it in. I will take it from the last paragraphs I commented on. You liked those. Let's hope I can think as well today. My attention span has been kind of limited lately, but I will give it my best effort.

[Dark Muse]

I just haven't got around to comitting yet. I was hoping to get to do so sometime today or this evening

[Janine]

I just haven't got around to comitting yet. I was hoping to get to do so sometime today or this evening

Oh good, glad to see you back, Dark Muse. I can see you have been busy with your Poe group. That one really does look interesting. I wish there were more hours in the day. I would love to explore Poe's works but I still haven't gotten around to it and he has been on my list for years. I know my father adored his writing.

[Dark Muse]

I find this notion of a "demon" very interesting. What exactly does Lawrence mean? Certainly Romero becomes a sort of demon at the end of the story. And Dollie's father has that demon in him. It's almost as if it's a spirit, a wld spirit that the person doesn't have control over. Does Dollie have a demon in her? I guess so since their demons were supposed to have married. Very strange notion.

The notion of the demon is an interesting and rather strange one. According to the speach that her father gave everyone has a demon, yet in someway it seems that her and her fahter's demons are stronger then that of other people. It is her demon that makes her the last princess. It also seems as if they are the only ones who are truly aware of thier demons. Whiles others are oblivious to this thing that is a part of them and did not understand it is this demon that is the reason why they act the way they do.

Just what the demon is, is hard to put a finger on. It seems almost like the soul, or the essence of a person, the core of thier being, the thing which is why people are the way they are. But it also seems to suggest people cannot help who and what they are, or the things they do, becasue the demon is in complete control, and I think it said within the fathers speach that people cannot help the way thier demons are, or something to that effect.

[Janine]

The notion of the demon is an interesting and rather strange one. According to the speach that her father gave everyone has a demon, yet in someway it seems that her and her fahter's demons are stronger then that of other people. It is her demon that makes her the last princess. It also seems as if they are the only ones who are truly aware of thier demons. Whiles others are oblivious to this thing that is a part of them and did not understand it is this demon that is the reason why they act the way they do.

Just what the demon is, is hard to put a finger on. It seems almost like the soul, or the essence of a person, the core of thier being, the thing which is why people are the way they are. But it also seems to suggest people cannot help who and what they are, or the things they do, becasue the demon is in complete control, and I think it said within the fathers speach that people cannot help the way thier demons are, or something to that effect.

Dark Muse, I think we can explore this idea of 'demon' from Lawrence's point of view, even futher. I will try to find some references to it, in his letters, I have several volumes here I can refer to. This might shed some light on just what Lawrence means by it.

It is a good observation, on your part to delve into it, and see that father and daughter both possess it strongly, but also do other people - in fact, I think all people could be said to have the potential for this, but few develop it or recognise it. I will see what I can come up with later tonight and get back to you tomorrow. This idea is quite central to the theme of this story and of others by L.

[Janine]

Ok, we seem to be at a standstill here. I decided to drop the demon questions right now and address that issue at near the end of the story. I didn't get a chance to look up those letters yet and this seems to be going nowhere, so I will attempt to address these paragraphs. Hey, Virgil, you kind of posted too much text at one time. I find I get overwhelmed with that much to discuss. I know this is a long story so I think it will run through to January - maybe longer. Perhaps we should have made it a few months.


But this spark was the difference between him and the mass of men. It gave a certain alert sensitiveness to his bearing and a certain beauty to his appearance. He wore a low-crowned black hat, instead of the ponderous headgear of the usual Mexican, and his clothes were thinnish and graceful. Silent, aloof, almost imperceptible in the landscape, he was an admirable guide, with a startling quick intelligence that anticipated difficulties about to rise. He could cook, too, crouching over the camp-fire and moving his lean deft brown hands. The only fault he had was that he was not forthcoming, he wasn't chatty and cosy.

So here we see a very vivid description of Romero. The Princess percieves a 'spark' there...interesting word to use....sparks can ignite dynamite; also a spark can start a fire and fire and light are always significant to Lawrence. Romero has a "certain alert sensitiveness to his bearing", this is so animalistic - as animals are aware of their surroundings and any little sound of danger, so it is with Romero. He dresses more dapper and graceful than the typical Mexican. He is "thinnish and graceful". He is "silent, aloof and almost impreceptible in the landscape" - that too, seems to me to describe an animal, such as a graceful deer or panther. He is one with the landscape; therefore this is so intune with Lawrence's ideas of 'blood consciousness' and the ties of humans to nature and animals. Even his "startling quick intelligence" reminds me of the cunning of certain animals - the wolf comes to mind and I think also of Lawrence well known short book - "The Fox." The last part - about the "lean deft brown hands" recalls me to the book about the gypsy - he would be described like this. In fact in "The Virgin and the Gypsy" his hands are actually emphasised in a kind of cleansing routine. Like the gypsy, Romero is quiet and within himself and not "forthcoming, chatty or cossy."


"Oh, don't send Romero with us," the Jews would say. "One can't get any response from him."

Another indication that Romero is not much of a conversationalist. I think this would also refer to the Jews as being more chatty and intellectual in nature, but I am not sure. Jews were not always looked on favorably by the English back then.


Tourists come and go, but they rarely see anything, inwardly. None of them ever saw the spark at the middle of Romero's eye; they were not alive enough to see it.

The 'spark' again and the fact that the tourists were not alive enough to perceive it. Only The Princess detects this spark. Interesting parellel here again with "The Virgin and The Gypsy". The people around the woman protaganist - none could see what she sees. Same as with this story. It is all in the perception.


The Princess caught it one day, when she had him for a guide. She was fishing for trout in the canyon, Miss Cummins was reading a book, the horses were tied under the trees, Romero was fixing a proper fly on her line. He fixed the fly and handed her the line, looking up at her. And at that moment she caught the spark in his eye. And instantly she knew that he was a
gentleman, that his 'demon', as her father would have said, was a fine demon. And instantly her manner towards him changed.

It sounds like a movie doesn't it? haha...

Again, pretty specific about the 'demon' and one can see that she does not percieve that a demon is a bad thing, but a good thing...her father instilled this idea in her...."a fine demon"....therefore she see Romero in this light at this part of the story.

[Virgil]

Wow, I was able to get into lit net today. Whoo-hooo!


Ok, we seem to be at a standstill here. I decided to drop the demon questions right now and address that issue at near the end of the story. I didn't get a chance to look up those letters yet and this seems to be going nowhere, so I will attempt to address these paragraphs. Hey, Virgil, you kind of posted too much text at one time. I find I get overwhelmed with that much to discuss. I know this is a long story so I think it will run through to January - maybe longer. Perhaps we should have made it a few months.

I thought you wanted me to move faster. :lol: Ok, we'll slow down.


So here we see a very vivid description of Romero. The Princess percieves a 'spark' there...interesting word to use....sparks can ignite dynamite; also a spark can start a fire and fire and light are always significant to Lawrence. Romero has a "certain alert sensitiveness to his bearing", this is so animalistic - as animals are aware of their surroundings and any little sound of danger, so it is with Romero.
Janine, this is an excellent find, something I had never picked up. To characterize Romero as "animalistic" is very important to the story. The reason Dollie gives for going on her adventure that leads to the climax is that she wanted to see the wild animals in their environment. I don't have the eact quote but i will certainly highlight it when we get to it. The fact that she can't see Romero's inherent animalism is a statement in itself. She doesn't really want to see the wild animals in their reality; she wants to see a romanitcized version of the wild animals.


He dresses more dapper and graceful than the typical Mexican. He is "thinnish and graceful". He is "silent, aloof and almost impreceptible in the landscape" - that too, seems to me to describe an animal, such as a graceful deer or panther. He is one with the landscape; therefore this is so intune with Lawrence's ideas of 'blood consciousness' and the ties of humans to nature and animals. Even his "startling quick intelligence" reminds me of the cunning of certain animals - the wolf comes to mind and I think also of Lawrence well known short book - "The Fox." The last part - about the "lean deft brown hands" recalls me to the book about the gypsy - he would be described like this. In fact in "The Virgin and the Gypsy" his hands are actually emphasised in a kind of cleansing routine. Like the gypsy, Romero is quiet and within himself and not "forthcoming, chatty or cossy."
Very good thoughts.


Another indication that Romero is not much of a conversationalist. I think this would also refer to the Jews as being more chatty and intellectual in nature, but I am not sure. Jews were not always looked on favorably by the English back then.

The 'spark' again and the fact that the tourists were not alive enough to perceive it. Only The Princess detects this spark. Interesting parellel here again with "The Virgin and The Gypsy". The people around the woman protaganist - none could see what she sees. Same as with this story. It is all in the perception.
Yes, Dollie has a romanticized perception.


Again, pretty specific about the 'demon' and one can see that she does not percieve that a demon is a bad thing, but a good thing...her father instilled this idea in her...."a fine demon"....therefore she see Romero in this light at this part of the story.
Yes, that demon is a rather amorphous concept of Lawrence. I'm not sure exactly what to make of it.

[Janine]

Wow, I was able to get into lit net today. Whoo-hooo!

Cool, :Dare you on now? I hope you be careful though. It might be nothing but you can't be sure. You really should wait till nightime to post. More happens at night here anyway...lots of night-owls like me!;):lol:


I thought you wanted me to move faster. :lol: Ok, we'll slow down.

No, not really, remember when I asked you, if we did this 'longish' story, if you could post segments that would not overwhelm me? I think when I saw that last chunk of text, I moaned and then quickly departed and put off answering it - I get overwhelmed when you throw too much at me at once. My feeble brain just works that way. I am more detailed minded and have to work by stages - it has always been that way with me - maybe I have a little bit of attention deficit; I can work in a perimeter only if I keep it organised - jumping around from beginning to end and then to middle is just not possible for me. I have to build my concept of the story starting from the first parts of text. Can you understand this? That is why I limited myself last night and before to only a few of the text paragraphs - then I could zero in and really see what was going on. That way I can post and appear brilliant....just kidding with you...I'm a little more humble than that. Literature does not actually come easy to me, Virgil, remember I am an artist first in my soul and I think actually this is why I am drawn to authors like Hardy and Lawrence - because they both were artistic and they both use words like paint - very visual authors indeed. I have to look at their canvas and see the individual words and they are like brush strokes and they add up eventually to the entire painting - the story and the concept. See what I am driving at?


Janine, this is an excellent find, something I had never picked up. To characterize Romero as "animalistic" is very important to the story. The reason Dollie gives for going on her adventure that leads to the climax is that she wanted to see the wild animals in their environment. I don't have the eact quote but i will certainly highlight it when we get to it. The fact that she can't see Romero's inherent animalism is a statement in itself. She doesn't really want to see the wild animals in their reality; she wants to see a romanitcized version of the wild animals.

This is true but don't you think that she saw the wild animal qualities in Romero; she definitely, perhaps subconsciously, wants to get him alone. Then she does and is terrified actually - still the magnetism is there, drawing her upward into the mountains - she does feel desire but then she turns it off at some point....it is true she wants it to be romanticized - definitely!


Very good thoughts.

Good, we are on the same page with this one.


Yes, Dollie has a romanticized perception. This is true; hey, I think most woman are romantists, don't you? I don't see that Romera would be the type to entertain her whims of romantism....he is not the 'wine and dinner' type. He is more the natural man - no fuss, but so connected to the environment and sensual in his own way. In actuality I do find that quality romantic and sometimes an aloof man can really turn a woman on - don't know if it is the challenge of it or what. There is something internal that is like a spark indeed and a brillance that only some can percieve. I don't know exactly what Dollie wanted from him but I do think she wanted the whole package - she was intrigued by his animalistic allure and yet she also wanted the refinement and the communication. Romero can only provide the one and not all for her. I think this also is key to the outcome. As soon as his 'animal' takes over she is blind to the spark, she is immediately turned off and finds him repulsive. The fact that this early passage describes him as not like other Mexican's indicates to me that she saw him differently or perceived more refinement there than actually was. It is hard to say, Romero may have been a mix also, but his animalistic, sensual instincts take over...much like in other stories - such as "The Fox" and "The Virgin and the Gypsy". But in this tale the man is up against the opposition with the rejection at the end; this makes him totally go animalistic. He may have been softer if she has connected with him - more like Rupert in WIL, but the rejection of his manhood send him off on a path of utter destruction. His manhood and the phallis are insulted.


Yes, that demon is a rather amorphous concept of Lawrence. I'm not sure exactly what to make of it.

I still need to refer to the letters for more direct references from Lawrence on his ideas of the demom. If you recall, in the film about Lawrence - "Coming Through", he speaks directly about this 'demon' several times, his own and others. I will look for the segments on Youtube. I know there are a few now; I requested the poem "Violets" and one person has a lot of Lawrence stuff, so they put up the video for me; very nice of them. I know the one about the school poem is on there, which leads into the group session and someone does refer his 'demon' in that scene, I believe. Then there is the one where he mentions the demon, when talking to his best friends, the Hopkins, about Freida. I will find those and send them to you or post here - they shed light on the idea, I believe. He also spoke of Sarah Bernhardt with 'all her demons pouring forth'....forget the rest of the line, but I know where to find the video of that, also....and it will explain it better to you. Lawrence saw 'demons' not as devils, I think, but as the darker side of man and necessary for the whole furfillment of self. It was his philosophy....it is hard to explain, unless you have more knowledge of Lawrence, which you do indeed and so do I. I guess for Dark Muse, she could relate this to Poe and the 'dark side' he exhibits in so much of his work, which makes the 'light' even brighter and more illuminating, when one does perceive it; although Lawrence is more 'even' than Poe in my mind, more 'balanced' in the idea or concept of man possessing two distinct sides of the coin - sort of like the 'ying-yang' concept. Do you know what I mean? 'demon' is not the devil per ce, but more like God possessing both the light and the darkness - thus man being fashioned after God's image also possessiong both - light and the darkness of his true nature.

[Dark Muse]

Lawrence saw 'demons' not as devils but as the darker side of man and necessary for the whole furfillment of self. It was his philosophy....it is hard to explain unless you have more knowledge of Lawrence, which you do indeed and so do I. I guess for Dark Muse, she could relate this to Poe and the dark side he exhibits in his so much of his work, which makes the 'light' brighter and more illuminating; although Lawrence is more 'even' than Poe in my mind, more 'balanced' in the idea or concept of man possessing two distinct sides of the coin - sort of like the ying and yang concept. Do you know what I mean? 'demon' is not the devil but more like God possessing both the light and the darkness - thus man being fashioned after God's image also possesses both - light and dark.

That sort of falls in line with my own personal philosophy, as well the idea of the balance and the equal importance of darkness to light is a part of my beliefs and that sort of relates to my own personal relationship with the "dark." I believe everyone does have a dark half, and that it should not necessarily be completely shunned but should be embraced as a part of what makes a person who they are. It does not mean a person must be evil or bad, but they should accept both sides of themselves instead of trying to oppress it.

[Janine]

That sort of falls in line with my own personal philosophy, as well the idea of the balance and the equal importance of darkness to light is a part of my beliefs and that sort of relates to my own personal relationship with the "dark." I believe everyone does have a dark half, and that it should not necessarily be completely shunned but should be embraced as a part of what makes a person who they are. It does not mean a person must be evil or bad, but they should accept both sides of themselves instead of trying to oppress it.

Exactly! and that is just what Lawrence believed; at least this is how I read him. I knew somehow instinctively, you would get the concept and relate to it. Probably why you have become such an ardent Lawrence commentor here. When you read "Women in Love" and you will see more of this concept spelled out. "The Fox" is not long; and there too, you can see this idea. I just read "The Virgin and the Gypsy", also a short book, and that will show you the way Lawrence thought, especially when the concept is realised....the transfiguration is realised.

Ok, I am editing this: wished to add the links to the film. I use the films as added tools to study Lawrence; this one was taken from good research resources and the film concentrates on the poetry from that time in L's young life; these concepts that follow him all throughout his life and are developed later, are evident here.

This one is a good one, about half way through he tells about the Sarah Bernhardt experience - this is true. I read this account in two biographies. In fact, the real event actually did terrify Lawrence so profoundly that he had to leave the theater. This is in his early life, but obviously the 'demon' concept is one he explores later, in great depth.

A very young Kenneth Branagh plays young Bert (Lawrence) in "Coming Through",
screenplay by Alan Platter.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJbJLncQxL8&feature=PlayList&p=0521B627C6FD666B&index=2

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YpINmQkNHzs&feature=PlayList&p=0521B627C6FD666B&index=1

These also will give you some bit of insight into the notion of his 'demon' - about
half through this second video, he consults his friends about Frieda and the wife mentions his 'demon' ...his reply is interesting, so is the discussion between the three.

I love the part about the Michelangleo sculptures, 'naked and vulnerable' and 'beautiful.' I read this part in a letter of Lawrence's, as well, so it is true; at least, that he thought this and stated it.

Be sure and see all of the video - the poem, he recites in the rain, is so beautiful - one of my favorites. I love the part of the scene, when he is consulting with his married friends. It feels so authentic to Lawrence, with his many conflicts. Branagh did a good job portraying young Bert, he must have lost weight for the role, he is quite thin here.

Enjoy these. I requested, of the person posting these, the other one I was thinking of, which follows a poem he wrote about 'teaching and schools'. At least I think 'demon' is mentioned there, too.

[Virgil]

Cool, :Dare you on now? I hope you be careful though. It might be nothing but you can't be sure. You really should wait till nightime to post. More happens at night here anyway...lots of night-owls like me!;):lol:

Well, I haven't been able to get on since. :( I don't understand why sometimes yes and sometimes no.


No, not really, remember when I asked you, if we did this 'longish' story, if you could post segments that would not overwhelm me? I think when I saw that last chunk of text, I moaned and then quickly departed and put off answering it - I get overwhelmed when you throw too much at me at once. My feeble brain just works that way. I am more detailed minded and have to work by stages - it has always been that way with me - maybe I have a little bit of attention deficit; I can work in a perimeter only if I keep it organised - jumping around from beginning to end and then to middle is just not possible for me. I have to build my concept of the story starting from the first parts of text. Can you understand this? That is why I limited myself last night and before to only a few of the text paragraphs - then I could zero in and really see what was going on.
I guess. Ok.


That way I can post and appear brilliant....just kidding with you...I'm a little more humble than that. Literature does not actually come easy to me, Virgil, remember I am an artist first in my soul and I think actually this is why I am drawn to authors like Hardy and Lawrence - because they both were artistic and they both use words like paint - very visual authors indeed. I have to look at their canvas and see the individual words and they are like brush strokes and they add up eventually to the entire painting - the story and the concept. See what I am driving at?
Yes. But you do a good job of understanding literature.


This is true but don't you think that she saw the wild animal qualities in Romero; she definitely, perhaps subconsciously, wants to get him alone. Then she does and is terrified actually - still the magnetism is there, drawing her upward into the mountains - she does feel desire but then she turns it off at some point....it is true she wants it to be romanticized - definitely!
True, she does. But perhaps she only wants to see the wild animal in Romero. I don't think she fully comprehends what it means to experience the wild.


This is true; hey, I think most woman are romantists, don't you? I don't see that Romera would be the type to entertain her whims of romantism....he is not the 'wine and dinner' type.
:lol: No I can't see him in a candle lit French restaurant with a glass of Bordeaux. :D


He is more the natural man - no fuss, but so connected to the environment and sensual in his own way. In actuality I do find that quality romantic and sometimes an aloof man can really turn a woman on - don't know if it is the challenge of it or what. There is something internal that is like a spark indeed and a brillance that only some can percieve. I don't know exactly what Dollie wanted from him but I do think she wanted the whole package - she was intrigued by his animalistic allure and yet she also wanted the refinement and the communication.
Perhaps she did. And under regular circumstances, perhaps Romero could have given the refinement and communication. Perhaps the wilderness changes him, or opens upa part of him that was kept closed. We'll have to see later.


Romero can only provide the one and not all for her. I think this also is key to the outcome. As soon as his 'animal' takes over she is blind to the spark, she is immediately turned off and finds him repulsive. The fact that this early passage describes him as not like other Mexican's indicates to me that she saw him differently or perceived more refinement there than actually was. It is hard to say, Romero may have been a mix also, but his animalistic, sensual instincts take over...much like in other stories - such as "The Fox" and "The Virgin and the Gypsy". But in this tale the man is up against the opposition with the rejection at the end; this makes him totally go animalistic. He may have been softer if she has connected with him - more like Rupert in WIL, but the rejection of his manhood send him off on a path of utter destruction. His manhood and the phallis are insulted.
Yes I agree, but also see my comment on the paragraph above.

[Virgil]

That sort of falls in line with my own personal philosophy, as well the idea of the balance and the equal importance of darkness to light is a part of my beliefs and that sort of relates to my own personal relationship with the "dark." I believe everyone does have a dark half, and that it should not necessarily be completely shunned but should be embraced as a part of what makes a person who they are. It does not mean a person must be evil or bad, but they should accept both sides of themselves instead of trying to oppress it.

Lawrence would agree with that Muse. That is very Lawrentian.

[Dark Muse]

Perhaps Lawrence just had a bit of an inner Pagan hahahaha :D

[Virgil]

Perhaps Lawrence just had a bit of an inner Pagan hahahaha :D

Oh yes he did. The older he got the more pagan he became. I will have to direct you to his pagan work. I think that demon, whatever he meant by it, was an attempt to associate with a pagan element.

[Janine]

Have either of you watched the Youtube clips I provided? It will only take a few minutes to view. They are both short excerpts. I think it gives some insight into the 'demon', which to Lawrence was not a bad thing at all, more a freeing from society's rules and embrassing the deeper/darker element in the makeup of the individual.

Anyway, could one of you actually define 'pagan'? I am vague on it's actual meaning.

[Dark Muse]

Well there are various different definitions used for its meaning, depending upon who you talk to. It is something of an "umbrella" term, as it can encompass many things. But in a nutshell as for my own use of the word. It is a Pre-Christian, Earth Based religion. Which basically means, it believes in living in harmony with nature, rather then trying to conquer nature.

And as far as its use in this thread. One of of the important asepcst of Pagan beleif is that in the balance, as you called it earlier Yin and Yang. The fact that dark and light are equally important, and it is not a question of good and evil, but they are both just two nesscary halves that make a whole.

[Janine]

see wiki for definition on the term....

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pagan

[Virgil]

Yes I saw the videos Janine. But I have seen the movie, so it was no big surprise. I would catagorize late DH Lawrence as being Neo-Pagan of no organized religion, where he believes nature is inbued with spirit and that there are inherent powers that exist in nature, those powers (and perhpas I'm going on a bit of a limb here) control by some sort of diety. I do think that is roughly what Lawrence came to believe.

[Janine]

Yes I saw the videos Janine. But I have seen the movie, so it was no big surprise. I would catagorize late DH Lawrence as being Neo-Pagan of no organized religion, where he believes nature is inbued with spirit and that there are inherent powers that exist in nature, those powers (and perhpas I'm going on a bit of a limb here) control by some sort of diety. I do think that is roughly what Lawrence came to believe.

:lol:...something like that. Actually, if either of us could truly state what the heck he came to finally believe in, it would probably be miraculous. Lawrence wavered a lot, it depended on what part of the world he was residing in.

Glad you saw the videos again - l like the part about Sarah Bernhardt, but I also like when he talks with the Hopkins. I like that film but wish the director had just stuck to the 'past' story - those other two characters were pretty dull. Sometimes I just watch the movie again to hear the poetry and see the past scenes and I skip those modern day scenes entirely.

OK - I am currently working on the next paragraphs offline and will post them soon.

[Virgil]

Ok, let's do the next section.



The time passed, and she let it pass. The end of September came, with aspens going yellow on the mountain heights, and oak-scrub going red. But as yet the cottonwoods in the valley and canyons had not changed.

"When will you go away?" Romero asked her, looking at her fixedly, with a blank black eye.

"By the end of October," she said. "I have promised to be in Santa Barbara at the beginning of November."

He was hiding the spark in his eye from her. But she saw the peculiar sullen thickening of his heavy mouth.

She had complained to him many times that one never saw any wild animals, except chipmunks and squirrels, and perhaps a skunk and a porcupine. Never a deer, or a bear, or a mountain lion.

"Are there no bigger animals in these mountains?" she asked, dissatisfied.

"Yes," he said. "There are deer--I see their tracks. And I saw the tracks of a bear."

"But why can one never see the animals themselves?" She looked dissatisfied and wistful like a child.

"Why, it's pretty hard for you to see them. They won't let you come close. You have to keep still, in a place where they come. Or else you have to follow their tracks a long way."

"I can't bear to go away till I've seen them: a bear, or a deer--"

The smile came suddenly on his face, indulgent.

"Well, what do you want? Do you want to go up into the mountains to some place, to wait till they come?"

"Yes," she said, looking up at him with a sudden naïve impulse of recklessness.

And immediately his face became sombre again, responsible.

"Well," he said, with slight irony, a touch of mockery of her. "You will have to find a house. It's very cold at night now. You would have to stay all night in a house."

"And there are no houses up there?" she said.

"Yes," he replied. "There is a little shack that belongs to me, that a miner built a long time ago, looking for gold. You can go there and stay one night, and maybe you see something. Maybe! I don't know. Maybe nothing come."

"How much chance is there?"

"Well, I don't know. Last time when I was there I see three deer come down to drink at the water, and I shot two raccoons. But maybe this time we don't see anything."

"Is there water there?" she asked.

"Yes, there is a little round pond, you know, below the spruce trees. And the water from the snow runs into it."

"Is it far away?" she asked.

"Yes, pretty far. You see that ridge there"--and turning to the mountains he lifted his arm in the gesture which is somehow so moving, out in the West, pointing to the distance--"that ridge where there are no trees, only rock"--his black eyes were focussed on the distance, his face impassive, but as if in pain--"you go round that ridge, and along, then you come down through the spruce trees to where that cabin is. My father bought that placer claim from a miner who was broke, but nobody ever found any gold or anything, and nobody ever goes there. Too lonesome!"

The Princess watched the massive, heavy-sitting, beautiful bulk of the Rocky Mountains. It was early in October, and the aspens were already losing their gold leaves; high up, the spruce and pine seemed to be growing darker; the great flat patches of oak scrub on the heights were red like gore.

"Can I go over there?" she asked, turning to him and meeting the spark in his eye.

His face was heavy with responsibility.

"Yes," he said, "you can go. But there'll be snow over the ridge, and it's awful cold, and awful lonesome."

"I should like to go," she said, persistent.

"All right," he said. "You can go if you want to."

She doubted, though, if the Wilkiesons would let her go; at least alone with Romero and Miss Cummins.

Yet an obstinacy characteristic of her nature, an obstinacy tinged perhaps with madness, had taken hold of her. She wanted to look over the mountains into their secret heart. She wanted to descend to the cabin below the spruce trees, near the tarn of bright green water. She wanted to see the wild animals move about in their wild unconsciousness.

"Let us say to the Wilkiesons that we want to make the trip round the Frijoles canyon," she said.

The trip round the Frijoles canyon was a usual thing. It would not be strenuous, nor cold, nor lonely: they could sleep in the log house that was called an hotel.

Romero looked at her quickly.

"If you want to say that," he replied, "you can tell Mrs. Wilkieson. Only I know she'll be mad with me if I take you up in the mountains to that place. And I've got to go there first with a pack-horse, to take lots of blankets and some bread. Maybe Miss Cummins can't stand it. Maybe not. It's a hard trip."

He was speaking, and thinking, in the heavy, disconnected Mexican fashion.

"Never mind!" The Princess was suddenly very decisive and stiff with authority. "I want to do it. I will arrange with Mrs. Wilkieson. And we'll go on Saturday."

He shook his head slowly.

"I've got to go up on Sunday with a pack-horse and blankets," he said. "Can't do it before."

"Very well!" she said, rather piqued. "Then we'll start on Monday."

She hated being thwarted even the tiniest bit.

This part of the stroy transitions from the establishing of the characters and the situaton to moving the narrative toward the central part of the story, the horseback ride up the mountain and the events that occur when they get there. I guess two things are interesting in this section. One, the utter childishness of Dollie's motive, "she wants to see the wild animals." Here is the exchange and notice how Romero humors her as if she's a child.


She had complained to him many times that one never saw any wild animals, except chipmunks and squirrels, and perhaps a skunk and a porcupine. Never a deer, or a bear, or a mountain lion.

"Are there no bigger animals in these mountains?" she asked, dissatisfied.

"Yes," he said. "There are deer--I see their tracks. And I saw the tracks of a bear."

"But why can one never see the animals themselves?" She looked dissatisfied and wistful like a child.

"Why, it's pretty hard for you to see them. They won't let you come close. You have to keep still, in a place where they come. Or else you have to follow their tracks a long way."

"I can't bear to go away till I've seen them: a bear, or a deer--"

The smile came suddenly on his face, indulgent.

The second point that catches my eye is the characterization of Romero's thinking process:

Romero looked at her quickly.

"If you want to say that," he replied, "you can tell Mrs. Wilkieson. Only I know she'll be mad with me if I take you up in the mountains to that place. And I've got to go there first with a pack-horse, to take lots of blankets and some bread. Maybe Miss Cummins can't stand it. Maybe not. It's a hard trip."

He was speaking, and thinking, in the heavy, disconnected Mexican fashion.
What's so disconnected about what he's saying? It sounds perfectly logical to me. The one thing that bothers me about this story is that I don't find Romero credibly delineated. I don't understand the "heaviness" of the Mexican character or all the other characterizations Lawrence makes about the Mexican character, with the "spark" in his eye and history that's buried inside them. I frankly find Romero's actions confusing and superficial. I don't really think Lawrence did a good job with Romero. I think he had a similar failing in the novel The Plumed Serpent, and that's partly why that novel failed.

[Janine]

Ok, let's do the next section.

What??? I am just now working offline on the last section; we did not really finish that up.....ahhhhhhhhh! :rage:

Now you post so much more - I told you I get so overwhelmed!:(*sob* sob*

[Virgil]

What??? I am just now working offline on the last section; we did not really finish that up.....ahhhhhhhhh! :rage:

Now you post so much more - I told you I get so overwhelmed!:(*sob* sob*
Go ahead and do the previous secton. Don't worry. When you're ready for the new one then go to it.

[Janine]

Ok, before I tackle the next section I want to post this, it took me awhile to write:


He had perched her on a rock over a quiet pool, beyond the cotton-wood trees. It was early September, and the canyon already cool, but the leaves of the cottonwoods were still green. The Princess stood on her rock, a small but perfectly-formed figure, wearing a soft, close grey sweater and neatly-cut grey riding-breeches, with tall black boots, her fluffy brown hair straggling from under a little grey felt hat.
A woman? Not quite. A changeling of some sort, perched in outline there on the rock, in the bristling wild canyon. She knew perfectly well how to handle a line. Her father had made a fisherman of her.

The word ‘perched’ is used several times in this paragraph and is almost an indication of something birdlike, or hawk-like.
I find it interesting how L describes her here as “a small but perfectly-formed figure”…then follows her ‘smart’ clothing appearance. Kind of matches his taper look.
The thing that strike me the most is the statements “A woman? Not quite. A changeling of some sort“…that some sort is odd…then again the ‘perched’ word sounds fairy-like - being of nature and ancient forests.


Romero, in a black shirt and with loose black trousers pushed into wide black riding-boots, was fishing a little farther down. He had put his hat on a rock behind him; his dark head was bent a little forward, watching the water. He had caught three trout. From time to time he glanced up-stream at the Princess, perched there so daintily. He saw she had caught nothing.

He seems contrasted here with the dainty Princess. He is catching fish and she is catching none and he observes it.


Soon he quietly drew in his line and came up to her. His keen eye watched her line, watched her position. Then, quietly, he suggested certain changes to her, putting his sensitive brown hand before her. And he withdrew a little, and stood in silence, leaning against a tree, watching her. He was helping her across the distance. She knew it, and thrilled. And in a moment she had a bite. In two minutes she landed a good trout. She looked round at him quickly, her eyes sparkling, the colour heightened in her cheeks. And as she met his eyes a smile of greeting went over his dark face, very sudden, with an odd sweetness.

So here is almost like a 'knight in shining armour' coming to the Princess’ rescue. He has a 'keen eye' like an animal or bird, hawk? This could be right out of King Arthur. He is described quiet, withdrawn and silent….three things that often will attract a woman’s attention….almost like a challenge. The statement that really stands out to me here, is “helping her across the distance” - how telling is that? Then it goes on to say “She knew it, and thrilled.” The last statement, coming from an 'aloof' type man is a real turn-on. Also, as in many L works, the mention of 'hand/s' - 'sensitive brown hand'.


She knew he was helping her. And she felt in his presence a subtle, insidious male kindliness she had never known before waiting upon her. Her cheek flushed, and her blue eyes darkened.

Again, she is feeling something she never felt before. I think the important thing here is that fact, that she is actually ‘feeling’ and later on she turns that off to him. At first, she views him as kindly and in reality, he does not stay ‘kind’ to her, by the end of the story; so it is really an fantasy for her.


After this, she always looked for him, and for that curious dark beam of a man's kindliness which he could give her, as it were, from his chest, from his heart. It was something she had never known before.

Again, it is stated that it was something 'she never knew before'. The ‘curious dark beam of a man’s kindliness” - now that is an interesting statement. In "The Plumed Serpent" one of the main characters, is seen as a beam or column of light or fire, but this is just opposite and goes with the idea of the dark side of a person and the idea perhaps of ‘demon’, yet kindly, and all the other positive attributes the text assigns to Romero.


A vague, unspoken intimacy grew up between them. She liked his voice, his appearance, his presence. His natural language was Spanish; he spoke English like a foreign language, rather slow, with a slight hesitation, but with a sad, plangent sonority lingering over from his Spanish. There was a certain subtle correctness in his appearance; he was always perfectly shaved; his hair was thick and rather long on top, but always carefully groomed behind. And his fine black cashmere shirt, his wide leather belt, his well-cut, wide black trousers going into the embroidered cowboy boots had a certain inextinguishable elegance. He wore no silver rings or buckles. Only his boots were embroidered and decorated at the top with an inlay of white suède. He seemed elegant, slender, yet he was very strong.

The first statement seems to say it all, with the word 'vague'. I tend to think, the Princess thinks in a vague sort of way. ‘unspoken intimacy' only lead further to the notion of a sort of imaginary aura or fantasy about this man. Everything about him which is subtle, seems to attract her to him. He is actually quite well groomed; which is different than the gypsy or peasant images, Lawrence uses in some of his books. He is actually seen more groomed and well dressed as an aristocrat might be - someone going off to an English hunt perhaps. He seems to exude a sort of charm, cowboy charm for her. The last statement says it all - elegant, slender, yet very strong. The ‘will’ is seen here mixed into the whole 'elegant, slender, quiet, sad,' mix of his persona. Since I have this thing for men with interesting accents this part especially attracted my attention 'a sad, plangent sonority lingering over from his Spanish'...I knew someone once, who had this 'sad, plangent sonority' to their voice or speech, it came to mind and I could relate...for some reason, this greatly intrigued me, and strongly attracted me; it is almost like this very subtle mystery and one feels the need to figure that individual out.

I will work on more of the last section tomorrow and then push onto the new parts. I really wish to finish up these first before going on. I know this is taking a long time but it is a long story and complex this time.

Ok, I finished it tonight - see, Virgil, you know how to light a fire under me! Sorry I was dragging my feet. If this flips to the next page you will have to requote your own post with the new text...sorry 'bout that....I hope you read what I wrote first...took me over an hour to write all this....


And at the same time, curiously, he gave her the feeling that death was not far from him. Perhaps he too was half in love with death. However that may be, the sense she had that death was not far from him made him 'possible' to her.

The first statement is perfect, because up until now we might think Romero totally safe and kindly and now the danger starts to creep in; and The Princess senses ‘death’ not far from him. Then the word ‘impossible’ makes it clear, that even at this early stage, she has made up her mind - he’s 'impossible' for her.


Small as she was, she was quite a good horsewoman. They gave her at the ranch a sorrel mare, very lovely in colour, and well-made, with a powerful broad neck and the hollow back that betokens a swift runner. Tansy, she was called. Her only fault was the usual mare's failing, she was inclined to be hysterical.

Haha - funny that the mare is inclined to be hysterical because someone gets hysterical by the end of the story. I like the name Tansy for the horse. We should suggest that one to *Classic *Charm*.


So that every day the Princess set off with Miss Cummins and Romero, on horseback, riding into the mountains. Once they went camping for several days, with two more friends in the party.

