D.H. Lawrence's Short Stories Thread

[Janine]

So now that we have seen the sexual undertones of the officer and orderly relationship, identified the unconscious frustrations and their slowly rising into conscious, sublimated acts, and now that we seen the officer's increasingly loss of control, we can discuss the central event of part 1, an event that really is the culmination of the relationship and the event from which the rest of the story hinges. I'm referring to the kicking scene.

Good scene to go to. I agree that it is the culmination of the relationship; it is now the event that advances the story. Up until now there really has not been any real plot. Now something significant happens and this quickly advances the story and a plot develops from this point on.


In some respects, this is actually a rape scene. It's a sublimated rape.

Yes, absolutely I agree with this thought. They say that rape is not a sexual crime at all, it has nothing to do with desire, rather it has to do with domination and violence towards the rape victim. In this sense for certain the officer wants total domination of his orderly and now his victim.


The kicking is another subconscious frustration coming up to consciousness in an sublimated, uncontrollable act. The whole thing is sadistic. The officer gets a sick pleasure from it. Notice too the sexual allusions:

Most definitely sadistic. So is rape. His kicking has it's own connotations, from the back when the orderly least expected such an act of violence against him. He is totally defenseless, as a rape victim would be. Yes, the officer, at first, seems to derive a 'sick pleasure' from it, but then he is exhausted like his experience was sexual and intensely cruel and he needs to block it out.
At first he has "intense gratification of his passion", but....
"Then there was a counter-action, a horrible breaking down of something inside him, a whole agony of reaction. He stood there for an hour motionless, a chaos of sensations, but rigid with a will to keep blank his consciousness, to prevent his mind grasping. And he held himself so until the worst of the stress had passed, when he began to drink, drank himself to an intoxication, till he slept obliterated."


It breaks the orderly. He completely copitulates and in many respects acts like a rape victum:

The passage you quoted does do so. I fully agree with you on this. Good observations and insight.


And so this brings the story back to present time, the march and manuevers, completing the exposition.

Yes, we can go on from here to the advance of the plot.

[Virgil]

One last thought on this scene Janine. I have to say that this is as violent a scene in all of Lawrence's works. There is really very little violence in most of Lawrence (The Plumed Serpent is probably the only exception that I can think of). The kicking is incredibly shocking to me. I really wasn't prepared for it. If the Officer had shot him, I think that would have been less startling. But the kicking seems so much more sadistic and cruel. It really is a rape.

[Janine]

One last thought on this scene Janine. I have to say that this is as violent a scene in all of Lawrence's works. There is really very little violence in most of Lawrence (The Plumed Serpent is probably the only exception that I can think of). The kicking is incredibly shocking to me. I really wasn't prepared for it. If the Officer had shot him, I think that would have been less startling. But the kicking seems so much more sadistic and cruel. It really is a rape.

Yes, Virgil, I quite agree about this being the most violent scene I know of in L's work. I too was a bit shocked on first reading it. I am wondering if it would turn people off to Lawrence, had they not know much of his other work. Odd because this was written quite early in his career, right? In "The White Peacock" there was some shocking scenes, too concerning mostly cruelity and saddistic behavior towards animals, but there were hints of blatant cruelity toward people especially women. I was shocked reading that book at times. Lawrence started it when he was only 21.
Yes, I think the act of the kicking was so brutal and it was more shocking then just shooting him; definitely a metaphor for rape. He wants to break the soldier physically and emotionally or even his spirit, even thought the young soldier has a quiet inner spirit which he keeps to himself...this is the main cataylist for the officer's behavior. He wants to break it, or break through the youth's protective fascade. As with a rape victim he does this very thing indeed. The youth will never be the same after this horrifying and humiliating experience. Later in the following text it says:
"He was so young, and had known so little trouble, that he was bewildered." Then a bit later it says "He was too stunned to understand it." So to the youth, this is an emormous shock. He is marching/doing things now in a state of shock and non-reality.

What we might want to think about too is the reaction the officer has within himself about his own actions. As I had already quoted, the following passage is curious to me. The officer is not the winner in this attach either. His actions have had "a counter-action" and he has experienced "a horrible breaking down of something inside" - within himself.....interesting.


At first he has "intense gratification of his passion", but....
"Then there was a counter-action, a horrible breaking down of something inside him, a whole agony of reaction. He stood there for an hour motionless, a chaos of sensations, but rigid with a will to keep blank his consciousness, to prevent his mind grasping. And he held himself so until the worst of the stress had passed, when he began to drink, drank himself to an intoxication, till he slept obliterated."

The perpetrator is in a state of "chaos" so that he has not derived any satisfaction from his actions. He need to get intoxicated to get any sleep. Obviously he is himself stunned by his actions. I am not sure if rapists feel this way. What do you think?


Virgil, can you proceed with the story? You do a good job of it.

[Virgil]

The perpetrator is in a state of "chaos" so that he has not derived any satisfaction from his actions. He need to get intoxicated to get any sleep. Obviously he is himself stunned by his actions. I am not sure if rapists feel this way. What do you think?

You know I don't know exactly what to make of that. I purposely left it off my quote because i couldn't explain it. Here's a key sentence:

And he held himself so until the worst of the stress had passed, when he began to drink, drank himself to an intoxication, till he slept obliterated.
That word "obliterated" is a word that comes up often in Lawrence. He tends to mean that the character has released himself from the grip of his ego, his consciousness. I believe L uses the word even when it is not a perverse sex, but a wholesome sex. But those are just words on my part; I can't claim to quite understand it. Here's the rest of that paragraph.

When he woke in the morning he was shaken to the base of his nature. But he had fought off the realization of what he had done. He had prevented his mind from taking it in, had suppressed it along with his instincts, and the conscious man had nothing to do with it. He felt only as after a bout of intoxication, weak, but the affair itself all dim and not to be recovered. Of the drunkenness of his passion he successfully refused remembrance. And when his orderly appeared with coffee, the officer assumed the same self he had had the morning before. He refused the event of the past night--denied it had ever been--and was successful in his denial. He had not done any such thing--not he himself. Whatever there might be lay at the door of a stupid, insubordinate servant.

As to your question, I have no idea what rapists feel, but I imagine it's in the realm of poassibility.


Virgil, can you proceed with the story? You do a good job of it.
Thank you my dear. How about we push to part 2? I think we have tackled the difficult section and the rest is fairly straight forward. I think we can finish the rest more rapidly.

[Janine]

You know I don't know exactly what to make of that. I purposely left it off my quote because i couldn't explain it. Here's a key sentence:

Interesting that you left that out but I thought you did have it in the quote but left it out when you commented. Here it what I just took from your quote:
"He stood there for an hour motionless, a chaos of sensations, but rigid with a will to keep blank his consciousness, to prevent his mind grasping." Yes, I am glad you could not explain it either, since I found it quite confusing and osbcure in meaning, yet somehow I think it very significant to the story and the character studies. Both men are sick inside after the incident. Although the officer had the upper hand, now in the aftermath, he is in chaos and a broken man, as well as the orderly.


That word "obliterated" is a word that comes up often in Lawrence. He tends to mean that the character has released himself from the grip of his ego, his consciousness. I believe L uses the word even when it is not a perverse sex, but a wholesome sex. But those are just words on my part; I can't claim to quite understand it. Here's the rest of that paragraph.

That is interesting to me to know about the word "obliterated". It now takes on much more meaning, deeper meaning. Many aspects of Lawrence "I can't claim to quite understand" either. Although I, too, don't completely understand it, or what Lawrence intended, I get a sense of the word and his meaning.


As to your question, I have no idea what rapists feel, but I imagine it's in the realm of poassibility.

Do you mean what I wrote or how Lawrence wrote it? Some rapists don't feel anything like Lawrence's description of how the officer is affected, or so I think. I think some just go and do it again without much regard for human life or feelings. Somehow this officer is feeling very sickened by his own actions at this point right after the attack.

Thank you my dear. How about we push to part 2? I think we have tackled the difficult section and the rest is fairly straight forward. I think we can finish the rest more rapidly.

Yes, we should push onward. Your welcome, Virgil, I said that, since you seem to know where to take this discussion; I was feeling a little vague right now as to how to proceed. This study is becoming epic :lol: and I thought we could wrap it up by the end of the month; then --- onward to a new story!

[Virgil]

Do you mean what I wrote or how Lawrence wrote it? Some rapists don't feel anything like Lawrence's description of how the officer is affected, or so I think. I think some just go and do it again without much regard for human life or feelings. Somehow this officer is feeling very sickened by his own actions at this point right after the attack.

I meant what Lawrence wrote, but it could be either. I don't think the officer has any regard for the orderly's feelings either. He's sickened I think not because of guilt for hurting the orderly but for what the perverse action did to his soul.


Yes, we should push onward. Your welcome, Virgil, I said that, since you seem to know where to take this discussion; I was feeling a little vague right now as to how to proceed. This study is becoming epic :lol: and I thought we could wrap it up by the end of the month; then --- onward to a new story!
OK, I'll post something on part 2 tomorrow.

[Janine]

I meant what Lawrence wrote, but it could be either. I don't think the officer has any regard for the orderly's feelings either. He's sickened I think not because of guilt for hurting the orderly but for what the perverse action did to his soul.

I did not mean that the officer had any regard for the victim in this case. I don't even think you could call his feeling 'guilt'.
I think maybe he was sickened at the fact that he was capable of such a sudden and violent act. At this point he could not stand the consciousness that he was like this.


OK, I'll post something on part 2 tomorrow.

That would be great. Thanks, Virgil:)

[Virgil]

A couiple of points about Part 2. I'll make the first one now and the other later.

Notice these lines:

The orderly must move under the presence of the figure of the horseman. It was not that he was afraid, or cowed. It was as if he was disembowelled, made empty, like an empty shell. He felt himself as nothing, a shadow creeping under the sunshine. And, thirsty as he was, he could scarcely drink, feeling the Captain near him. He would not take off his helmet to wipe his wet hair. He wanted to stay in shadow, not to be forced into consciousness. Starting, he saw the light heel of the officer prick the belly of the horse; the Captain cantered away, and he himself could relapse into vacancy.and

He [the orderly] saw the labourers, mowing barefoot at the thick grass, leave off their work and go downhill, their scythes hanging over their shoulders, like long, bright claws curving down behind them. They seemed like dream-people, as if they had no relation to himself. He felt as in a blackish dream: as if all the other things were there and had form, but he himself was only a consciousness, a gap that could think and perceive.

Here is the sense of emptyness again, but this time it's in the orderly. That last sentence is particularly interesting. He felt that "he himself was only a consciousness." He can think and perceive but not have body or form. When you look back to the first paragraph I just quoted, it seems that the orderly and the officer have become just ideas, archetypes, living archetypes, a horseman and a foot soldier, an aristocrat and an underling. Again this sort of thing recurs in Lawrence's work, so this is not me just putting this together. It's part of Lawrence's philosophic belief, that the physical world is actually an illusion and that the core of our being is actually spiritual. This core of the person is in his sub-consciousness, and it is only through the will of the person that consciousness occurs, and therefore the person takes flesh. This is rather complicated and I'm not sure I've gotten it straight myself here. I understood it at one time, but I may have lost it over time. So anyone who is going to use that better check it.

What does it mean in this story? I think what Lawrence has done with these two characters is over the process of fifteen pages get to their inner core, and find that their inner core's are incompatible. It's more than that. I can't quite articulate it. Let's just say that with two couples, a man and a woman, when he gets to this point, their inner cores merge and fuse into a whole. We see it in The Rainbow and I think we see it in Women In Love. But here, perhaps because of the perverse aspect (or perhaps because of the homo erotic) of the officer and orderly's relationship, their inner beings are not compatible.

[Janine]

A couiple of points about Part 2. I'll make the first one now and the other later.

Notice these lines:
and


Here is the sense of emptyness again, but this time it's in the orderly. That last sentence is particularly interesting. He felt that "he himself was only a consciousness." He can think and perceive but not have body or form. When you look back to the first paragraph I just quoted, it seems that the orderly and the officer have become just ideas, archetypes, living archetypes, a horseman and a foot soldier, an aristocrat and an underling. Again this sort of thing recurs in Lawrence's work, so this is not me just putting this together. It's part of Lawrence's philosophic belief, that the physical world is actually an illusion and that the core of our being is actually spiritual. This core of the person is in his sub-consciousness, and it is only through the will of the person that consciousness occurs, and therefore the person takes flesh. This is rather complicated and I'm not sure I've gotten it straight myself here. I understood it at one time, but I may have lost it over time. So anyone who is going to use that better check it.