So she has been camping with Romero before this but in a larger party and not alone. In a way this would build her trust in him. I wondered before why she would automatically trust him to take her all alone, but now reading this I see it clearer.


"I think I like it better," the Princess said to Romero, "when we three go alone."

And he gave her one of his quick, transfiguring smiles.

So she is kind of closing the gap here and making the outings a little more intimate gradually. In response he gives her a quick, ‘transfiguring’ smile….hummm. The word transfiguring already shows up in the text. I think that is a clever way to introduce the idea subtly.


It was curious no white man had ever showed her this capacity for subtle gentleness, thispower to help her in silence across a distance, if she were fishing without success, or tired of her horse, or if Tansy suddenly got scared. It was as if Romero could send her from his heart a dark beam of succour and sustaining. She had never known this before, and it was very thrilling.

Once again he is like the savior or like the knight for her. She sees his gentleness as his power. Again L repeats the phrase ‘to help her in silence across a distance‘. He is like a ‘helpmate’ or potential one, but of course that never comes to completion. I like the part - “the dark beam of succour and sustaining.” - those are interesting words in combination and again the ‘dark beam’ is mentioned, along with them.


Then the smile that suddenly creased his dark face, showing the strong white teeth. It creased his face almost into a savage grotesque. And at the same time there was in it something so warm, such a dark flame of kindliness for her, she was elated into her true Princess self.

Very curious that a smile will crease his dark face and look like a savage groteque - Dark Muse, you must have liked this one.

Again, the ‘dark flame’ and this time of ‘kindliness‘. That is really interesting. Maybe his demon is a dark flame of kindliness. Most significant I think is this last statement - “she was elated into her true Princess self“….what exactly does Lawrence mean by that statement, do you think? Is she undergoing a sort of transfiguration in a fantasy sense or is he indulging her Princess persona. I don’t know quite what to make of that last statement.


Then that vivid, latent spark in his eye, which she had seen, and which she knew he was aware she had seen. It made an inter-recognition between them, silent and delicate. Here he was delicate as a woman in this subtle inter-recognition.

‘inter-recognition’ is such an interesting word; definitely a Lawrence word - unique. So that here she even perceives him as “delicate as a woman” - not much different than the way in which Lawrence describes her in the other prior passages. So does she feel this connection through his feminine side? It is rather funny, but even back then Lawrence is tapping into the feminine side of a man. He has been described as elegant, quiet, slender…many terms that could apply also to a woman. I find that part truly interesting.


And yet his presence only put to flight in her the idée fixe of 'marriage'. For some reason, in her strange little brain, the idea of marrying him could not enter. Not for any definite reason. He was in himself a gentleman, and she had plenty of money for two. There was no actual obstacle. Nor was she conventional.

idée fixe of 'marriage' - what does that mean exactly? Her fixed notion or idea of marriage? So even though she knows there is no obstacle to marrying him she can’t get that into her ‘strange little brain’…and L ends with “Nor was she conventional.”…so what is her problem? :lol: Romero sounds rather handsome and alluring to me.:lol:


No, now she came down to it, it was as if their two 'dæmons' could marry, were perhaps married. Only their two selves, Miss Urquhart and Señor Domingo Romero, were for some reason incompatible. There was a peculiar subtle intimacy of inter-recognition between them. But she did not see in the least how it would lead to marriage. Almost she could more easily marry one of the nice boys from Harvard or Yale.

Ok, now I see - the part about the two ‘daemons’ - they could marry but not the other part of her - the self with the will. - that would render them incompatible. She can’t give that up for him. She holds fast to her will and her self. Again Lawrence drive this point home about the ‘inter-recognition’ between them. However the Princess can’t see marriage in the picture.

Ok, I am addressing the new text here - I guess I felt ambitious tonight. I will also comment on your statements about this part of the text tomorrow, Virgil. I didn't mean to skip over them and now I am too tired to go back and do that for now - it is late. I also posted a few others on the past text before this post - lots to read here. When did you sneak in there and say to post from the previous text? I didn't see that until I just posted this. This is an edit. This took me hours to write, but I was in the mood to play 'catch up' tonight. So here is my take on this part:


The time passed, and she let it pass. The end of September came, with aspens going yellow on the mountain heights, and oak-scrub going red. But as yet the cottonwoods in the valley and canyons had not changed.

Love the fact that, most of the story takes place in the fall and the descriptions going up the mountainside, I thought, were just stunning…so beautiful…some of Lawrence‘s best descriptive writing.


"When will you go away?" Romero asked her, looking at her fixedly, with a blank black eye.

"By the end of October," she said. "I have promised to be in Santa Barbara at the beginning of November."

This inevitable separation for the two now really spurs them on..actually she is doing the pursuing whether she know it consciously or subconsciously…she is luring him, like one does when fishing….


He was hiding the spark in his eye from her. But she saw the peculiar sullen thickening of his heavy mouth.

So the spark now he hides from her and that will only just make him more mysterious and desirable in my opinion. Even the ‘peculiar sullen thickening of his heavy mouth’ seems to intrigue her.


She had complained to him many times that one never saw any wild animals, except chipmunks and squirrels, and perhaps a skunk and a porcupine. Never a deer, or a bear, or a mountain lion.

You are right Virgil about her ‘childishness’ and ‘motives’ and how “Romero humors her as if she's a child.”….so I won’t comment on this further.


"Are there no bigger animals in these mountains?" she asked, dissatisfied.

"Yes," he said. "There are deer--I see their tracks. And I saw the tracks of a bear."

"But why can one never see the animals themselves?" She looked dissatisfied and wistful like a child.

"Why, it's pretty hard for you to see them. They won't let you come close. You have to keep still, in a place where they come. Or else you have to follow their tracks a long way."

“ The won’t let you come close” - that is interesting since she won’t let him come close later on.


"I can't bear to go away till I've seen them: a bear, or a deer--"

The smile came suddenly on his face, indulgent.

"Well, what do you want? Do you want to go up into the mountains to some place, to wait till they come?"

"Yes," she said, looking up at him with a sudden naïve impulse of recklessness.

And immediately his face became sombre again, responsible.

Wow, do you notice this subtle power play going on between them? It is almost like one could interpret it like this. Lots of hidden meanings here and subtext.

Ok - like “I can’t bear to go away”… (till I’ve been with alone with you….does she really want to see a bear or a deer? Isn’t she either consciously or subconsciously ‘fantasying’ here a bit?)…

Then he smiles - ‘indulgent‘….(he is humoring her and giving into her whim, he is thinking he would like to be alone with her, as well)

Well, what do you want? (now that is a loaded question)… wait till they come….(wait till he comes to her? Hummm…..)

She says with no hesitation “Yes” (now how would most guys take that?…again very suggestive…) …goes onto say…. “With sudden naïve impulse of recklessness”…so the fact, that Lawrence adds the word ‘naïve‘, does that mean Lawrence paints a picture of her as truly naïve or just pretending to be?


And immediately his face became sombre again, responsible.

"Well," he said, with slight irony, a touch of mockery of her. "You will have to find a house. It's very cold at night now. You would have to stay all night in a house."

"And there are no houses up there?" she said.

He is pre-warning her of the cold and the need of a house or shelter. But even this does not deter her.


"Yes," he replied. "There is a little shack that belongs to me, that a miner built a long time ago, looking for gold. You can go there and stay one night, and maybe you see something. Maybe! I don't know. Maybe nothing come."

He seems to be giving it all to her straight and yet she still persist in her childish motives, supposedly to see a wild animal. He is letting her know that is still unlikely she will actually see one.


"How much chance is there?"

"Well, I don't know. Last time when I was there I see three deer come down to drink at the water, and I shot two raccoons. But maybe this time we don't see anything."

"Is there water there?" she asked.

"Yes, there is a little round pond, you know, below the spruce trees. And the water from the snow runs into it."

"Is it far away?" she asked.

"Yes, pretty far. You see that ridge there"--and turning to the mountains he lifted his arm in the gesture which is somehow so moving, out in the West, pointing to the distance--"that ridge where there are no trees, only rock"--his black eyes were focussed on the distance, his face impassive, but as if in pain--"you go round that ridge, and along, then you come down through the spruce trees to where that cabin is. My father bought that placer claim from a miner who was broke, but nobody ever found any gold or anything, and nobody ever goes there. Too lonesome!"

Again, he is giving her all the facts and she doesn’t heed a word he is saying, about how cold it could be or anything that is truly realistic about going - it is far, it is probably a little dangerous and it is cold there. So before she goes with him she does know the score. The phrase “somehow so moving, out in the West” seems to indicate to me the romantic quality that she feels she sees in Romero. Instead of being in England and a knight he is the romantised version set in the West…the pioneer, the cowboy, etc. just makes him more fascinating. I find this curious also “his black eyes were focussed on the distance, his face impassive, but as if in pain--” - so ‘in pain’…does he then sense his death in the mountains if he takes her there? It is certainly foreshadowing.


The Princess watched the massive, heavy-sitting, beautiful bulk of the Rocky Mountains. It was early in October, and the aspens were already losing their gold leaves; high up, the spruce and pine seemed to be growing darker; the great flat patches of oak scrub on the heights were red like gore.

“red like gore” - wow, what a way to say that…kind of gothic and dark, gore, blood…what a sense of foreshadowing in that statement. I love this whole description - the massive, heavy-sitting , beautiful bulk of the Rocky Mountains….a lot of power in those words and that phrase - also sort of menacing. The aspens were already losing their gold leaves - even that seems forboding and winter like - one thinks of bare branches and death. A brilliant description….so telling…


"Can I go over there?" she asked, turning to him and meeting the spark in his eye.

His face was heavy with responsibility.

The spark is visible again and she meets it, embraces it; his face in return, was expressed as “heavy with responsibility.” He seems to know or sense his fate.


"Yes," he said, "you can go. But there'll be snow over the ridge, and it's awful cold, and awful lonesome."

Again he is being straight with her and telling he it will be “awful cold and awful lonesome.” He does pre-warn her. How more emphatic can he be?


"I should like to go," she said, persistent.

She seems to me all persistence. She seems also to want to hold the power of making him take her. To me this exchange is very much a power-play…she is totally insistent.


"All right," he said. "You can go if you want to."

She doubted, though, if the Wilkiesons would let her go; at least alone with Romero and Miss Cummins.

So now he doesn’t really think it will happen even though he has finally given into her whims.


Yet an obstinacy characteristic of her nature, an obstinacy tinged perhaps with madness, had taken hold of her. She wanted to look over the mountains into their secret heart. She wanted to descend to the cabin below the spruce trees, near the tarn of bright green water. She wanted to see the wild animals move about in their wild unconsciousness.

So that first statement is the what is central to it and her persistence. “Obstiniacy” pretty much spells it out and Lawrence goes as far as using the word ‘madeness’….which he points out had “taken hold of her.” So her thinking is far from logical or even sane. She is letting her fascination rule her being and not thinking of what consequences there might be in the end or on top of the mountains. It is all romantic to her and she does not look on it realistically at all. Words to describe what she seeks, like the mountain’s “secret heart” make this notion even more clear - all romantic and unreal….”tarn of green water” sounds fairy-like, doesn’t it? Seeing the animals in their “wild unconsciousness”…yet she is in a sort of unconscious state herself ….a sort of dream-state….“A Midsummer Night’s Dream” - fairy-like…


"Let us say to the Wilkiesons that we want to make the trip round the Frijoles canyon," she said.

So she puts him up to a lie with herself.


The trip round the Frijoles canyon was a usual thing. It would not be strenuous, nor cold, nor lonely: they could sleep in the log house that was called an hotel.

She is pretty darn manipulative…


Romero looked at her quickly.

"If you want to say that," he replied, "you can tell Mrs. Wilkieson. Only I know she'll be mad with me if I take you up in the mountains to that place. And I've got to go there first with a pack-horse, to take lots of blankets and some bread. Maybe Miss Cummins can't stand it. Maybe not. It's a hard trip.".

He is even pre-warning he that Miss Cummins might not hold up. He says it is a hard trip. Romero all the time is being quite honest with the Princess. In a way she is baiting him and playing him for all he is worth. I am starting to see Romero quite differently now that I am looking at the individual text and seeing so much more in it. I sort of feel for him now. He is trying to warn her of the danger and she is determined.


He was speaking, and thinking, in the heavy, disconnected Mexican fashion.

"Never mind!" The Princess was suddenly very decisive and stiff with authority. "I want to do it. I will arrange with Mrs. Wilkieson. And we'll go on Saturday."

He shook his head slowly..

She really begins to have the upper hand here, she takes the reigns and makes the final decision - it is now in her hands, not his. He tried to dissuade her, but she is on a mission now and can’t be stopped at this point…she lords the power over him now, and he conceeds. He finally gives into her…much like her father probably did.


"I've got to go up on Sunday with a pack-horse and blankets," he said. "Can't do it before."

"Very well!" she said, rather piqued. "Then we'll start on Monday."

She hated being thwarted even the tiniest bit. .

Power - she really likes this bit of power over Romero. She is one determined woman at this point and doesn’t treat him very amicably - she feels piqued and is sort of irritated towards him. She is really like a spoiled brat used to getting her own way - obviously, her father did so, with her and she learned to be that way and get what she wanted.

[Virgil]

Let me tackle the first of your three posts.


The word ‘perched’ is used several times in this paragraph and is almost an indication of something birdlike, or hawk-like.
I find it interesting how L describes her here as “a small but perfectly-formed figure”…then follows her ‘smart’ clothing appearance. Kind of matches his taper look.
The thing that strike me the most is the statements “A woman? Not quite. A changeling of some sort“…that some sort is odd…then again the ‘perched’ word sounds fairy-like - being of nature and ancient forests.

I noticed that that "perched" metaphor too. I don't know what to make of it. I took as a reference to a bird, but you may be right that it's a continuation of the fairy metaphor.


So here is almost like a 'knight in shining armour' coming to the Princess’ rescue. He has a 'keen eye' like an animal or bird, hawk? This could be right out of King Arthur. He is described quiet, withdrawn and silent….three things that often will attract a woman’s attention….almost like a challenge. The statement that really stands out to me here, is “helping her across the distance” - how telling is that? Then it goes on to say “She knew it, and thrilled.” The last statement, coming from an 'aloof' type man is a real turn-on. Also, as in many L works, the mention of 'hand/s' - 'sensitive brown hand'.
Yes, if not a knoght in shining armor, certainly a man aiding a woman. I read this as the two immersed in the natural world and the natural male and female roles come out. Notice that she's thrilled, her femininity aroused.


Again, she is feeling something she never felt before. I think the important thing here is that fact, that she is actually ‘feeling’ and later on she turns that off to him. At first, she views him as kindly and in reality, he does not stay ‘kind’ to her, by the end of the story; so it is really an fantasy for her.
I think Lawrence is suggesting sexual arousal. And she may never have felt this before, at least so intensely. I do think what is important to Lawrence is that the two have reduced to their gender roles.


Again, it is stated that it was something 'she never knew before'. The ‘curious dark beam of a man’s kindliness” - now that is an interesting statement. In "The Plumed Serpent" one of the main characters, is seen as a beam or column of light or fire, but this is just opposite and goes with the idea of the dark side of a person and the idea perhaps of ‘demon’, yet kindly, and all the other positive attributes the text assigns to Romero.
Yes, "beam" and "column" are metaphors Lawrence seems to frequently use in this era of his writing. I take the allusion to be phallic.


The first statement seems to say it all, with the word 'vague'. I tend to think, the Princess thinks in a vague sort of way. ‘unspoken intimacy' only lead further to the notion of a sort of imaginary aura or fantasy about this man. Everything about him which is subtle, seems to attract her to him. He is actually quite well groomed; which is different than the gypsy or peasant images, Lawrence uses in some of his books. He is actually seen more groomed and well dressed as an aristocrat might be - someone going off to an English hunt perhaps. He seems to exude a sort of charm, cowboy charm for her. The last statement says it all - elegant, slender, yet very strong. The ‘will’ is seen here mixed into the whole 'elegant, slender, quiet, sad,' mix of his persona. Since I have this thing for men with interesting accents this part especially attracted my attention 'a sad, plangent sonority lingering over from his Spanish'...I knew someone once, who had this 'sad, plangent sonority' to their voice or speech, it came to mind and I could relate...for some reason, this greatly intrigued me, and strongly attracted me; it is almost like this very subtle mystery and one feels the need to figure that individual out.
I think the "vague, unspoken intimacy" is there to suggest what is happening beneath the conscious surface. One can only explain the climax (his rape of her and her resistance to his sexual advances) by what is happening subconsciously. There is a sexual communication going on between the two subconsciously, and he wants to follow through physically with the sexual discussion, while she rejects, is frozen, cannot follow through with the sexual implications.

[Janine]

Good comments, Virgil and I will wait for you to address the rest of what I wrote. I agree with everything you said so far. Thanks for reading my posts/my commentary and posting your additions. Interesting story, isn't it?

[Quark]

This must be a good story since the discussion has been going for a month. If it continues for another few days, it'll give me time to post. I'm finishing up my last paper now, and I'd love to get in on this story this weekend if I can.

[Dark Muse]

It is my favorite out of the ones we read so far, it is also a bit longer then many others which perhaps is part of the reason the discussion is still going on.

[Janine]

This must be a good story since the discussion has been going for a month. If it continues for another few days, it'll give me time to post. I'm finishing up my last paper now, and I'd love to get in on this story this weekend if I can.

Quark, this is a very good story; very complex and involved; it is a long one, too, but then you seem to like those long stories.;)...at least in Chekhov thread you do. I am currently waiting for Virgil to address my last two long posts, which took me ages to write; he promised he would comment on them and he got as far as the first; but it all takes time.

I don't know if this is my favorite of Lawrence's stories, Dark Muse, I think many are my favorites - how can one pick? But this one is a bit 'different' than the others; but then again, that is all in the way one views it. I think some of the descriptive writing in this longer tale is quite impression, don't you?

[Dark Muse]

Well I have liked this one better then the previous ones we have read thus far. Not that I did not like the others, but this one just sticks out more to me.

[Virgil]

Ok Janine, your second post.


The first statement is perfect, because up until now we might think Romero totally safe and kindly and now the danger starts to creep in; and The Princess senses ‘death’ not far from him. Then the word ‘impossible’ makes it clear, that even at this early stage, she has made up her mind - he’s 'impossible' for her.

That is a rather strange statement. I don't know if I would agree that he's impossible for her; actually it says "possible." It suggests a attraction toward death.


Haha - funny that the mare is inclined to be hysterical because someone gets hysterical by the end of the story. I like the name Tansy for the horse. We should suggest that one to *Classic *Charm*.
Haha, it's no accident her horse is a mare. That's one of those shots that Lawrence takes at women. You see why the feminists hate him. :D


So she is kind of closing the gap here and making the outings a little more intimate gradually. In response he gives her a quick, ‘transfiguring’ smile….hummm. The word transfiguring already shows up in the text. I think that is a clever way to introduce the idea subtly.
Quite right. I wonder why I never noticed that. What exactly is a transfiguring smile? Yes he would normally be the means for her transfiguration.


Once again he is like the savior or like the knight for her. She sees his gentleness as his power. Again L repeats the phrase ‘to help her in silence across a distance‘. He is like a ‘helpmate’ or potential one, but of course that never comes to completion. I like the part - “the dark beam of succour and sustaining.” - those are interesting words in combination and again the ‘dark beam’ is mentioned, along with them.
You're right about that phrase. Second time it comes up. Good observation. I think it's to suggest the sub conscious talking that is going on between the two. That dark beam is to suggest phallic power, and it's "thrilling" for her.


Again, the ‘dark flame’ and this time of ‘kindliness‘. That is really interesting. Maybe his demon is a dark flame of kindliness. Most significant I think is this last statement - “she was elated into her true Princess self“….what exactly does Lawrence mean by that statement, do you think? Is she undergoing a sort of transfiguration in a fantasy sense or is he indulging her Princess persona. I don’t know quite what to make of that last statement.
Dark flame, dark beam, it's his symbol for phallic power, and with flame he adds the suggestion of life itself, the flame of life, and the rising phoenix that Lawrence so identifies with.


‘inter-recognition’ is such an interesting word; definitely a Lawrence word - unique. So that here she even perceives him as “delicate as a woman” - not much different than the way in which Lawrence describes her in the other prior passages. So does she feel this connection through his feminine side? It is rather funny, but even back then Lawrence is tapping into the feminine side of a man. He has been described as elegant, quiet, slender…many terms that could apply also to a woman. I find that part truly interesting.
That's quite obvious the sub conscious communication that is going on.


idée fixe of 'marriage' - what does that mean exactly? Her fixed notion or idea of marriage? So even though she knows there is no obstacle to marrying him she can’t get that into her ‘strange little brain’…and L ends with “Nor was she conventional.”…so what is her problem? :lol: Romero sounds rather handsome and alluring to me.:lol:
idée fixe is actually a musical term I think started by the French composer Berlioz. It's a recurring motif that is to suggest an obssession or neurosis. Here: http://www.merriam-webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Aug.22.2008. She has this fixed obssesion for marriage. But notice it's in "her strange little brain," which is a way of saying it's like a childish notion of hers.

[Janine]

Ok Janine, your second post.

Thanks, Virgil, I really appreciate you taking the time to address what I wrote. I am learning more about the story paragraph by paragraph - now the whole thing makes more sense to me. Last night I read a chapter in this book I bought about Lawrence called "The Minoan Distance"; apparently Lawrence wrote a poem late in is life, using that word phrase. The book is written from the point of view of Lawrence in relation to the idea of 'place'. I think this story is a very good example of that. One could go up into the mountains mentally (or even physically), as surely Lawrence did in both senses. One could revisit this area of NM which inspired this story and perhaps feel the power of nature and the mountains. The 'place' in this story is a vital to the story - a character in it's own right - 'nature' and people can embrass this place and the natural world and be as one. Romero is intune with the place - with nature; he is one with nature....the Princess longs for that connection, but she cannot get intune with it...in essense she cannot get intune with her own self; her own womanhood; not the true connection to another human being - a man on the level of intimacy. Also, interesting in this book that I am reading, is that the author points out the descrepancies and conflicts, within Lawrence himself and his writing...even the comflicts of male and female - gender conflicts within Lawrence himself. This makes perfect sense to me because here he even describes Romera as tender or delicate and elegant - almost woman-like in aspect. It is not till later that Romero shows a more aggressive manly side and this further frightens the Princess and makes her retreat within herself.


That is a rather strange statement. I don't know if I would agree that he's impossible for her; actually it says "possible." It suggests a attraction toward death.

I will look for the exact line quote but I believe she did say "impossible" at one part of the text. I can't look now, I have to go out today and will not have the time; I will find it tonight. Yes, it does suggest a spiritual death and a rebirth - The Princess cannot embrass this. She is repelled by it. She maintains her power. Romero wants the ultimate power as do many of Lawrence's male characters. But there is a good reason for this and I am seeing it more clearly from this new book I am reading on L. Truly, it was first born from his parental problems - mother/father....Lawrence was a very mixed up man and as I said before he did waver often.


Haha, it's no accident her horse is a mare. That's one of those shots that Lawrence takes at women. You see why the feminists hate him. :D

I would imagine it is totally intensional that it is a mare and female. Females always do figure more prominently in Lawrence's work. In the story I just read about Australia, I believe the protagonist also has a mare - you see in this way the man can master the female; but actually, this is not to say the male is secure in his maleness in all ways - a mastering of the female may actually be a way of Lawrence (who felt deficient in sexual ways or genders), to live throught his stories as lord and master. The feminists don't really see this or understand Lawrence - the whole thing goes way deeper and is much more complex. I guess the more I know and understand about him the more forgiving I am about this whole gender thing.


Quite right. I wonder why I never noticed that. What exactly is a transfiguring smile? Yes he would normally be the means for her transfiguration.

Exactly....at anyrate it does prefigure the events to come.


You're right about that phrase. Second time it comes up. Good observation. I think it's to suggest the sub conscious talking that is going on between the two. That dark beam is to suggest phallic power, and it's "thrilling" for her.

Yes, I totally agree....and the dark beam as well. Those appear in his later writings athough the church spires dominate his early works and one sees where that will lead.;)


Dark flame, dark beam, it's his symbol for phallic power, and with flame he adds the suggestion of life itself, the flame of life, and the rising phoenix that Lawrence so identifies with.

Very good. I like you whole explanation here. Yes, the phoenix does play into this idea.


That's quite obvious the sub conscious communication that is going on.

Yes it is.


idée fixe is actually a musical term I think started by the French composer Berlioz. It's a recurring motif that is to suggest an obssession or neurosis. Here: http://www.merriam-webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Aug.22.2008. She has this fixed obssesion for marriage. But notice it's in "her strange little brain," which is a way of saying it's like a childish notion of hers.

I didn't have time to look that up online, but will if I find the time. I was super busy last night, catching up with emails, etc. However, I get the idea from what you wrote and that makes sense enough for me....in fact that fits perfectly. Thanks for the definition. Now that line makes more sense.

Good point, she has this fixed obsession for marriage and yet it is a childish notion, the way she sees marriage....yep, in "her strange little brain." I like that phrase - sounds like something Lawrence would blurt out, doesn it? haha...


Well I have liked this one better then the previous ones we have read thus far. Not that I did not like the others, but this one just sticks out more to me.

Dark Muse, you said that same thing about a couple other ones, way back; but maybe it is the fact that whatever we come up with is even better than the story before...This is a later story so maybe you would like his later work better. Some people prefer his earlier work, but actually I like both.

[Dark Muse]

I do not recall saying that. I may have said I liked this story better then that story. But before I had not declared any to be particular favorites.

[Virgil]

You're third post. Will I ever catch up? ;)


This inevitable separation for the two now really spurs them on..actually she is doing the pursuing whether she know it consciously or subconsciously…she is luring him, like one does when fishing….

I agree there is a subconscious luring and pursuing going on. I think the separation is just a trun to the narrative to push the events further. I don't think there is any thematic reason for it.


“ The won’t let you come close” - that is interesting since she won’t let him come close later on.
Very interesting. It also plays off the "distance" motif you found. I do think there is something Lawrence is suggesting with the notion of distance, the distance between Romero and Dollie and the distance between the wild animals and Dollie.


Wow, do you notice this subtle power play going on between them? It is almost like one could interpret it like this. Lots of hidden meanings here and subtext.
Yes, and the "naive impulse of recklessness" is what the whole story is based on. With that, the events would never have taken place.


Well, what do you want? (now that is a loaded question)… wait till they come….(wait till he comes to her? Hummm…..)
Yes, that is definitely loaded. I didn't notice that.


She says with no hesitation “Yes” (now how would most guys take that?…again very suggestive…) …goes onto say…. “With sudden naïve impulse of recklessness”…so the fact, that Lawrence adds the word ‘naïve‘, does that mean Lawrence paints a picture of her as truly naïve or just pretending to be?
I think she's truly naive. Don't forget the notion of rape has changed over the years. Men used to blame the woman for rape. I think Lawrence is doing that. She naively doesn't realize what her actions are causing in Romero.


He is pre-warning her of the cold and the need of a house or shelter. But even this does not deter her.
More important I think is that he's facing the reality of nature - its brutal aspect - while she's romanticizing it.


I find this curious also “his black eyes were focussed on the distance, his face impassive, but as if in pain--” - so ‘in pain’…does he then sense his death in the mountains if he takes her there? It is certainly foreshadowing.
I think there is tuly something to the theme of distance that you pointed out. It's here again. I should read the story again looking for all the distance references. But it's too long a story. Some other time.


“red like gore” - wow, what a way to say that…kind of gothic and dark, gore, blood…what a sense of foreshadowing in that statement. I love this whole description - the massive, heavy-sitting , beautiful bulk of the Rocky Mountains….a lot of power in those words and that phrase - also sort of menacing. The aspens were already losing their gold leaves - even that seems forboding and winter like - one thinks of bare branches and death. A brilliant description….so telling…
The massive heavy rock becomes significant when she's faced with the potentially transfiguring moment. We'll get to that.


So that first statement is the what is central to it and her persistence. “Obstiniacy” pretty much spells it out and Lawrence goes as far as using the word ‘madeness’….which he points out had “taken hold of her.” So her thinking is far from logical or even sane. She is letting her fascination rule her being and not thinking of what consequences there might be in the end or on top of the mountains. It is all romantic to her and she does not look on it realistically at all. Words to describe what she seeks, like the mountain’s “secret heart” make this notion even more clear - all romantic and unreal….”tarn of green water” sounds fairy-like, doesn’t it? Seeing the animals in their “wild unconsciousness”…yet she is in a sort of unconscious state herself ….a sort of dream-state….“A Midsummer Night’s Dream” - fairy-like…
Obstinency is will, and Lawrence does not like will, especially in women. I know this is philosophical, but will for him blocks one from the religious transfiguring moment. Remember his ideal state is a flower, lacking will and just being. Will exerts a consciousness, which is what a flower doesn't do.


He is even pre-warning he that Miss Cummins might not hold up. He says it is a hard trip. Romero all the time is being quite honest with the Princess. In a way she is baiting him and playing him for all he is worth. I am starting to see Romero quite differently now that I am looking at the individual text and seeing so much more in it. I sort of feel for him now. He is trying to warn her of the danger and she is determined.
Not question that Lawrence's sympathies are with Romero.


She really begins to have the upper hand here, she takes the reigns and makes the final decision - it is now in her hands, not his. He tried to dissuade her, but she is on a mission now and can’t be stopped at this point…she lords the power over him now, and he conceeds. He finally gives into her…much like her father probably did.
That is an interesting comparison. I think there are elements of her father in Romero and I think there are elements of her father in herself.


Power - she really likes this bit of power over Romero. She is one determined woman at this point and doesn’t treat him very amicably - she feels piqued and is sort of irritated towards him. She is really like a spoiled brat used to getting her own way - obviously, her father did so, with her and she learned to be that way and get what she wanted.
A willful woman. Oh how Lawrence hates that. :D

[Janine]

Thanks Virgil - good comments and post. I will answer it later on. Have to go start wash and get my dinner....just leftovers - easy.

[Janine]

You're third post. Will I ever catch up? ;)

Hopefully, you are doing so good here; I think this is the last one and then you can post more text.


I agree there is a subconscious luring and pursuing going on. I think the separation is just a trun to the narrative to push the events further. I don't think there is any thematic reason for it.

You mean when Romero takes Miss Cummins back down the mountainside - is that the separation you speak of?


Very interesting. It also plays off the "distance" motif you found. I do think there is something Lawrence is suggesting with the notion of distance, the distance between Romero and Dollie and the distance between the wild animals and Dollie.

Yes, strange I should start reading that book; I have had it for year or so now. It is good so far and approaches L's work from a different perspective. distance is an interesting motif....yes, how true the distance between the individuals and the distance up the mountainside....and the distance between Dollie and the wild animal world she longs to encounter or experienced. Didn't she point out that 'Romero could see he over the distance' or was the word across or to the other side?...something like that....


Yes, and the "naive impulse of recklessness" is what the whole story is based on. With that, the events would never have taken place.

I am still not totally convinced of her naivity. First off, didn't she read novels that explored sex and just look on them sort of benignly? I thought it said she was aware from the novels she read. I will have to refer back and check that part. Surely she knew the potennial a man could have for desire. I don't know if Dollie was totally naive.


Yes, that is definitely loaded. I didn't notice that.

Yes, it is very suggestive.


I think she's truly naive. Don't forget the notion of rape has changed over the years. Men used to blame the woman for rape. I think Lawrence is doing that. She naively doesn't realize what her actions are causing in Romero.

Yes, true.... but was it rape, at first? I didn't see it as that exactly. I saw her going along with him one night, then rejecting him after - following that and the deflation of his male ego then blantant rape did take place. He held all the power over her, at that point but not really - only physically. At that time, she just made herself (emotionally) impervious to his actions and the rapes. Oh, I think she realises what her flirting or her double meanings could lead to. Woman can flirt with their eyes and gestures and it can be subtle. I think she was egging him on from the start of this mountain trip. She was glad Miss Cummins had to go back and leave them alone. If she wasn't driven to be alone with him she also would have retreated at that moment. I don't think she was as naive as you say she was.


More important I think is that he's facing the reality of nature - its brutal aspect - while she's romanticizing it.

True. I believe I agree.


I think there is truly something to the theme of distance that you pointed out. It's here again. I should read the story again looking for all the distance references. But it's too long a story. Some other time.

I should do that also. I read the story already twice but I will take a peek at it and see if 'distance' stands out to me. I will also look up the year he wrote that poem with the words in the line '...Minoan distance'...maybe they coincide someway.


The massive heavy rock becomes significant when she's faced with the potentially transfiguring moment. We'll get to that.

Yes, I would imagine that would be very significant.


Obstinency is will, and Lawrence does not like will, especially in women. I know this is philosophical, but will for him blocks one from the religious transfiguring moment. Remember his ideal state is a flower, lacking will and just being. Will exerts a consciousness, which is what a flower doesn't do.

I agree...you stated that well and accurately, I believe.


No question that Lawrence's sympathies are with Romero.

Yes, I felt it, too.


That is an interesting comparison. I think there are elements of her father in Romero and I think there are elements of her father in herself.

In one of my reference books the author mentions the story and the connection of the father to Romero. I think that is highly significant. Yes, she also has elements of her father, as well as Romero.


A willful woman. Oh how Lawrence hates that. :D

Haha - Lawrence would hate me. I can be a willful woman sometimes...haha:lol:.

[Quark]

I'm a little over half way through the story, now. The beginning was quite interesting, but I'm not sure where they're going with this whole New Mexico--mountain expedition thing. I'll keep reading. Thankfully, I'm not too far behind the discussion. It seems like I've already past the last part of the story posted. Once I finish, I'll join the conversation.

[Quark]

Finished.

Let me start with this point:

I am still not totally convinced of her naivity.

Yeah, naive seems like the wrong word. She appears to be cognizant of her situation and what Romero represents, but she willfully represses that knowledge. If she wasn't aware, she couldn't be so manipulative throghout the expedition. The ending wouldn't make sense, either. We get the sense that she lost something at the end. She's is never quite the same after that. If she never had the sexuality, vitality, or whatever, she wouldn't change after this experience. More likely, she has all this, but pushes it away and projects it onto some strange Mexican guy who she can treat apprehensively as some "other."

[Janine]

Finished.

Let me start with this point:


Yeah, naive seems like the wrong word. She appears to be cognizant of her situation and what Romero represents, but she willfully represses that knowledge. If she wasn't aware, she couldn't be so manipulative throghout the expedition. The ending wouldn't make sense, either. We get the sense that she lost something at the end. She's is never quite the same after that. If she never had the sexuality, vitality, or whatever, she wouldn't change after this experience. More likely, she has all this, but pushes it away and projects it onto some strange Mexican guy who she can treat apprehensively as some "other."

Glad to see you here, Quark. What you wrote her is exactly my own sentiments. I don't think she is truly naive. She acts childish, but that does not always go hand in hand with being naive. I like the other points you brought out.

I am going through a family crisis today, so I won't be on much. But post more comments, and I will try to read them when I can. I am sure Virgil will respond tonight as well, maybe Dark Muse...where did she run off to anyway...probably knee-deep in Poe.

[Virgil]

I hate to disagree with you guys, but I do think she is naive. She has a fixed thought of goinng to the mountains to see the wild animals, but does she realize she will have to spend the night with a man. This is not the year 2008, where even if two people of the opposite sex agree to be platonic, can just go off together. This is prior to the sexual revolution and such a situation implies some sort of sexual possibility, and yet it doesn't even enter into calculation. No she really wants to go to see the wild animals and that in itself is a naivete.

I'll post some more tonight. I could not believe I was able to get into lit net at work today.

[shortstoryfan]

Could someone please let me know when you all begin the next story, or what story is being discussed now. I could wade through all the posts, but I can't swim....

[Virgil]

Could someone please let me know when you all begin the next story, or what story is being discussed now. I could wade through all the posts, but I can't swim....

Absolutely shortstory. We're in the middle of this rather long story. Probably by mid to the end of January. I fyou wish you culd catch up with this one. The electronic version is here: http://gutenberg.net.au/ebooks04/0400311h.html#s12. You probably only need to read a few pages of this thread back on this story.

[Virgil]

Ok, the next section.