"He felt that he himself was only a consciousness." This is an interesting statement. Glad you pointed it out. I think it is cusious knowing of Lawrence's attitudes. I would think it would now be just the opposite, that the orderly was more unconscious and in his actions from the moment of violence on. But maybe the pain is making him more conscious and aware of himself. If you recall for quite sometime in the presense of the officer he has been calm on the surface and kept himself contained. Now everything has certainly changed and his bearing as well. Although he is stoic plodding on dealing step by step with his pain and shame and fear he is now in a hightened sense of his own soul so I can see the point you are getting across in this entire paragraph and analysis. Interesting.




What does it mean in this story? I think what Lawrence has done with these two characters is over the process of fifteen pages get to their inner core, and find that their inner core's are incompatible. It's more than that. I can't quite articulate it. Let's just say that with two couples, a man and a woman, when he gets to this point, their inner cores merge and fuse into a whole. We see it in The Rainbow and I think we see it in Women In Love. But here, perhaps because of the perverse aspect (or perhaps because of the homo erotic) of the officer and orderly's relationship, their inner beings are not compatible.

It is definitely a prominent point in "Women in Love", with Birkin and Ursula, but in contrast, not so with Gerald and Gudren. I agree with what you have said here concerning the two men. In one way though they are now compatible - both are suffering in their own way - no one is a winner in actuality. All is wreckage and damage from this point on. The officer crossed the line from bullying to action and that has upset all aspects of their relationship to each other. In some sense the officer has acted, as a terrorist, and now instilled in the youth the terror of his actions and his potential for violent behavior and domination, even threat to his life.

[Virgil]

All is wreckage and damage from this point on. The officer crossed the line from bullying to action and that has upset all aspects of their relationship to each other. In some sense the officer has acted, as a terrorist, and now instilled in the youth the terror of his actions and his potential for violent behavior and domination, even threat to his life.

That is a good point. If the Officer had not crossed the line, then they would have gone their separate ways once the orderly's duties were to expire. The Officer's actions have pushed the relationship to a different level.

[Logos]

To your PS: I am not even sure if it is totally permissable to post outside links on this site. Rules on here are pretty strict.
The only part in the rules where posting links to other sites is not allowed is in regard to "spamming -- posting commercial messages, overtly promoting personal or commercial websites". There is nothing wrong with posting outside links, it's actually encouraged when say citing a quote, or, posting a link to this site somewhere else. Just thought I'd clear that up :)

Also, I guess some of you have realised by now but Lawrence's The Prussian Officer and Other Stories (http://www.online-literature.com/dh_lawrence/prussian-officer/) is now officially on the site.

[Janine]

The only part in the rules where posting links to other sites is not allowed is in regard to "spamming -- posting commercial messages, overtly promoting personal or commercial websites". There is nothing wrong with posting outside links, it's actually encouraged when say citing a quote, or, posting a link to this site somewhere else. Just thought I'd clear that up :)

Also, I guess some of you have realised by now but Lawrence's The Prussian Officer and Other Stories (http://www.online-literature.com/dh_lawrence/prussian-officer/) is now officially on the site.

Hi Logos, thanks for clearing that up. I have been a little leary of posting links right in the thread. I know Virgil the same. It is easier for others to get to the links right from the thread.
I noticed Prussian Officer and other additions to the L section; also you emailed me a notice; glad you posted this since others might not know it. So glad you added these new stories; we all appreciate it so much and it makes quoting so much easier, convenient. I like reading from the books, but when not available, this is great for others who can't find them to buy, who want to join in this discussion.
I think this thread is going well so far, what do you think? We could use some more participants though. Perhaps after reading a novel - Lawrence/June Book, some new people will join in here, too.

[Janine]

That is a good point. If the Officer had not crossed the line, then they would have gone their separate ways once the orderly's duties were to expire. The Officer's actions have pushed the relationship to a different level.

Virgil, Yes, this is what I thought - glad you agree. This was the turning point in the story. Actually, there would not have been much of a story had the officer contained himself and kept himself from acting in a violent manner. Now both men view each other with suspicion and dread, don't you think? Both are "on guard" so to speak, much more so than before.
Good, now we can go on and hopefully wrap it up by end of the month. I am anxious to read another L story, how about you? Since we are reading the L novel for the June discussion, maybe we could pick a shorter story this next time. I will look into my books and review some stories or read a few new ones; see what is good.

[Virgil]

The other point that I wish to make about part II is that the same sort of lack of control that affects the Officer in part I when he "rapes" the orderly affects the orderly in part II. Here's a key paragraph:


But it was only the outside of the orderly’s body that was obeying so humbly and mechanically. Inside had gradually accumulated a core into which all the energy of that young life was compact and concentrated. He executed his commission, and plodded quickly back uphill. There was a pain in his head, as he walked, that made him twist his features unknowingly. But hard there in the centre of his chest was himself, himself, firm, and not to be plucked to pieces.
"Inside" his body he is losing control, so that the orderly's retaliation is also impulsive and uncontroled.

The flame sprang out of the orderly’s heart, nearly suffocating him.

“Yes, sir,” he replied, between shut teeth.

And he heard the sound of the Captain’s drinking, and he clenched his fists, such a strong torment came into his wrists. Then came the faint clang of the closing pot-lid. He looked up. The Captain was watching him. He glanced swiftly away. Then he saw the officer stoop and take a piece of bread from the tree-base. Again the flash of flame went through the young soldier, seeing the stiff body stoop beneath him, and his hands jerked. He looked away. He could feel the officer was nervous. The bread fell as it was being broken. The officer ate the other piece. The two men stood tense and still, the master laboriously chewing his bread, the servant staring with averted face, his fist clenched.

Then the young soldier started. The officer had pressed open the lid of the mug again. The orderly watched the lid of the mug, and the white hand that clenched the handle, as if he were fascinated. It was raised. The youth followed it with his eyes. And then he saw the thin, strong throat of the elder man moving up and down as he drank, the strong jaw working. And the instinct which had been jerking at the young man’s wrists suddenly jerked free. He jumped, feeling as if it were rent in two by a strong flame.

This "flame" is a recurring motif in the story to describe the inner uncontroled emotion. "Jerked free" can be a summary of everything that occurs in this story. Inner frustrations that are subconscious work their way to conscious expression.

Let me just reiterate my personal feelings on this. I don't believe in such psychoanalytic nonesense, but it was the going rage of the early twentieth century, and Lawrence develops his own theories of psychology which he excellently put to use in story telling. This makes for great psychological drama.

[Janine]

The other point that I wish to make about part II is that the same sort of lack of control that affects the Officer in part I when he "rapes" the orderly affects the orderly in part II. Here's a key paragraph:
But it was only the outside of the orderly’s body that was obeying so humbly and mechanically. Inside had gradually accumulated a core into which all the energy of that young life was compact and concentrated. He executed his commission, and plodded quickly back uphill. There was a pain in his head, as he walked, that made him twist his features unknowingly. But hard there in the centre of his chest was himself, himself, firm, and not to be plucked to pieces.
Virgil, I don't know about that 'lack of control' you speak of. He seems controlled on the outside in a mechanical way, and inside his being, the text describes "hard there in the centre of his chest was himself, himself, firm and not to be plucked to pieces." I don't see this indicating a lack of control. Can you explain what is leading you to conclude this? There is only one statement in this passage where I see any lack of control and the is "twist of his features unknowingly" caused by his pain.

"Inside" his body he is losing control, so that the orderly's retaliation is also impulsive and uncontroled.

I somehow do not agree with this at all. As I said i don't see a lack of control on his part at this juncture of the story. Maybe later but not now, even that can be debated. Did he lose control when he attacked the officer - maybe he was in the greater control of himself and his desires to defend himself finally. It is true that he has no control over the officer at this point but as far as having any control over his own being I don't think he could progress in the march and in his daily activities if he had lost control at this point.


This "flame" is a recurring motif in the story to describe the inner uncontroled emotion. "Jerked free" can be a summary of everything that occurs in this story. Inner frustrations that are subconscious work their way to conscious expression.
In this following passage you have quoted we are closer now to the confrontation and the actual violent killing act of the orderly. Now the flame could indicate the uncontolled emotion or the release of his emotions and the anger flaming up in his being, so that he acts with a vengence or actually a mere defense against all that has been done to him. If you think about it the orderly would most certainly be abused again by the officer so that to a great extent he is just protecting himself from futher harm, which could be called instinctive. I think his attacking the officer is acting in self defense. At that second he sees it that way. Perhaps too it is born of the anger he has so difficultly self possessed up until this breaking-point.

Let me just reiterate my personal feelings on this. I don't believe in such psychoanalytic nonesense, but it was the going rage of the early twentieth century, and Lawrence develops his own theories of psychology which he excellently put to use in story telling. This makes for great psychological drama.
Unlike you, who always use the word 'psychobabble':lol: , I do believe greatly in the 'subconscious' and it's effect unconsiously on situations and people. However, I do believe it has it's limits and I think Lawrence and Freud were way off sometimes. True that L develops his own theories of psychology, which would easily be disputed today. But L has a keen sense of the minds of others and sensitivity to the workings inside a person's whole being. Yes, it does make for a wonderful psychological drama, but all of his works do that, I believe. Wasn't the last story about the subconsious, also? That is what I like best about L's writting.

[Virgil]

Virgil, I don't know about that 'lack of control' you speak of. He seems controlled on the outside in a mechanical way, and inside his being, the text describes "hard there in the centre of his chest was himself, himself, firm and not to be plucked to pieces." I don't see this indicating a lack of control. Can you explain what is leading you to conclude this? There is only one statement in this passage where I see any lack of control and the is "twist of his features unknowingly" caused by his pain.


Well, I went back and read it again, and i have to say I still think the orderly does what he does out of impulse that he doesn't control. First of all there is nothing given where the orderly contemplates his revenge or retaliation. You would expect a paragraph at least where he ruminates what he should do or how he will do it. But nothing, unless I keep missing it. Second, all of these passages to me suggest non-premeditated impulse:


The flame leapt into the young soldier's throat as he heard the command, and he rose blindly, stifled. He saluted, standing below the officer. He did not look up. But there was the flicker in the Captain's voice.


But it was only the outside of the orderly's body that was obeying so humbly and mechanically. Inside had gradually accumulated a core into which all the energy of that young life was compact and concentrated. He executed his commission, and plodded quickly back uphill. There was a pain in his head, as he walked, that made him twist his features unknowingly. But hard there in the centre of his chest was himself, himself, firm, and not to be plucked to pieces.


The flame sprang out of the orderly's heart, nearly suffocating him.

"Yes, sir," he replied, between shut teeth.


Then the young soldier started. The officer had pressed open the lid of the mug again. The orderly watched the lid of the mug, and the white hand that clenched the handle, as if he were fascinated. It was raised. The youth followed it with his eyes. And then he saw the thin, strong throat of the elder man moving up and down as he drank, the strong jaw working. And the instinct which had been jerking at the young man's wrists suddenly jerked free. He jumped, feeling as if it were rent in two by a strong flame.

This is the most telling sentence: "the instinct which had been jerking at the young man's wrists suddenly jerked free." Instinct suddenly jerking free implies lack of control to me. Don't you think?

[Virgil]

Unlike you, who always use the word 'psychobabble':lol: , I do believe greatly in the 'subconscious' and it's effect unconsiously on situations and people. However, I do believe it has it's limits and I think Lawrence and Freud were way off sometimes. True that L develops his own theories of psychology, which would easily be disputed today. But L has a keen sense of the minds of others and sensitivity to the workings inside a person's whole being. Yes, it does make for a wonderful psychological drama, but all of his works do that, I believe. Wasn't the last story about the subconsious, also? That is what I like best about L's writting.

:lol: Yes, it suggests the workings of a human mind. But that's because he's a great writer. But Homer having Athena whispering in Oddyseus's ear and guiding him seemed like reality for the ancient Greeks. It's what you're culturally attuned to. The sub-conscious is no different than a good angel or a bad angel whispering into your ear. Some religious people believed (and many still do) that good and bad angels guides people.

[Janine]

:lol: Yes, it suggests the workings of a human mind. But that's because he's a great writer. But Homer having Athena whispering in Oddyseus's ear and guiding him seemed like reality for the ancient Greeks. It's what you're culturally attuned to. The sub-conscious is no different than a good angel or a bad angel whispering into your ear. Some religious people believed (and many still do) that good and bad angels guides people.