He knew that if he started with the pack on Sunday at dawn he would not be back until late at night. But he consented that they should start on Monday morning at seven. The obedient Miss Cummins was told to prepare for the Frijoles trip. On Sunday Romero had his day off. He had not put in an appearance when the Princess retired on Sunday night, but on Monday morning, as she was dressing, she saw him bringing in the three horses from the corral. She was in high spirits.

The night had been cold. There was ice at the edges of the irrigation ditch, and the chipmunks crawled into the sun and lay with wide, dumb, anxious eyes, almost too numb to run.

"We may be away two or three days," said the Princess.

"Very well. We won't begin to be anxious about you before Thursday, then," said Mrs. Wilkieson, who was young and capable: from Chicago. "Anyway," she added, "Romero will see you through. He's so trustworthy."

The sun was already on the desert as they set off towards the mountains, making the greasewood and the sage pale as pale-grey sands, luminous the great level around them. To the right glinted the shadows of the adobe pueblo, flat and almost invisible on the plain, earth of its earth. Behind lay the ranch and the tufts of tall, plumy cottonwoods, whose summits were yellowing under the perfect blue sky.

Autumn breaking into colour in the great spaces of the South-West.

But the three trotted gently along the trail, towards the sun that sparkled yellow just above the dark bulk of the ponderous mountains. Side-slopes were already gleaming yellow, flaming with a second light, under coldish blue of the pale sky. The front slopes were in shadow, with submerged lustre of red oak scrub and dull-gold aspens, blue-black pines and grey-blue rock. While the canyon was full of a deep blueness.

They rode single file, Romero first, on a black horse. Himself in black, made a flickering black spot in the delicate pallor of the great landscape, where even pine trees at a distance take a film of blue paler than their green. Romero rode on in silence past the tufts of furry greasewood. The Princess came next, on her sorrel mare. And Miss Cummins, who was not quite happy on horseback, came last, in the pale dust that the others kicked up. Sometimes her horse sneezed, and she started.

But on they went at a gentle trot. Romero never looked round. He could hear the sound of the hoofs following, and that was all he wanted.

For the rest, he held ahead. And the Princess, with that black, unheeding figure always travelling away from her, felt strangely helpless, withal elated.

They neared the pale, round foot-hills, dotted with the round dark piñon and cedar shrubs. The horses clinked and trotted among the stones. Occasionally a big round greasewood held out fleecy tufts of flowers, pure gold. They wound into blue shadow, then up a steep stony slope, with the world lying pallid away behind and below. Then they dropped into the shadow of the San Cristobal canyon.

The stream was running full and swift. Occasionally the horses snatched at a tuft of grass. The trail narrowed and became rocky; the rocks closed in; it was dark and cool as the horses climbed and climbed upwards, and the tree trunks crowded in the shadowy, silent tightness of the canyon. They were among cottonwood trees that ran straight up and smooth and round to an extraordinary height. Above, the tips were gold, and it was sun. But away below, where the horses struggled up the rocks and wound among the trunks, there was still blue shadow by the sound of waters and an occasional grey festoon of old man's beard, and here and there a pale, dripping crane's-bill flower among the tangle and the débris of the virgin place. And again the chill entered the Princess's heart as she realised what a tangle of decay and despair lay in the virgin forests.

They scrambled downwards, splashed across stream, up rocks and along the trail of the other side. Romero's black horse stopped, looked down quizzically at the fallen trees, then stepped over lightly. The Princess's sorrel followed, carefully. But Miss Cummins's buckskin made a fuss, and had to be got round.

In the same silence, save for the clinking of the horses and the splashing as the trail crossed stream, they worked their way upwards in the tight, tangled shadow of the canyon. Sometimes, crossing stream, the Princess would glance upwards, and then always her heart caught in her breast. For high up, away in heaven, the mountain heights shone yellow, dappled with dark spruce firs, clear almost as speckled daffodils against the pale turquoise blue lying high and serene above the dark-blue shadow where the Princess was. And she would snatch at the blood-red leaves of the oak as her horse crossed a more open slope, not knowing what she felt.

They were getting fairly high, occasionally lifted above the canyon itself, in the low groove below the speckled, gold-sparkling heights which towered beyond. Then again they dipped and crossed stream, the horses stepping gingerly across a tangle of fallen, frail aspen stems, then suddenly floundering in a mass of rocks. The black emerged ahead, his black tail waving. The Princess let her mare find her own footing; then she too emerged from the clatter. She rode on after the black. Then came a great frantic rattle of the buckskin behind. The Princess was aware of Romero's dark face looking round, with a strange, demon-like watchfulness, before she herself looked round, to see the buckskin scrambling rather lamely beyond the rocks, with one of his pale buff knees already red with blood.

"He almost went down!" called Miss Cummins.

But Romero was already out of the saddle and hastening down the path. He made quiet little noises to the buckskin, and began examining the cut knee.

"Is he hurt?" cried Miss Cummins anxiously, and she climbed hastily down.

"Oh, my goodness!" she cried, as she saw the blood running down the slender buff leg of the horse in a thin trickle. "Isn't that awful?" She spoke in a stricken voice, and her face was white.

Romero was still carefully feeling the knee of the buckskin. Then he made him walk a few paces. And at last he stood up straight and shook his head.

"Not very bad!" he said. "Nothing broken."

Again he bent and worked at the knees. Then he looked up at the Princess.

"He can go on," he said. "It's not bad."

The Princess looked down at the dark face in silence.

"What, go on right up here?" cried Miss Cummins. "How many hours?"

"About five!" said Romero simply.

"Five hours!" cried Miss Cummins. "A horse with a lame knee! And a steep mountain! Why-y!"

"Yes, it's pretty steep up there," said Romero, pushing back his hat and staring fixedly at the bleeding knee. The buckskin stood in a stricken sort of dejection. "But I think he'll make it all right," the man added.

"Oh!" cried Miss Cummins, her eyes bright with sudden passion of unshed tears. "I wouldn't think of it. I wouldn't ride him up there, not for any money."

"Why wouldn't you?" asked Romero.

"It hurts him."

Romero bent down again to the horse's knee.

"Maybe it hurts him a little," he said. "But he can make it all right, and his leg won't get stiff."

"What! Ride him five hours up the steep mountains?" cried Miss Cummins. "I couldn't. I just couldn't do it. I'll lead him a little way and see if he can go. But I couldn't ride him again. I couldn't. Let me walk."

"But Miss Cummins, dear, if Romero says he'll be all right?" said the Princess.

"I know it hurts him. Oh, I just couldn't bear it."

There was no doing anything with Miss Cummins. The thought of a hurt animal always put her into a sort of hysterics.

They walked forward a little, leading the buckskin. He limped rather badly. Miss Cummins sat on a rock.

"Why, it's agony to see him!" she cried. "It's cruel!"

"He won't limp after a bit, if you take no notice of him," said Romero. "Now he plays up, and limps very much, because he wants to make you see."

"I don't think there can be much playing up," said Miss Cummins bitterly. "We can see how it must hurt him."

"It don't hurt much," said Romero.

But now Miss Cummins was silent with antipathy.

It was a deadlock. The party remained motionless on the trail, the Princess in the saddle, Miss Cummins seated on a rock, Romero standing black and remote near the drooping buckskin.

"Well!" said the man suddenly at last. "I guess we go back, then."

And he looked up swiftly at his horse, which was cropping at the mountain herbage and treading on the trailing reins.

"No!" cried the Princess. "Oh no!" Her voice rang with a great wail of disappointment and anger. Then she checked herself.

Miss Cummins rose with energy.

"Let me lead the buckskin home," she said, with cold dignity, "and you two go on."

This was received in silence. The Princess was looking down at her with a sardonic, almost cruel gaze.

"We've only come about two hours," said Miss Cummins. "I don't mind a bit leading him home. But I couldn't ride him. I couldn't have him ridden with that knee."

This again was received in dead silence. Romero remained impassive, almost inert.

"Very well, then," said the Princess. "You lead him home. You'll be quite all right. Nothing can happen to you, possibly. And say to them that we have gone on and shall be home tomorrow--or the day after."

She spoke coldly and distinctly. For she could not bear to be thwarted.

I'm rather tired tonight, so I won't post any comments. I will do so tomorrow night.

[Quark]

I don't exactly know how to interpret this episode. It's dominated by Romero and Miss Cummins, but we don't care about the latter and it does little to develop the former. Perhaps Miss Cummins is supposed to represent an alternative to Dollie. She could get squeemish as Miss Cummins does and turn around. Instead, she impetuously forges on, but the episode reminds us that she was aware of other options--and that she may have been conflicted at this point.

[Janine]

I hate to disagree with you guys, but I do think she is naive. She has a fixed thought of goinng to the mountains to see the wild animals, but does she realize she will have to spend the night with a man. This is not the year 2008, where even if two people of the opposite sex agree to be platonic, can just go off together. This is prior to the sexual revolution and such a situation implies some sort of sexual possibility, and yet it doesn't even enter into calculation. No she really wants to go to see the wild animals and that in itself is a naivete.

I'll post some more tonight. I could not believe I was able to get into lit net at work today.

I still don't buy that she was going on the trip 'just to see wild animals'. I recall a passage about her and a cab driver or cab drivers in Italy or Europe; I thought there it said she knew what they wanted and laughed them off or ignored them...something like that. Well, I need to quote the exact lines, so I will look for it in my book, tonight. I think she was quite aware of sex. I don't know if she ventured into the mountains alone with a man thinking, thinking it would be totally platonic. I just can't buy that....sorry..

I will check out your other long segment of text tomorrow or the next day. Thanks for posting it.

This line stood out to me so far


"He won't limp after a bit, if you take no notice of him," said Romero. "Now he plays up, and limps very much, because he wants to make you see."

Then:
"I don't think there can be much playing up," said Miss Cummins bitterly. "We can see how it must hurt him."


"It don't hurt much," said Romero.

Could this fortell how he will later treat the Princess....if he does not cater to her, he believes she will come around, like the horse? It won't hurt her much, just like the horse. This seems to indicate how Romero thinks, in animalistic terms.

[Virgil]

Let me address this section of the story first. I found this passage absolutely beautiful.


The sun was already on the desert as they set off towards the mountains, making the greasewood and the sage pale as pale-grey sands, luminous the great level around them. To the right glinted the shadows of the adobe pueblo, flat and almost invisible on the plain, earth of its earth. Behind lay the ranch and the tufts of tall, plumy cottonwoods, whose summits were yellowing under the perfect blue sky.

Autumn breaking into colour in the great spaces of the South-West.

But the three trotted gently along the trail, towards the sun that sparkled yellow just above the dark bulk of the ponderous mountains. Side-slopes were already gleaming yellow, flaming with a second light, under coldish blue of the pale sky. The front slopes were in shadow, with submerged lustre of red oak scrub and dull-gold aspens, blue-black pines and grey-blue rock. While the canyon was full of a deep blueness.

They rode single file, Romero first, on a black horse. Himself in black, made a flickering black spot in the delicate pallor of the great landscape, where even pine trees at a distance take a film of blue paler than their green. Romero rode on in silence past the tufts of furry greasewood. The Princess came next, on her sorrel mare. And Miss Cummins, who was not quite happy on horseback, came last, in the pale dust that the others kicked up. Sometimes her horse sneezed, and she started.

But on they went at a gentle trot. Romero never looked round. He could hear the sound of the hoofs following, and that was all he wanted.
Lawrence is an absolute master at describing nature.

And some more:


The stream was running full and swift. Occasionally the horses snatched at a tuft of grass. The trail narrowed and became rocky; the rocks closed in; it was dark and cool as the horses climbed and climbed upwards, and the tree trunks crowded in the shadowy, silent tightness of the canyon. They were among cottonwood trees that ran straight up and smooth and round to an extraordinary height. Above, the tips were gold, and it was sun. But away below, where the horses struggled up the rocks and wound among the trunks, there was still blue shadow by the sound of waters and an occasional grey festoon of old man's beard, and here and there a pale, dripping crane's-bill flower among the tangle and the débris of the virgin place. And again the chill entered the Princess's heart as she realised what a tangle of decay and despair lay in the virgin forests.

They scrambled downwards, splashed across stream, up rocks and along the trail of the other side. Romero's black horse stopped, looked down quizzically at the fallen trees, then stepped over lightly. The Princess's sorrel followed, carefully. But Miss Cummins's buckskin made a fuss, and had to be got round.

In the same silence, save for the clinking of the horses and the splashing as the trail crossed stream, they worked their way upwards in the tight, tangled shadow of the canyon. Sometimes, crossing stream, the Princess would glance upwards, and then always her heart caught in her breast. For high up, away in heaven, the mountain heights shone yellow, dappled with dark spruce firs, clear almost as speckled daffodils against the pale turquoise blue lying high and serene above the dark-blue shadow where the Princess was. And she would snatch at the blood-red leaves of the oak as her horse crossed a more open slope, not knowing what she felt.

Let me say that many years ago, oh about fifteen I'm not sure exactly we took a vacation to the Grand Canyon and they have a expedition with mule rides down, camp the night, and mule ride up. Lawrence describes that ride just like we experienced it in the Grand Canyon. I don't have any pictures electronically to share but I pulled some off of google images. This is what it was like:

http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2286/2207512156_3ff8653d0a.jpg

http://lh4.ggpht.com/_cR3L6ulCGNQ/RwvA0TSXXvI/AAAAAAAABTM/KEDfTbRtpQ0/pam+and+dan's+trip+374.jpg

http://www.parkfilms.com/mule-trail.jpg

http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1350/666171531_91a67b3ac8.jpg?v=0

And then Miss Cummins's horse gets hurt:

They were getting fairly high, occasionally lifted above the canyon itself, in the low groove below the speckled, gold-sparkling heights which towered beyond. Then again they dipped and crossed stream, the horses stepping gingerly across a tangle of fallen, frail aspen stems, then suddenly floundering in a mass of rocks. The black emerged ahead, his black tail waving. The Princess let her mare find her own footing; then she too emerged from the clatter. She rode on after the black. Then came a great frantic rattle of the buckskin behind. The Princess was aware of Romero's dark face looking round, with a strange, demon-like watchfulness, before she herself looked round, to see the buckskin scrambling rather lamely beyond the rocks, with one of his pale buff knees already red with blood.
Interesting how Romero's demon-ness comes out and the that for the second paragraph in a row blood is mentioned.

Now the whole incident that forces Miss Cummins to go home s curious. Lawrence could have handled the plot by never bring up Miss Cummins and have Dollie and Romero go off on their own. But he takes great pains to have Miss C tag along, only to contrive an incident immediately to have her go home. The only thing I can think of is that Lawrence is showing how everyone would be appalled if Romero and Dollie went off together, and I'm referring to the impropriaty of a man and a woman being alone in the wild. Check this little scene:

It was a deadlock. The party remained motionless on the trail, the Princess in the saddle, Miss Cummins seated on a rock, Romero standing black and remote near the drooping buckskin.

"Well!" said the man suddenly at last. "I guess we go back, then."

And he looked up swiftly at his horse, which was cropping at the mountain herbage and treading on the trailing reins.

"No!" cried the Princess. "Oh no!" Her voice rang with a great wail of disappointment and anger. Then she checked herself.

Miss Cummins rose with energy.

"Let me lead the buckskin home," she said, with cold dignity, "and you two go on."

This was received in silence. The Princess was looking down at her with a sardonic, almost cruel gaze.

"We've only come about two hours," said Miss Cummins. "I don't mind a bit leading him home. But I couldn't ride him. I couldn't have him ridden with that knee."

This again was received in dead silence. Romero remained impassive, almost inert.
"Dead silience." The silence is an indication that the situation is inappropriate and no one wants to acknowledge it. Except that it never dawns on Dollie what the implication is:

Very well, then," said the Princess. "You lead him home. You'll be quite all right. Nothing can happen to you, possibly. And say to them that we have gone on and shall be home tomorrow--or the day after."

She spoke coldly and distinctly. For she could not bear to be thwarted. Lawrence provides a little irony: "Nothing can happen to you," he has Dollie say, and yet it is to Dollie that something will happen.

[Janine]

Very nice, Virgil, you know I love illustrations. My aunt took that same mull ride in the canyon and loved it. I think this is sort of how I envisioned the story, but maybe not as barren of rocky. New Mexico is a little different, isn't it? or am I wrong? I guess I pictured more forest or more aspen trees. I have to check the text again. These photos are great though and still you do get the idea of the climb...which would be treacherous. I will comment on what you said tomorrow. Too tired out now. Thanks for posting those.

Did you ever see the photos of Lawence's ranch? I have some from the net and they are very cool...also the country around the ranch.

[Virgil]

Yes I have seen pictures of Lawrence's ranch, and I think you are right, Northern New Mexico is probably more wooded than the Grand Canyon. I have never been to northern New Mexico.

[Dark Muse]

It feels like I am never going to get caught back up with this story but I will try later tonight

[Janine]

It feels like I am never going to get caught back up with this story but I will try later tonight

Cheerup; I feel that way, too.....:cool:

[Dark Muse]

I agree the passages describing the journey were quite beautiful, as well as being very vivid, and using some wonderful phrases.

I myself agree with Janine that for The Princess, the trip never really was about getting to see wild animals. I think it was her intent to be alone with Romero, and though ultimately she did get what she wanted, things did not turn out as she would have suspected. But then I am not sure she really had a clear idea as to just what she expected or even wanted to happen on the trip. I think in some ways she was being more or less led or guided by her demon without really thinking it all through.


Interesting how Romero's demon-ness comes out and the that for the second paragraph in a row blood is mentioned.

That is an interesting point, I had not noticed that before, but the sight of blood is what brings out his demon-ness here. And though it has been discussed that the "demon" is not truly something evil, Romero's demon is a rather savage one.

The incident with the horse does work in the way of foreshadow. I think this section as lots of occurrences of foreshadow within it.

This struck me as quite ironical, and after reading it a second, knowing how the story turns out, it made me chuckle.


"Very well. We won't begin to be anxious about you before Thursday, then," said Mrs. Wilkieson, who was young and capable: from Chicago. "Anyway," she added, "Romero will see you through. He's so trustworthy."

This line also seemed to be quite interesting and a bit of foreshadowing


For the rest, he held ahead. And the Princess, with that black, unheeding figure always travelling away from her, felt strangely helpless, withal elated

The other thing which I found quite amusing, was the idea of Romero riding upon the black steed, decked out in black clothing, as the opposite to the cliche of heroes often being presented upon white stallions. And the "knight in shinning armor"

As at the start Romero appears to almost be the sort of "savior" for The Princess, they have a connection and are drawn to each other, and both enjoy the outdoors, they could have made a well matched couple but in the end he ends up being a sort of mock hero, who rather puts the damsel in distress rather then saving her.

The idea of him being portrayed as this sort of anti-knight/hero and her being commonly known as "The Princess" when in she is in fact not a literal princess is all quite ironical.

Even if the plot could have been kept the same if Miss C was not included at all, I think if she was left out completely of this scene, instead of sort of wheedled out, it could have changed the perception of the story, if The Princess from the beginning set out completely alone with Romero without any escort. It would have perhaps made her motives more obvious and taken away any veneer of possible "innocence" in the trip, as well as make The Princess look as if she had intentionally set out to seduce Romero.

[Quark]

Those are nice images, Virgil. None of them have that lurid glow which Lawrence keeps describing, though. I guess it would have to dusk for that.


Even if the plot could have been kept the same if Miss C was not included at all, I think if she was left out completely of this scene, instead of sort of wheedled out, it could have changed the perception of the story, if The Princess from the beginning set out completely alone with Romero without any escort. It would have perhaps made her motives more obvious and taken away any veneer of possible "innocence" in the trip, as well as make The Princess look as if she had intentionally set out to seduce Romero.

The Miss C episodes is interesting. I still don't quite know what we're supposed to take away from it. I think you're right that it obscures Dollie's motives, and makes her appear more "innocent." But, is there more?

Oh, and Janine, I got the CDs from you today. Thanks, I'll listen to them on my trip to Michigan next week.

[Dark Muse]

You also have to consider the time period in which the story was written in. In which it would have been completely unthinkable for a girl to go off with a man without any form of an escort, as well Dollie's family would likely not have approved of the trip if Miss C were not beleive to be present during it. And the incident with her horse provides an opperutnity for some foreshadow. I am not quite sure the episode with her is meant to have some deep symbolic meaning. It just helps stage the plot a little.

[Janine]

I agree the passages describing the journey were quite beautiful, as well as being very vivid, and using some wonderful phrases.

I agree...such lovely passages, and so vivid. I do think some of the best Lawrence has written of nature or the mountain terain. I also liked the fact it was set in the fall; wasn't it set in autumn? The idea of leaves lightly falling seemed significant to me....autumn always gives way to winter and the coldness and this would symbolise a sort of death, especially to Lawrence. Remember he gravitated towards the south and the sunlight. This is just opposite - up, up to the heights where it becomes brutal and cold, especially at in the dead of night, the time of no sunlight.


I myself agree with Janine that for The Princess, the trip never really was about getting to see wild animals. I think it was her intent to be alone with Romero, and though ultimately she did get what she wanted, things did not turn out as she would have suspected. But then I am not sure she really had a clear idea as to just what she expected or even wanted to happen on the trip. I think in some ways she was being more or less led or guided by her demon without really thinking it all through.

I still agree also and have some passages to submit that I think are significant to it. Here is the part when The Princess describing the way in which the father allowed the Princess to view men, both in books and in real life. Remember he is first ingraining in her pysche these ideas about men.


Her father let her see the world--from the outside. And he let her read. When she was in her teens she read Zola and Maupassant, and with the eyes of Zola and Maupassant she looked on Paris. A little later she read Tolstoi and Dostoevsky. The latter confused her. The others, she seemed to understand with a very shrewd, canny understanding, just as she understood the Decameron stories as she read them in their old Italian, or the Nibelung poems.
Strange and uncanny, she seemed to understand things in a cold light perfectly, with all the flush of fire absent. She was something like a
changeling, not quite human.

You did bring this "changeling" thing up awhile ago, Dark Muse. If you read the lines preceeding it, you can see that she knew of men in stories but she probably had a distorted view of them, as well...so that the statement that I bolded up really makes perfect sense "...she seemed to understand things in a cold light perfectly, with all the flush of fire absent."


This earned her, also, strange antipathies. Cabmen and railway porters, especially in Paris and Rome, would suddenly treat her with brutal rudeness, when she was alone. They seemed to look on her with sudden violent antipathy. They sensed in her curious impertinence, an easy, sterile impertinence towards the things they felt most. She was so assured, and her flower of maidenhood was so scentless. She could look at a lusty, sensual Roman cabman as if he were a sort of grotesque, to make her smile. She knew all about him, in Zola. And the peculiar condescension with which she would give him her order, as if she, frail, beautiful thing, were the only reality, and he, coarse monster, was a sort of Caliban floundering in the mud on the margin of the pool of the perfect lotus, would suddenly enrage the fellow, the real Mediterranean who prided himself on his beauté male, and to whom the phallic mystery was still the only mystery. And he would turn a terrible face on her, bully her in a brutal, coarse fashion--hideous. For to him she had only the blasphemous impertinence of her own sterility.

Here we see she does have the knowledge of men and the phallic ("She knew all about him, in Zola") but she is cool and aloof with them; this drives these very sexually alive men wild; how different is this from the outcome of the story. This part definitely forshadows the coming events, and deflating of Romeros pride and his manhood; both being connected to this type of Mediterranean man "who prided himself on this beauté male, and to whom the phallic mystery was still the only mystery."


Encounters like these made her tremble, and made her know she must have support from the outside. The power of her spirit did not extend to these low people, and they had all the physical power. She realised an implacability of hatred in their turning on her. But she did not lose her head. She quietly paid out money and turned away.


"support from outside" - that line is interesting. I guess she would have had support from Miss Cummins if the had not retreated to return home. Now she has not outside support; she only has herself and she is totally left vulnerable for the first time in her life. What a shock that much be. Then the next statement says the low people had all the physical power. She did not have this power either, only the power of her spirit which is not match for the physical strength of a man. "..she did not lose her head"...sort of forshadows the moment she does lose her head and allow Romero in her bed, then she immediately wants to regain her control.


That is an interesting point, I had not noticed that before, but the sight of blood is what brings out his demon-ness here. And though it has been discussed that the "demon" is not truly something evil, Romero's demon is a rather savage one.


The incident with the horse does work in the way of foreshadow. I think this section as lots of occurrences of foreshadow within it.

Not sure what you mean here. I kind of do see the horse incident as significant foreshadowing; in that one can't always have control over everything, especially when it concerns nature.


This struck me as quite ironical, and after reading it a second, knowing how the story turns out, it made me chuckle.

Yes, it does do that...have that effect, after knowing the ending.


This line also seemed to be quite interesting and a bit of foreshadowing

Yes, good line to point out. I agree with you.


The other thing which I found quite amusing, was the idea of Romero riding upon the black steed, decked out in black clothing, as the opposite to the cliche of heroes often being presented upon white stallions. And the "knight in shinning armor"

Well, again the black is definitely foreshadowing the outcome of the story - black, night, sleep, death....the black seems entirely right to me...true that when considering the idea of a princess white would represent her ideal prince, but something inside her is drawn to his inner demon and it turns out that is dark, mysterious, night, death, blood consciousness, phallic mystery...all those rolled into one. As people are drawn to a dark side so is the princess even though she can't fully embrass it or accept it.


As at the start Romero appears to almost be the sort of "savior" for The Princess, they have a connection and are drawn to each other, and both enjoy the outdoors, they could have made a well matched couple but in the end he ends up being a sort of mock hero, who rather puts the damsel in distress rather then saving her.

That is good - a mock hero. However, I think probably to Lawrence he is a lot more. He definitely represents many of L's darker ideas of man.


The idea of him being portrayed as this sort of anti-knight/hero and her being commonly known as "The Princess" when in she is in fact not a literal princess is all quite ironical.

Yes, I agree that it is. I think Lawrence knew that and he often wrote things ironically. I think the demon is a big part of this with Romero. If you read this passage again you see what her father told her about the demon and if you read this now with Romero in-mind and the ending it makes more sense.


"My little Princess must never take too much notice of people and the things they say and do," he repeated to her. "People don't know what they are doing and saying. They chatter-chatter, and they hurt one another, and they hurt themselves very often, till they cry.

Isn't that precisely what actually happens to The Princess? Romero is hurt and so is she. He is more so perhaps but he shows only force after that and male power; but then eventually he shows violence. "The hurt one another".


But don't take any notice, my little Princess. Because it is all nothing. Inside everybody there is another creature, a demon which doesn't care at all. You peel away all the things they say and do and feel, as cook peels away the outside of the onions. And in the middle of everybody there is a green demon which you can't peel away. And this green demon never changes, and it doesn't care at all about all the things that happen to the outside leaves of the person, all the chatter-chatter, and all the husbands and wives and children, and troubles and fusses. You peel everything away from people, and there is a green, upright demon in every man and woman; and this demon is a man's real self, and a woman's real self. It doesn't really care about anybody, it belongs to the demons and the primitive fairies, who never care. But, even so, there are big demons and mean demons, and splendid demonish fairies, and vulgar ones.

This really explains the demon idea....they seem to be a variety of demons out there....however,


But there are no royal fairy women left. Only you, my little Princess. You are the last of the royal race of the old people; the last, my Princess. There are no others. You and I are the last. When I am dead there will be only you. And that is why, darling, you will never care for any of the people in the world very much. Because their demons are all dwindled and vulgar. They are not royal. Only you are royal, after me. Always remember that. And always remember, it is a great secret. If you tell people, they will try to kill you, because they will envy you for being a Princess. It is our great secret, darling.

Wow, those lines are really significant...first he keeps impressing upon her the idea that they are royal and others are not. Then he sys he is the prince and she the princess....."You and I are the last" - that makes it even more special and significant, so they have to carry on the tradition of being the royal race. "Oh heavy burden"...Shakespeare....geez, but truly it is for The Princess in the end...."When I am dead there will be only you."...that is really sad if you think about it.

"their demons are all dwindled and vulgar"...."they are not royal..."...the contast is stark.


I am a prince, and you a princess, of the old, old blood. And we keep our secret between us, all alone. And so, darling, you must treat all people very politely, because noblesse oblige. But you must never forget that [QUOTE]you alone are the last of Princesses, and that all other are less than you are, less noble, more vulgar. Treat them politely and gently and kindly, darling. But you are the Princess, and they are commoners. Never try to think of them as if they were like you. They are not. You will find, always, that they are lacking, lacking in the royal touch, which only you have--"

This perfectly describes her attitude towards Romero. "Treat them politely and gently and kindly, darling."....



Even if the plot could have been kept the same if Miss C was not included at all, I think if she was left out completely of this scene, instead of sort of wheedled out, it could have changed the perception of the story, if The Princess from the beginning set out completely alone with Romero without any escort. It would have perhaps made her motives more obvious and taken away any veneer of possible "innocence" in the trip, as well as make The Princess look as if she had intentionally set out to seduce Romero.

That is an interesting premise. I think you are right to some degree. Why was she taking along Miss Cummins but then it had stated she had gone with them before. Now as fate had it and the horse became injured or lame then Romero did say that would all go back; but still The Princess pushed him to take her onward. She was pretty determined at that point and was not willing to let go of the idea of going on.

[Virgil]

Here we see she does have the knowledge of men and the phallic ("She knew all about him, in Zola") but she is cool and aloof with them; this drives these very sexually alive men wild; how different is this from the outcome of the story. This part definitely forshadows the coming events, and deflating of Romeros pride and his manhood; both being connected to this type of Mediterranean man "who prided himself on this beauté male, and to whom the phallic mystery was still the only mystery."


I completely disagree Janine. Lawrence detested "book knowledge." For him to call her knowledge of sexuality as derived from books is ironic and really what he means is that she has no real knowledge. For all she knows Romero is some character from a book, but which character? A knight in shining armor who has platonic love or something else? But it doesn't matter. What she doesn't see is that Romero is a flesh and blood man who is very close to the earth, to phallic consciousness, and that's not in a book.

[Janine]

I completely disagree Janine. Lawrence detested "book knowledge." For him to call her knowledge of sexuality as derived from books is ironic and really what he means is that she has no real knowledge. For all she knows Romero is some character from a book, but which character? A knight in shining armor who has platonic love or something else? But it doesn't matter. What she doesn't see is that Romero is a flesh and blood man who is very close to the earth, to phallic consciousness, and that's not in a book.

Maybe you need to read Zola.;):lol:...but actually I do see your point and yes, she definitely does have a distorted view of Romero and other men. I agree with this part, and if you wish, you can label that naive. It is not total naivity but it somewhat naive; in a way it is fantasy...it is not a real experience when learned about in a book and not first hand. She had not true contact with men sexually so she was indeed naive to what that truly means or entails. However, I think she envisioned a whole different type experience with Romero. I think she did egg him on at parts of the story. She just did not realise to what extend, she was egging him on. Her father did create for her an 'unreal world', one very fairy-like, princess-like, concerning men; this was exactly what I was trying to point out. Her thinking is totally distorted and unreal. It is strange she should hate Dostoyevski most; we just read "The Idiot" on here, in which the woman is very much out of the realm of reality; yet she is princess-like, admired by all the men she meets, sought after by many, but also ruins so many lives along her path in life. I found Lawrence reference to D's work of interest.

[Virgil]

Maybe you need to read Zola.;):lol:...but actually I do see your point and yes, she definitely does have a distorted view of Romero and other men. I agree with this part, and if you wish, you can label that naive. It is not total naivity but it somewhat naive; in a way it is fantasy...it is not a real experience when learned about in a book and not first hand. She had not true contact with men sexually so she was indeed naive to what that truly means or entails. However, I think she envisioned a whole different type experience with Romero. I think she did egg him on at parts of the story. She just did not realise to what extend, she was egging him on. Her father did create for her an 'unreal world', one very fairy-like, princess-like, concerning men; this was exactly what I was trying to point out. Her thinking is totally distorted and unreal.
Now we agree. :D


It is strange she should hate Dostoyevski most; we just read "The Idiot" on here, in which the woman is very much out of the realm of reality; yet she is princess-like, admired by all the men she meets, sought after by many, but also ruins so many lives along her path in life. I found Lawrence reference to D's work of interest.
I must have missed that. Where is Doestevski mentioned? What page?

[Janine]

Now we agree. :D

Somewhat but not entirely...but that's a start..


I must have missed that. Where is Doestevski mentioned? What page?

In this paragraph,


Her father let her see the world--from the outside. And he let her read. When she was in her teens she read Zola and Maupassant, and with the eyes of Zola and Maupassant she looked on Paris. A little later she read Tolstoi and Dostoevsky. The latter confused her. The others, she seemed to understand with a very shrewd, canny understanding, just as she understood the Decameron stories as she read them in their old Italian, or the Nibelung poems. Strange and uncanny, she seemed to understand things in a cold light perfectly, with all the flush of fire absent. She was something like a changeling, not quite human.

I thought I had already quoted this a few posts back. I don't know now....too confusing.

[Dark Muse]

She does not really say that she hates Dostoevsky though

[Janine]

She does not really say that she hates Dostoevsky though

Right, it just says "The latter confused her."...oh, sorry my mistake on the earlier post...right she was just confused by the author; perhaps she could not relate.

[Virgil]

Oh yes, you did point thaat out and I do remember. I think she's confused by Dostevsky because he's also anti intellectual and captures a blood vitality.

[Quark]

Oh yes, you did point thaat out and I do remember. I think she's confused by Dostevsky because he's also anti intellectual and captures a blood vitality.

I don't know if Dostoevsky really captures a "bloody vitality," but I would agree with the anti-intellectual part. The princess appears to recognize only the ideal perception of reality--rather than its immediate experience. Writers like Lawrence and Dosdoevsky probably would look down upon this. When the narrator tells us that she doesn't understand Dosdoevsky, we probably should take this as meaning that she also doesn't get Lawrence and what he's trying to do in this story. It's a bit of irony. Later, she's led to New Mexico where she tries to experience these things first-hand, but still is unable to understand what's going on.

[Janine]

I think that is a good point, Quark, I would agree mostly with what you said.

Funny, Lawrence liked D first time he read him, then after repeated readings, he deeply criticised the author. Now I believe he liked best of all his books "The Idiot" - the novel we recently discussed on here. It was a good book and very symbolic, especially with the Christ-like figure. Interesting to me that L used a reference to D in this story.

Hey, I love your new signature quote - Chekhov "Dreams" eh? Did we read and discuss "Dreams" yet? duh, I forget. Is "Dreams" a short story? I seem to vaguely recall it.

BTW, did you get the CD's yet in the mail?

[Dark Muse]

I think Dreams was the last story we just did.

[Janine]

I think Dreams was the last story we just did.

Was it really? Geez, now I can't recall a thing about it...that is strange...did I participate in that discussion?

[Dark Muse]

Yes you did. It was the one with the Tramp who was going to be exiled, and he was talking to the two constables, walking through the damp mashy land

[Janine]

Yes you did. It was the one with the Tramp who was going to be exiled, and he was talking to the two constables, walking through the damp mashy land

Oh yeah, now it came back to me. It didn't have much plot so that is probably why I forgot it. Thanks for refreshing my poor memory. Right at present it is a wonder I can think clearly at all; been going through a family crisis. For now I don't think I can post much more in this thread but I will try my best when I can.

[Virgil]

Are we ready for the next section?

[Quark]

Are we ready for the next section?

Certainly


Funny, Lawrence liked D first time he read him, then after repeated readings, he deeply criticised the author. Now I believe he liked best of all his books "The Idiot" - the novel we recently discussed on here. It was a good book and very symbolic, especially with the Christ-like figure. Interesting to me that L used a reference to D in this story.

Why the change of heart? I can see why he would like Dostoevsky, but why wouldn't he? Was it the bloodless, virginal heroes? I think L would probably like Dmitri from The Brothers Karamazov, but, of course, he isn't the hero.

It's too bad I missed that discussion on "The Idiot." I reread it a couple of weeks ago. I'll have to review what was said.


Hey, I love your new signature quote - Chekhov "Dreams" eh? Did we read and discuss "Dreams" yet? duh, I forget. Is "Dreams" a short story? I seem to vaguely recall it.

I think Dreams was the last story we just did.

DM is right. We read that story a few months ago. I've just been too lazy to change my signature.


did I participate in that discussion?

Yes, but apparently you were in a haze the whole time.


BTW, did you get the CD's yet in the mail?

I picked them up a few days ago. They will come in quite handy on the long car drive up to Michigan that I have take later next week. Thanks again, and nice handwriting--very, very cursive--by the way.