Well, Virgil, welcome back! I was wondering where you ran off to. I have not seen you on "Owen Meany" either. I am still plodding along with that one.
Hmmmm...well :lol:,V, how did mythology and angels get into this about the discussion on the subconsious? I don't really, truly see the correlation. Who thinks consciously that voices are talking to them - either Greek Gods, God or angels, could be devils, too....or fairies, or knomes...?:lol: Closest I can come to rational thought that is irrational is schizaphrenics; these people claim to hear 'real' voices in their heads. To them it is not subconscious.
No, I don't agree at all with you. Subconscious is an entirely different thing. It is deep down, hidden and obviously not conconscious. I think Lawrence felt it intrinsicly. I don't think all of it was formulated from Freud's ideas. I think he knew it before Freud. Freud's theories just spurred him onward to delve further into his own concepts and shape his own theories.
Even though we don't agree on this point, and I am sure it will come up again if we read "Women in Love" and discuss it, for now we can go on with this story. What do you think?

[Virgil]

Well, Virgil, welcome back! I was wondering where you ran off to. I have not seen you on "Owen Meany" either. I am still plodding along with that one.

I've been around. Sometimes it takes me a little time to respond. Actually you just reminded me of the Simon & Garfunkle song, Mrs Robinson. There is a line there that says: "Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?" And then later in the song, it says: What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson? / "Joltin' Joe has left and gone away". Joe DiMaggio was alive when the song came out, and he never understood what they were talking about. He is supposed to have said, "whadda you mean gone away. I'm still here." :lol: What do you mean where have i run off to? :lol:


Hmmmm...well :lol:,V, how did mythology and angels get into this about the discussion on the subconsious? I don't really, truly see the correlation. Who thinks consciously that voices are talking to them - either Greek Gods, God or angels, could be devils, too....or fairies, or knomes...?:lol: Closest I can come to rational thought that is irrational is schizaphrenics; these people claim to hear 'real' voices in their heads. To them it is not subconscious.
Ah, but that's a biological thing. There is something wrong with the chemistry and neuron mechanics in the brain. A sub-conscious is not biological. You might as well believe in good and bad angels because it's the same thing, a metaphysical construct that doesn't exist.


No, I don't agree at all with you. Subconscious is an entirely different thing. It is deep down, hidden and obviously not conconscious. I think Lawrence felt it intrinsicly. I don't think all of it was formulated from Freud's ideas. I think he knew it before Freud. Freud's theories just spurred him onward to delve further into his own concepts and shape his own theories.
I agree he's different than Frued or Jung or a whole host of other early psychologists, and for someone like lawrence who had no medical training to come up with a competetive theory to those other psychologists shows you that there is nothing biological about this. It's mythology.


Even though we don't agree on this point, and I am sure it will come up again if we read "Women in Love" and discuss it, for now we can go on with this story. What do you think?
Perhaps you missed my response above that last post where I replied to your comments. Can't wait for Women In Love either. I hope it wins.

[_Shannon_]

Are y'all reading in a particular order or anything?? Is there a story that is coming up next for discussion??

(Thanks for helping me find my way here, janine!)

[Janine]

Are y'all reading in a particular order or anything?? Is there a story that is coming up next for discussion??

(Thanks for helping me find my way here, janine!)

Hi Shannon, My pleasure to have directed you here. Glad you found the thread. I am always trying to recruit people for this discussion, my being a great L enthusiast. Lawrence's short stories are among some of the finest written in the English language. In the first post, Virgil writes a very informative introduction to Lawrence's short stories. I am quite pleased if you will be joining us. As you may have noticed, mostly the discussions have gotten down to Virgil and myself. We need more discussers!

Yes, we will be choosing another story real soon. I think we got distracted trying to finish up our May book of the month - "A Prayer for Owen Meany" - it was a long book. I should have posted something in here a few days ago, but then I got distracted and busy. I will post tonight. Then, hopefully, we can quickly get on with this story's ending and to the next.

Pretty much we have kept this thread rather unstructured. We did not have a set time to choose a new story. Hopefully by the weekend or start of next week we could choose a new one to read. The one we are on has been longer than most. I will let you know or do check in again. Please be patient...we will continue this thread; you will find it worthwhile - interesting and revealing of Lawrence.

If you have read "The Prussian Officer", please feel free to jump in at this point to discuss the remainder.

[Janine]

I've been around. Sometimes it takes me a little time to respond. Actually you just reminded me of the Simon & Garfunkle song, Mrs Robinson. There is a line there that says: "Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?" And then later in the song, it says: What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson? / "Joltin' Joe has left and gone away". Joe DiMaggio was alive when the song came out, and he never understood what they were talking about. He is supposed to have said, "whadda you mean gone away. I'm still here." :lol: What do you mean where have i run off to? :lol:

Virgil, I am still laughing about this analogy. It is a good one. :lol:
I went and read the Wikipedia biography about DiMaggio. You had me curious. Here is what one part said:
"A generation later, Simon and Garfunkel used him in that same vein in "Mrs. Robinson". The literal-minded DiMaggio was reportedly not fond of the lyric "Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?" as he was very much alive, and had not gone anywhere. However, he changed his mind when he gained a whole new generation of fans from that song. When he died the London Times observed in its obituary that the lines from "Mrs Robinson" were what DiMaggio would be most remembered for."
It is an interesting biography. It lists all the songs that immortalised his name and their were are quite a number, besides Mrs. Robinson. Also tells how he married Marilyn Monroe, they were divorced, and just before her death he wanted to remarry her. I did not realise all this.

Ah, but that's a biological thing. There is something wrong with the chemistry and neuron mechanics in the brain. A sub-conscious is not biological. You might as well believe in good and bad angels because it's the same thing, a metaphysical construct that doesn't exist.

Well, this is true but I was kind of kidding with you about it. I still disagree with you mostly about sub-consciousness and it being merely a 'metaphysical construct'. To be honest with you, I never heard this theory, so I will have to think about it. I think so much of Lawrence's work is based on subconsious ideas that it is like pulling the rug out from under me. I just don't know. You have me a bit confused at this point.

I agree he's different than Frued or Jung or a whole host of other early psychologists, and for someone like lawrence who had no medical training to come up with a competetive theory to those other psychologists shows you that there is nothing biological about this. It's mythology.

Well, truly I don't care if L had a degree in pychology or not. He was intuitive and perceptive and that is good enough for me. If he wanted to form his own theories on the mind that is acceptable within the confines of his art - his writing. I can accept it as being psychological to him. Pyschological is not a mythology to me. But if you want to believe it is that is fine too. Like some people believing in organised religions and others not.

Perhaps you missed my response above that last post where I replied to your comments. Can't wait for Women In Love either. I hope it wins.