[Janine]

Why the change of heart? I can see why he would like Dostoevsky, but why wouldn't he? Was it the bloodless, virginal heroes? I think L would probably like Dmitri from The Brothers Karamazov, but, of course, he isn't the hero.

Not sure now, Quark. I read it in his Essay book on Literature. I own the book now so I will have to check it out and get back to you. Like anything else Lawrence, his reasons were pretty complicated. Probably was the 'bloodless, virginal heroes'...haha - that is a good way of stating it. He sort of hated the Grand Inquisitor I think but I didn't read those books so I didn't fully comprehend what he was getting at. I will get back to you on it someday when I read those essays.

[QUOTE]It's too bad I missed that discussion on "The Idiot." I reread it a couple of weeks ago. I'll have to review what was said.

Yeah, that was a good book and a good discussion, as well.


DM is right. We read that story a few months ago. I've just been too lazy to change my signature.

Oh, that is true; you did have that signature back then, but I still like it.


Yes, but apparently you were in a haze the whole time. Truly I believe I was, or was it a fog? ;)


I picked them up a few days ago. They will come in quite handy on the long car drive up to Michigan that I have take later next week. Thanks again, and nice handwriting--very, very cursive--by the way.

Great! They would be neat to listen to in the car. I had not thought of that before. I usually listen to them on headphones so I concentrate really well; except often I fall asleep and wake up somewhere way advanced and then don't know at what point I dozed off...sort of a pain when that happens. Hope you enjoy the stories on CD...haha...I always think I write sloppy on those discs...thanks, I can write nicer cursive than that really. It tends to be problematic writing on slippery plastic.

Mr. Branagh played "Ivanov" on stage recently in London; you can see some stills on video clips on Youtube. It looked to be a very good play/production. One of the videos has some of the audio included. Sounds like an interesting story/play. Ever read it, Quark? Chekhov wrote it when he was very young, I understand from the discussion panel on the one video clip - may have said 17. Wow, to have such talent!

[Virgil]

Ok, I know you've been dying for the next section. ;)


"Better all go back, and come again another day," said Romero--non-committal.

"There will never be another day," cried the Princess. "I want to go on."

She looked at him square in the eyes, and met the spark in his eye.

He raised his shoulders slightly.

"If you want it," he said. "I'll go on with you. But Miss Cummins can ride my horse to the end of the canyon, and I lead the buckskin. Then I come back to you."

It was arranged so. Miss Cummins had her saddle put on Romero's black horse, Romero took the buckskin's bridle, and they started back. The Princess rode very slowly on, upwards, alone. She was at first so angry with Miss Cummins that she was blind to everything else. She just let her mare follow her own inclinations.

The peculiar spell of anger carried the Princess on, almost unconscious, for an hour or so. And by this time she was beginning to climb pretty high. Her horse walked steadily all the time. They emerged on a bare slope, and the trail wound through frail aspen stems. Here a wind swept, and some of the aspens were already bare. Others were fluttering their discs of pure, solid yellow leaves, so nearly like petals, while the slope ahead was one soft, glowing fleece of daffodil yellow; fleecy like a golden foxskin, and yellow as daffodils alive in the wind and the high mountain sun.

She paused and looked back. The near great slopes were mottled with gold and the dark hue of spruce, like some unsinged eagle, and the light lay gleaming upon them. Away through the gap of the canyon she could see the pale blue of the egg-like desert, with the crumpled dark crack of the Rio Grande Canyon. And far, far off, the blue mountains like a fence of angels on the horizon.

And she thought of her adventure. She was going on alone with Romero. But then she was very sure of herself, and Romero was not the kind of man to do anything to her against her will. This was her first thought. And she just had a fixed desire to go over the brim of the mountains, to look into the inner chaos of the Rockies. And she wanted to go with Romero, because he had some peculiar kinship with her; there was some peculiar link between the two of them. Miss Cummins anyhow would have been only a discordant note.

She rode on, and emerged at length in the lap of the summit. Beyond her was a great concave of stone and stark, dead-grey trees, where the mountain ended against the sky. But nearer was the dense black, bristling spruce, and at her feet was the lap of the summit, a flat little valley of sere grass and quiet-standing yellow aspens, the stream trickling like a thread across.

It was a little valley or shell from which the stream was gently poured into the lower rocks and trees of the canyon. Around her was a fairy-like gentleness, the delicate sere grass, the groves of delicate-stemmed aspens dropping their flakes of bright yellow. And the delicate, quick little stream threading through the wild, sere grass.

Here one might expect deer and fawns and wild things, as in a little paradise. Here she was to wait for Romero, and they were to have lunch.

She unfastened her saddle and pulled it to the ground with a crash, letting her horse wander with a long rope. How beautiful Tansy looked, sorrel, among the yellow leaves that lay like a patina on the sere ground. The Princess herself wore a fleecy sweater of a pale, sere buff, like the grass, and riding-breeches of a pure orange-tawny colour. She felt quite in the picture.

From her saddle-pouches she took the packages of lunch, spread a little cloth, and sat to wait for Romero. Then she made a little fire. Then she ate a devilled egg. Then she ran after Tansy, who was straying across-stream. Then she sat in the sun, in the stillness near the aspens, and waited.

The sky was blue. Her little alp was soft and delicate as fairy-land. But beyond and up jutted the great slopes, dark with the pointed feathers of spruce, bristling with grey dead trees among grey rock, or dappled with dark and gold. The beautiful, but fierce, heavy cruel mountains, with their moments of tenderness.

She saw Tansy start, and begin to run. Two ghost-like figures on horseback emerged from the black of the spruce across the stream. It was two Indians on horseback, swathed like seated mummies in their pale-grey cotton blankets. Their guns jutted beyond the saddles. They rode straight towards her, to her thread of smoke.

As they came near, they unswathed themselves and greeted her, looking at her curiously from their dark eyes. Their black hair was somewhat untidy, the long rolled plaits on their shoulders were soiled. They looked tired.

They got down from their horses near her little fire--a camp was a camp--swathed their blankets round their hips, pulled the saddles from their ponies and turned them loose, then sat down. One was a young Indian whom she had met before, the other was an older man.

"You all alone?" said the younger man.

"Romero will be here in a minute," she said, glancing back along the trail.

"Ah, Romero! You with him? Where are you going?"

"Round the ridge," she said. "Where are you going?"

"We going down to Pueblo."

"Been out hunting? How long have you been out?"

"Yes. Been out five days." The young Indian gave a little meaningless laugh.

"Got anything?"

"No. We see tracks of two deer--but not got nothing."

The Princess noticed a suspicious-looking bulk under one of the saddles--surely a folded-up deer. But she said nothing.

"You must have been cold," she said.

"Yes, very cold in the night. And hungry. Got nothing to eat since yesterday. Eat it all up." And again he laughed his little meaningless laugh. Under their dark skins, the two men looked peaked and hungry. The Princess rummaged for food among the saddle-bags. There was a lump of bacon--the regular stand-back--and some bread. She gave them this, and they began toasting slices of it on long sticks at the fire. Such was the little camp Romero saw as he rode down the slope: the Princess in her orange breeches, her head tied in a blue-and-brown silk kerchief, sitting opposite the two dark-headed Indians across the camp-fire, while one of the Indians was leaning forward toasting bacon, his two plaits of braid-hair dangling as if wearily.

Romero rode up, his face expressionless. The Indians greeted him in Spanish. He unsaddled his horse, took food from the bags, and sat down at the camp to eat. The Princess went to the stream for water, and to wash her hands.

"Got coffee?" asked the Indians.

"No coffee this outfit," said Romero.

They lingered an hour or more in the warm midday sun. Then Romero saddled the horses. The Indians still squatted by the fire. Romero and the Princess rode away, calling Adios! to the Indians over the stream and into the dense spruce whence two strange figures had emerged.

I found this a fascinating passage. First Lawrence has Romero leave the scene to go with Miss Cummins. He could have created a justification for Misss Cummins to go back alone, but he doesn't. He has Dollie go on alone. Such a facinating passage of her alone. Here look at it carefully:

The peculiar spell of anger carried the Princess on, almost unconscious, for an hour or so. And by this time she was beginning to climb pretty high. Her horse walked steadily all the time. They emerged on a bare slope, and the trail wound through frail aspen stems. Here a wind swept, and some of the aspens were already bare. Others were fluttering their discs of pure, solid yellow leaves, so nearly like petals, while the slope ahead was one soft, glowing fleece of daffodil yellow; fleecy like a golden foxskin, and yellow as daffodils alive in the wind and the high mountain sun.

She paused and looked back. The near great slopes were mottled with gold and the dark hue of spruce, like some unsinged eagle, and the light lay gleaming upon them. Away through the gap of the canyon she could see the pale blue of the egg-like desert, with the crumpled dark crack of the Rio Grande Canyon. And far, far off, the blue mountains like a fence of angels on the horizon.
I noticed the focus on the color yellow and wonder if there is any significance. Certainly the flowers alive in the inert and lifeless canyon is striking and I think a symbol of Lawrence's paradisial ideal. They have no will and everything about the Princess has been about her will and how she hated to be "thwarted." Lawrence continues:

And she thought of her adventure. She was going on alone with Romero. But then she was very sure of herself, and Romero was not the kind of man to do anything to her against her will. This was her first thought. And she just had a fixed desire to go over the brim of the mountains, to look into the inner chaos of the Rockies. And she wanted to go with Romero, because he had some peculiar kinship with her; there was some peculiar link between the two of them. Miss Cummins anyhow would have been only a discordant note.

She rode on, and emerged at length in the lap of the summit. Beyond her was a great concave of stone and stark, dead-grey trees, where the mountain ended against the sky. But nearer was the dense black, bristling spruce, and at her feet was the lap of the summit, a flat little valley of sere grass and quiet-standing yellow aspens, the stream trickling like a thread across.
Notice how she thinks her will is paramount, and she continues to exert it with her "fixed desire to go over the brim of the mountains." And Lawrence continues:

It was a little valley or shell from which the stream was gently poured into the lower rocks and trees of the canyon. Around her was a fairy-like gentleness, the delicate sere grass, the groves of delicate-stemmed aspens dropping their flakes of bright yellow. And the delicate, quick little stream threading through the wild, sere grass.

Here one might expect deer and fawns and wild things, as in a little paradise. Here she was to wait for Romero, and they were to have lunch.
Here we get the direct announcement of a paradise, even with a suggestion of the super natural, faires. And she makes a little camp here and the setting imposes on her:

The sky was blue. Her little alp was soft and delicate as fairy-land. But beyond and up jutted the great slopes, dark with the pointed feathers of spruce, bristling with grey dead trees among grey rock, or dappled with dark and gold. The beautiful, but fierce, heavy cruel mountains, with their moments of tenderness.
I think the mountains, with their cruelty and tenderness, are looking down on her and I think later take on even more importance, but here I think Lawrence is setting us up for a relationship between Dollie and the mountains, the mountains being dieties in which she just doesn't understand the language.

Other interesting things from this passage? I found the way Romero responds to her after she insists on going on curious:

"There will never be another day," cried the Princess. "I want to go on."

She looked at him square in the eyes, and met the spark in his eye.

He raised his shoulders slightly.

"If you want it," he said. "I'll go on with you...
Normally someone would say "if you want to," but I think there is a sexual double entedre in the way Lawrence has Romero phrase it. And she doesn't get it. :lol:

I also found curious the situation between the two Indians who come upon her camp. It strikes me that this could have been a dangerous situation for a woman alone and they could have taken advantage of her and perhaps would have if Romero wasn't mentioned and if he didn't show up shortly. I put this into a Lawrence context of another story he wrote the same year as this called "The Woman Who Rode Away," a story of a woman taken prisoner by an group of Indians, one of the truely great short stories ever written if you ask me. Again this scene with the Indians here serves no structural purpose to the story. It could have been left out and it wouldn't have mattered, but I think it adds thematic material: the sense of danger, the native people living off the wild, the masculine culture.

[Janine]

Ok, I know you've been dying for the next section. ;)

Oh yeah, just dying for you to post this. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve you know. I am suppose to be able to think right now? I answer this as best I can.


I found this a fascinating passage. First Lawrence has Romero leave the scene to go with Miss Cummins. He could have created a justification for Misss Cummins to go back alone, but he doesn't. He has Dollie go on alone. Such a facinating passage of her alone. Here look at it carefully:

I thought that was some of the most beautiful writing I ever read from Lawrence - descriptive. Don't you perceive that the 'yellow' corresponds to the sun and the warmth that Lawrence craved? Also, the way the leaves are fluttering and falling away from the tree reminds me of a fallen or scattered sort of sunlight. I do think the color very significant and then also referring to the area looking like daffodils. How sunny a daffodil is. I think she is basking in sunlight and nature when she comes to that glen - where she expects to have this romantic picnic with Romero, not what he has in-mind. Once again, I don't picture this terrain the way you showed it in your Grand Canyon photos. I see it more like a combination of high ground with woodlands and plenty of aspen trees. I have encountered this type of place out west and it was a gradual climb, not so severe as in the Grand Canyon but still it can be quite treacherous. I still must dig up those photos of NM and the areas around the ranch...then you will see what I mean...there were meadows there and probably the terrain has more variations and not just bare granite.


I noticed the focus on the color yellow and wonder if there is any significance. Certainly the flowers alive in the inert and lifeless canyon is striking and I think a symbol of Lawrence's paradisial ideal. They have no will and everything about the Princess has been about her will and how she hated to be "thwarted." Lawrence continues:

I think the yellow refers to sun, sunlight, brightness, flowers, life as opposed to death. Yes, definitely a symbol of 'Lawrence's paradisial ideal'...good thought. Yes, and this story certainly does have a great deal to do with 'will'. Right, she 'hated to be thwarted' and she remained so even to the end of this story.


Notice how she thinks her will is paramount, and she continues to exert it with her "fixed desire to go over the brim of the mountains." And Lawrence continues:

Well, her father built her up to think it was paramount. She learned it at a very early age. One cannot really blame her thinking. It is distorted to a degree; I think Lawrence is no condemning her but understanding her; otherwise why would he take the time in the beginning of this story to spend telling us of her early years and how she was shaped; how her thinking was formed?


Here we get the direct announcement of a paradise, even with a suggestion of the super natural, faires. And she makes a little camp here and the setting imposes on her:

Yes, very 'fairy-like' and at least temporarily a 'paradise' to her. Yes, I noticed the way the setting begins to impose itself on her. The setting is a character in itself....very threatening are the dark mountains. The sunny glen as a great contrast to dark menacing mountains...mountains in shadow.


I think the mountains, with their cruelty and tenderness, are looking down on her and I think later take on even more importance, but here I think Lawrence is setting us up for a relationship between Dollie and the mountains, the mountains being dieties in which she just doesn't understand the language.

True...she sees them as 'cruel' and yet 'tender'...now that is interesting. So does this mean she later sees Romero as 'cruel, but tender'?


Other interesting things from this passage? I found the way Romero responds to her after she insists on going on curious:

I didn't find it that curious. I think he was being cautious, in a way covering his own tracks, know what I mean? He may have sensed he was heading down a path of danger taking her into the mountains - crossing that thin line that had, up until now, existed between them.


Normally someone would say "if you want to," but I think there is a sexual double entedre in the way Lawrence has Romero phrase it. And she doesn't get it. :lol:

Yes, I thought the same thing. One has to really read carefully exactly how Lawrence writes the lines. That is significant I think. Again he is being cautious with her, asking all the right questions before-hand.


I also found curious the situation between the two Indians who come upon her camp. It strikes me that this could have been a dangerous situation for a woman alone and they could have taken advantage of her and perhaps would have if Romero wasn't mentioned and if he didn't show up shortly. I put this into a Lawrence context of another story he wrote the same year as this called "The Woman Who Rode Away," a story of a woman taken prisoner by an group of Indians, one of the truely great short stories ever written if you ask me. Again this scene with the Indians here serves no structural purpose to the story. It could have been left out and it wouldn't have mattered, but I think it adds thematic material: the sense of danger, the native people living off the wild, the masculine culture.

You know, I felt that built suspense and introduced the notion into our heads concerning real danger. Up until then one could say, things might be fine really but we realise that something strange is going to happen the closer we get to the top of the incline, the mountains. This reminds me of the mountains in "The Prussian Officer" except those were white with glistening cold snow, weren't they? Also, in WIL, the mountains become the cold deadly fate for Gerald. It seems that fate is driving the Princess onward and upward, too. She is drawn by her own desire to climb to the nature she wishes to experience, but in the end, it will be fatal to her...almost climbing to a sort of death - an emotional death...for Romero the death is physical, for the Princess she appears 'untouched', but I believe she experiences a full emotional death...as a woman she now is like a shell of emptiness...I don't know...does that make sense? I am a little tired out, so not sure I am making logical sense, at this point. It is just a thought - something to throw out there and see what you think.

Added this today - 24th:
I will be on vacation from this thread until the weekend.
Everybody, have a great Christmas!
Best Wishes ~ Janine

[Zee.]

Hello, excuse the interruption but I was curious to whether there had been any discussion of his three novellas? my meaning being the compilation of The Fox, The Captain's Doll and The Ladybird.

If you haven't - i must insist you read them. After reading Virgin and the Gypsy ( Gipsy? ) i was slightly put off Lawrence until I read the previously mentioned.

[Virgil]

Hello, excuse the interruption but I was curious to whether there had been any discussion of his three novellas? my meaning being the compilation of The Fox, The Captain's Doll and The Ladybird.

If you haven't - i must insist you read them. After reading Virgin and the Gypsy ( Gipsy? ) i was slightly put off Lawrence until I read the previously mentioned.

Oh we have not discussed those works limajean. I have read only The Fox of those four novellas. But I would love to read the other three and even The Fox again. In a few months we plan to read together and discuss The Rainbow. Perhaps you can join us. :)

[Zee.]

Ahhh, well, when you do read the novellas, i'll sure have something to say.
Maybe you could keep me posted?

[Janine]

Welcome limajean!

Personally, I think it will be awhile before we do discuss those in this thread; we may even consider starting a 'novella' thread for Lawrence. In this thread we still have a number of his short stories to discuss. Lawrence wrote a ton of them.

I recently saw the film that was based on "The Virgin and the Gypsy" and I did like it. I re-read the story not long ago. I loved "The Fox" and recently I read the novella/short story "Love Among the Haystakes". You might be interested in that read. I really enjoyed it a lot - more pastoral and from Lawrence early period, I believe. I don't think I ever read "Captain's Doll" or "The Ladybird". I had always planned on it but seems I didn't get to those yet. I have read most of Lawrence work and some twice now for our discussions.

Just a suggestion, but when we do the next short story, why not join us for the discussion. I don't know if we will chose one next month or every other month. We have to talk it over since several of us also participate in the Chekhov short story thread; recently I suggested we alternate the stories and discussions.

At anyrate, we will be sure to keep you informed.

[Zee.]

When the next story is decided upon, i'll join in. I'll follow the thread closely so i don't fall behind. :]

I wasn't much of a fan of Virgin and the Gypsy. However, my reading of the three novellas certainly changed my opinion of Lawrence...

[Virgil]

That's great Limajean. We'll be glad to have you join us. :)

[Janine]

I second that, limajean, and welcome to the forum!

[Zee.]

Thanks! :]

[Janine]

Thanks! :]

limajean, I thought your signature line might be from Lawrence. I was thinking more of "The Fox", but now I see how it would be more likely from "The Ladybird"...I may have read that one; just not totally sure. I love all Lawrence's work. Lawrence often draws references to eyes, especially in an 'animal' sense.

I had two signature lines from Lawrence before Christmas came along; most likely I will have one again - maybe something to do with winter, this time. Currently, I have a photo of Lawrence's cabin in NM on my desktop. I really like the way it looks and just to think of the great man there and writing these stories thrills me.

[Virgil]

I think the yellow refers to sun, sunlight, brightness, flowers, life as opposed to death. Yes, definitely a symbol of 'Lawrence's paradisial ideal'...good thought. Yes, and this story certainly does have a great deal to do with 'will'. Right, she 'hated to be thwarted' and she remained so even to the end of this story.

Yes, sun and life, I can agree with that.


Well, her father built her up to think it was paramount. She learned it at a very early age. One cannot really blame her thinking. It is distorted to a degree; I think Lawrence is no condemning her but understanding her; otherwise why would he take the time in the beginning of this story to spend telling us of her early years and how she was shaped; how her thinking was formed?
There I disagree. I think Lawrence has a hostility toward the Princess. He had a hostility toward Dorothy Brett, and I think it comes out in this story.

[Dark Muse]

The peculiar spell of anger carried the Princess on, almost unconscious, for an hour or so. And by this time she was beginning to climb pretty high. Her horse walked steadily all the time. They emerged on a bare slope, and the trail wound through frail aspen stems. Here a wind swept, and some of the aspens were already bare. Others were fluttering their discs of pure, solid yellow leaves, so nearly like petals, while the slope ahead was one soft, glowing fleece of daffodil yellow; fleecy like a golden foxskin, and yellow as daffodils alive in the wind and the high mountain sun.

This is a beautiful passage, and another example of Lawrence's ability to describe nature scenes. It is so very vivid in the description. And interesting the heavy use and reference to the color yellow in the leaves and the flowers in connection with the sun.

After I finished typing up my responses to the next section posted, I noticed your own comments on this passage Virgil. I agree that it is indeed an interesting one, and the section of The Princess going off alone is quite a loaded one.

And the use of yellow and gold comes up a lot beyond this point. I also found it interesting how The Princess is later descirbed as yearing something fleecy


She paused and looked back. The near great slopes were mottled with gold and the dark hue of spruce, like some unsinged eagle, and the light lay gleaming upon them. Away through the gap of the canyon she could see the pale blue of the egg-like desert, with the crumpled dark crack of the Rio Grande Canyon. And far, far off, the blue mountains like a fence of angels on the horizon.

This is another passage I really liked. I thought it had some interesting references.

I loved the image of the unsinged eagle and I also thought the pale blue of the egg-like desert was interesting. And I liked the play of dark coming into this scene. In contrast to above which was bright and sunny, here the darkness seems to be creeping in more.


fence of angels on the horizon

this was another interesting one I thought.

I noticed as well some of these allusions turn up later within this section. The use of pale blue, and there is something else further down that is descirbed as being egg like in shape. Though I am not sure what it is intended to mean. I found it interesting.


And she just had a fixed desire to go over the brim of the mountains, to look into the inner chaos of the Rockies.

This seemed to be very symbolic to me. Her desire to want to look into the "inner chaos" while she is determined and assured of wishing to go off with Romero. She feels a bound and a kinship with him and yet she does not truly know what it is she wants or intends, she is at a conflict with herself. She does not truly see herself as being married to Romero and yet his demon seems to draw her own toward him.


Miss Cummins anyhow would have been only a discordant note

This struck me as interesting as well. Though The Princess truly had nothing to do with Miss Cummins accident, and it really was just a natural accident, reading the story, there was always a feeling as if somehow it was a planed event. The Princess did have to get Miss Cummins out of the way. Of course if she were present, then the events could not take place as they happened. She stood in the way.


She rode on, and emerged at length in the lap of the summit. Beyond her was a great concave of stone and stark, dead-grey trees, where the mountain ended against the sky. But nearer was the dense black, bristling spruce, and at her feet was the lap of the summit, a flat little valley of sere grass and quiet-standing yellow aspens, the stream trickling like a thread across.

As the princess continues onward, it seems she is moving more and more into the darkness, and farther away from the light. This is a bit of foreshadow I think, as she is drawn closer to the event that is about to occur.


The beautiful, but fierce, heavy cruel mountains, with their moments of tenderness.

This seems to me almost like a description of Romero though it is talking about the landscape. It is one of the many ways in which the surroundings do reflect upon the characters.

[Zee.]

limajean, I thought your signature line might be from Lawrence. I was thinking more of "The Fox", but now I see how it would be more likely from "The Ladybird"...I may have read that one; just not totally sure. I love all Lawrence's work. Lawrence often draws references to eyes, especially in an 'animal' sense.

I had two signature lines from Lawrence before Christmas came along; most likely I will have one again - maybe something to do with winter, this time. Currently, I have a photo of Lawrence's cabin in NM on my desktop. I really like the way it looks and just to think of the great man there and writing these stories thrills me.

Yes, it is from "The Ladybird". A line from when the Count refers to Lady Daphne as a wildcat. He does it quite frequently throughout the novella.

[Virgil]

And the use of yellow and gold comes up a lot beyond this point. I also found it interesting how The Princess is later descirbed as yearing something fleecy

Interesting. You ladies are much more sensitive to the color images than I am. I never really picked up on Lawrence's use of color, even when I was hot and heavy on my thesis. There is definitely something to his use of colors in various stories and novels.


I loved the image of the unsinged eagle and I also thought the pale blue of the egg-like desert was interesting. And I liked the play of dark coming into this scene. In contrast to above which was bright and sunny, here the darkness seems to be creeping in more.

I noticed as well some of these allusions turn up later within this section. The use of pale blue, and there is something else further down that is descirbed as being egg like in shape. Though I am not sure what it is intended to mean. I found it interesting.
Interesting. I should look at that closer.



And she just had a fixed desire to go over the brim of the mountains, to look into the inner chaos of the Rockies.
This seemed to be very symbolic to me. Her desire to want to look into the "inner chaos" while she is determined and assured of wishing to go off with Romero. She feels a bound and a kinship with him and yet she does not truly know what it is she wants or intends, she is at a conflict with herself. She does not truly see herself as being married to Romero and yet his demon seems to draw her own toward him.
Yes, I think that is one of the keys to the story, especially when she gets to the brim and looks over. It's coming soon.

[Janine]

I am kind of mortified. I could have sworn I wrote a post about the colors to Dark Muse's post and now I can't find it here. How could that be? Well, maybe I thinking of my post on the last page to you, Virgil; help me out here (confused) did you read this one #2576? I did think I remarked on the colors after Dark Muse sited the examples in her post. I liked that post very much, DM and agree with all you say.


Interesting. You ladies are much more sensitive to the color images than I am. I never really picked up on Lawrence's use of color, even when I was hot and heavy on my thesis. There is definitely something to his use of colors in various stories and novels.

Haha...maybe you are 'color-blind.' :lol:

Definitely something to the use of the colors to symbolism L's ideas. I found some photos of NM around the ranch and also some stunning photos of NM on the internet. One shows a whole field of yellow and the blue mountains as L describes, also the birch or aspen trees. I will upload to Photobucket and post here later today, hopefully. I think you will find them interesting. One picture near the area which Lawrence lived shows a gap or gorge as I believe he indicated. See what you all think. You will like the photos. I have Lawrence's cabin right now as my desktop photo - interesting to think of him sitting in that cabin and writing this story.


Yes, I think that is one of the keys to the story, especially when she gets to the brim and looks over. It's coming soon.

I agree.


Yes, it is from "The Ladybird". A line from when the Count refers to Lady Daphne as a wildcat. He does it quite frequently throughout the novella.

limajean, thanks for the information. Lady Daphne is based on a true life person, I believe. Most of L's characters are. I will look up who he based this character on. I have many reference books. Also, the one book will tell what he was doing at the time he wrote that novel. Sometimes it shows his diary or letter entries and what he was thinking at the time.

[Virgil]

I am kind of mortified. I could have sworn I wrote a post about the colors to Dark Muse's post and now I can't find it here. How could that be? Well, maybe I thinking of my post on the last page to you, Virgil; help me out here (confused) did you read this one #2576? I did think I remarked on the colors after Dark Muse sited the examples in her post. I liked that post very much, DM and agree with all you say.

No, you're not crazy. You did mention it and I did say "you ladies," trying to imply both of you. I didn't physically quote you though.


Haha...maybe you are 'color-blind.' :lol:
Hahaha, perhaps so in a reading sort of way. :D

[Janine]

No, you're not crazy. You did mention it and I did say "you ladies," trying to imply both of you. I didn't physically quote you though.
..well, I don't know...you are so busy building up those posts in your profile page....and you don't want me gaining on you;)...I thought maybe you missed my post. It was the post about the scenery descriptions in relation to color and symbolism for L.


Hahaha, perhaps so in a reading sort of way. :D

Haha...seems to be the case....:lol:

I found some good New Mexico photos. I was too tired out last night, to post these. Thought it would be interesting to see who the story was based on and where she lived in NM; where L lived and where he may have written this story...also the surrounding countryside.

Dorothy Brett's House
http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/DorothyBrettsHouse.jpg

About Brett and Cabin
http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/BrettCabin.jpg

Dorothy Brett herself at Mabel Dodge Luhan's House
http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/DorothyBrettatMabelDodgeLuhansHouse.jpg

Painting of "Lawrence" by Dorothy Brett
http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/PaintingofLawrencebyDorothyBrett.gif

Another by Brett - "The Order of the Day"
http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/Brett_TheOrderoftheDay.jpg

Some scenes around the surrounding areas of the Lawrence ranch and Taos, NM.
http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/NewMexicoMountains.jpg

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/PecosWildernessnearBeattiCabin.jpg

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/PecosWildernessnearBeattiCabin2.jpg

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/PecosWildernessnearBeattiCabin3.jpg

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/NMMountains8.jpg

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/NMMountains2.jpg

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/NMMountains.jpg

road to Lawrence's Rancharea (not sure what that structure is on the left but looks more modern)
http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/road_LawrenceRancharea.jpg

The actual Lawrence cabin
http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/cabin_Lawrence.jpg

As you travel north from Santa Fe
http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/AsyoutravelnorthfromSantaFethesmoky.jpg

I found most of these on a Lawrence site so I would imagine these were the areas he wrote about and ventured into the wilderness riding his own horse, who he mentions often in his letters, etc.

[Dark Muse]

I love the photos

[Janine]

I love the photos

Thanks, Dark Muse, was worth my effort. NM looks so beautiful I think I would like to move there. One can actually stay or could stay a number of years back in the cabin. I read this account of one guy and his wife staying there and they thought they felt the ghost of L...I knew you would love this story. I wish I had my scanner running; I would copy it for all to read - such an interesting night spent there. I feel his spirit is indeed in that house. It looks like a house Lawrence would take to. I had all these in a file somewhere on a zip disc or regular disc and could not find them; so I had to dig around the net and found the site again. Cool site. Glad you enjoyed them. I think it gives us a better sense now of the journey - Lawrence had a great sense of 'place'. The novel I am reading is about that.

[Virgil]

Some scenes around the surrounding areas of the Lawrence ranch and Taos, NM.
http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/NewMexicoMountains.jpg

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/PecosWildernessnearBeattiCabin.jpg

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/PecosWildernessnearBeattiCabin2.jpg

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/PecosWildernessnearBeattiCabin3.jpg

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/NMMountains8.jpg


Wow, great photos Janine. That was a visual aid to the story. :) I highlighted the above picutes beacuse they do emphasize the yellows that Lawrence mentions. Perhaps there isn't an symblism at all to the yellow but merely a reflection of the reality of the scene.

[Janine]

Virgil, I thought the same thing, when I saw the photos, about the color yellow, the bluish mountains, also; but Lawrence does emphasis these elements quite often in his description; therefore knowing something about Lawrence, I think he would take the color and observe it, but go beyond that and have it represent something deeper, if only a mood. I recall in "Lady Chatterly's Lover" she went to the woods to see the 'yellow' daffodils, behind the keeper's cottage. I believe her husband's nurse had suggested it, saying there was such a show of 'yellow' flowers there, she should see them. I know that was a prominent thing, in the story and feel it did indeed possess symbolism....she was going towards the light, the sun....as always Lawrence, himself, was seeking light and warmth throughout his life. I think he took the yellow field to mean the positive/warmth and the bluish cold mountains to mean the negative/cold...threatening aspects and forshadowing....afterall, in the dead of the cold night she is cold/shivering and lets Romero come into her bed, but then she rejects him...actually, her rejection comes in the morning, when there would be sunlight. Could the mountains represent the mystery of the man/the 'phallic mystery' in the night? Could the light represent the return to reality or reality as she knew it? Beyond that, I am not sure what they could respresent. Any ideas yourself?

This is an edit about the photos I posted: Virgil, I checked a map of NM and Taos is situated in the north; also Santa Fe is not far from Taos. This part of the state would have been the part that Lawrence was familiar with. The southern regions are more dessert and barren. The north is more mountainous and woodsy, I believe.

[Janine]

Is everyone lost here? Can we resume this discussion on Monday; what do you think? Hey, Virgil, Dark Muse, Quark, etc...where are you? Just checking the statis for now.

[Virgil]

I've completely forgotten. :blush: I'll post another section today.

[Janine]

I've completely forgotten. :blush: I'll post another section today.

haha...Virgil, you always come when I call you. I thought you had forgotten. Take your time, just wanted to remind you of the thread. Monday would be fine. Let everyone have their extended holiday.

[Quark]

Hey, Virgil, Dark Muse, Quark, etc...where are you?

We're here, but not here. I've been checking in every once and awhile, but haven't been able to post until now. I was visiting family and friends over Christmas and New Years and couldn't find enough time to say anything substantial about the story--not that I do even when there is time, but you know what I mean.

[Janine]

We're here, but not here. I've been checking in every once and awhile, but haven't been able to post until now. I was visiting family and friends over Christmas and New Years and couldn't find enough time to say anything substantial about the story--not that I do even when there is time, but you know what I mean.

That is ok, even your simplist comments are fine now and then. :lol:I didn't meant imply that were 'simple' ;)..haha....

So, Quark, how was your holidays with family and friends. I hope you had a relaxing time off from work and school.

[Quark]

That is ok, even your simplist comments are fine now

Good, the last thing I need is more work right now. I have a new class to teach semester, and I'm a little buried with preperations.


So, Quark, how was your holidays with family and friends.

Oh, warm and fuzzy as usual. What about you? Did all your decorating come off without a hitch?

[Janine]

Good, the last thing I need is more work right now. I have a new class to teach semester, and I'm a little buried with preperations.

I can well understand that. Will we do another Chekhov a few months from now then? That would be fine with me. I need a rest right now in a dire way. BTW, did you get to listen to any of the CD's I send you? "In the Ravine" I thought was quite good but I can't really take that on this month.


Oh, warm and fuzzy as usual. What about you? Did all your decorating come off without a hitch?

Glad to hear it. No, actually we did no decorating here. We had huge family crisis and we have problems to solve. It just was sort of a lost Christmas, but hey, there is always next year, right? We did go to my son's and saw the baby most of Christmas day. That part was uplifting. Dinner was nice, too.

[Virgil]

Ready for the next section. Here it is.


When they were alone, Romero turned and looked at her curiously, in a way she could not understand, with such a hard glint in his eyes. And for the first time she wondered if she was rash.

"I hope you don't mind going alone with me," she said.

"If you want it," he replied.

They emerged at the foot of the great bare slope of rocky summit, where dead spruce trees stood sparse and bristling like bristles on a grey dead hog. Romero said the Mexicans, twenty years back, had fired the mountains, to drive out the whites. This grey concave slope of summit was corpse-like.

The trail was almost invisible. Romero watched for the trees which the Forest Service had blazed. And they climbed the stark corpse slope, among dead spruce, fallen and ash-grey, into the wind. The wind came rushing from the west, up the funnel of the canyon, from the desert. And there was the desert, like a vast mirage tilting slowly upwards towards the west, immense and pallid, away beyond the funnel of the canyon. The Princess could hardly look.

For an hour their horses rushed the slope, hastening with a great working of the haunches upwards, and halting to breathe, scrambling again, and rowing their way up length by length, on the livid, slanting wall. While the wind blew like some vast machine.

After an hour they were working their way on the incline, no longer forcing straight up. All was grey and dead around them; the horses picked their way over the silver-grey corpses of the spruce. But they were near the top, near the ridge.

Even the horses made a rush for the last bit. They had worked round to a scrap of spruce forest near the very top. They hurried in, out of the huge, monstrous, mechanical wind, that whistled inhumanly and was palely cold. So, stepping through the dark screen of trees, they emerged over the crest.

In front now was nothing but mountains, ponderous, massive, down-sitting mountains, in a huge and intricate knot, empty of life or soul. Under the bristling black feathers of spruce near-by lay patches of white snow. The lifeless valleys were concaves of rock and spruce, the rounded summits and the hog-backed summits of grey rock crowded one behind the other like some monstrous herd in arrest.

It frightened the Princess, it was so inhuman. She had not thought it could be so inhuman, so, as it were, anti-life. And yet now one of her desires was fulfilled. She had seen it, the massive, gruesome, repellent core of the Rockies. She saw it there beneath her eyes, in its gigantic, heavy gruesomeness.