I did go back and read that post. I will check now and if need be try and answer anything I missed.
I hope WIL wins too. The vote is getting precariously close.:( Do the polls close tomorrow or midnight tonight? J

[Virgil]

Ok, this could be my wrap up of The Prussian Officer.

Part III we find the orderly trying to escape in the woods after killing the Officer, and suffering from heat stroke. I'm reminded of something inspirangel (what happened to inpirangel? Is she coming back?) said a number of pages back, and that is she felt this story was about self-preservation. The orderly is trying to preserve himself here and his killing of the officer could be seen as an act of self-preservation. There may be something to that. But the orderly doesn't preserve himself, he dies. And I can't help but feel that both the orderly and the officer need each other. I'm not sure I can prove it, but they do strike me as compliments of each other.

Another thing I wanted to point out is that as the orderly starts feeling the effects of the heat stroke his senses heighten. Check this out:

When he opened his eyes again, he started, seeing something creeping swiftly up a tree-trunk. It was a little bird. And the bird was whistling overhead. Tap-tap-tap--it was the small, quick bird rapping the tree-trunk with its beak, as if its head were a little round hammer. He watched it curiously. It shifted sharply, in its creeping fashion. Then, like a mouse, it slid down the bare trunk. Its swift creeping sent a flash of revulsion through him. He raised his head. It felt a great weight. Then, the little bird ran out of the shadow across a still patch of sunshine, its little head bobbing swiftly, its white legs twinkling brightly for a moment. How neat it was in its build, so compact, with pieces of white on its wings. There were several of them. They were so pretty--but they crept like swift, erratic mice, running here and there among the beech-mast.
Notice how sounds and the sights become so sharp. This is something that Lawrence does on a number of occaisions when a character is dying or undergoing a mentally altering event.

Another thing in this third part is the outstanding prose. This is among some of his best writing:

Struggling to his feet, he lurched away. He went on walking, walking, looking for something--for a drink. His brain felt hot and inflamed for want of water. He stumbled on. Then he did not know anything. He went unconscious as he walked. Yet he stumbled on, his mouth open.

When, to his dumb wonder, he opened his eyes on the world again, he no longer tried to remember what it was. There was thick, golden light behind golden-green glitterings, and tall, grey-purple shafts, and darknesses further off, surrounding him, growing deeper. He was conscious of a sense of arrival. He was amid the reality, on the real, dark bottom. But there was the thirst burning in his brain. He felt lighter, not so heavy. He supposed it was newness. The air was muttering with thunder. He thought he was walking wonderfully swiftly and was coming straight to relief--or was it to water?

Suddenly he stood still with fear. There was a tremendous flare of gold, immense--just a few dark trunks like bars between him and it. All the young level wheat was burnished gold glaring on its silky green. A woman, full-skirted, a black cloth on her head for head-dress, was passing like a block of shadow through the glistening, green corn, into the full glare. There was a farm, too, pale blue in shadow, and the timber black. And there was a church spire, nearly fused away in the gold. The woman moved on, away from him. He had no language with which to speak to her. She was the bright, solid unreality. She would make a noise of words that would confuse him, and her eyes would look at him without seeing him. She was crossing there to the other side. He stood against a tree.
And this:

During the night the lightning fluttered perpetually, making the whole sky white. He must have walked again. The world hung livid round him for moments, fields a level sheen of grey-green light, trees in dark bulk, and the range of clouds black across a white sky. Then the darkness fell like a shutter, and the night was whole. A faint flutter of a half-revealed world, that could not quite leap out of the darkness! Then there again stood a sweep of pallor for the land, dark shapes looming, a range of clouds hanging overhead. The world was a ghostly shadow, thrown for a moment upon the pure darkness, which returned ever whole and complete.

And finally the two main characters lay together in Part IV in a mortuary as two sides of a coin:

The bodies of the two men lay together, side by side, in the mortuary, the one white and slender, but laid rigidly at rest, the other looking as if every moment it must rouse into life again, so young and unused, from a slumber.

[Janine]

:lol: Yes, it suggests the workings of a human mind. But that's because he's a great writer. But Homer having Athena whispering in Oddyseus's ear and guiding him seemed like reality for the ancient Greeks. It's what you're culturally attuned to. The sub-conscious is no different than a good angel or a bad angel whispering into your ear. Some religious people believed (and many still do) that good and bad angels guides people.

Are you not confusing having a "conscience" from the "sub-conscious"? When a person has a 'conscience' it could be like a good angel whispering in his ear. If he is devoid of one, could be a devil spurring him on. As far as Lawence is concerned I am now in a state of confusion. Maybe I never delved this far below the surface of his writings or it just did not matter greatly to me either way.
If it is ok with you I would like to go on with the story and finish it up soon.

NOTE: sorry just posted this as you were posting above me. I will answer that one soon if my poor aching brain can hold out. I have been feeling overwhelmed lately. J

[Virgil]

Are you not confusing having a "conscience" from the "sub-conscious"? When a person has a 'conscience' it could be like a good angel whispering in his ear. If he is devoid of one, could be a devil spurring him on. As far as Lawence is concerned I am now in a state of confusion. Maybe I never delved this far below the surface of his writings or it just did not matter greatly to me either way.
If it is ok with you I would like to go on with the story and finish it up soon.

NOTE: sorry just posted this as you were posting above me. I will answer that one soon if my poor aching brain can hold out. I have been feeling overwhelmed lately. J

No I'm not talking about concience, but consciousness and sub-conscious. What I meant by the good/bad angel analogy was that the sub-conscious supposedly controls our actions (id, ego, superego) and that is what i'm saying is bunk. The id pushing us toward desires while the superego clamping down is comparable to a bad angel pushing us towards desires and good angels clamping down. It's all bunk. The sub-conscious is a myth. Sorry if I wasn't clearer. Anyway this is a Lawrence thread. I've stated my opinion; it's contrary to conventional thought. So be it.

[Janine]

No I'm not talking about concience, but consciousness and sub-conscious. What I meant by the good/bad angel analogy was that the sub-conscious supposedly controls our actions (id, ego, superego) and that is what i'm saying is bunk. The id pushing us toward desires while the superego clamping down is comparable to a bad angel pushing us towards desires and good angels claping down. It's all bunk. The sub-conscious is a myth. Sorry if I wasn't clearer. Anyway this is a Lawrence thread. I've stated my opinion; it's contrary to conventional thought. So be it.