And she wanted to go back. At this moment she wanted to turn back. She had looked down into the intestinal knot of these mountains. She was frightened. She wanted to go back.

But Romero was riding on, on the lee side of the spruce forest, above the concaves of the inner mountains. He turned round to her and pointed at the slope with a dark hand.

"Here a miner has been trying for gold," he said. It was a grey scratched-out heap near a hole--like a great badger hole. And it looked quite fresh.

"Quite lately?" said the Princess.

"No, long ago--twenty, thirty years." He had reined in his horse and was looking at the mountains. "Look!" he said. "There goes the Forest Service trail--along those ridges, on the top, way over there till it comes to Lucytown, where is the Goverment road. We go down there--no trail--see behind that mountain--you see the top, no trees, and some grass?"

His arm was lifted, his brown hand pointing, his dark eyes piercing into the distance, as he sat on his black horse twisting round to her. Strange and ominous, only the demon of himself, he seemed to her. She was dazed and a little sick, at that height, and she could not see any more. Only she saw an eagle turning in the air beyond, and the light from the west showed the pattern on him underneath.

"Shall I ever be able to go so far?" asked the Princess faintly, petulantly.

"Oh yes! All easy now. No more hard places."

They worked along the ridge, up and down, keeping on the lee side, the inner side, in the dark shadow. It was cold. Then the trail laddered up again, and they emerged on a narrow ridge-track, with the mountain slipping away enormously on either side. The Princess was afraid. For one moment she looked out, and saw the desert, the desert ridges, more desert, more blue ridges, shining pale and very vast, far below, vastly palely tilting to the western horizon. It was ethereal and terrifying in its gleaming, pale, half-burnished immensity, tilted at the west. She could not bear it. To the left was the ponderous, involved mass of mountains all kneeling heavily.

She closed her eyes and let her consciousness evaporate away. The mare followed the trail. So on and on, in the wind again.

They turned their backs to the wind, facing inwards to the mountains. She thought they had left the trail; it was quite invisible.

"No," he said, lifting his hand and pointing. "Don't you see the blazed trees?"

And making an effort of consciousness, she was able to perceive on a pale-grey dead spruce stem the old marks where an axe had chipped a piece away. But with the height, the cold, the wind, her brain was numb.

They turned again and began to descend; he told her they had left the trail. The horses slithered in the loose stones, picking their way downward. It was afternoon, the sun stood obtrusive and gleaming in the lower heavens--about four o'clock. The horses went steadily, slowly, but obstinately onwards. The air was getting colder. They were in among the lumpish peaks and steep concave valleys. She was barely conscious at all of Romero.

He dismounted and came to help her from her saddle. She tottered, but would not betray her feebleness.

"We must slide down here," he said. "I can lead the horses."

They were on a ridge, and facing a steep bare slope of pallid, tawny mountain grass on which the western sun shone full. It was steep and concave. The Princess felt she might start slipping, and go down like a toboggan into the great hollow.

But she pulled herself together. Her eye blazed up again with excitement and determination. A wind rushed past her; she could hear the shriek of spruce trees far below. Bright spots came on her cheeks as her hair blew across. She looked a wild, fairy-like little thing.

"No," she said. "I will take my horse."

"Then mind she doesn't slip down on top of you," said Romero. And away he went, nimbly dropping down the pale, steep incline, making from rock to rock, down the grass, and following any little slanting groove. His horse hopped and slithered after him, and sometimes stopped dead, with forefeet pressed back, refusing to go farther. He, below his horse, looked up and pulled the reins gently, and encouraged the creature. Then the horse once more dropped his forefeet with a jerk, and the descent continued.

The Princess set off in blind, reckless pursuit, tottering and yet nimble. And Romero, looking constantly back to see how she was faring, saw her fluttering down like some queer little bird, her orange breeches twinkling like the legs of some duck, and her head, tied in the blue and buff kerchief, bound round and round like the head of some blue-topped bird. The sorrel mare rocked and slipped behind her. But down came the Princess in a reckless intensity, a tiny, vivid spot on the great hollow flank of the tawny mountain. So tiny! Tiny as a frail bird's egg. It made Romero's mind go blank with wonder.

But they had to get down, out of that cold and dragging wind. The spruce trees stood below, where a tiny stream emerged in stones. Away plunged Romero, zigzagging down. And away behind, up the slope, fluttered the tiny, bright-coloured Princess, holding the end of the long reins, and leading the lumbering, four-footed, sliding mare.

I guess there are three points I'd like to make on this section.

1. We see Romero say these words again:

When they were alone, Romero turned and looked at her curiously, in a way she could not understand, with such a hard glint in his eyes. And for the first time she wondered if she was rash.

"I hope you don't mind going alone with me," she said.

"If you want it," he replied.
:lol: I get a kick out of that. I would love to see this in a video version. Notice it's only the first time she finally feels the inpropriety of the situation. She was naive, and still is as we shall see.

2. The landscape suddenly is associated with death: "This grey concave slope of summit was corpse-like." and

The trail was almost invisible. Romero watched for the trees which the Forest Service had blazed. And they climbed the stark corpse slope, among dead spruce, fallen and ash-grey, into the wind. The wind came rushing from the west, up the funnel of the canyon, from the desert. And there was the desert, like a vast mirage tilting slowly upwards towards the west, immense and pallid, away beyond the funnel of the canyon. The Princess could hardly look.
This is very interesting because I think it associates with my point number three, which I'll make here.

3. I think this is the most important part of the story, when they reach the top of that ridge:

In front now was nothing but mountains, ponderous, massive, down-sitting mountains, in a huge and intricate knot, empty of life or soul. Under the bristling black feathers of spruce near-by lay patches of white snow. The lifeless valleys were concaves of rock and spruce, the rounded summits and the hog-backed summits of grey rock crowded one behind the other like some monstrous herd in arrest.
I think she is looking into the heart of eternity, " a huge, intricate knot." A knot I think symbolizes infinity and the mystery of ununderstandable deism, a deism of nature and of whatever deity runs through it. And her reaction is...

It frightened the Princess, it was so inhuman. She had not thought it could be so inhuman, so, as it were, anti-life. And yet now one of her desires was fulfilled. She had seen it, the massive, gruesome, repellent core of the Rockies. She saw it there beneath her eyes, in its gigantic, heavy gruesomeness.
Notice the several layers of life we have seen in this story so far. We have seen Dollie, a woman witha strong will, Romero, a man who does not seem to exert his will, we have seen their horses, whch are animals that bend their will to people's will, we have seen those yellow flowers that have no will other than to exist, and now we see infinte nature with a deism with no will, actually a vacuum of will. Dollie cannot understand this mystery. Actually even the horses cannot stand the mystery:

Even the horses made a rush for the last bit. They had worked round to a scrap of spruce forest near the very top. They hurried in, out of the huge, monstrous, mechanical wind, that whistled inhumanly and was palely cold. So, stepping through the dark screen of trees, they emerged over the crest.
And when she gets to the crest she repels from the mystery:

In front now was nothing but mountains, ponderous, massive, down-sitting mountains, in a huge and intricate knot, empty of life or soul. Under the bristling black feathers of spruce near-by lay patches of white snow. The lifeless valleys were concaves of rock and spruce, the rounded summits and the hog-backed summits of grey rock crowded one behind the other like some monstrous herd in arrest.

It frightened the Princess, it was so inhuman. She had not thought it could be so inhuman, so, as it were, anti-life. And yet now one of her desires was fulfilled. She had seen it, the massive, gruesome, repellent core of the Rockies. She saw it there beneath her eyes, in its gigantic, heavy gruesomeness.

And she wanted to go back. At this moment she wanted to turn back. She had looked down into the intestinal knot of these mountains. She was frightened. She wanted to go back.

She has been naive. All she wants to do is see nature, but when the spiritual myserty of it is in front of her, she panics and wants to run away from it. Notice how comfortable Romero is with it.

But Romero was riding on, on the lee side of the spruce forest, above the concaves of the inner mountains. He turned round to her and pointed at the slope with a dark hand.

"Here a miner has been trying for gold," he said. It was a grey scratched-out heap near a hole--like a great badger hole. And it looked quite fresh.

"Quite lately?" said the Princess.

"No, long ago--twenty, thirty years." He had reined in his horse and was looking at the mountains. "Look!" he said. "There goes the Forest Service trail--along those ridges, on the top, way over there till it comes to Lucytown, where is the Goverment road. We go down there--no trail--see behind that mountain--you see the top, no trees, and some grass?"
"Not long ago--twenty, thirty years." What's 20 or 30 years when one is comfortable with eternity.

And finally she reaches the religious climax of the moment:

They worked along the ridge, up and down, keeping on the lee side, the inner side, in the dark shadow. It was cold. Then the trail laddered up again, and they emerged on a narrow ridge-track, with the mountain slipping away enormously on either side. The Princess was afraid. For one moment she looked out, and saw the desert, the desert ridges, more desert, more blue ridges, shining pale and very vast, far below, vastly palely tilting to the western horizon. It was ethereal and terrifying in its gleaming, pale, half-burnished immensity, tilted at the west. She could not bear it. To the left was the ponderous, involved mass of mountains all kneeling heavily.

She closed her eyes and let her consciousness evaporate away. The mare followed the trail. So on and on, in the wind again.

They turned their backs to the wind, facing inwards to the mountains. She thought they had left the trail; it was quite invisible.

"No," he said, lifting his hand and pointing. "Don't you see the blazed trees?"

And making an effort of consciousness, she was able to perceive on a pale-grey dead spruce stem the old marks where an axe had chipped a piece away. But with the height, the cold, the wind, her brain was numb.
Notice the mountains are in a "kneeling" position, a religious image. And she loses consciousness, perhaps almost becoming like the flowers, a lack of will. But she cannot handle it and will experience it, a moment of transfiguration. And she almost has that transifguration:

But she pulled herself together. Her eye blazed up again with excitement and determination. A wind rushed past her; she could hear the shriek of spruce trees far below. Bright spots came on her cheeks as her hair blew across. She looked a wild, fairy-like little thing.
That is almost a transfiguration (spots across her face and the look of a wild fairy), but in the next section (that I haven't posted yet) she will pull back from it.

[Janine]

I read this all last night but was too tired to answer it. I guess we pretty much agree on all that you wrote here but maybe you are a tiny bit more set on her naivity than I am. I do however, agree she got to a point when she realised she had made the wrong decision to go and wanted to turn back or regretted it or got scared. I don't think one would have to be totally naive to feel that way but she certainly was naive in that she still was virginal, so she did not have a realistic notion of what she was in for, nor could she handle it at all.


Ready for the next section. Here it is.

I guess there are three points I'd like to make on this section.


1. We see Romero say these words again:

:lol: I get a kick out of that. I would love to see this in a video version. Notice it's only the first time she finally feels the inpropriety of the situation. She was naive, and still is as we shall see.

:lol: You are starting to sound like me. It is a shame they didn't make this one into a production. It would have been real interesting I think.
Anyway, I would agree with your assessment here.


2. The landscape suddenly is associated with death: "This grey concave slope of summit was corpse-like." and

This is very interesting because I think it associates with my point number three, which I'll make here.

Yes, I agree and I think this is truly powerful and beautiful writing on L's part. The description of the mountains is truly awesome. They do evoke this feeling of a corpse, cold death.


3. I think this is the most important part of the story, when they reach the top of that ridge:

I think she is looking into the heart of eternity, " a huge, intricate knot." A knot I think symbolizes infinity and the mystery of ununderstandable deism, a deism of nature and of whatever deity runs through it. And her reaction is...

Yes, that is excellent and a good observation on your part. I like that part about a "huge, intricate knot"...what an intriguing visual symbol. So true knots do symbolize infinity and mystery. Don't they also suggest the union of a man and woman? The Princess rejects that idea - she does not desire the true union or the transfiguration it would bring to her life. I think this knot could be viewed in many perspectives here.


Notice the several layers of life we have seen in this story so far. We have seen Dollie, a woman witha strong will, Romero, a man who does not seem to exert his will, we have seen their horses, whch are animals that bend their will to people's will, we have seen those yellow flowers that have no will other than to exist, and now we see infinte nature with a deism with no will, actually a vacuum of will. Dollie cannot understand this mystery. Actually even the horses cannot stand the mystery:

Yes, 'will' is a big thing here and with subsequent works from this period for Lawrence. "Dollie cannot understand this mystery" - that is absolutely true - she can't comprehend it.


And when she gets to the crest she repels from the mystery:

She has been naive. All she wants to do is see nature, but when the spiritual myserty of it is in front of her, she panics and wants to run away from it. Notice how comfortable Romero is with it.

Yes, they are quite opposites in demeanor and attitude here. 'Panic' is a good word. After that also I think she just shuts down any feeling she may have had towards Romero. He begins to show his will over her now. He is in his own turf; she can't touch him here - he is one with nature.


"Not long ago--twenty, thirty years." What's 20 or 30 years when one is comfortable with eternity.

That is an interesting quote.


And finally she reaches the religious climax of the moment:

Notice the mountains are in a "kneeling" position, a religious image. And she loses consciousness, perhaps almost becoming like the flowers, a lack of will. But she cannot handle it and will experience it, a moment of transfiguration. And she almost has that transifguration:

Hadn't noticed that 'kneeling' but I may have and forgotten it. That is good. So you do think she has a 'moment of transfiguration' when she lacks 'will'?


That is almost a transfiguration (spots across her face and the look of a wild fairy), but in the next section (that I haven't posted yet) she will pull back from it.

I agree. She retreats within herself; she pulls back from embracing it.

[Dark Muse]

I do not know if I have much I can add to Virgil's comments. I was struck by how much bleaker the scene is starting to become now that she is going off alone to her fate with Romero. Compared to how it was before. It had started out as a rather pleasant trip winding through the canyon, but after the point of the accident of Miss Cummins, it is becoming much more ominous.

Haha, almost like in a horror story, when a family sets out on a trip together, and then their car breaks down, and everything goes bad from there.

But this passage really jumped out at me.


It frightened the Princess, it was so inhuman. She had not thought it could be so inhuman, so, as it were, anti-life. And yet now one of her desires was fulfilled. She had seen it, the massive, gruesome, repellent core of the Rockies. She saw it there beneath her eyes, in its gigantic, heavy gruesomeness.

It seems to be the sum of The Princess' relations with Romero. The way she felt after the first time they were together, when she at first consented to it. How she was not moved by the experience, and it left her without desire to experience it again, she was unfulfilled by it.


And she wanted to go back. At this moment she wanted to turn back. She had looked down into the intestinal knot of these mountains. She was frightened. She wanted to go back

Now that she has reached the point of no-return so to speak, she no longer wants to continue. This is another reflection on her relations with Romero, after it was done, she wished it could be undone. She no longer wanted it, once she discovered just what it was.


The Princess set off in blind, reckless pursuit, tottering and yet nimble. And Romero, looking constantly back to see how she was faring, saw her fluttering down like some queer little bird, her orange breeches twinkling like the legs of some duck, and her head, tied in the blue and buff kerchief, bound round and round like the head of some blue-topped bird. The sorrel mare rocked and slipped behind her. But down came the Princess in a reckless intensity, a tiny, vivid spot on the great hollow flank of the tawny mountain. So tiny! Tiny as a frail bird's egg. It made Romero's mind go blank with wonder.

I loved this passage, and I think it does personify the Princess's actions to this point. Her going off with Romero, and her initial attraction or draw to him, had all been very reckless. She never really gave any forward thought to anything she did, but acted upon her initial whims and let them carry her.

[Janine]

I do not know if I have much I can add to Virgil's comments. I was struck by how much bleaker the scene is starting to become now that she is going off alone to her fate with Romero. Compared to how it was before. It had started out as a rather pleasant trip winding through the canyon, but after the point of the accident of Miss Cummins, it is becoming much more ominous. First time I read this story I felt exactly the same way when they got to these more bleak scenes; from then on things seemed darker and more cold, ominous. I agree with all the rest you wrote.


Haha, almost like in a horror story, when a family sets out on a trip together, and then their car breaks down, and everything goes bad from there.
Yes, that is a good one, Dark Muse! Maybe Lawrence missed his calling and would have been good at horror, as well.


But this passage really jumped out at me.

It seems to be the sum of The Princess' relations with Romero. The way she felt after the first time they were together, when she at first consented to it. How she was not moved by the experience, and it left her without desire to experience it again, she was unfulfilled by it.

I totally agree with you here. I wonder too if she was more than just desireless but really repulsed by both - the cold hard mountains and by the man's phallis; the whole act of sex itself.


Now that she has reached the point of no-return so to speak, she no longer wants to continue. This is another reflection on her relations with Romero, after it was done, she wished it could be undone. She no longer wanted it, once she discovered just what it was.

Right. It seemed her pursuit mattered more to her than actually getting the experiences. She was quite determined and could not be diverted from her purpose to go.


I loved this passage, and I think it does personify the Princess's actions to this point. Her going off with Romero, and her initial attraction or draw to him, had all been very reckless. She never really gave any forward thought to anything she did, but acted upon her initial whims and let them carry her.

Definitely, 'reckless' and without real thought on the possible and probable consequences. Many people act this way, compulsively and so they don't realise the price they will pay in the end. For her, it was definitely a whim.

[Virgil]

I read this all last night but was too tired to answer it. I guess we pretty much agree on all that you wrote here but maybe you are a tiny bit more set on her naivity than I am. I do however, agree she got to a point when she realised she had made the wrong decision to go and wanted to turn back or regretted it or got scared. I don't think one would have to be totally naive to feel that way but she certainly was naive in that she still was virginal, so she did not have a realistic notion of what she was in for, nor could she handle it at all.

I think the problem lies with Lawrence. I don't think Lawrence was clear within himself on this story. What I think happened was that he intuitively would have liked Dollie to be transfigured, but his linking her with Brett (the person the character is based on) made him ambivilent and so he mixed it up somewhat. Plus I don't think Lawrence ever truely figured out how to make a character fail in an attempt for transfiguration. His great works all have characters reach a transfiguration or at least an epiphany. These stories like this I think fall short of being great. One should compare this story with "The Woman Who Rode Away" and see how Lawrence handles that woman's journey of events.


:lol: You are starting to sound like me. It is a shame they didn't make this one into a production. It would have been real interesting I think.
Anyway, I would agree with your assessment here.
;) This story would make a great short film. It's so visual.


Yes, that is excellent and a good observation on your part. I like that part about a "huge, intricate knot"...what an intriguing visual symbol. So true knots do symbolize infinity and mystery. Don't they also suggest the union of a man and woman? The Princess rejects that idea - she does not desire the true union or the transfiguration it would bring to her life. I think this knot could be viewed in many perspectives here.
The knot is a fabulous symbol. Too bad Lawrence doesn't use it elsewhere, at least that I'm aware of. If you ever find Lawrenceusing the knot symbol somewhere, please point it out to me, I would be very interested. It's so good I may have to steal it one day. ;)


Hadn't noticed that 'kneeling' but I may have and forgotten it. That is good. So you do think she has a 'moment of transfiguration' when she lacks 'will'?
This is where I think Lawrence fails. I don't think he wants her to have a transfiguration, but he needs to have her come close to one and retract. It's too fine a balance that i don't think Lawrence successfully caries off. just my opinion.


I do not know if I have much I can add to Virgil's comments. I was struck by how much bleaker the scene is starting to become now that she is going off alone to her fate with Romero. Compared to how it was before. It had started out as a rather pleasant trip winding through the canyon, but after the point of the accident of Miss Cummins, it is becoming much more ominous.

Actually I had never picked that up before until I posted this section. I didn't realize the corpse and dying around them, even though i must have read this story ten times. It's amazing what we pick up while going through a story tis way. :)


Haha, almost like in a horror story, when a family sets out on a trip together, and then their car breaks down, and everything goes bad from there.
That's a fabulous analogy. You're right. One day Muse you have to read "The Woman Who Rode Away." Even more of a horror story. Almost something Poe could have written.


It seems to be the sum of The Princess' relations with Romero. The way she felt after the first time they were together, when she at first consented to it. How she was not moved by the experience, and it left her without desire to experience it again, she was unfulfilled by it.
Yes that is exactly right, and I think your word "unfulfilled" is the perfect word, the one I think Lawrence would have used.


I loved this passage, and I think it does personify the Princess's actions to this point. Her going off with Romero, and her initial attraction or draw to him, had all been very reckless. She never really gave any forward thought to anything she did, but acted upon her initial whims and let them carry her.
Lots of excellent passages. I liked that one too. :)

[Dark Muse]

That's a fabulous analogy. You're right. One day Muse you have to read "The Woman Who Rode Away." Even more of a horror story. Almost something Poe could have written.

I will have to see if that one is within one of the volumes of stories I have


Lots of excellent passages. I liked that one too. :)

Yes, there were so many wonderful and vivid passages, full of some really intersting words and discriptions, and all so symbolic of Romero and the Princess. This was a very well crafted story.

I too did not pick up how much the physical enviroment reflected on the events within the story until reviewing it over.

[Janine]

See just my point, in taking it slowly and dissecting a story - one notices so much more. I am just a hopeless story dissector! :lol:

Will answer the rest tomorrow...too tired out now.

[Virgil]

See just my point, in taking it slowly and dissecting a story - one notices so much more. I am just a hopeless story dissector! :lol:


Yes, you're quite right Janine. I admit it now. :) It does take forever, but it's worth it.

[Janine]

Yes, you're quite right Janine. I admit it now. :) It does take forever, but it's worth it.

Finally agree....OK! :D

[Quark]

Looking over the previous posts, I don't think I have much to add. You guys have documented the psychodrama pretty well here. The princess is struggling to sate her curiosity while simultaneously keeping distance. Given how much Lawrence we've all read, I guess it goes without saying what L would think of this.

Oh, and Janine I did listen to the CDs. I can see why you were opting for "The Trousseau" earlier in the C thread. Brannagh does a great narration for that story.

[Janine]

Looking over the previous posts, I don't think I have much to add. You guys have documented the psychodrama pretty well here. The princess is struggling to sate her curiosity while simultaneously keeping distance. Given how much Lawrence we've all read, I guess it goes without saying what L would think of this.

Thanks, Quark, that is quite complimentary for all of us. We been disecting this one thoroughly. We also took more time to do so, which is good. It was a long story.

Yes, I well know what Lawrence would think of Dolly, but then again, he was friends with the real woman the story was based on. I think although there existed tension between she and his wife Frieda, L still got on ok with her as a friend, in the end. That was an odd group out there in New Mexico.


Oh, and Janine I did listen to the CDs. I can see why you were opting for "The Trousseau" earlier in the C thread. Brannagh does a great narration for that story.

Oh, glad you liked them and especially that one. I thought that was the very best. I could just imagine that house and approaching that yard. I liked his narration very well, too. I like all his narrations that I own. Only one I would complain about is the DVD of 'Midsummer Night's Dream'. but that is not his fault. The orchestra is louder than his recitations between. I have to keep adjusting the volumes. That was an engineering error, I am sure and people on Amazon, also complained about it. Maybe we can discuss 'The Trousseau' in the C thread; what do you think? I liked them all; I should relisten to them all again soon. I enjoy these audiofiles so much. I am sending the same set to Virgil tomorrow. He injoys audiobooks, too.

[Quark]

Yes, I well know what Lawrence would think of Dolly, but then again, he was friends with the real woman the story was based on. I think although there existed tension between she and his wife Frieda, L still got on ok with her as a friend, in the end. That was an odd group out there in New Mexico.

I didn't know she was based on Frieda. Given the little I know about her, I suppose that makes sense.


Maybe we can discuss 'The Trousseau' in the C thread

I don't think we're going to be discussing any stories in the C thread for a while. School will start again soon, and I probably won't be able to try another story until I hit my stride somewhere mid-semester.

[Janine]

I didn't know she was based on Frieda. Given the little I know about her, I suppose that makes sense.

No, you read me wrong; Dolly is based on Dorothy Brett; go back a page or so and you can see a photo of her when she was young. She and L's wife, Freida, clashed bigtime.


I don't think we're going to be discussing any stories in the C thread for a while. School will start again soon, and I probably won't be able to try another story until I hit my stride somewhere mid-semester.

That's ok, Quark, whenever you are ready. Maybe I will post some Chekhov photos or something in there in the meantime just to keep the thread active. I also saw a video on Youtube with excerpts from 'Ivanov' (even though that is a play) and an interesting interview segment on the play in the West End, London. I can post that link. Remember I posted the poster; Branagh plays Ivanov?

[Quark]

No, you read me wrong; Dolly is based on Dorothy Brett; go back a page or so and you can see a photo of her when she was young.

Ah, I see now.


Maybe I will post some Chekhov photos or something in there in the meantime just to keep the thread active. I also saw a video on Youtube with excerpts from 'Ivanov' (even though that is a play) and an interesting interview segment on the play in the West End, London. I can post that link. Remember I posted the poster; Branagh plays Ivanov?

Yeah, some multimedia in that thread would be good. I'm always trying to introduce photos, paintings, and whatnot to break things up a bit.

[Virgil]

You guys must be ready for the next section. I'll post tonight. :)

[Janine]

Ah, I see now.

Good, then you saw the photos....


Yeah, some multimedia in that thread would be good. I'm always trying to introduce photos, paintings, and whatnot to break things up a bit.

Great, Quark, then I will come up with somethings this month and next, just to keep the thread active. I love pictures to inhance the site, too. That adds interest. You always do a good job posting them. Maybe you can add some from now and then, in your slow periods, between teaching and schooling.

Yes, Virgil, I think we are ready for the next section,... whenever is fine...

[Janine]

posted twice by accident...oops...don't mind me...

[Janine]

Hey...Virgil, did you forget about the story again? I was hoping we could get to the next section soon.

[Virgil]

:blush: :blush: Yeah I did. Ok hold on. In a few hours.

[Janine]

:blush: :blush: Yeah I did. Ok hold on. In a few hours.

You sure have been forgetful this month....:rolleyes:

[Virgil]

Ok, the senile one is finally going to post the next section. :D


At last they were down. Romero sat in the sun, below the wind, beside some squaw-berry bushes. The Princess came near, the colour flaming in her cheeks, her eyes dark blue, much darker than the kerchief on her head, and glowing unnaturally.

"We make it," said Romero.

"Yes," said the Princess, dropping the reins and subsiding on to the grass, unable to speak, unable to think.

But, thank heaven, they were out of the wind and in the sun.

In a few minutes her consciousness and her control began to come back. She drank a little water. Romero was attending to the saddles. Then they set off again, leading the horses still a little farther down the tiny stream-bed. Then they could mount.

They rode down a bank and into a valley grove dense with aspens. Winding through the thin, crowding, pale-smooth stems, the sun shone flickering beyond them, and the disc-like aspen leaves, waving queer mechanical signals, seemed to be splashing the gold light before her eyes. She rode on in a splashing dazzle of gold.

Then they entered shadow and the dark, resinous spruce trees. The fierce boughs always wanted to sweep her off her horse. She had to twist and squirm past.

But there was a semblance of an old trail. And all at once they emerged in the sun on the edge of the spruce grove, and there was a little cabin, and the bottom of a small, naked valley with grey rock and heaps of stones, and a round pool of intense green water, dark green. The sun was just about to leave it.

Indeed, as she stood, the shadow came over the cabin and over herself; they were in the lower gloom, a twilight. Above, the heights still blazed.

It was a little hole of a cabin, near the spruce trees, with an earthen floor and an unhinged door. There was a wooden bed-bunk, three old sawn-off log-lengths to sit on as stools, and a sort of fireplace; no room for anything else. The little hole would hardly contain two people. The roof had gone--but Romero had laid on thick spruce boughs.

The strange squalor of the primitive forest pervaded the place, the squalor of animals and their droppings, the squalor of the wild. The Princess knew the peculiar repulsiveness of it. She was tired and faint.

Romero hastily got a handful of twigs, set a little fire going in the stove grate, and went out to attend to the horses. The Princess vaguely, mechanically, put sticks on the fire, in a sort of stupor, watching the blaze, stupefied and fascinated. She could not make much fire--it would set the whole cabin alight. And smoke oozed out of the dilapidated mud-and-stone chimney.

When Romero came in with the saddle-pouches and saddles, hanging the saddles on the wall, there sat the little Princess on her stump of wood in front of the dilapidated fire-grate, warming her tiny hands at the blaze, while her oranges breeches glowed almost like another fire. She was in a sort of stupor.

"You have some whisky now, or some tea? Or wait for some soup?" he asked.

She rose and looked at him with bright, dazed eyes, half comprehending; the colour glowing hectic in her cheeks.

"Some tea," she said, "with a little whisky in it. Where's the kettle?"

"Wait," he said. "I'll bring the things."

She took her cloak from the back of her saddle, and followed him into the open. It was a deep cup of shadow. But above the sky was still shining, and the heights of the mountains were blazing with aspen like fire blazing.

Their horses were cropping the grass among the stones. Romero clambered up a heap of grey stones and began lifting away logs and rocks, till he had opened the mouth of one of the miner's little old workings. This was his cache. He brought out bundles of blankets, pans for cooking, a little petrol camp-stove, an axe, the regular camp outfit. He seemed so quick and energetic and full of force. This quick force dismayed the Princess a little.

She took a saucepan and went down the stones to the water. It was very still and mysterious, and of a deep green colour, yet pure, transparent as glass. How cold the place was! How mysterious and fearful.

She crouched in her dark cloak by the water, rinsing the saucepan, feeling the cold heavy above her, the shadow like a vast weight upon her, bowing her down. The sun was leaving the mountain-tops, departing, leaving her under profound shadow. Soon it would crush her down completely.

Sparks? Or eyes looking at her across the water? She gazed, hypnotised. And with her sharp eyes she made out in the dusk the pale form of a bob-cat crouching by the water's edge, pale as the stones among which it crouched, opposite. And it was watching her with cold, electric eyes of strange intentness, a sort of cold, icy wonder and fearlessness. She saw its museau pushed forward, its tufted ears pricking intensely up. It was watching her with cold, animal curiosity, something demonish and conscienceless.

She made a swift movement, spilling her water. And in a flash the creature was gone, leaping like a cat that is escaping; but strange and soft in its motion, with its little bob-tail. Rather fascinating. Yet that cold, intent, demonish watching! She shivered with cold and fear. She knew well enough the dread and repulsiveness of the wild.

Romero carried in the bundles of bedding and the camp outfit. The windowless cabin was already dark inside. He lit a lantern, and then went out again with the axe. She heard him chopping wood as she fed sticks to the fire under her water. When he came in with an armful of oak-scrub faggots, she had just thrown the tea into the water.

First, there seems to be a lot of alternating light and shadow in this section. Not sure if there is any significance to it.

Just a couple of interesting points in this section. One, the cabin is not much of a cabin. Apparently it has a hole in the roof, so this is practically primitive. I think that's Lawrence's point, to bring these two to a primitive essential.

Another point is highlighted with this:

The strange squalor of the primitive forest pervaded the place, the squalor of animals and their droppings, the squalor of the wild. The Princess knew the peculiar repulsiveness of it. She was tired and faint.
Agan this shows how naive she was. What did she think the primitive forest was going to be like? And if she wanted to go and see wild animals, did she not think they would have droppings. :lol:

Next, the Princess seems to be completely disoriented. She is "tired and faint" and seems to be in a "stupor" and crouching " in her dark cloak by the water, rinsing the saucepan, feeling the cold heavy above her, the shadow like a vast weight upon her, bowing her down." She is in a environment that is beyond her will to control and she cannot cope.

Finally she sees that wild animal that she came to search out:

Sparks? Or eyes looking at her across the water? She gazed, hypnotised. And with her sharp eyes she made out in the dusk the pale form of a bob-cat crouching by the water's edge, pale as the stones among which it crouched, opposite. And it was watching her with cold, electric eyes of strange intentness, a sort of cold, icy wonder and fearlessness. She saw its museau pushed forward, its tufted ears pricking intensely up. It was watching her with cold, animal curiosity, something demonish and conscienceless.

She made a swift movement, spilling her water. And in a flash the creature was gone, leaping like a cat that is escaping; but strange and soft in its motion, with its little bob-tail. Rather fascinating. Yet that cold, intent, demonish watching! She shivered with cold and fear. She knew well enough the dread and repulsiveness of the wild.
And once she sees it, what happens? She recoils. That last sentence actualy disturbs me: "She knew well enough the dread and repulsiveness of the wild." It kind of undermines the whole reason she pushed to go into the wild. How can "she know well enough"? She didn't seem to at the beginning of the story. There are a few details like that which make me wonder if Lawrence was really concentrating on this story. Still, on balance a good story, just not a great story for me.

[Janine]

Well hello Mr. Senility, glad you finally got around to posting something... the thread was fading into the sunset again...


And once she sees it, what happens? She recoils. That last sentence actualy disturbs me: "She knew well enough the dread and repulsiveness of the wild." It kind of undermines the whole reason she pushed to go into the wild. How can "she know well enough"? She didn't seem to at the beginning of the story. There are a few details like that which make me wonder if Lawrence was really concentrating on this story. Still, on balance a good story, just not a great story for me.

humm...I don't agree with you, I think Lawrence knew exactly what he was writing here. He revised his texts enough to know; and by now he was quite an experienced author of stories. I think that her dread and repulsiveness is clearly known to her, before she ventures into the wilderness; she knew it in Italy with the earthy cab drivers. She knew this repulsion then, this disgust. How different then is the raw power of the bob-cat? I think they relate - the men she encountered and shunned in the past and felt she was above and the raw sexuality and wildness of nature and the cat.


It kind of undermines the whole reason she pushed to go into the wild.
Here again I think this - sometimes something that repulses us can still draw us in and capture our attention. I think back to the bull-fight in "The Plumed Serpent"; although shocking and totally revolting, repulsive; people are drawn to it like fleas. They can't escape this drawing power to see it, even when, at the same time they are repulsed by it. I think the princess suddenly acts in the same way - she is drawn into the dark aspects of the mountains, the mystery of nature; once there, true - she is repulsed.

I will address more of your post above tomorrow. Going to bed now. *Yawn*...thanks for posting this, even if I had to remind you again....haha...

[Virgil]

humm...I don't agree with you, I think Lawrence knew exactly what he was writing here. He revised his texts enough to know; and by now he was quite an experienced author of stories. I think that her dread and repulsiveness is clearly known to her, before she ventures into the wilderness; she knew it in Italy with the earthy cab drivers. She knew this repulsion then, this disgust. How different then is the raw power of the bob-cat? I think they relate - the men she encountered and shunned in the past and felt she was above and the raw sexuality and wildness of nature and the cat.

That is a good point about the Italian cab driver. There is a pattern of being repulsed it seems. Yes I see the connection, but why is she so willful in wanting to go?


Here again I think this - sometimes something that repulses us can still draw us in and capture our attention. I think back to the bull-fight in "The Plumed Serpent"; although shocking and totally revolting, repulsive; people are drawn to it like fleas. They can't escape this drawing power to see it, even when, at the same time they are repulsed by it. I think the princess suddenly acts in the same way - she is drawn into the dark aspects of the mountains, the mystery of nature; once there, true - she is repulsed.
True, repulsion can draw us in, but usually that's something like a car accident, something one comes across. But she seeks the adventure out. That is an intersting connection you make with Kate's repusion at that bull fight. It seems "repulsion" was something Lawrence was exploring around this time. I never caught that before.

[Dark Muse]

I did find it interesting how in the previous passage it seemed to be primarily all doom and gloom during the trip, talking about the darkness, and the death-like things, and grayness, and then in this passage, there are moments when the light comes back. I am not sure what to make of that.

I think that because she really had no clear idea of just what she wanted, or what she expected, and that she was just acting on some inner instinct, on the whim of her demon as it where, it is why when she actually got to the cabin she seemed suddenly repulsed by it all. She really did not know what she wanted, and she was beginning to grow doubts of herself now that the moment, she had thought she wanted had come upon her.

Being finally truly alone with Romero in the small dark cold little cabin, she suddenly did not know what to do, or what she wanted. She just had some sort of glorified vague notion of what she was after, but she was not fit to actually have to deal with the true reality of it.

I also thought it was interesting the way demoness was mentioned in relation to the wild cat.

[Virgil]

Ok, I know you've been waiting with bated breath for the next section. ;)


"Sit down," she said, "and drink tea."

He poured a little bootleg whisky into the enamel cups, and in the silence the two sat on the log-ends, sipping the hot liquid and coughing occasionally from the smoke.