Virgil, well you are taking me back to my crazy college days talking about the id, ego and superego. I really never studied pshychologoy in college - just had an English professor who was totally unconventional and had us reading all those books that came out at the time - a lot of Herman Hesse books and "The Book of the Id" I recall. To be honest with you all that took place a lifetime ago for me. It has been eons since I even thought of these things. I thought at the time they were novel ideas but ofcourse as time went by we all got practical and thought differently. I really would have to go back and review all this stuff to fully understand. I have to be content just seeing the pshchological stuff in Lawrence's writing in his vane of thought and let it be at that. I hope this makes sense. It could be mostly 'bunk' but I try to see L's writing when he first was discovering these ideas and expounding on them.
Too tired now to write more. I will address your last post tomorrow. It is late now. I did read it though.

[Janine]

Ok, this could be my wrap up of The Prussian Officer.

Part III we find the orderly trying to escape in the woods after killing the Officer, and suffering from heat stroke. I'm reminded of something inspirangel (what happened to inpirangel? Is she coming back?) said a number of pages back, and that is she felt this story was about self-preservation. The orderly is trying to preserve himself here and his killing of the officer could be seen as an act of self-preservation. There may be something to that. But the orderly doesn't preserve himself, he dies. And I can't help but feel that both the orderly and the officer need each other. I'm not sure I can prove it, but they do strike me as compliments of each other.

I said that before about preservation or I agreed - not sure now which one. At any rate, I think at the point that the orderly snapped - and we all have a breaking point - he was trying in an illogical way to survive. Sort of a survival of the fittest thing and acting more on instinct, not logic - animal instinct would fit right in with L's ideas. He did not contemplate the consequences of killing the officer; he simply reacted as an 'animal' trying to survive. He dies because there are consequences in doing this. He must now flee from the scene and the crime and the law. It is the old aggression and then the flee instinct that kicks in. It has another phrasing, but I can't think of it right now - too tired.



Another thing I wanted to point out is that as the orderly starts feeling the effects of the heat stroke his senses heighten. Check this out:

Notice how sounds and the sights become so sharp. This is something that Lawrence does on a number of occaisions when a character is dying or undergoing a mentally altering event.

Another thing in this third part is the outstanding prose. This is among some of his best writing:

And this:

I did not bother to requote the book here so check back to see the quotes. I fully agree with what you said. This is interesting to me and I think Lawrence drew deeply from his own experience, coming precariously close to dying. They said, in several of my biographies, that he became more keenly in tune with things - nature, colors, etc; everything was heightened - his senses seemed heightened after his recovery from the pnemonia that nearly killed him. He felt he was a changed person, also. If you have ever experienced a long hospital stay or a long illness you would fully understand this. I had this experience myself after being very ill and nearly died. Afterwards, colors were sharper and more magnificent, than I had remembered them to be. I think this would account for this heightened sense of noticing the nature about him as the orderly experienced it as he lay dying. Also, they say, when person is close to death, they sometimes rally and become more intune just before they die. It may have been like this in Lawrence's mind and he conveyed it so beautifully in these passages.


And finally the two main characters lay together in Part IV in a mortuary as two sides of a coin:

This is a very fitting ending I think. One sort of feels emptied after the whole experience and the sense of futility in all of this violence and death is apparent when reading these closing lines. They are very poignant, don't you think?

[Janine]

Virgil, Before we wrap this up entirely, I wanted to look at the murder scene again, because I felt it was important and actually the climax of the story. I know this is backtracking a little, but I kept wondering if the orderly felt revulsion or guilt for his crime, his loss of control and his deadly actions. Here's the scene:


The spur of the officer caught in a tree-root, he went down backwards with a crash, the middle of his back thudding sickeningly against a sharp-edged tree-base, the pot flying away. And in a second the orderly, with serious, earnest young face, and underlip between his teeth, had got his knee in the officer’s chest and was pressing the chin backward over the farther edge of the tree-stump, pressing, with all his heart behind in a passion of relief, the tension of his wrists exquisite with relief. And with the base of his palms he shoved at the chin, with all his might. And it was pleasant, too, to have that chin, that hard jaw already slightly rough with beard, in his hands. He did not relax one hair’s breadth, but, all the force of all his blood exulting in his thrust, he shoved back the head of the other man, till there was a little “cluck” and a crunching sensation. Then he felt as if his head went to vapour. Heavy convulsions shook the body of the officer, frightening and horrifying the young soldier. Yet it pleased him, too, to repress them. It pleased him to keep his hands pressing back the chin, to feel the chest of the other man yield in expiration to the weight of his strong, young knees, to feel the hard twitchings of the prostrate body jerking his own whole frame, which was pressed down on it.

But it went still. He could look into the nostrils of the other man, the eyes he could scarcely see. How curiously the mouth was pushed out, exaggerating the full lips, and the moustache bristling up from them. Then, with a start, he noticed the nostrils gradually filled with blood. The red brimmed, hesitated, ran over, and went in a thin trickle down the face to the eyes.

Up until here he is acting in a way that will relieve him of his tension and pain and his situation of abuse. He uses specific words and phrases to express this relief such as:
"pressing, with all his heart behind in a passion of relief, the tension of his wrists exquisite with relief."
Twice he uses the work pleased in these passages in that same paragraph:
".....convulsions shook the body of the officer, frightening and horrifying the young soldier. Yet it pleased him, too, to repress them. It pleased him to keep his hands pressing back the chin....."

If you notice he has both frightening and horrifying feelings and yet he is pleased - a definite opposite or a repression of what he is really feeling or will feel when the act is over and the officer is dead.


It shocked and distressed him. Slowly, he got up. The body twitched and sprawled there, inert. He stood and looked at it in silence. It was a pity IT was broken. It represented more than the thing which had kicked and bullied him. He was afraid to look at the eyes. They were hideous now, only the whites showing, and the blood running to them. The face of the orderly was drawn with horror at the sight. Well, it was so. In his heart he was satisfied. He had hated the face of the Captain. It was extinguished now. There was a heavy relief in the orderly’s soul. That was as it should be. But he could not bear to see the long, military body lying broken over the tree-base, the fine fingers crisped. He wanted to hide it away.

This is a very curious line in the above paragraph when referring to the officers dead body:
"It was a pity IT was broken. It represented more than the thing which had kicked and bullied him."
This line is somehow prophetic of the closing last two lines of the story...interesting. Also curious referring now to the dead officer as "IT" and "the thing" - no longer seeing him as a person. Did he ever see him as a person, I wonder.
Here again is mentioned relief:
"There was a heavy relief in the orderly’s soul."
The last two sentences in this paragraph again refer to the fact the young soldier cannot bear to see the "body lying broken" of the officer; he wants now to hide it away, even from his own mind and consciousness forever. The word "broken" is used often and emphasised.