"We burn these oak sticks," he said. "They don't make hardly any smoke."

Curious and remote he was, saying nothing except what had to be said. And she, for her part, was as remote from him. They seemed far, far apart, worlds apart, now they were so near.

He unwrapped one bundle of bedding, and spread the blankets and the sheepskin in the wooden bunk.

"You lie down and rest," he said, "and I make the supper."

She decided to do so. Wrapping her cloak round her, she lay down in the bunk, turning her face to the wall. She could hear him preparing supper over the little petrol stove. Soon she could smell the soup he was heating; and soon she heard the hissing of fried chicken in a pan.

"You eat your supper now?" he said.

With a jerky, despairing movement, she sat up in the bunk, tossing back her hair. She felt cornered.

"Give it me here," she said.

He handed her first the cupful of soup. She sat among the blankets, eating it slowly. She was hungry. Then he gave her an enamel plate with pieces of fried chicken and currant jelly, butter and bread. It was very good. As they ate the chicken he made the coffee. She said never a word. A certain resentment filled her. She was cornered.

When supper was over he washed the dishes, dried them, and put everything away carefully, else there would have been no room to move in the hole of a cabin. The oak-wood gave out a good bright heat.

He stood for a few moments at a loss. Then he asked her:

"You want to go to bed soon?"

"Soon," she said. "Where are you going to sleep?"

"I make my bed here--" he pointed to the floor along the wall. "Too cold out of doors."

"Yes," she said. "I suppose it is."

She sat immobile, her cheeks hot, full of conflicting thoughts. And she watched him while he folded the blankets on the floor, a sheepskin underneath. Then she went out into night.

The stars were big. Mars sat on the edge of a mountain, for all the world like the blazing eye of a crouching mountain lion. But she herself was deep, deep below in a pit of shadow. In the intense silence she seemed to hear the spruce forest crackling with electricity and cold. Strange, foreign stars floated on that unmoving water. The night was going to freeze. Over the hills came the far sobbing-singing howling of the coyotes. She wondered how the horses would be.

Shuddering a little, she turned to the cabin. Warm light showed through its chinks. She pushed at the rickety, half-opened door.

"What about the horses?" she said.

"My black, he won't go away. And your mare will stay with him. You want to go to bed now?"

"I think I do."

"All right. I feed the horses some oats."

And he went out into the night.

He did not come back for some time. She was lying wrapped up tight in the bunk.

He blew out the lantern, and sat down on his bedding to take off his clothes. She lay with her back turned. And soon, in the silence, she was asleep.

She dreamed it was snowing, and the snow was falling on her through the roof, softly, softly, helplessly, and she was going to be buried alive. She was growing colder and colder, the snow was weighing down on her. The snow was going to absorb her.

She awoke with a sudden convulsion, like pain. She was really very cold; perhaps the heavy blankets had numbed her. Her heart seemed unable to beat, she felt she could not move.

With another convulsion she sat up. It was intensely dark. There was not even a spark of fire, the light wood had burned right away. She sat in thick oblivious darkness. Only through a chink she could see a star.

What did she want? Oh, what did she want? She sat in bed and rocked herself woefully. She could hear the steady breathing of the sleeping man. She was shivering with cold; her heart seemed as if it could not beat. She wanted warmth, protection, she wanted to be taken away from herself. And at the same time, perhaps more deeply than anything, she wanted to keep herself intact, intact, untouched, that no one should have any power over her, or rights to her. It was a wild necessity in her that no one, particularly no man, should have any rights or power over her, that no one and nothing should possess her.

Yet that other thing! And she was so cold, so shivering, and her heart could not beat. Oh, would not someone help her heart to beat?

She tried to speak, and could not. Then she cleared her throat.

"Romero," she said strangely, "it is so cold."

Where did her voice come from, and whose voice was it, in the dark?

She heard him at once sit up, and his voice, startled, with a resonance that seemed to vibrate against her, saying:

"You want me to make you warm?"

"Yes."

As soon as he had lifted her in his arms, she wanted to scream to him not to touch her. She stiffened herself. Yet she was dumb.

And he was warm, but with a terrible animal warmth that seemed to annihilate her. He panted like an animal with desire. And she was given over to this thing.

She had never, never wanted to be given over to this. But she had willed that it should happen to her. And according to her will, she lay and let it happen. But she never wanted it. She never wanted to be thus assailed and handled, and mauled. She wanted to keep herself to herself.

However, she had willed it to happen, and it had happened. She panted with relief when it was over.

Yet even now she had to lie within the hard, powerful clasp of this other creature, this man. She dreaded to struggle to go away. She dreaded almost too much the icy cold of that other bunk.

"Do you want to go away from me?" asked his strange voice. Oh, if it could only have been a thousand miles away from her! Yet she had willed to have it thus close.

"No," she said.

And she could feel a curious joy and pride surging up again in him: at her expense. Because he had got her. She felt like a victim there. And he was exulting in his power over her, his possession, his pleasure.

There are a number of interesting points in this section. Of course there is the intense cold. This is nature completely unsmpathetic to human needs. There is this lovely passage:

The stars were big. Mars sat on the edge of a mountain, for all the world like the blazing eye of a crouching mountain lion. But she herself was deep, deep below in a pit of shadow. In the intense silence she seemed to hear the spruce forest crackling with electricity and cold. Strange, foreign stars floated on that unmoving water. The night was going to freeze. Over the hills came the far sobbing-singing howling of the coyotes. She wondered how the horses would be.
Nature is charged with intensity and power: the planet like a mountain lion's eye, the intense silence, the forest "crackling with electricity and cold," and howling of the coyotes, "singing-sobbing." She is obviously uncomfortable with the sleeping arrangements, though she asks about the horses. And Romero ironicaly replies, "My black, he won't go away. And your mare will stay with him. You want to go to bed now?" This counterpoints her and Romero's situation, I think. Or it shows how Romero thinks, a mare will submitt to the male.

Not sure why Romero takes off his clothes in such cold weather, other than he was planning to do what he does.

Here's a wonderful Lawrencian passage that moves her emotions to the point of where her will crystalizes:

She dreamed it was snowing, and the snow was falling on her through the roof, softly, softly, helplessly, and she was going to be buried alive. She was growing colder and colder, the snow was weighing down on her. The snow was going to absorb her.

She awoke with a sudden convulsion, like pain. She was really very cold; perhaps the heavy blankets had numbed her. Her heart seemed unable to beat, she felt she could not move.

With another convulsion she sat up. It was intensely dark. There was not even a spark of fire, the light wood had burned right away. She sat in thick oblivious darkness. Only through a chink she could see a star.

What did she want? Oh, what did she want? She sat in bed and rocked herself woefully. She could hear the steady breathing of the sleeping man. She was shivering with cold; her heart seemed as if it could not beat. She wanted warmth, protection, she wanted to be taken away from herself. And at the same time, perhaps more deeply than anything, she wanted to keep herself intact, intact, untouched, that no one should have any power over her, or rights to her. It was a wild necessity in her that no one, particularly no man, should have any rights or power over her, that no one and nothing should possess her.
She's really in a quandry. The cold has pushed her to depend on Romero, but her will represses.
But nature forces her to give in:

Yet that other thing! And she was so cold, so shivering, and her heart could not beat. Oh, would not someone help her heart to beat?

She tried to speak, and could not. Then she cleared her throat.

"Romero," she said strangely, "it is so cold."

Where did her voice come from, and whose voice was it, in the dark?

She heard him at once sit up, and his voice, startled, with a resonance that seemed to vibrate against her, saying:

"You want me to make you warm?"

"Yes."

As soon as he had lifted her in his arms, she wanted to scream to him not to touch her. She stiffened herself. Yet she was dumb.
And then the rape, at least from her point of view. From Romero's he can justifiably say she accepted it, or even wanted it. But here's where I think Lawrence loses me again in this story:

And he was warm, but with a terrible animal warmth that seemed to annihilate her. He panted like an animal with desire. And she was given over to this thing.

She had never, never wanted to be given over to this. But she had willed that it should happen to her. And according to her will, she lay and let it happen. But she never wanted it. She never wanted to be thus assailed and handled, and mauled. She wanted to keep herself to herself.

However, she had willed it to happen, and it had happened. She panted with relief when it was over.
Lawrence is claiing she willed it to happen, and maybe that's what Lawrence intended, but I don't see it. Unlike the story, The Prussian Officer, where Lawrence develops this subconcious desire, I don't think he does enough to convince me in this story that she really wanted the sex, even when consciously she doesn't. Perhaps someone can defend Lawrence here, but it just feels undeveloped to me. But still the entire section is a great passage.

[Janine]

Ok, I know you've been waiting with bated breath for the next section. ;)

Finally!... I thought we would never push onto this climatic moment - near end of your post.


There are a number of interesting points in this section. Of course there is the intense cold. This is nature completely unsmpathetic to human needs. There is this lovely passage:

Exceedingly interesting post indeed! I quite enjoyed this bit of Lawrence's writing. If you have ever camped or been out in the wilderness when it is indeed cold or on the chilly side, then you might not be able to relate to this. I did have a rare opportunity to do so many years back. Camping itself and nature alters ones' perception entirely in my opinion. Of course fire and warmth, also comfort food (soup, etc.) seem now to be priorities in life. And yes, Virgil, I will be disputing your last part and your confusion about Lawrence's writing; you know me, I will be defending my Lawrence.;):lol: I don't really this inward confusion as any different than the confusion within many of Lawrence's characters (often women, but sometimes men, as well) in this novels or stories.


Do you want to go away from me?" asked his strange voice. Oh, if it could only have been a thousand miles away from her! Yet she had willed to have it thus close."

Is this quote correct - or should that be thousand miles away from here OR from him? I don't know if the whole line reads right either. *confused*...is this from her point of view or his? I guess I am referring to "his strange voice."


"No," she said.

And she could feel a curious joy and pride surging up again in him: at her expense. Because he had got her. She felt like a victim there. And he was exulting in his power over her, his possession, his pleasure.

This statement and the one at the end of the first section of text you posted, already demonstrates to us some confusion and opposition within Dolly's own mind. She seems to want some type of connection with Romero, but she does not want him to have power over her. When she realises she is in this position she then feels she is the 'victim.' However, later I think she wavers in asking him into her bed. He did not just barge in without being invited afterall. I don't think Dolly remains firm, she wants something and then she doesn't. Hey, what do they always say 'it is the right for a woman to change her mind'...unfortunately Dolly puts herself in a very precarious positon, leads Romero right up to the brink of his explosive passion and then backs down - 'changes her mind'. She brings this on herself with that state of indecision or confusion within herself.


Nature is charged with intensity and power: the planet like a mountain lion's eye, the intense silence, the forest "crackling with electricity and cold," and howling of the coyotes, "singing-sobbing." She is obviously uncomfortable with the sleeping arrangements, though she asks about the horses. And Romero ironicaly replies, "My black, he won't go away. And your mare will stay with him. You want to go to bed now?" This counterpoints her and Romero's situation, I think. Or it shows how Romero thinks, a mare will submitt to the male.

Absolutely charged with "intensity and power" I just love those images and L's references. The writing in this part is exceptional! Yes, the horses do mimic the way in which Romero thinks. Much like the image of Gerald in WIL, he is the master, not only of the woman but of his horses and his 'black' horse is master over the mare; thus showing Lawrence's view at this time of the male naturally being dominent over the female. Ok, here definitely is where the feminists start howling. But this theme does run through many of his novels and stories.


Not sure why Romero takes off his clothes in such cold weather, other than he was planning to do what he does.

He is warm blooded??? like....
"He's warm blooded, check it and see, he's got a fever of 103%" - remember that song? haha...:lol:


Here's a wonderful Lawrencian passage that moves her emotions to the point of where her will crystalizes:

Yes, excellent passage, well written; I agree.


She's really in a quandry. The cold has pushed her to depend on Romero, but her will represses.

Yes, she certainly is in a quandry but she put herself willingly into this situation. The cold in "Virgin and the Gypsy" put her into a similar situation; in that case the woman did not reject the man. She also asked for help in getting warmed up. She was the younger of the two women and yet she has less naivity about sex than Dolly has. Dolly has book learning about sex and not actually knowledge of the act. She thinks she wants the male closeness and warmth but she is 'unrealistic' when it comes to what that will mean in the end to her.


But nature forces her to give in:
And then the rape, at least from her point of view. From Romero's he can justifiably say she accepted it, or even wanted it. But here's where I think Lawrence loses me again in this story:

Lawrence is claiing she willed it to happen, and maybe that's what Lawrence intended, but I don't see it. Unlike the story, The Prussian Officer, where Lawrence develops this subconcious desire, I don't think he does enough to convince me in this story that she really wanted the sex, even when consciously she doesn't. Perhaps someone can defend Lawrence here, but it just feels undeveloped to me. But still the entire section is a great passage.[/QUOTE]

Well, her 'will' was strong all throughout the story. I think she believed she could maintain that 'will' and have her 'will' over Romero in the end. But she could not. I don't see where this is so unrealistic, as far as the writing was concerned. They are in another worldly type environment; as I said nature can alter one's perception greatly. One can feel almost insignificant against the backdrop of the power of nature as Lawrence has painted it here. And afterall, Lawrence usually does write about 'conflicts' within his characters themselves. I see this as a great conflict within Dolly, from the start of this story. Dolly wanted something she could not have. She was 'unrealistic' as I already said. I thought the passage was great and written very well. I didn't once feel it to be under-developed. Maybe you are looking at it too much from a male point of view, Virgil;) I seriously think that any man in this circumstance would have reacted the same way as Romero does. He may feel she wants to be taken; he may be reading her all wrong; who wouldn't given she even invites him into her bed? He has felt her thoughts out all through the journey to this point, to this cabin. When she agrees that he come into her bed, then she crosses that delicate line. After that, the story situtation quickly spirals out of control.

[Janine]

Hello Virgil or anyone! *echo* Hello! Are we ever going to progress with this story? I thought by now someone would have answered my post above. I'm just posting now to remind you all that the L thread exists.

[Dark Muse]

I have been meaning to respond to the latest part posted I just have not been able to get around to doing so yet. I will try to soon.

[Janine]

I have been meaning to respond to the latest part posted I just have not been able to get around to doing so yet. I will try to soon.

Thanks for responding Dark Muse, sorry I did not mention you by name. I didn't forget you. I thought you were probably in Poe-land. I am glad you didn't forget this story. Virgil seems to have a mental block this month about the short story or else he is so busy working. I will give him a gentle nudge towards this thread; drop a line in his profile page.

[Virgil]

Finally!... I thought we would never push onto this climatic moment - near end of your post.

Complaining, complaining. :p


Exceedingly interesting post indeed! I quite enjoyed this bit of Lawrence's writing. If you have ever camped or been out in the wilderness when it is indeed cold or on the chilly side, then you might not be able to relate to this. I did have a rare opportunity to do so many years back. Camping itself and nature alters ones' perception entirely in my opinion. Of course fire and warmth, also comfort food (soup, etc.) seem now to be priorities in life.
Yes, that's a good way to put it, pushing the situation to the priorities of life. Actually to an animal's existance, naturalism in the extreme.


Is this quote correct - or should that be thousand miles away from here OR from him? I don't know if the whole line reads right either. *confused*...is this from her point of view or his? I guess I am referring to "his strange voice."
I copied it off the web site. It looks like a typo. I don't have my hard text with me. Perhaps someone can look it up and see if it's the same in the print.


This statement and the one at the end of the first section of text you posted, already demonstrates to us some confusion and opposition within Dolly's own mind. She seems to want some type of connection with Romero, but she does not want him to have power over her. When she realises she is in this position she then feels she is the 'victim.' However, later I think she wavers in asking him into her bed. He did not just barge in without being invited afterall. I don't think Dolly remains firm, she wants something and then she doesn't. Hey, what do they always say 'it is the right for a woman to change her mind'...unfortunately Dolly puts herself in a very precarious positon, leads Romero right up to the brink of his explosive passion and then backs down - 'changes her mind'. She brings this on herself with that state of indecision or confusion within herself.
Yes, that is a good way to look at it.


Absolutely charged with "intensity and power" I just love those images and L's references. The writing in this part is exceptional! Yes, the horses do mimic the way in which Romero thinks.
Actually more like the way Lawrence thinks. :D


Much like the image of Gerald in WIL, he is the master, not only of the woman but of his horses and his 'black' horse is master over the mare; thus showing Lawrence's view at this time of the male naturally being dominent over the female. Ok, here definitely is where the feminists start howling. But this theme does run through many of his novels and stories.
Hehe, I love it when the feminists start howling. :D


He is warm blooded??? like....
"He's warm blooded, check it and see, he's got a fever of 103%" - remember that song? haha...:lol:
Do you do more than dance? I guess Dollie doesn't want to. ;)


Yes, she certainly is in a quandry but she put herself willingly into this situation. The cold in "Virgin and the Gypsy" put her into a similar situation; in that case the woman did not reject the man. She also asked for help in getting warmed up. She was the younger of the two women and yet she has less naivity about sex than Dolly has. Dolly has book learning about sex and not actually knowledge of the act. She thinks she wants the male closeness and warmth but she is 'unrealistic' when it comes to what that will mean in the end to her.
Oh I haven't read The V&G. Sounds like there are parallels.


Well, her 'will' was strong all throughout the story. I think she believed she could maintain that 'will' and have her 'will' over Romero in the end. But she could not. I don't see where this is so unrealistic, as far as the writing was concerned.
I can't help but feel that Lawrence is unclear. Does he really dig into Dollie's mind as he does with other characters? I don't think so. This was already a fairly long story and I bet he was trying to cut corners. But I think you're interpretation of Dollie's actions is correct.


They are in another worldly type environment; as I said nature can alter one's perception greatly. One can feel almost insignificant against the backdrop of the power of nature as Lawrence has painted it here. And afterall, Lawrence usually does write about 'conflicts' within his characters themselves. I see this as a great conflict within Dolly, from the start of this story. Dolly wanted something she could not have. She was 'unrealistic' as I already said. I thought the passage was great and written very well. I didn't once feel it to be under-developed. Maybe you are looking at it too much from a male point of view,
Perhaps so.


Virgil;) I seriously think that any man in this circumstance would have reacted the same way as Romero does. He may feel she wants to be taken; he may be reading her all wrong; who wouldn't given she even invites him into her bed? He has felt her thoughts out all through the journey to this point, to this cabin. When she agrees that he come into her bed, then she crosses that delicate line. After that, the story situtation quickly spirals out of control.
Well, that could explain the initial sex. But there is more to the actions which I'll post tonight.

I did notice something else in this section just now that I should have mentioned. Look at this paragraph:

And he was warm, but with a terrible animal warmth that seemed to annihilate her. He panted like an animal with desire. And she was given over to this thing.
Notice the word "annihilate." Lawrence uses that word a lot. There are two manners in which he uses it. One, as a climax to a battle of wills where one will destroys the other. Or two in a moment of sexual climax where the will just disappears for a moment and one is in a moment of mindlessness, the will being temporarily destroyed. Not sure how Lawrence is using it here. It seems to come around the sexual moment. But it also seems to come at a point where his will over comes her resistance.

[Dark Muse]

I do not think that in this part of the story it can truly be called a rape at this point. Though she does not "want" the sex, at least not in the tradidtional sense she is not actively enjoying it, she could just as well have asked him to start a fire again if she wanted warmth.

She of her own will agreed to get into bed with him. So to speak since they do not acutally have beds. She is determined to have this experince, so I think she does consent to it, I do not truly think she is being froced here. She asked for it to happen, and allowed it to happen even if she is not enjoying it.

If at this point the story Romero truly wanted to rape her, he would not have asked her if she wanted to sleep with him, he could have just pounced upon her and overpowered her.

[Virgil]

This is true Muse. I don't think Lawrence would consider it a rape. In fact I change my mind. It's not a rape. God, the feminists have almost gotten to me too. :p :D

[Janine]

I do not think that in this part of the story it can truly be called a rape at this point. Though she does not "want" the sex, at least not in the tradidtional sense she is not actively enjoying it, she could just as well have asked him to start a fire again if she wanted warmth.

She of her own will agreed to get into bed with him. So to speak since they do not acutally have beds. She is determined to have this experince, so I think she does consent to it, I do not truly think she is being froced here. She asked for it to happen, and allowed it to happen even if she is not enjoying it.

If at this point the story Romero truly wanted to rape her, he would not have asked her if she wanted to sleep with him, he could have just pounced upon her and overpowered her.

I totally agree with you, Dark Muse. Pretty weird, huh?... We are agreeing again. We might agree on more things than you would think. :lol:

Yes, Virgil, I believe those darm feminists have almost got to you again! :lol:

I will answer your reply above to my comments later on, V.

[Janine]

He unwrapped one bundle of bedding, and spread the blankets and the sheepskin in the wooden bunk

Dark Muse, isn't a bunk a sort of bed? or do you think they are referring here to the floor or the cabin? Just curious. Is it our turn to comment on your text or further comment on your posts about my comments on the text, Virgil? I feel sort of lost now in this discussion.

[Virgil]

Quote:
He unwrapped one bundle of bedding, and spread the blankets and the sheepskin in the wooden bunk
Sheepskin? Do you think he had condoms? :lol:


Dark Muse, isn't a bunk a sort of bed? or do you think they are referring here to the floor or the cabin? Just curious. Is it our turn to comment on your text or further comment on your posts about my comments on the text, Virgil? I feel sort of lost now in this discussion.

I must admit I was confused as to what they were sleeping on. At first i thought it was sleeping bags but when I saw bunk the other day I thought, oh they had beds or cots. I'm still not sure. And why are you lost? You said above you were going to reply to my comments. I was waiting.

[Janine]

Sheepskin? Do you think he had condoms? :lol:

hahaha....very funny....Virgil! I don't think so. I think they were skins from sheeps that were wooley and kept one warm!


I must admit I was confused as to what they were sleeping on. At first i thought it was sleeping bags but when I saw bunk the other day I thought, oh they had beds or cots. I'm still not sure. And why are you lost? You said above you were going to reply to my comments. I was waiting.

Oh, yeah :blush: I sort of forgot (thus I am a bit 'lost' lately)...sorry 'bout that. I will get to that tomorrow; still watching my Tenessee Williams play. I guess this is going to run into next month; but maybe we can try hard to get it done this following week; what do you think?

[Virgil]

Ok, let's get it done by the end of January. I think there are about three more sections to go. How about one tomorrow night, one Sunday night, and one mid week? That should cover it.

[Janine]

Ok, let's get it done by the end of January. I think there are about three more sections to go. How about one tomorrow night, one Sunday night, and one mid week? That should cover it.

Ok, good; then I will try to answer your last post of comments on my comments now.

[Janine]

Complaining, complaining. :p

Well, you complained I was slow keeping this going or posting too much and you keep us waiting and waiting and waiting...:yawnb: Just giving your back a little of your own medicine.;)


Yes, that's a good way to put it, pushing the situation to the priorities of life. Actually to an animal's existance, naturalism in the extreme.
Yeah, the basics become more clear to you when put into a totally natural environment. One feels quite transformed/altered.


I copied it off the web site. It looks like a typo. I don't have my hard text with me. Perhaps someone can look it up and see if it's the same in the print.
Oh, I didn't check it; I will later to night. No big deal though.


Yes, that is a good way to look at it. Thanks, glad you agree...


Actually more like the way Lawrence thinks. :D
Probably true...he is the author. The writing usually does reflect his own attitudes. I somehow get the impression with this story though that Romero is more like Tony Luhan who married Mable. I think I may have read that somewhere.


Hehe, I love it when the feminists start howling. :D I bet you do. I think Romero would have liked Dolly to do a little howling, too....:brow::lol:


Do you do more than dance? I guess Dollie doesn't want to. ;) Who me, personally? oh I get it ...the song...haha...I guess Dollie doesn't want to though. She just wants to stop at the dance steps.


Oh I haven't read The V&G. Sounds like there are parallels.No kidding? I would have though you would have read it. I have the film version as well. It is pretty good; sort of reminds one of LCL in some aspects. Only one thing bugs me about it. The gyspy man is married. I don't quite get the promiscuity there since I thought Lawrence a little more monogamous thinking, but you know Lawrence sure does surprise me sometimes.


I can't help but feel that Lawrence is unclear. Does he really dig into Dollie's mind as he does with other characters? I don't think so. This was already a fairly long story and I bet he was trying to cut corners. But I think you're interpretation of Dollie's actions is correct.

Maybe being as close as he was to the real person, Brett, he felt it an invasion to go too deeply into the character's mind. Also, remember, although this is long for a short story, still it is his short fiction. In a novel he goes more deeply into the psyche of a woman character's mind; well also with men characters as well. I don't think this story is underdeveloped; I don't think he cut corners; Lawrence was always re-writing and perfecting his work. I can't imagine a work this long and ambitious, being one that he skimped on.


Perhaps so. I believe so.


Well, that could explain the initial sex. But there is more to the actions which I'll post tonight.

So will you post 'the more to the actions' with the next body of text?


I did notice something else in this section just now that I should have mentioned. Look at this paragraph:

Notice the word "annihilate." Lawrence uses that word a lot. There are two manners in which he uses it. One, as a climax to a battle of wills where one will destroys the other. Or two in a moment of sexual climax where the will just disappears for a moment and one is in a moment of mindlessness, the will being temporarily destroyed. Not sure how Lawrence is using it here. It seems to come around the sexual moment. But it also seems to come at a point where his will over comes her resistance.

In this case I see it as the first - "the battle of wills where one will destroy the other"...good way of putting that. But then again, if the second is only momentary perhaps that is part of it. I don't know that; Dolly seems totally braced against accepting the sexual furfillment of this experience. I still think it the first. She experiences a temporary loss of her own will, probably the first time in her life she has encountered or experienced this. That is why it is so earth-shattering to her; traumatic. Your last statement seems accurate to me 'But it also seems to come at a point where his will over comes her resistance".

[Virgil]

Next section:


When dawn came, he was fast asleep. She sat up suddenly.

"I want a fire," she said.

He opened his brown eyes wide, and smiled with a curious tender luxuriousness.

"I want you to make a fire," she said.

He glanced at the chinks of light. His brown face hardened to the day.

"All right," he said. "I'll make it."

She did her face while he dressed. She could not bear to look at him. He was so suffused with pride and luxury. She hid her face almost in despair. But feeling the cold blast of air as he opened the door, she wriggled down into the warm place where he had been. How soon the warmth ebbed, when he had gone!

He made a fire and went out, returning after a while with water.

"You stay in bed till the sun comes," he said. "It very cold."

"Hand me my cloak."

She wrapped the cloak fast round her, and sat up among the blankets. The warmth was already spreading from the fire.

"I suppose we will start back as soon as we've had breakfast?"

He was crouching at his camp-stove making scrambled eggs. He looked up suddenly, transfixed, and his brown eyes, so soft and luxuriously widened, looked straight at her.

"You want to?" he said.

"We'd better get back as soon as possible," she said, turning aside from his eyes.

"You want to get away from me?" he asked, repeating the question of the night in a sort of dread.

"I want to get away from here," she said decisively. And it was true. She wanted supremely to get away, back to the world of people.

He rose slowly to his feet, holding the aluminium frying-pan.

"Don't you like last night?" he asked.

"Not really," she said. "Why? Do you?"

He put down the frying-pan and stood staring at the wall. She could see she had given him a cruel blow. But she did not relent. She was getting her own back. She wanted to regain possession of all herself, and in some mysterious way she felt that he possessed some part of her still.

He looked round at her slowly, his face greyish and heavy.

"You Americans," he said, "you always want to do a man down."

"I am not American," she said. "I am British. And I don't want to do any man down. I only want to go back now."

"And what will you say about me, down there?"

"That you were very kind to me, and very good."

He crouched down again, and went on turning the eggs. He gave her her plate, and her coffee, and sat down to his own food.

But again he seemed not to be able to swallow. He looked up at her.

"You don't like last night?" he asked.

"Not really," she said, though with some difficulty. "I don't care for that kind of thing."

A blank sort of wonder spread over his face at these words, followed immediately by a black look of anger, and then a stony, sinister despair.

"You don't?" he said, looking her in the eyes.

"Not really," she replied, looking back with steady hostility into his eyes.

Then a dark flame seemed to come from his face.

"I make you," he said, as if to himself.

He rose and reached her clothes, that hung on a peg: the fine linen underwear, the orange breeches, the fleecy jumper, the blue-and-bluff kerchief; then he took up her riding-boots and her bead moccasins. Crushing everything in his arms, he opened the door. Sitting up, she saw him stride down to the dark-green pool in the frozen shadow of that deep cup of a valley. He tossed the clothing and the boots out on the pool. Ice had formed. And on the pure, dark green mirror, in the slaty shadow, the Princess saw her things lying, the white linen, the orange breeches, the black boots, the blue moccasins, a tangled heap of colour. Romero picked up rocks and heaved them out at the ice, till the surface broke and the fluttering clothing disappeared in the rattling water, while the valley echoed and shouted again with the sound.

She sat in despair among the blankets, hugging tight her pale-blue cloak. Romero strode straight back to the cabin.

"Now you stay here with me," he said.

She was furious. Her blue eyes met his. They were like two demons watching one another. In his face, beyond a sort of unrelieved gloom, was a demonish desire for death.

He saw her looking round the cabin, scheming. He saw her eyes on his rifle. He took the gun and went out with it. Returning, he pulled out her saddle, carried it to the tarn, and threw it in. Then he fetched his own saddle, and did the same.

"Now will you go away?" he said, looking at her with a smile.

She debated within herself whether to coax him and wheedle him. But she knew he was already beyond it. She sat among her blankets in a frozen sort of despair, hard as hard ice with anger.

I guess a couple of points. Obviously his male ego is extremely proud in the morning: "He opened his brown eyes wide, and smiled with a curious tender luxuriousness." But she is grieved by the whole experience: "She could not bear to look at him. He was so suffused with pride and luxury. She hid her face almost in despair." And it's this split between them that drives the dialogue, he thinking his maleness has pleased the female, she feeling violated. Her rejection of him is rejection of his maleness, and this is what makes him go off.

"I suppose we will start back as soon as we've had breakfast?"

He was crouching at his camp-stove making scrambled eggs. He looked up suddenly, transfixed, and his brown eyes, so soft and luxuriously widened, looked straight at her.

"You want to?" he said.

"We'd better get back as soon as possible," she said, turning aside from his eyes.

"You want to get away from me?" he asked, repeating the question of the night in a sort of dread.

"I want to get away from here," she said decisively. And it was true. She wanted supremely to get away, back to the world of people.

He rose slowly to his feet, holding the aluminium frying-pan.

"Don't you like last night?" he asked.

"Not really," she said. "Why? Do you?"

He put down the frying-pan and stood staring at the wall. She could see she had given him a cruel blow. But she did not relent. She was getting her own back. She wanted to regain possession of all herself, and in some mysterious way she felt that he possessed some part of her still.

His will had anihlated hers and she is trying to regain her will back and use it to anhilate his. Notice that he feels an attack to his masculinity:

You Americans," he said, "you always want to do a man down."
To Romero, the sex was a transformative experience, and perhaps for her too but in a different, neagtive way:

"You don't like last night?" he asked.

"Not really," she said, though with some difficulty. "I don't care for that kind of thing."

A blank sort of wonder spread over his face at these words, followed immediately by a black look of anger, and then a stony, sinister despair.

"You don't?" he said, looking her in the eyes.

"Not really," she replied, looking back with steady hostility into his eyes.

Then a dark flame seemed to come from his face.
And then Romero says something that I think is critical: ""I make you," he said, as if to himself." I make you like it is what he is saying. He will impose his will on her. This becomes a battle of wills, his will awakened by the natural elements, the cold and the remoteness and the sex. And so he tosses her clothes out and she is left naked, down to a bare animal.

[Janine]

Next section:

I guess a couple of points. Obviously his male ego is extremely proud in the morning: "He opened his brown eyes wide, and smiled with a curious tender luxuriousness." But she is grieved by the whole experience: "She could not bear to look at him. He was so suffused with pride and luxury. She hid her face almost in despair." And it's this split between them that drives the dialogue, he thinking his maleness has pleased the female, she feeling violated. Her rejection of him is rejection of his maleness, and this is what makes him go off.

I think most men would feel that way naturally. He is proud of his maleness and she bashes his ego to the ground. She is totally cold to him. I don't know how she was in the night, but apparently he did not read her as she is now - braced dead against him. The sunlight seems to have brought on this split and distance between them. In the darkness all can see mysterious and unread, then day dawned and reality hits her right between the eyes. She realises she lost her will temporarily and she wants it back. She fights for it the only way she knows by rejecting his maleness entirely. You can see why he flips out and get entirely angry and willful with her.


His will had anihlated hers and she is trying to regain her will back and use it to anhilate his. Notice that he feels an attack to his masculinity:

Absolutely - it must have been how he felt at that moment - anihilated. Lots of anihilting going around here.;):lol: It would definitely be a huge attack to his masculinity and his male ego.


To Romero, the sex was a transformative experience, and perhaps for her too but in a different, neagtive way:
Most likely - yes it was to him. How so in a negative way for her? Not sure I quite get your idea here.


And then Romero says something that I think is critical: ""I make you," he said, as if to himself." I make you like it is what he is saying. He will impose his will on her. This becomes a battle of wills, his will awakened by the natural elements, the cold and the remoteness and the sex. And so he tosses her clothes out and she is left naked, down to a bare animal.

Again, I think this whole story ends up being a battleground of the two wills....so I agree with you. His only way to lash out at her and maintain control is to toss her clothes into the river. Interesting thought - that "she is left naked, down to a bare animal".....I believe 'naked and vulnerable' were Lawrence's words exactly, when conversing with a friend and decribing Michelanglo's 'David' in all his male pride and naturalness. Romero is this and wants to force Dolly to meet him on his terms; of course we know this will not happen in this story.

[Dark Muse]

"I want a fire," she said.

He opened his brown eyes wide, and smiled with a curious tender luxuriousness.

"I want you to make a fire," she said.

He glanced at the chinks of light. His brown face hardened to the day.

"All right," he said. "I'll make it."


This made me think of the fire, and the role of fire in the story Witch la mode (I think that is what it was called or close anyway) Fire is linked to sex for some obvious reasons, though in the stories we have read thus far where it seems to come into play the "passions" as it were in connection to fire do not seem to be shed in a very positive light. Considering the nature of fire, it does seem to be linked to a very primal and lust based sexuality.

It also seems to be used as a barrier as well as a symbol. In Witch la mode it was what eventually ended the potential affair and came between the two lovers driving them finally apart from each other, and here, the Princess now seeks to replace the warmth of Romero with the fire instead, as she no longer has need or "want" of him.

[Janine]

This made me think of the fire, and the role of fire in the story Witch la mode (I think that is what it was called or close anyway) Fire is linked to sex for some obvious reasons, though in the stories we have read thus far where it seems to come into play the "passions" as it were in connection to fire do not seem to be shed in a very positive light. Considering the nature of fire, it does seem to be linked to a very primal and lust based sexuality.

It also seems to be used as a barrier as well as a symbol. In Witch la mode it was what eventually ended the potential affair and came between the two lovers driving them finally apart from each other, and here, the Princess now seeks to replace the warmth of Romero with the fire instead, as she no longer has need or "want" of him.

'Hey, those are good observations and points you made, Dark Muse. This story also recalls me to the other story 'Witch a la Mode' probably because the man is lead on and then ultimately rejected. And you are right, fire plays prominently in both stories. I keep recalling another story we did way back -'Horse-Dealer's Daughter'. I believe the young man made a fire in the story and indeed the two people enter into a transfiguration as he brings her back to life getting her warm. In that story the transfiguration is accomplished; whereas in these other two stories the result is just the opposite. Interesting to compare the stories.

[Virgil]

Good associations from both you ladies. :) I hadn't considered any of those thoughts.

What happened to Quark?

[Janine]

Good associations from both you ladies. :) I hadn't considered any of those thoughts.

Thanks Virgil, are you trying to get on my good side;):lol:. DM thought of the fire association. I think that set me thinking further. Fire is also light and warmth to Lawrence; so the mere mention of it is interesting. Now that I think of it Lawrence often refers to fires; campfires such as in "The Virgin and the Gypsy" and other stories. I think the fire in this story is particularly significant. Interesting that Romero points out the fact they use a certain type of branch or twig since it burns long without making a lot of smoke. I wonder what Lawrence's intentions were there.



What happened to Quark?

Yeah, where did he run off to...again? I miss seeing his comments. I also miss our Chekhov Short Story thread. That was a good discussion group.

[Virgil]

Next section.


He did the chores, and disappeared with the gun. She got up in her blue pyjamas, huddled in her cloak, and stood in the doorway. The dark-green pool was motionless again, the stony slopes were pallid and frozen. Shadow still lay, like an after-death, deep in this valley. Always in the distance she saw the horses feeding. If she could catch one! The brilliant yellow sun was half-way down the mountain. It was nine o'clock.

All day she was alone, and she was frightened. What she was frightened of she didn't know. Perhaps the crackling in the dark spruce wood. Perhaps just the savage, heartless wildness of the mountains. But all day she sat in the sun in the doorway of the cabin, watching, watching for hope. And all the time her bowels were cramped with fear.

She saw a dark spot that probably was a bear, roving across the pale grassy slope in the far distance, in the sun.

When, in the afternoon, she saw Romero approaching, with silent suddenness, carrying his gun and a dead deer, the cramp in her bowels relaxed, then became colder. She dreaded him with a cold dread.

"There is deer-meat," he said, throwing the dead doe at her feet.

"You don't want to go away from here," he said. "This is a nice place."

She shrank into the cabin.

"Come into the sun," he said, following her. She looked up at him with hostile, frightened eyes.

"Come into the sun," he repeated, taking her gently by the arm, in a powerful grasp.

She knew it was useless to rebel. Quietly he led her out, and seated himself in the doorway, holding her still by the arm.

"In the sun it is warm," he said. "Look, this is a nice place. You are such a pretty white woman, why do you want to act mean to me? Isn't this a nice place? Come! Come here! It is sure warm here."

He drew her to him, and in spite of her stony resistance, he took her cloak from her, holding her in her thin blue pyjamas.

"You sure are a pretty little white woman, small and pretty," he said. "You sure won't act mean to me--you don't want to, I know you don't."

She, stony and powerless, had to submit to him. The sun shone on her white, delicate skin.

"I sure don't mind hell fire," he said. "After this."

A queer, luxurious good humour seemed to possess him again. But though outwardly she was powerless, inwardly she resisted him, absolutely and stonily.

When later he was leaving her again, she said to him suddenly:

"You think you can conquer me this way. But you can't. You can never conquer me."

He stood arrested, looking back at her, with many emotions conflicting in his face--wonder, surprise, a touch of horror, and an unconscious pain that crumpled his face till it was like a mask. Then he went out without saying a word, hung the dead deer on a bough, and started to flay it. While he was at this butcher's work, the sun sank and cold night came on again.

"You see," he said to her as he crouched, cooking the supper, "I ain't going to let you go. I reckon you called to me in the night, and I've some right. If you want to fix it up right now with me, and say you want to be with me, we'll fix it up now and go down to the ranch to-morrow and get married or whatever you want. But you've got to say you want to be with me. Else I shall stay right here, till something happens."

She waited a while before she answered:

"I don't want to be with anybody against my will. I don't dislike you; at least, I didn't, till you tried to put your will over mine. I won't have anybody's will put over me. You can't succeed. Nobody could. You can never get me under your will. And you won't have long to try, because soon they will send someone to look for me."

He pondered this last, and she regretted having said it. Then, sombre, he bent to the cooking again.

He could not conquer her, however much he violated her. Because her spirit was hard and flawless as a diamond. But he could shatter her. This she knew. Much more, and she would be shattered.

In a sombre, violent excess he tried to expend his desire for her. And she was racked with an agony, and felt each time she would die. Because, in some peculiar way, he had got hold of her, some unrealised part of her which she never wished to realise. Racked with a burning, tearing anguish, she felt that the thread of her being would break, and she would die. The burning heat that racked her inwardly.

If only, only she could be alone again, cool and intact! If only she could recover herself again, cool and intact! Would she ever, ever, ever be able to bear herself again?

Even now she did not hate him. It was beyond that. Like some racking, hot doom. Personally he hardly existed.

Wow, I didn't realize how powerful this section was until now. Two things to highlight I think.

First, his hunting of the deer shows his masculine and natural character. He brings back the deer and flays it. I wonder if the deer is meant to represent Dollie. But that may be a stretch, though the deer is a doe. But certainly he's master of the natural elements and she shows no dexterity at all and in fact is fearful. Interesting how he gets a certain power from the sun.


"There is deer-meat," he said, throwing the dead doe at her feet.

"You don't want to go away from here," he said. "This is a nice place."

She shrank into the cabin.

"Come into the sun," he said, following her. She looked up at him with hostile, frightened eyes.

"Come into the sun," he repeated, taking her gently by the arm, in a powerful grasp.

She knew it was useless to rebel. Quietly he led her out, and seated himself in the doorway, holding her still by the arm.

"In the sun it is warm," he said. "Look, this is a nice place. You are such a pretty white woman, why do you want to act mean to me? Isn't this a nice place? Come! Come here! It is sure warm here."

Second, the battle of wills comes into full consciousness here. It is no longer subconscious.

He drew her to him, and in spite of her stony resistance, he took her cloak from her, holding her in her thin blue pyjamas.

"You sure are a pretty little white woman, small and pretty," he said. "You sure won't act mean to me--you don't want to, I know you don't."

She, stony and powerless, had to submit to him. The sun shone on her white, delicate skin.

"I sure don't mind hell fire," he said. "After this."

A queer, luxurious good humour seemed to possess him again. But though outwardly she was powerless, inwardly she resisted him, absolutely and stonily.

When later he was leaving her again, she said to him suddenly:

"You think you can conquer me this way. But you can't. You can never conquer me."
And she is correct, her will is "stony," hard. It's a strange paradox Lawrence has created, she being "stony and powerless," which is an unusual combination, but I do think the paradox is earned here. It could have come across as fake, but Lawrence is convincing, at least for me. And Romero's response is to attle her will; his masculinity is at stake.

He stood arrested, looking back at her, with many emotions conflicting in his face--wonder, surprise, a touch of horror, and an unconscious pain that crumpled his face till it was like a mask. Then he went out without saying a word, hung the dead deer on a bough, and started to flay it. While he was at this butcher's work, the sun sank and cold night came on again.

"You see," he said to her as he crouched, cooking the supper, "I ain't going to let you go. I reckon you called to me in the night, and I've some right. If you want to fix it up right now with me, and say you want to be with me, we'll fix it up now and go down to the ranch to-morrow and get married or whatever you want. But you've got to say you want to be with me. Else I shall stay right here, till something happens."

He's actually trying to find a solution that will satisfy both, marriage, a social institution but a religious one as well, though I think he considers they are married in a natural sort of way at this point. She doesn't see it that way. Marriage to her is his will overpowering hers:

"I don't want to be with anybody against my will. I don't dislike you; at least, I didn't, till you tried to put your will over mine. I won't have anybody's will put over me. You can't succeed. Nobody could. You can never get me under your will. And you won't have long to try, because soon they will send someone to look for me."
And he realizes that he cannot over come her will.

He could not conquer her, however much he violated her. Because her spirit was hard and flawless as a diamond. But he could shatter her. This she knew. Much more, and she would be shattered.
"Hard," a "diamond," Lawrence uses those metaphors for people's wills frequently. In The Plumed Serpent, Kate is hard but she utimately "melts." Dollie does no such thing. She is incapable of transfiguration. She is hard to the end. And that is the tragedy for Lawrence in this story. So Romero in order to preserve his manhood must take the events to where one of them will be smashed.

[Dark Muse]

I wonder just how powerless she really is though. Physically she might be powerless against him, but then she does not seem to be overly concerned with the physical. She is being kept prisoner, and yet in the end Romero is not gaining any true satisfaction from the arrangement either.

There is some power that the Princess can hold over him. For him it is not enough just to physically possess as he shows, he wants to "win" her over. He wants to make her admit that she likes being with him, that she wants to be with him. He is disturbed and wounded when she will not give him this. In a way she is keeping him prisoner there just as much as he keeps her.

While he physical holds here there, he refuses to relent and through her willful defiance of him he is bounded to stay instead of acknowledging that he cannot truly win over her. When he offers his compromise, she could easily have agreed to it, and then gotten away from him as soon as they returned to civilization, but she denies him because she refuses to give him even a false victory in return for her freedom.

She has the power of her inner demon. While Romero is physically stronger then she is. Her demon is stronger then his is. She holds his masculinity in her hands as much as he holds her life in his.

[Virgil]

Yes, very good D-M. Her will is certainly stronger, and perhaps Lawrence equates deomn with will. That is interesting and maybe a connection I never made. If you remember I asked what I thought he meant by demon.

[Dark Muse]

At first I was thinking demon was akin to soul, or something of that nature, but reading particuarly this section, it seems that demon could indeed be tied into Will, since both the idea of the demon and the idea of the Will play strong parts in this story.

[Janine]

Dark Muse, that is one of the best posts you ever wrote. I entirely agree with you. "In a way she is keeping him prisoner there just as much as he keeps her."...that's excellent. I do believe you are right there and also that demon is identified with the 'will'. I think that L used that word to describe his own 'will'. Now, more than this specific story, the idea makes perfect sense to me. This war of the wills is a recurrent theme in L's body of work. It begins with his own parents, both with strong wills set against each other; thus "Sons and Lovers". Throughout every book I have read, I think I can see this demon and this strong sense of 'will' between one or two of the characters...interesting.

Virgil, your post above was good, too. I liked some of the fine points you brought out directly related to the text. I will try and answer that one more specifically tomorrow. Going now to watch a film and relax a bit.

[Janine]

Next section.
Good, thanks for posting it.


Wow, I didn't realize how powerful this section was until now. Two things to highlight I think.

It is really powerful writing, isn't it? I thought it all throughout the accend to the summit.


First, his hunting of the deer shows his masculine and natural character. He brings back the deer and flays it. I wonder if the deer is meant to represent Dollie. But that may be a stretch, though the deer is a doe. But certainly he's master of the natural elements and she shows no dexterity at all and in fact is fearful. Interesting how he gets a certain power from the sun.

Yes, I totally agree with all you pointed out here...good observation. Perhaps since it is a doe it emphasis' his mastery over the female but don't think the flaying it quite so connected although I maybe wrong. Someone told me recently that 'knives' have sexual references; so if you think of it in that way; I guess this would fit the story.


Second, the battle of wills comes into full consciousness here. It is no longer subconscious.

Definitely the battle of wills...here it does indeed come into the consciousness.


And she is correct, her will is "stony," hard. It's a strange paradox Lawrence has created, she being "stony and powerless," which is an unusual combination, but I do think the paradox is earned here. It could have come across as fake, but Lawrence is convincing, at least for me. And Romero's response is to attle her will; his masculinity is at stake.

Yes, that is curious and yet it is a paradox and fits. I like the impression it conveys to the reader -"stony and powerless". I find it very convincing, but then I usually do believe Lawrence to be true in his writing, but I am prejudiced by now. So, Virgil, is his response to 'attle' her will? :lol: what does the word attle mean? Most certainly is masculinity is at stake and it is pretty much deflated abruptly with the rejection he feels in the morning.


He's actually trying to find a solution that will satisfy both, marriage, a social institution but a religious one as well, though I think he considers they are married in a natural sort of way at this point. She doesn't see it that way. Marriage to her is his will overpowering hers:
And he realizes that he cannot over come her will.

Very well stated; I fully agree.


"Hard," a "diamond," Lawrence uses those metaphors for people's wills frequently. In The Plumed Serpent, Kate is hard but she utimately "melts." Dollie does no such thing. She is incapable of transfiguration. She is hard to the end. And that is the tragedy for Lawrence in this story. So Romero in order to preserve his manhood must take the events to where one of them will be smashed.

Exactly, well stated!

Also, diamonds are formed out of carbon, right? carbon is coal, am I correct? Interesting since Lawrence came from the salt of the earth - his father being in the pits and a coal miner. It is like the carbon in the earth gives way to the hard diamond. I have to think further on this idea and just how that specifically relates to the story.

[Virgil]

"attle" is a special word, a typo for battle. ;)

[Janine]

"attle" is a special word, a typo for battle. ;)

Oh I thought it could be rattle, you know baby..wa wa! a 'rattle of the wills':lol: Who is the biggest baby here, he or she?;)

[Virgil]

Oh I thought it could be rattle, you know baby..wa wa! a 'rattle of the wills':lol: Who is the biggest baby here, he or she?;)

I am the biggest baby here, for sure. :D :D

[Janine]

I am the biggest baby here, for sure. :D :D

Yes, I had you in mind when I wrote that.:lol::lol::lol:

[Virgil]

Ok, the conclusion:


The next day he would not let her have any fire, because of attracting attention with the smoke. It was a grey day, and she was cold. He stayed round, and heated soup on the petrol stove. She lay motionless in the blankets.

And in the afternoon she pulled the clothes over her head and broke into tears. She had never really cried in her life. He dragged the blankets away and looked to see what was shaking her. She sobbed in helpless hysterics. He covered her over again and went outside, looking at the mountains, where clouds were dragging and leaving a little snow. It was a violent, windy, horrible day, the evil of winter rushing down.

She cried for hours. And after this a great silence came between them. They were two people who had died. He did not touch her any more. In the night she lay and shivered like a dying dog. She felt that her very shivering would rupture something in her body, and she would die.

At last she had to speak.

"Could you make a fire? I am so cold," she said, with chattering teeth.

"Want to come over here?" came his voice.

"I would rather you made me a fire," she said, her teeth knocking together and chopping the words in two.

He got up and kindled a fire. At last the warmth spread, and she could sleep.

The next day was still chilly, with some wind. But the sun shone. He went about in silence, with a dead-looking face. It was now so dreary and so like death she wished he would do anything rather than continue in this negation. If now he asked her to go down with him to the world and marry him, she would do it. What did it matter? Nothing mattered any more.

But he would not ask her. His desire was dead and heavy like ice within him. He kept watch around the house.

On the fourth day as she sat huddled in the doorway in the sun, hugged in a blanket, she saw two horsemen come over the crest of the grassy slope--small figures. She gave a cry. He looked up quickly and saw the figures. The men had dismounted. They were looking for the trail.

"They are looking for me," she said.

"Muy bien," he answered in Spanish.

He went and fetched his gun, and sat with it across his knees.

"Oh!" she said. "Don't shoot!"

He looked across at her.

"Why?" he said. "You like staying with me?"

"No," she said. "But don't shoot."

"I ain't going to Pen," he said.

"You won't have to go to Pen," she said. "Don't shoot!"

"I'm going to shoot," he muttered.

And straightaway he kneeled and took very careful aim. The Princess sat on in an agony of helplessness and hopelessness.

The shot rang out. In an instant she saw one of the horses on the pale grassy slope rear and go rolling down. The man had dropped in the grass, and was invisible. The second man clambered on his horse, and on that precipitous place went at a gallop in a long swerve towards the nearest spruce tree cover. Bang! Bang! went Romero's shots. But each time he missed, and the running horse leaped like a kangaroo towards cover.

It was hidden. Romero now got behind a rock; tense silence, in the brilliant sunshine. The Princess sat on the bunk inside the cabin, crouching, paralysed. For hours, it seemed, Romero knelt behind this rock, in his black shirt, bare-headed, watching. He had a beautiful, alert figure. The Princess wondered why she did not feel sorry for him. But her spirit was hard and cold, her heart could not melt. Though now she would have called him to her, with love.

But no, she did not love him. She would never love any man. Never! It was fixed and sealed in her, almost vindictively.

Suddenly she was so startled she almost fell from the bunk. A shot rang out quite close from behind the cabin. Romero leaped straight into the air, his arms fell outstretched, turning as he leaped. And even while he was in the air, a second shot rang out, and he fell with a crash, squirming, his hands clutching the earth towards the cabin door.

The Princess sat absolutely motionless, transfixed, staring at the prostrate figure. In a few moments the figure of a man in the Forest Service appeared close to the house; a young man in a broad-brimmed Stetson hat, dark flannel shirt, and riding-boots, carrying a gun. He strode over to the prostrate figure.

"Got you, Romero!" he said aloud. And he turned the dead man over. There was already a little pool of blood where Romero's breast had been.

"H'm!" said the Forest Service man. "Guess I got you nearer than I thought."

And he squatted there, staring at the dead man.

The distant calling of his comrade aroused him. He stood up.

"Hullo, Bill!" he shouted. "Yep! Got him! Yep! Done him in, apparently."

The second man rode out of the forest on a grey horse. He had a ruddy, kind face, and round brown eyes, dilated with dismay.

"He's not passed out?" he asked anxiously.

"Looks like it," said the first young man coolly.

The second dismounted and bent over the body. Then he stood up again, and nodded.

"Yea-a!" he said. "He's done in all right. It's him all right, boy! It's Domingo Romero."

"Yep! I know it!" replied the other.

Then in perplexity he turned and looked into the cabin, where the Princess squatted, staring with big owl eyes from her red blanket.

"Hello!" he said, coming towards the hut. And he took his hat off. Oh, the sense of ridicule she felt! Though he did not mean any.

But she could not speak, no matter what she felt.

"What'd this man start firing for?" he asked.

She fumbled for words, with numb lips.

"He had gone out of his mind!" she said, with solemn, stammering conviction.

"Good Lord! You mean to say he'd gone out of his mind? Whew! That's pretty awful! That explains it then. H'm!"

He accepted the explanation without more ado.

With some difficulty they succeeded in getting the Princess down to the ranch. But she, too, was not a little mad.

"I'm not quite sure where I am," she said to Mrs. Wilkieson, as she lay in bed. "Do you mind explaining?"

Mrs. Wilkieson explained tactfully.

"Oh yes!" said the Princess. "I remember. And I had an accident in the mountains, didn't I? Didn't we meet a man who'd gone mad, and who shot my horse from under me?"

"Yes, you met a man who had gone out of his mind."

The real affair was hushed up. The Princess departed east in a fortnight's time, in Miss Cummins's care. Apparently she had recovered herself entirely. She was the Princess, and a virgin intact.

But her bobbed hair was grey at the temples, and her eyes were a little mad. She was slightly crazy.

"Since my accident in the mountains, when a man went mad and shot my horse from under me, and my guide had to shoot him dead, I have never felt quite myself."

So she put it.

Later, she married an elderly man, and seemed pleased.

I'm going to let you guys comment first. I'm not sure I really have too many comments here. I've said everything about the story that I think needs to be said. This is the conclusion of the events. I'll probably drop one more post on the story. The conclusion I must admit seems like a western movie. But I don't think the form of a western movie had really yet been established in 1925.

Edit: Actually I will have comments, but maybe tomorrow. I didn't really care for the ending if you ask me.

[Janine]

Ok, the conclusion:

Yay! we might actually finish this story soon and maybe, just maybe, we can get to either another one - hopefully short or over to the 'Richard II' thread. I still have a grain of hope for that.


I'm going to let you guys comment first. I'm not sure I really have too many comments here. I've said everything about the story that I think needs to be said. This is the conclusion of the events. I'll probably drop one more post on the story. The conclusion I must admit seems like a western movie. But I don't think the form of a western movie had really yet been established in 1925.

Oh gee, thanks. I will try to comment tonight. I been kind of busy all day. I can't believe it is this late already. It is snowing here. Looks pretty.

Haha...it did indeed feel like a Western made for TV or film. Of course, it did have Lawrence's unique touch to it. Yes, perhaps the Westerns we recall as kids were not fully fleshed out until our era. They were big when I was growing up. Now they are rare or they are movies like 'Brokeback Mountain' - what can I say? Other than that, I only recall movies set in the South West into Mexico nowdays. I don't think Western books are big now either, or am I wrong?


Edit: Actually I will have comments, but maybe tomorrow. I didn't really care for the ending if you ask me.

Oh good. I will try to go directly to the text you posted and comment on parts of it that stood out to me particularly. Later tonight would be best for me. I have to go eat dinner soon.

[Dark Muse]

Well I already made my feelings about the ending clear early on, but I will wait for your comments perhaps before I talk more about that.

There are a few comments I had for now. Upon reading his segment of the story, and what took place and the events that led up to it, now it seems to me that in a way, they both had killed or "defeated" each other. Both of their demons were perhaps too strong, or too much alike that in the end the demons had slain each other.

By the end The Princess's will finally broke, and she would have submitted to his wishes, but by that time, Romero no longer had it within him to try and impose himself upon her anymore, just as he killed her will within her, she finally killed his desire in him. Though ironically even though they both end up having their way, by that time neither one of them can feel truly satisfied.

I did find it interesting how being that it was always Romero's physical prowess over her that was his greatest strength, his death ended up being a physical death, and while her will was her strength over him, her being left mad by the end, her will now shattered, was a sort of death for her.

Even though it claims


she had recovered herself entirely. She was the Princess, and a virgin intact.

She is still left not quite the same Princess any longer, and also interesting, that her "immortality" fades after this experience, the ending could be seen as a sort of death for her.


But her bobbed hair was grey at the temples, and her eyes were a little mad. She was slightly crazy.

She is showing signs of aging at last. And this description reminds me of the description given of her father at the beginning. I think it said something about his own eyes being a little crazy.

[Virgil]

Been snowing all day here and it took me a half hour longer than usual to get home. D-M, you make some fine observations. I don't remember what you had said about the ending. You might want to restate thoughts. I will think about what you've said as I relook at the ending. I'm just too exhausted to think coherently tonight.

[Dark Muse]

To sum it up in a nutshell, I thought the very last line in the ending took the power out of the story and felt like a "cop out" the typical "hollywood ending" I just felt that the story left me with a greater feeling of impact before that bit about her being married was thrown in at the end.

[Janine]

Well I already made my feelings about the ending clear early on, but I will wait for your comments perhaps before I talk more about that.

Dark Muse, I recall that and see that you stated it again after Virgil posted. I will have to read that part again also. I don't have a clear recollection of the actual ending at this time...we've been disgussing this story for sometime now, because of a slowpoke;).:lol: Just kidding with you, V....is there much snow up there? We are getting a nice coating here. I went out and took some photos. It was so pretty in my backyard - a real winter wonderland tonight - sticking to all the trees. I will put them into my computer soon and view how they came out. I think I got some good shots of the lake. It looks to me like we got about 5 or 6 inches of snow - the tree branches are totally coated; it is one of the prettiest night snowfalls I have ever seen before.


There are a few comments I had for now. Upon reading his segment of the story, and what took place and the events that led up to it, now it seems to me that in a way, they both had killed or "defeated" each other. Both of their demons were perhaps too strong, or too much alike that in the end the demons had slain each other.

I had noticed that part too just while reading the part of the text Virgil had posted. I thought the same exact way. I feel this story is a tragedy of sorts. No one wins at the end and like in "Hamlet" they all are killed off...slain.


By the end The Princess's will finally broke, and she would have submitted to his wishes, but by that time, Romero no longer had it within him to try and impose himself upon her anymore, just as he killed her will within her, she finally killed his desire in him. Though ironically even though they both end up having their way, by that time neither one of them can feel truly satisfied.

Well stated; I believe I do agree with this. It is indeed very ironical and no one is satisfied...that is completely true.


I did find it interesting how being that it was always Romero's physical prowess over her that was his greatest strength, his death ended up being a physical death, and while her will was her strength over him, her being left mad by the end, her will now shattered, was a sort of death for her.

They are both shattered and dead - one physically so and one spiritually so.


Even though it claims

she had recovered herself entirely. She was the Princess, and a virgin intact.

I think that Lawrence is being ironical in this statement. I feel that was his intention entirely. I don't see that she is recovered - only in a superficial sort of way and the same would apply to her 'viginal' state being 'intact'.


But her bobbedhair was grey at the temples, and her eyes were a little mad. She was slightly crazy.

Here Lawrence states honestly her true state of mind - 'a little mad and slightly crazy.' The two statements offset each other in my mind, making the first more ironic. She is far from ok within herself but appears the same to others; she hides the truth inside.


She is still left not quite the same Princess any longer, and also interesting, that her "immortality" fades after this experience, the ending could be seen as a sort of death for her.

Interesting about her 'immortatily' fading as well....all along she was the fairy princess who never ages or dies or experiences the ravages of life; now all of that illusion her father helped to create is meaningless and gone - like an evaporated vapour of a dreamworld. Reality has hit her and left her with only death within herself. She is indeed shattered and she could never be the 'same Princess any longer'.


She is showing signs of aging at last. And this description reminds me of the description given of her father at the beginning. I think it said something about his own eyes being a little crazy.

That seems appropriate to me - the aging part since nymphs and fairies and woodland princesses never age, as I said. Now she is in the real world of reality and she ages, probably faster from this ordeal than she would have normally. Also, doesn't she marry an older man? That also says a lot about how she now views herself. She saw herself as ageless before but now she is aged immediatedly after this ordeal - aged within her pysche.

That is a good parallel and reference to her father with his eyes being 'a little crazy.'

[Virgil]

The Princess sat on the bunk inside the cabin, crouching, paralysed. For hours, it seemed, Romero knelt behind this rock, in his black shirt, bare-headed, watching. He had a beautiful, alert figure. The Princess wondered why she did not feel sorry for him. But her spirit was hard and cold, her heart could not melt. Though now she would have called him to her, with love.

But no, she did not love him. She would never love any man. Never! It was fixed and sealed in her, almost vindictively.
I do think that sums the story up. She was hard and fixed and could not "melt."


The real affair was hushed up. The Princess departed east in a fortnight's time, in Miss Cummins's care. Apparently she had recovered herself entirely. She was the Princess, and a virgin intact.

But her bobbed hair was grey at the temples, and her eyes were a little mad. She was slightly crazy.

"Since my accident in the mountains, when a man went mad and shot my horse from under me, and my guide had to shoot him dead, I have never felt quite myself."

So she put it.

Later, she married an elderly man, and seemed pleased.
I too initially found this part of the ending troubling. But you know, I don't any longer. There has been a transfiguration after all. Her hair is now grey and she has restored her virginity and she is "slightly crazy." I'm not sure I care about that little tag to close it off, though I admit it fits. Little tags that are not part of the story I feel are best left off.

Amazing how many new insights I have gained reading this along with you two. Thanks. :) I'll address your comments tomorrow.

[Dark Muse]

I still personally dislike the fact that she was just married off at the end.

[Virgil]

There are a few comments I had for now. Upon reading his segment of the story, and what took place and the events that led up to it, now it seems to me that in a way, they both had killed or "defeated" each other. Both of their demons were perhaps too strong, or too much alike that in the end the demons had slain each other.

That is a brilliant observation. They do defeat each other. A wild stalemate.


By the end The Princess's will finally broke, and she would have submitted to his wishes, but by that time, Romero no longer had it within him to try and impose himself upon her anymore, just as he killed her will within her, she finally killed his desire in him. Though ironically even though they both end up having their way, by that time neither one of them can feel truly satisfied.
Yes both their wills broke, or perhaps neither. But certainly every physical part of them but the wills broke. It's as if their wills were all that's left of each other.


I did find it interesting how being that it was always Romero's physical prowess over her that was his greatest strength, his death ended up being a physical death, and while her will was her strength over him, her being left mad by the end, her will now shattered, was a sort of death for her.
Good point. I don't know how else lawrence could have ended the story. I guess they could have both lived, and that would have been unsatisfactory, or they could both have died. Somehow that's unsatisfactory too, but I guess that's arguable.


She is still left not quite the same Princess any longer, and also interesting, that her "immortality" fades after this experience, the ending could be seen as a sort of death for her.
Yes. D-M, you have made me reassess this ending. Thanks.


She is showing signs of aging at last. And this description reminds me of the description given of her father at the beginning. I think it said something about his own eyes being a little crazy.
Quite right. She has turned into her father after this experience.


To sum it up in a nutshell, I thought the very last line in the ending took the power out of the story and felt like a "cop out" the typical "hollywood ending" I just felt that the story left me with a greater feeling of impact before that bit about her being married was thrown in at the end.
I already gave my thoughts on that last line. I don't particularly like stories that add such a tag at the end. It does take away from the whole experience of the story.

[Janine]

Boo hoo, I am the only one that likes the ending and thinks it appropriate. I am the lone one out on this one. I guess we are done discussing this story.


Amazing how many new insights I have gained reading this along with you two. Thanks.

I certainly agree with this. I think we all put in sufficent and equal imput and learned from each other. This was one great discussion, even if it took us a few months - understandable, since it was a longer than normal story. In response, I too, thank both of you for all the fine insights.


I think a month off is in order. I will try to post some extraneous and interesting Lawrence material in the interum, thoughout the month. Then in March, we will start another story, ok with everyone? I have one picked out already, since it has a 'wintery' theme. We can just sqeeze it in before spring begins.

[Emmy Castrol]

I'm over eager for the next D.H. Lawrence short story! Which story will it be, Janine? Which ones of D.H. Lawrence's short stories have we already looked at in this thread? (The thought of going back and reading 178 pages is quite daunting!)

[Janine]

I'm over eager for the next D.H. Lawrence short story! Which story will it be, Janine? Which ones of D.H. Lawrence's short stories have we already looked at in this thread? (The thought of going back and reading 178 pages is quite daunting!)

So happy to see you here, Emmy! Welcome. I know you will love this thread and the discussions. I know what you mean....178 pages is a bit much to review....I told you it was a successful thread.:lol::)

I know which ones we read so far in my mind; but, I need to actually review those pages to compile a list. Sorry:( you were not here sooner; we did a lot of Lawrence's best stories. I had wanted to do "Wintery Peacock" but every month the discussion got pushed up another month and now is nearly spring, although it still could snow, who knows, right? Do you think it is too late to do a 'winter' story? It's a good one, with a great deal of charm and wit; I reviewed it a few weeks ago. I can review more 'possiblities' if you think it is too late, approaching spring, to do this particular one. I'll check out my books and see what other ones might be suggested. I will officially announce one on the weekend. I usually write up something short about the story and post a nice picture to depict the mood.

Usually, Virgil and Quark and Dark Muse take part, too; so I will let them know when I decide. Virgil might be too tied up with other threads presently, but we have some new people interested in Lawrence so I am willing to do a story this month.

[Virgil]

Janine, we should make list of the short stories we have already read. I can help you when I get back home. And perhaps we can choose another.

[MissScarlett]

I love Lawrence, too, Virgil, so whatever you discuss, I'll be happy to join the discussion.

[Janine]

I love Lawrence, too, Virgil, so whatever you discuss, I'll be happy to join the discussion.

Glad to see you here, too MissScarlett. If you review the last page, I spoke to Emmy, another newcomer to the thread. I am hoping my friend, Lynne50 can join in here, also. Virgil, I knew if I mentioned your name you would show up. You picked last time, so I was going to pick something by the weekend and post the introductory page, if that is ok with you. Is it too late to do "Wintery Peacock"? It is such an interesting story and amusing, too.:D If not, I will look further for a more spring-like theme, but I think we did the best spring ones so far. Let me know what you think. I want to do a short one this time. I can't commit to a long one, because I am in too many discussions this month already: "Richard II", "The Awakening", and maybe another Ibsen play, who knows; but three things will keep me hopping. Better forgo the Ibsen play till next month.
Do you think Quark and Dark Muse will participate, too?

Edit: just looked for "Wintery Peacock" online with no success; I guess it's back to the old drawing board. I will review other story possibilities in the next few days.

[Virgil]

I think Wintry Peacock is a great idea.

[Janine]

I think Wintry Peacock is a great idea.

Oh good, you just made my life a lot easier. Thanks, Virgil :) I did find it online at Guttenberg, Australia site. I will post the link once I officially announce it. They pretty much have all the Lawrence short story texts and the plays as well, not to mention the novels and the poems. I had this inclination to pick WP, even if it is now getting spring-like out and we are all in a spring mood. I am determined to discuss this story and we keep missing it year after year. I will officially announce it by Sunday. I have to look for a picture and also write a short introduction to the story.

[Virgil]

Can we still wait a couple of weeks Janine? I'm bogged down right now with a bunch of books.

[Janine]

Can we still wait a couple of weeks Janine? I'm bogged down right now with a bunch of books.

Virgil, sorry, but not really; we have anxious new participants and they will lose interest a few weeks from now and be into something else. I will go slowly posting hunks of text (promise) and I am sure you can catch up eventually. This isn't a very long story. You can read it pretty quickly; maybe on your plane ride home (that is, if you are flying). I have read it about 2 or 3 times, so far, myself. Come on now; this is an easy one. It is a lot easier than discussing Richard II.;) If you can't participate this month don't worry about it. You said to go ahead in Shakespeare. I want to go ahead with this for this month, since we have had this thread 'on hold' way too long. It got lost 4 pages back in the listings; I had to go hunting it again.

[Emmy Castrol]

I think Wintry Peacock sounds good too. I don't think I've read it so I'm excited to get into it. Glad to hear that Guttenburg has it.

If Virgil wants to wait a few weeks I don't mind. I've got a two week camping trip in Tasmania which I leave for this coming Easter Sunday so I will have limited internet access then!

[Janine]

I think Wintry Peacock sounds good too. I don't think I've read it so I'm excited to get into it. Glad to hear that Guttenburg has it.

If Virgil wants to wait a few weeks I don't mind. I've got a two week camping trip in Tasmania which I leave for this coming Easter Sunday so I will have limited internet access then!

Oh good Emmy, how about we do this then, since you and Virgil want to start 2 weeks from now. Lynne50 is going away too so it probably would be more feasible for her to wait as well. I will officially post the next story with a little write up and a nice picture tonight or tomorrow. Then we will all read it and maybe even re-read it and then we can start a few weeks from now; so this will allow you all extra time to be able to post your comments. We will take the story slowly and I will post parts as we go along, so we all can have a chance to comment on the specific text and symbolism. Now, reading ahead, will help us organise our thoughts and then we can actually tackle the text when we start a few weeks from now. If the discussion runs over the month's end, that will be fine. We can choose another shorter short story for next month, also.

Yes, isn't Project Guttenburg the greatest? I would suggest all of you to copy out the text of the story, while it is still available. I have it copied already to my own document file.

Virgil, what do you think? I can let Quark and Dark Muse know, too.

[Virgil]

Sounds good to me. :)

[Dark Muse]

That sounds good to me.

[MissScarlett]

I can wait, too. I'm reading The Awakening and collecting my thoughts on "Richard II," and I have plenty of "real life" work to do, too, so waiting a few weeks doesn't bother me. I'm just glad we can find the story online.

[Virgil]

I can wait, too. I'm reading The Awakening and collecting my thoughts on "Richard II," and I have plenty of "real life" work to do, too, so waiting a few weeks doesn't bother me. I'm just glad we can find the story online.

Scarlett - I believe you can find all of DH Lawrence's work here: http://gutenberg.net.au/pages/lawrence.html#shortstories. Or at least a large part.

[Janine]

Scarlett - I believe you can find all of DH Lawrence's work here: http://gutenberg.net.au/pages/lawrence.html#shortstories. Or at least a large part.

How funny, Virgil; You beat me to the draw. I just went to get that link; it's identical to yours, see:

http://gutenberg.net.au/pages/lawrence.html#shortstories

I had to hunt around the site for it since one place the short stories in limited to about 8. This other page has all of them. I think "Wintery Peacock" is in about the 3rd or 4th collection down.

Edit: if you go to this page there are various ways to download the file or copy the text. I tried the second HTML (zip) download and it worked perfectly.

http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/22477

[Janine]

Our next short story will be:

Wintry Peacock

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/LawrenceWintryPeacock-3.jpg

Literary connection

Two entries from Wikipedia

In late 1917, after constant harassment by the military authorities, Lawrence was forced to leave Cornwall at three days' notice under the terms of the Defence of the Realm Act (DORA). This persecution was later described in an autobiographical chapter of his Australian novel Kangaroo, published in 1923. He spent some months in early 1918 in the small, rural village of Hermitage near Newbury, Berkshire. He then lived for just under a year (mid-1918 to early 1919) at Mountain Cottage, Middleton-by-Wirksworth, Derbyshire, where he wrote one of his most poetic short stories, The Wintry Peacock. Until 1919 he was compelled by poverty to shift from address to address and barely survived a severe attack of influenza.

One of D. H. Lawrence's houses (Mountain Cottage), in which he lived
with Frieda in 1918-19, stands below the B5023 road on the outskirts of
Middleton-by-Wirksworth, approximately 1.5 mile NW of Wirksworth. Lawrence also reputedly spent a lot of time at Woodland Cottage on the opposite side of New Road. While staying in Middleton in the bitter winter of 1918-19, Lawrence wrote the short story A Wintry Peacock (published 1921).

Note: We will start this discussing this story 2 weeks from today. You can all start reading it; maybe jot down some notes or underline in your text. (see previous posts for links to the online text); but please, hold off posting, until all are gathered back here, in 2 weeks time. Thanks! I think you will all enjoy the irony and pastoral, poetic writing in this story. I found it very amusing. As they say "lost in translation.". You will know what I mean after reading this story.

[MissScarlett]

Scarlett - I believe you can find all of DH Lawrence's work here: http://gutenberg.net.au/pages/lawrence.html#shortstories. Or at least a large part.

Thank you, Virgil. I did find "Wintry Peacock," but not at that site. Many thanks for directing me to all of Lawrence's stories. They really need to bring out a Collected Works volume for his short stories.

Thanks to you, too, Janine. The introduction is lovely! :)

[Wilde woman]

Ooh, I'd like to participate! I haven't read any D.H. Lawrence but short stories and I only ran across those when studying for a lit test. I read "The Horse Dealer's Daughter" and "Odour of Chrysanthemums", the only two short stories of his to appear in my Norton Anthology.

Which book should I buy to follow along here?

[Dark Muse]

All the stories we discuss here can be found online. But you could buy the complete short stories of D.H. Lawrence, they come in three volumes. I currently have Volume 1 and 3 I think.

[Janine]

Ooh, I'd like to participate! I haven't read any D.H. Lawrence but short stories and I only ran across those when studying for a lit test. I read "The Horse Dealer's Daughter" and "Odour of Chrysanthemums", the only two short stories of his to appear in my Norton Anthology.

Which book should I buy to follow along here?

Glad to see you here, Wilde woman. Hope you can participate. The two stories youi mentioned are ones we discussed early on in this thread. You might go back in the pages and view the discussion on each. Both were great stories and wonderful discussions.

Getting the right books is the thing. As Dark Muse pointed out, there are three volumes which comprise Lawrence's complete short story set. I just looked on Amazon and you have to buy them second-hand or new at a hefty price. I had Volume 3 myself, for many years, and I had to purchase volumes 1,2 this way - used. There is another book listed with 47 of his stories, but the thing is it does not list which ones they are. If you go back a page here, in this thread, you will see links to the Project Guttenburg site, which has all his story texts available online. You can copy the story out and read it on your computer; that is another option. Good luck, whichever you decide on.

[shortstoryfan]

Well, since I am catching the beginning of this story discussion, I am going to participate. Hopefully I won't regret it....

[Janine]

Well, since I am catching the beginning of this story discussion, I am going to participate. Hopefully I won't regret it....

Glad to see you here, too, shortstoryfan; seems this thread was meant for you (user name) and I love your avy - that color of green is amazing - emerald! We decided not to actually start discussing the story until about the 20th of this month. In the meantime, the story is announced a page back, and everyone can start reading it and mull it over and get prepared. I don't think anyone much on this thread (and it has been active for a long time with many pages of comments/discussion) has ever gone away and regretted it. It will be great fun, I guarentee it! Glad to have you here and on the forum. So nice to see some new participants.


Thanks to you, too, Janine. The introduction is lovely!
Thanks MissScarlett, it is nice to be appreciated.

[Virgil]

Wow, this is the most we've ever had for a story. Should be fun. :D

[Janine]

Wow, this is the most we've ever had for a story. Should be fun. :D

That's what I thought, Virgil. Also, I knew the rooster would arrive soon, if I put the buzz in his ear! ;) :lol:I better get reading it for the upteenth time or maybe it's not necessary. I just have such a poor memory sometimes; might be better to just review the text as I go along...by now I know the story well.

[Dark Muse]

I have not had time to read the story yet, I have been too busy which school. I am going to try to get it done though.

[Janine]

I have not had time to read the story yet, I have been too busy which school. I am going to try to get it done though.

Good, but you still have plenty of time. It's not long at all and you can read it closer to discussion date which is the 20th; it's a fast one to read, and that is coming from me, the 'slow reader'.

Dark Muse luck with your studies!

[MissScarlett]

I've read the story and love it, and I am a slow reader, too. Wish I weren't at times, but at other times, I like to savor a book or story.

[Janine]

I've read the story and love it, and I am a slow reader, too. Wish I weren't at times, but at other times, I like to savor a book or story.

Exactly my own thoughts. In high school, you were forced to read quickly or you could not keep up. I think I skimmed most of my books and actually hated reading at the time; I don't recall a novel I read back then. Now I love reading, since I savor each word, passage. There is nothing wrong with 'slow readers' - once we got discussing that on the forum and you would be surprised how many admitted they were slow, so most likely we are the norm.

[Nossa]

Hello everyone :D

It's been ages since I posted on litnet...hopefully there are some people who still remember me..lol
What's the new story, Janine? I can't find its name in the pages.

I might join in, just after giving the story a read.

[MissScarlett]

Hello everyone :D

It's been ages since I posted on litnet...hopefully there are some people who still remember me..lol
What's the new story, Janine? I can't find its name in the pages.

I might join in, just after giving the story a read.

I see Janine's offline now, but she chose "The Wintry Peacock."

[Janine]

Thanks, MissScarlett for giving Nossa the information. I will repost the introduction since there seems to be a little confusion.

Our next short story will be:

Wintry Peacock

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/LawrenceWintryPeacock-3.jpg

Literary connection

Two entries from Wikipedia

In late 1917, after constant harassment by the military authorities, Lawrence was forced to leave Cornwall at three days' notice under the terms of the Defence of the Realm Act (DORA). This persecution was later described in an autobiographical chapter of his Australian novel Kangaroo, published in 1923. He spent some months in early 1918 in the small, rural village of Hermitage near Newbury, Berkshire. He then lived for just under a year (mid-1918 to early 1919) at Mountain Cottage, Middleton-by-Wirksworth, Derbyshire, where he wrote one of his most poetic short stories, The Wintry Peacock. Until 1919 he was compelled by poverty to shift from address to address and barely survived a severe attack of influenza.

One of D. H. Lawrence's houses (Mountain Cottage), in which he lived
with Frieda in 1918-19, stands below the B5023 road on the outskirts of
Middleton-by-Wirksworth, approximately 1.5 mile NW of Wirksworth. Lawrence also reputedly spent a lot of time at Woodland Cottage on the opposite side of New Road. While staying in Middleton in the bitter winter of 1918-19, Lawrence wrote the short story A Wintry Peacock (published 1921).

Note: We will start this discussing this story the 20th of April, Monday. You can all start reading it; maybe jot down some notes or underline in your text. (see previous posts for links to the online text); but please, hold off posting, until all are gathered back here, in 2 weeks time. Thanks! I think you will all enjoy the irony and pastoral, poetic writing in this story. I found it very amusing. As they say "lost in translation.". You will know what I mean after reading this story.

[Nossa]

I see Janine's offline now, but she chose "The Wintry Peacock."

Thank you so much :D

[Janine]

Thank you so much :D

Nossa, now we flipped pages again. My introduction is posted on the page before this. Hope you saw it; it gave some background information on the story.

[Dark Muse]

I finally got to read the story and ugh.....I really really really did not like it.

I did not think it was particularly good, I found it really quite pointless, and I am use it will not surprsie anyone that I disliked virtually all of the characaters.

[Virgil]

Oh no. I can't find my Lawrence short story volumes. :( I will have to keep looking. Janine, do you know if it's in volume II or III?

[MissScarlett]

Oh no. I can't find my Lawrence short story volumes. :( I will have to keep looking. Janine, do you know if it's in volume II or III?

I think it's in the one with "England, My England," Virgil. I had the books at school, but no more. :bawling:

[Virgil]

I think it's in the one with "England, My England," Virgil. I had the books at school, but no more. :bawling:

That's an original collection of stories that Lawrence put out in his life time. His stories were all collected posthumously in three volumes. I was asking which volume Wintry Peacock was in. Both Janine and I have all three volumes.

[MissScarlett]

Oh, then I do not know, I'm sorry. I wish I did because then I'd have the volumes, too, but I don't.

[Janine]

That's an original collection of stories that Lawrence put out in his life time. His stories were all collected posthumously in three volumes. I was asking which volume Wintry Peacock was in. Both Janine and I have all three volumes.

Virgil, it's in Volume II but the link for the online text is here listed in the thread for Guttenburg...all the short stories are there.

Dark Muse, if you did not like the story, a simple solution might be for you to merely drop out of the discussion this month, instead of wasting anymore time on a story you don't really care for. Afterall, we can't all have the same tastes in literature. Maybe the next one you will like better. Sorry you did not care for it and felt you wasted your time to read it. Happens to us all from time to time. I liked the story and several others who read it enjoyed it. That is of course personal preference and what makes us all unique beings.

[Dark Muse]

hahaha, is that your way of telling me not to crash the party.

You are probably already anticipating the poetential arguments.

[Janine]

hahaha, is that your way of telling me not to crash the party.

You are probably already anticipating the poetential arguments.

No, I was serious. I am not afraid of potential disagreements or debating at all, but the point is.... and I will requote your post:


ugh.....I really really really did not like it.

I did not think it was particularly good, I found it really quite pointless, and I am use it will not surprsie anyone that I disliked virtually all of the characaters.

..if I felt this strongly against a story I read, I would simply not waste any more time on it; wouldn't that be advantageous to you? I know I have a lot better things to do then waste my time on novels or stories, I don't really care for. I was being totally honest with you, Dark Muse. You said "I really really really" did not like it. I you expressed yourself pretty explicitly, which is good. We are not all going to like the same stories.

[Dark Muse]

I was only teasing, becasue I know I have been difficult in the past particuarly about certain characters

[Janine]

I was only teasing, becasue I know I have been difficult in the past particuarly about certain characters

No, Dark Muse, I didn't know you were teasing. My thoughts on it were that when posting something so emphatically negative prior to the discussion, the newer participants may lose interest in attempting this story. I have taken considerable time to direct newcomers to this thread recently. Others have told me they did like this story (you know it's never easy to pick one), so it's good to keep judgemental or difficult opinions to one's self, until the discussion really gets rolling; otherwise, there is a lot of confusion. If I read a Poe story, came into the thread before the discussion began, and said I 'hated it, it was an awful story' I don't think you would take kindly to my remarks either. I hope you understand where I am coming from on this. I would just like to give others the chance to judge the story on their own. The formal discussion does not start until next Monday since Virgil requested that date.

[Dark Muse]

I think a person ought to be able to judge a story on thier own no matter what another persons perosnal opinon is. We are all inteligent people here I presume. I do not think me having an aversion to the story is going to affect someone elses ablity to judge for themselves. The kind of person that just follows the opinions of others would not make for very engaging discussion anyway.

[Nossa]

Nossa, now we flipped pages again. My introduction is posted on the page before this. Hope you saw it; it gave some background information on the story.

Thank you, Janine, I did see it :D. And I'll start reading the story today hopefully.

[MissScarlett]

I hope you like as much as I did, Nossa. I found it delightful in several different ways. I get into why more once the discussion begins. :)

[Janine]

Thank you, Janine, I did see it :D. And I'll start reading the story today hopefully.

Why you are welcome,Nossa,...glad to see you here and able to participate. I always love to read your posts. I have missed you lately around the forum; maybe we have just been on different threads. Enjoy your reading!


I hope you like as much as I did, Nossa. I found it delightful in several different ways. I get into why more once the discussion begins.

MissScarlett, I found it delightful variously, as well; will be interested in reading your comments. I can't wait now for the discussion. It's always fun; we have been idle here (this thread) for too long. It will be good to get back to discussing Lawrence.

...and Quark, Chekhov too, in the near furture!

[Janine]

I propose putting this discussion off one day; I am not feeling well today; also, I need to go to an important meeting tonight. It is raining here and pretty miserable. Tomorrow/tomorrow evening would be best for me. I will be better prepared. Hope you understand and don't mind the delay. It really can't be helped. Thanks all!

[Virgil]

Well, what do we do now that MissS is gone? I still can't find my edition and putting this off a few days would be a nice idea.

[Janine]

Well, what do we do now that MissS is gone? I still can't find my edition and putting this off a few days would be a nice idea.

Ok, let's do that. Nossa emailed me that she could not do this story this month either. I am thrown off-beat myself; so lets plan on starting by the weekend. I will post something Friday night. Sorry everyone for the delay. Virgil, you seem to lose everything! Can't you just read the story from the Guttenburg site online? When I post sections of text, you can better review them and comment.

[BienvenuJDC]

Maybe I can catch up and jump in here...I've wanted to read something to discuss...
Where are you guys at...and maybe this week I can start reading...

[Janine]

Maybe I can catch up and jump in here...I've wanted to read something to discuss...
Where are you guys at...and maybe this week I can start reading...

That would be great, Bienvenu, we are not too far; we keep pushing this up a bit; as you probably noticed above. I announced the story twice now; I believe a page or two back. You will find it easily, if you look for the composite picture and the lettering, which is in bold faced type, accompanied by a brief summary background. You can find the full text online; not a long short story at all. The Guttenburg site is also listed in this thread, probably a page back. Any problems locating these, let me know. Our Lawrence discussions are always interesting, learning experiences and fun; also we need participants this month, so it's nice to have you join in. We will probably start discussion on Friday. I will post some part of the first section Friday so we can get started.

[jinjang]

Just out of curiosity, seeing it soon to be discussed here, I read the short story yesterday night. I will join you when you all are ready.

[Janine]

Just out of curiosity, seeing it soon to be discussed here, I read the short story yesterday night. I will join you when you all are ready.

Wonderful; we like to hear that new members will join in this discussion group. I look forward to it. It should start on Friday night. I hope to post some text to get us all started, discussing first impressions, key words/phrases, symbolism, etc. See you then....and....

Welcome to the forum jinjang! I like your user name; it's interesting.

[BienvenuJDC]

I've got the story downloaded...and I started to read it...but that's impossible with two little around and mommy at work. So I'm gonna take 1/2 an hour now... I'm looking forward to talking about it.

[Quark]

It's going to be a couple of weeks before I can join in, but once the semester ends here I'll read the story. Which is it, by the way?

[Janine]

I've got the story downloaded...and I started to read it...but that's impossible with two little around and mommy at work. So I'm gonna take 1/2 an hour now... I'm looking forward to talking about it.

Good to hear, Bienvenu, I do my reading between things, too, like laundry and watching movies; I am chronic movie watcher. I actually, read this story 3 times by now. It will be easy to follow, since we don't jump ahead; we take it step by step, always works out well that way.


It's going to be a couple of weeks before I can join in, but once the semester ends here I'll read the story. Which is it, by the way?

Quark, oh you and Virgil are something else this month. He says he still can't locate his books....*groan*...I told him to just read it from online. It's not a difficult story this time. It reads pretty quickly. I will post the introduction page one more time for all you newbies and oldbies! haha:lol:

[Janine]

Our next short story will be:

Wintry Peacock

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/Lawrence/LawrenceWintryPeacock-3.jpg

Literary connection

Two entries from Wikipedia

In late 1917, after constant harassment by the military authorities, Lawrence was forced to leave Cornwall at three days' notice under the terms of the Defence of the Realm Act (DORA). This persecution was later described in an autobiographical chapter of his Australian novel Kangaroo, published in 1923. He spent some months in early 1918 in the small, rural village of Hermitage near Newbury, Berkshire. He then lived for just under a year (mid-1918 to early 1919) at Mountain Cottage, Middleton-by-Wirksworth, Derbyshire, where he wrote one of his most poetic short stories, The Wintry Peacock. Until 1919 he was compelled by poverty to shift from address to address and barely survived a severe attack of influenza.

One of D. H. Lawrence's houses (Mountain Cottage), in which he lived
with Frieda in 1918-19, stands below the B5023 road on the outskirts of
Middleton-by-Wirksworth, approximately 1.5 mile NW of Wirksworth. Lawrence also reputedly spent a lot of time at Woodland Cottage on the opposite side of New Road. While staying in Middleton in the bitter winter of 1918-19, Lawrence wrote the short story A Wintry Peacock (published 1921).

You can find the full text here:
http://gutenberg.net.au/pages/lawren...l#shortstories

I had to hunt around the site for it since one place the short stories in limited to about 8. This other page has all of them. I think "Wintery Peacock" is in about the 3rd or 4th collection down.

Edit: if you go to this page there are various ways to download the file or copy the text. I tried the second HTML (zip) download and it worked perfectly.

http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/22477

Note: We will start this discussing this story the Friday night - the 24th. You can all start reading it; maybe jot down some notes or underline in your text. (see previous posts for links to the online text); but please, hold off posting, until all are gathered back here together. Thanks! I think you will all enjoy the irony and pastoral, poetic writing in this story. I found it very amusing. As they say "lost in translation.". You will know what I mean after reading this story.

[Virgil]

I finally found my book. I will probably read it over the weekend.

[BienvenuJDC]

I finally found my book. I will probably read it over the weekend.

VIRGIL!!??!!?? Over the weekend??? ...I read it today... :D

It wasn't that long. Did I read the right thing? I copied it into a word document so that I could format it for easier reading. The word count was 5,818 words. Does this sound like it?

SPOILER ALERT (Do not read if you haven't read it and want to be surprised)
Man reads letter...translates alternate version...becomes a hero...and the story ends with a conversation between two men...

Is that the story in its entirety?

I'll read it again tomorrow...

[Dark Muse]

SPOILER ALERT (Do not read if you haven't read it and want to be surprised)
Man reads letter...translates alternate version...becomes a hero...and the story ends with a conversation between two men...

Is that the story in its entirety?

I'll read it again tomorrow...

Well the hero part is questionable but yeah that pretty much wraps the story up in a nutshell, you did not miss anything.

[BienvenuJDC]

Well the hero part is questionable

Hero to Joey...

[Dark Muse]

Ahh yes, Joey was my favorite character in the story

[Janine]

VIRGIL!!??!!?? Over the weekend??? ...I read it today... :D

It wasn't that long. Did I read the right thing? I copied it into a word document so that I could format it for easier reading. The word count was 5,818 words. Does this sound like it?

SPOILER ALERT (Do not read if you haven't read it and want to be surprised)
Man reads letter...translates alternate version...becomes a hero...and the story ends with a conversation between two men...

Is that the story in its entirety?

I'll read it again tomorrow...

:lol: Bien, that is really funny! I love your synopsis and you are right,.....
for heaven sakes Virgil, will you stop your whinning and read the story! It is a super short one this time. I picked a short one purposely; and with your full schedule in-mind. I read the story 3 times over, by now.

I am glad to see that you read it already, Bienvenu...and thanks for putting 'spoiler' in front of your synopsis. I agree with Dark Muse; don't think anyone is a true hero; but we can discuss that when we get to it. He did save little Joey. I agree, Dark Muse, I loved Joey the best; maybe, he is the hero and maybe, that is the point; the birds have more common sense than the people! :D haha....this should be a fun one to discuss; not so heavy and serious, as some of the others.

Bien, I also copy the text into my document file; sometimes change the type style, break up into more paragraphs for easy purusing.

[BienvenuJDC]

Bien, I also copy the text into my document file; sometimes change the type style, break up into more paragraphs for easy purusing.

:lol::lol:

Janine!!
You are showing your age. :p You said "Change the type style" as if it were type set in the old newspaper press. These days the youngins don't know what "type" is...;) It's called font now!!

[Janine]

:lol::lol:

Janine!!
You are showing your age. :p You said "Change the type style" as if it were type set in the old newspaper press. These days the youngins don't know what "type" is...;) It's called font now!!

No use denying it! Thanks for setting me straight, Bien....:lol: And, yes, I recall those antique 'type' drawers, too. I happen to own two! I was always going to hang them and display with small collectables; but who needs the dusting at my 'antique' age, right? :lol: And I should certainly know about 'fonts', since I am an artist, a graphic artist for many years.....but you are right; I date back to the dark ages, when I actually learned to type 'type' on a manual 'type'-writer; can you youngins imagine that?;) I still own one of those monsters machines, which I picked up at a yard-sale, thinking it was nostalgic. Afterall, what do you think these short stories of L's were written on? That's right, a manual type writer! I have an actual photo of Lawrence's typewriter. Of course, he didn't take kindly to it at first, rather liked handwriting the stories out on scrapes of paper, napkins, etc.; then he had a typist who got on his wife's nerves to the point of jealousy. One of the stories in this very thread was based on this person; and it was not kind to her image.

Glad you brought up my age and the matter of 'type' vs. 'font' so I could provide all of you with those little tidbits above! :D

[Virgil]

I'll try to read it tonight. *drags his heals and mopes for being scolded* ;)

[Janine]

I'll try to read it tonight. *drags his heals and mopes for being scolded* ;)

;) Works everytime............:lol:.....thanks V!

[Dark Muse]

::D haha....this should be a fun one to discuss; not so heavy and serious, as some of the others.


It might not be serious, but I found it more irritating than amusing. Still haven't decided if I am going to particpate in the discussion or not, since I will probably just prove to be antagonistic.

[BienvenuJDC]

I didn't find it that annoying. I think that one can get too caught up in there own perspective. It is good to listen to others' thoughts before getting too wound up. But we'll wait until the discussion begins...

[Dark Muse]

Well I am a person who forms very strong opinions, I am often debating with someone about characters in these discussions.

[jinjang]

Welcome to the forum jinjang! I like your user name; it's interesting.

First of all, thank you for your welcome message.
You like my user name? Jin means soothing and Jang means generosity. My father made a mistake in my birth certificate: while he meant Jin with the meaning of truth, he added accidentally another block, which changed the meaning to soothing. I am a chamomile tea, henceforth.

I see you haven't started the discussion on the book?!?

[Janine]

First of all, thank you for your welcome message.
You like my user name? Jin means soothing and Jang means generosity. My father made a mistake in my birth certificate and he meant Jin with the meaning of truth, but added accidentally another block, which changed the meaning to soothing. I am a chamomile tea, henceforth.

I see you haven't started the discussion on the book?!?

Now that is so interesting, jinjang; I would love to have a name that means 'soothing and generosity'. Yes, chamomile tea is 'soothing' indeed, and you can drink 'generous' amounts of it, since it is decafeinated! How funny a story of your father's mixup at birth.

YES, discussion will officially begin tomorrow evening. I have to go out in the daytime tomorrow. I may decide to post tonight (after 12AM my time USA EST), just the first part of the text, so you all can start discussing it. I may decide to do so, since it is ready to go. This way, I can get your impressions of the first few paragraphs - the introduction of the setting and the peacocks; then I can comment on it later that evening; then post more for the next day.

Note: I noticed when downloading the text from Guttenburg, it did not break the text up into paragraphs; is anyone having problems with that? It may just be my own Works program which transposed it that way. I don't have Word on my new computer. They expect to make more money on you that way and have you buy it I guess. So far I am getting along just fine with Work, but Word is much better. Anywa, I did break it up manually by referring to my actual book. It makes it much easier to keep the dialogue/characters straight.

[Janine]

Posting the first paragraph, so we can get started discussions.

I thought of your first impressions while reading this; note how beautifully poetic, painterly, and rhythmic Lawrence's prose is and how he sets the scene for the story, introducing the wintery peacocks, and comparing them to the color of the sky in winter (blue). I like the way he describes the birds "their bodies moved with slow motion, like small, light, flat-bottomed boat"; then he adds this impression "Then a gust of wind caught them, heeled them over as if they were three frail boats opening their feathers like ragged sails." I love the way he compared them to boats with sails; clever. I also loved the use of the word filigree, to describe the snow. I find the word 'indifferent' stands out and makes me wonder about this scene with the wildlife; is he saying nature is indifferent? Are the birds symbolic in other ways? In their fraility maybe?


WINTRY PEACOCK

There was thin, crisp snow on the ground, the sky was blue, the wind very cold, the air clear. Farmers were just turning out the cows for an hour or so in the midday, and the smell of cow-sheds was unendurable as I entered Tible. I noticed the ash-twigs up in the sky were pale and luminous, passing into the blue. And then I saw the peacocks. There they were in the road before me, three of them, and tailless, brown, speckled birds, with dark-blue necks and ragged crests. They stepped archly over the filigree snow, and their bodies moved with slow motion, like small, light, flat-bottomed boats. I admired them, they were curious. Then a gust of wind caught them, heeled them over as if they were three frail boats opening their feathers like ragged sails. They hopped and skipped with discomfort, to get out of the draught of the wind. And then, in the lee of the walls, they resumed their arch, wintry motion, light and unballasted now their tails were gone, indifferent. They were indifferent to my presence. I might have touched them. They turned off to the shelter of an open shed.


Edit: I meant to say last night, that I will post more of the text later on tonight, when I return home from my appointment, dinner and some errands out. I realise this is only a short bit of text, but still I think it is very well written and a good introduction to the story.

[BienvenuJDC]

No use denying it! Thanks for setting me straight, Bien....:lol: And, yes, I recall those antique 'type' drawers, too. I happen to own two! I was always going to hang them and display with small collectibles; but who needs the dusting at my 'antique' age, right? :lol: And I should certainly know about 'fonts', since I am an artist, a graphic artist for many years.....but you are right; I date back to the dark ages, when I actually learned to type 'type' on a manual 'type'-writer; can you youngins imagine that?;) I still own one of those monsters machines, which I picked up at a yard-sale, thinking it was nostalgic. After all, what do you think these short stories of L's were written on? That's right, a manual type writer! I have an actual photo of Lawrence's typewriter. Of course, he didn't take kindly to it at first, rather liked handwriting the stories out on scrapes of paper, napkins, etc.; then he had a typist who got on his wife's nerves to the point of jealousy. One of the stories in this very thread was based on this person; and it was not kind to her image.

Glad you brought up my age and the matter of 'type' vs. 'font' so I could provide all of you with those little tidbits above! :D

'Tis funny...my mother DID have a Type drawer, and USED it to display collectibles. It may still be up at the house. She mainly collected miniaturized items. I remember when I picked up a couple of wire nuts and commented on how they looked just like a set of salt-n-pepper shakers. She put them in there! In the Disney cartoon Ben & Me, Amos helped pick out the type letters. It must have been an interest job to work at the newspaper O so many years ago.

My next post shall be directed to discussion of the story...;)

[BienvenuJDC]

Let us read with our five senses:
(SHiFTS)
See it -
There was thin, crisp snow on the ground, (There is not a lot of snow on the ground. Walking among the farms would not be overly difficult, even if the temperatures were colder)
the sky was blue, (clear skies, no sign of precipitation)
the ash-twigs up in the sky were pale and luminous (the term pale adds to the state of Europe and its lifelessness)
then I saw the peacocks (the males in particular are known for their glorious majesty especially in the colorful fan of their tails)
tailless, brown, speckled birds, (not a specimen of their typical glory)
with dark-blue necks and ragged crests. (very much a symbol of post war Europe)
three frail boats opening their feathers like ragged sails (the words frail and ragged again points to the current state of Europe)
the filigree snow (a reference describing the artistic nature of the snow)
slow motion, like small, light, flat-bottomed boats (author describes the smooth motions)
They hopped and skipped with discomfort, to get out of the draught of the wind...(further note concerning the struggle that the peacocks were enduring, I believe is symbolic of the struggle for the recovery that Europe is beginning as the war is coming to a close and people are returning to their normal lives).

Hear it
a gust of wind (listen to the sound of the wind)


Feel it
the wind very cold, the air clear
for an hour or so in the midday (why for such a short time…cold?)

Taste it
The author gives no explicit reference to taste description


Smell it
the smell of cow-sheds was unendurable

[jinjang]

Please excuse me if I seem a little out of tune with you since I have never seriously participated in literature discussions.

I agree with Janine how beautiful the initial scene descriptions are. It was illustrative and vivid as if I am seeing everything portrayed there. I so miss snow as it reminds me of my home country as Joey does Maggie her home.

Peacocks’ trouble seems to give us the preview of Alfred and Maggie’s skirmish. The gust of wind could be the fight between the couple. The narrator was “curious” to the peacocks as to the Goytes.

“They hopped and skipped with discomfort” parallels with Maggie “brooded,” cried as insinuated with her red nose; “Alfred had a devil-may-care bearing;” Maggie and Alfred had been in “heavy weather” for the last two days.

He saves Joey as he saves the couple’s marriage and restores their life back to normalcy, the normalcy I personally would not wish for because I'd rather know the whole truth. Maggie showed some signs of awareness to the possibility that the narrator might have told her a lie. She may have simply decided to bear with the obscure doubt to live in peace. The cloud may never completely clear as she lives with suspicion.

The narrator “ceased to exist” for Maggie may pair with the birds’ indifference. “And then, in the lee of the walls, they resumed their arch, wintry motion, light and unballasted now their tails were gone, indifferent. They were indifferent to my presence."

My favorite quote is “Her gloomy black eyes softened caressively to me for a moment, with that momentary humility which makes a man lord of the earth.” I should learn those eyes to get what I want.:)

I wonder if Alfred was jealous of Joey because he sought his wife's affection despite his infidelity or because the bird symbolizes her nostalgia for her "affectionate" home. What is with those "strapping and virile" men who can't be faithful to their wives? Does a war excuse those behaviors?

My favorite character was the father-in-law. Here is my contradiction:I feel the same way with Alfred toward the bird who was interfering innocently.

[Dark Muse]

He saves Joey as he saves the couple’s marriage and restores their life back to normalcy, the normalcy I personally would not wish for because I'd rather know the whole truth. Maggie showed some signs of awareness to the possibility that the narrator might have told her a lie. She may have simply decided to bear with the obscure doubt to live in peace. The cloud may never completely clear as she lives with suspicion.

I do not think he truly saved thier marriage, nor do I think it was his intent to try and do so. I think it more of just a "guy" thing, they were both men so he was going to cove up for him becasue he did not want to betray the husband even though he did not know him. And I hardly thing after this he is suddenly going to become a dedicated husband. The end shows he really has not changed at all, and they are laughing at how clever they think they are and how stupid they think she is.



I wonder if Alfred was jealous of Joey because he sought his wife's affection despite his infidelity or because the bird symbolizes her nostalgia for her "affectionate" home. What is with those "strapping and virile" men who can't be faithful to their wives? Does a war excuse those behaviors?

Joey is more worthy of Maggie's affection than the husband is. I think he is jealous of the bird because he is a small petty man. She would be better off if she left Alfred and ran away with Joey. I do not think anything excuses his behavior.

[Janine]

Let us read with our five senses:
(SHiFTS)
See it -
There was thin, crisp snow on the ground, (There is not a lot of snow on the ground. Walking among the farms would not be overly difficult, even if the temperatures were colder)
the sky was blue, (clear skies, no sign of precipitation)
the ash-twigs up in the sky were pale and luminous (the term pale adds to the state of Europe and its lifelessness)
then I saw the peacocks (the males in particular are known for their glorious majesty especially in the colorful fan of their tails)
tailless, brown, speckled birds, (not a specimen of their typical glory)
with dark-blue necks and ragged crests. (very much a symbol of post war Europe)
three frail boats opening their feathers like ragged sails (the words frail and ragged again points to the current state of Europe)
the filigree snow (a reference describing the artistic nature of the snow)
slow motion, like small, light, flat-bottomed boats (author describes the smooth motions)
They hopped and skipped with discomfort, to get out of the draught of the wind...(further note concerning the struggle that the peacocks were enduring, I believe is symbolic of the struggle for the recovery that Europe is beginning as the war is coming to a close and people are returning to their normal lives).

Hear it
a gust of wind (listen to the sound of the wind)


Feel it
the wind very cold, the air clear
for an hour or so in the midday (why for such a short time…cold?)

Taste it
The author gives no explicit reference to taste description


Smell it
the smell of cow-sheds was unendurable

Wow, I went out today and came home to find two long posts already; I am impressed with you two, Bien and jinjang....and Virgil is probably still reading the story! ;):lol: just kidding Virg.

I will start with Bienvenu, I like the way you took each line for each sense and then designated each significant words or phrases into italics. We often do that on this thread (by either italics or bold-face type). I like the way you pointed out just what we sense in this one short paragraph; indeed Lawrence does more than merely write with words. He was a true artist and paints with all the senses. He makes you feel the wind, the cold, the sun, the wind, the rain, the snow, etc. He causes one to imagine the odors in the air, to hear the wind, feel the cold - experience it all. This I think is the magic of reading Lawrence.He takes you on the same journey with the narrator as he experiences this environment. The direct link to all the aspects of the natural world is typically seen in all of Lawrence‘s work, much as it is in Thomas Hardy, one of Lawrence‘s influences. I agree with you on the references to the current state of Europe and the war; in Lawrences’s Women in Love, war is not mentioned and yet one has the sense of the war in the background of the novel in other ways. Lawrence talks about this in his own forward to the novel. In the same way, this story suggests struggle, both universal and between the characters, as it did in WIL. I also believe the peacocks are personally symbolic to Lawrence himself since the winter he wrote this story he had just recovered from a severe bout with pneumonia, which he nearly died of; therefore, I am sure he would feel a great affinity to Joey and even to the other peacocks stuggling along in the snow and against the wind. If you go back and read my introduction and the notes you will see that Lawrence was forced to survive the winter with his wife in this remote part of England; the going back then had to be rough for him, considering his bad health. He longed at this point, to leave England and live in a warmer, sunnier, drier climate. I am not sure if you are aware, that Lawrence suffered all his life with bad lungs and died at the early age of 42 of TB. While he and his wife were living in Cornwall, he was forced also to go before the military medical board for several very humiliating physicals, to see if he was fit to serve. Then when finally driven out of Cornwall, because Lawrence and his German born wife were suspected of spying, he harbored much recentment, to say the least. Of course, the spy accusations were false. His poor health kept him from ever being drafted; but his humiliation and bitterness stayed with him till the end of his days. He wrote about these experiences in his next full length “Kangaroo”, after leaving England and residing for a time in Australia. So although the war in only briefly mentioned in this story I am sure you are right pointing out the subtext and the suggestion of the unrest in Europe at this time; that would have been very much on the author’s mind personally.

Bien, you have made some very good observations. You pointed out things, I had not previously considered; ha and I have read the story 3 or 4 times! ;)This first simplistic, yet beautiful paragragh says more than it appears to and is illustrates so well the natural setting for the story.

Now, I see that Dark Muse has commented on your post, jinjang, as I was commenting on this post. I will also quote what you wrote and comment after I post this.

[jinjang]

I thought like you, Dark Muse, at first, but I reread the whole story and I decided to give everyone a benefit of doubt. There I searched signs of the narrator's good intentions.

When she embarrassingly said that she did not remember any French learned at school, he said, "No good keeping your mind full of scraps," being agreeable and trying to smooth her embarrassment. Of course, he knew he was "being cajoled" and he put his defense alert. He may have also been attracted by Maggie: "I thought of ... the black witch-like little Mrs. Goyte. And the snow seemed to lay me bare to influences I wanted to escape."

"Therefore I read with a callous heart the effusions of the Belgian Damsel. But then I gathered my attention." Observe the word "but." He also expressed the reluctance by saying, "It's rather behind his back."

He took a good care of Joey. He apparently eased Maggie's mind because she became "flushed and handsome" and "complacent and satisfied" instead of her sallow face when she asked him to read the letter. The narrator definitely gets sympathy and agreement with the father-in-law, listening to his words: "What's good o'makkin' a peck o' trouble over what's far enough off, an' ned niver come no nigher. No-not a smite o'use. That's what I tell 'er." She is not completely over with her gloom because occasionally she has "hulking bearing."

Joey definitely was in the way between Maggie and Alfred. I always promote the peace between a wife and her husband. There is more to a marriage than affection and physical love. It is a partnership that requires compromises, patience, forgiveness, and more. I am not promoting infidelity rather forgiveness and endurance.

The author concealed or obscured clear indications of my points and yours.
He defended Alfred by saying, "You know how anxious women are to fall in love, wife or now wife." “We aren’t all heroes.” And so I could be easily wrong.

[Dark Muse]

I have to quite disagree with you on most accounts here. I think that Joey is not in the way but rather that Joey is Maggie's only true and real companion, she needs the love of Joey becasue she has such a lout of a no-good husband. Without Joey, what joy at all could she find in her life?

In my world, there is no forgiveness when your husband has a bastard child with some french floozy. And I suppose you also would think it is preferctly justifiable for the husband to murder Joey? And that if he follows through with that plan his wife ought to just plaicidy forgive him for that?

There is no indication that the husband is not going to cheat again, so should women just be completely submissive and let thier husbands run about doing whatever they will?

I agree that there might have been some attraction between the narrator and Maggie, and personally I kind of wanted Maggie to hook up with the narrator to get back at her husband.