Quickly, busily, he gathered it up and pushed it under the felled tree-trunks, which rested their beautiful, smooth length either end on logs. The face was horrible with blood. He covered it with the helmet. Then he pushed the limbs straight and decent, and brushed the dead leaves off the fine cloth of the uniform. So, it lay quite still in the shadow under there. A little strip of sunshine ran along the breast, from a chink between the logs. The orderly sat by it for a few moments. Here his own life also ended.

Now he hides the body, actually positions it as though it is still alive and sleeping. The curious thing is the next to the last line when he sat by it for a few minutes. The last line is the zinger and I think the climax - "Here his own life also ended". The way this line suddenly presents itself on the page is stark reality and so brilliant on Lawrence's part. The timing is perfect for this line. This line shows to me starkly that violence and actions like these that end in death/murder never have one victim, but claim two. Now the men are one in the crime, their fates sealed. Perhaps similiar to Tess' action in the Hardy novel when she kills Alec and knows from that moment on that her own life is doomed, that she will be hanged and die. In PO there is a oneness of death and quilt and violence, now that the young officer has crossed that moral line; the end also reflects and encompasses this oneness with the communing of the dead in the final scene. The 'two halves of the whole', perhaps? becoming one in death?

[Janine]

Virgil, Please be sure and read my last post. I thought I brought up some good points and wanted to see what you thought. I just finished Chapter two of WIL and this passage really struck me as applying to the idea in this story - The PO:


`No man,' said Birkin, `cuts another man's throat unless he wants to cut it, and unless the other man wants it cutting. This is a complete truth. It takes two people to make a murder: a murderer and a murderee. And a murderee is a man who is murderable. And a man who is murderable is a man who in a profound if hidden lust desires to be murdered.'

Keep in mind that Birkin is a fill-in for Lawrence and his views. Interesting, isn't it? especially if you think of it in relations to The PO.

[Virgil]

I said that before about preservation or I agreed - not sure now which one. At any rate, I think at the point that the orderly snapped - and we all have a breaking point - he was trying in an illogical way to survive. Sort of a survival of the fittest thing and acting more on instinct, not logic - animal instinct would fit right in with L's ideas. He did not contemplate the consequences of killing the officer; he simply reacted as an 'animal' trying to survive. He dies because there are consequences in doing this. He must now flee from the scene and the crime and the law. It is the old aggression and then the flee instinct that kicks in. It has another phrasing, but I can't think of it right now - too tired.

Yes, this naturalist reading is a legitamate reading, although I've always felt that Lawrence was more than a naturalist. He starts there and evolves to more than that. This is early Lawrence, so perhaps you're correct. But the orderly ultimately dies as a consequence of his action; so the survival instinct was wrong.


I did not bother to requote the book here so check back to see the quotes. I fully agree with what you said. This is interesting to me and I think Lawrence drew deeply from his own experience, coming precariously close to dying. They said, in several of my biographies, that he became more keenly in tune with things - nature, colors, etc; everything was heightened - his senses seemed heightened after his recovery from the pnemonia that nearly killed him. He felt he was a changed person, also. If you have ever experienced a long hospital stay or a long illness you would fully understand this. I had this experience myself after being very ill and nearly died. Afterwards, colors were sharper and more magnificent, than I had remembered them to be. I think this would account for this heightened sense of noticing the nature about him as the orderly experienced it as he lay dying. Also, they say, when person is close to death, they sometimes rally and become more intune just before they die. It may have been like this in Lawrence's mind and he conveyed it so beautifully in these passages.
Thanks for that biographical detail. I'm not surprised by it. There are places in L that certain characters sensing abilities are hyper active. I'm particularly recalling the woman in The Women Who Rode Away. We'll have to do that story some day, but it's a long and complicated one.


This is a very fitting ending I think. One sort of feels emptied after the whole experience and the sense of futility in all of this violence and death is apparent when reading these closing lines. They are very poignant, don't you think?Perfect touch. I'll get to your other post a bit later.

[Janine]

Virgil, I have wanted to check out that story "The Woman Who Rode Away". I had a reference to it in one of my biographies and it made me want to read it again - at least I think I read it already once.
Well I guess that wraps it all up for PO. I agree with what you wrote in your last post, so let's go forward!

To all participants:

I am working on picking next story....it won't be long now.....promise....

[Virgil]

Janine, I was going to reply to your comments on the scene where the orderly kills the officer. Let it suffice to say you are absolutely right on with your observations. There is a psychological satisfaction to the killing that breaks out of the orderly. I had not noiced how often Lawrence used the word "relief" there.

OK, now on to the next story. :)

[Janine]

Janine, I was going to reply to your comments on the scene where the orderly kills the officer. Let it suffice to say you are absolutely right on with your observations. There is a psychological satisfaction to the killing that breaks out of the orderly. I had not noiced how often Lawrence used the word "relief" there.

OK, now on to the next story. :)

Virgil, You sure?...because you can still comment further. I am always interested in your insightful comments and I did wonder what you thought of the quote from WIL on murder.
Anyway,I am a bit slow on picking the next story...sorry...I got tied up with so many other things...I will try to post it tomorrow.

[Janine]

Me again - will definitely be posting the story tonight - thanks for everyone's patience! Janine

[Janine]

Ok, I have picked the next story to discuss. It is available on this site under "Prussian Officer and Other Stories" in the D.H.Lawrence section.
The story is:

The Shades of Spring


Basically, this is a story about a young man going back to the place he spend much time (several years back) in his life; indicating a time of youth, early friendships and personal maturing. The place is obviously very nostalgic to him and he apparently has kept up a steady correspondence with an old sweetheart, who he has come with the intention of seeing. He soon meets her intended and later sees the young woman, as well in separate scenes. The story is full of lovely passages about spring and the flowering woodlands and fields, which I think everyone will enjoy; it seemed appropriate for this time of year. The interesting aspects of the story include the rediscovering of a place the man held dear in his heart and the drama that presents itself when recalling his old and complex feelings for his former beloved. The third party, the keeper, and her intended, further complicates his return and the simple plot.

A good one to read if you are not familar with Lawrence - I believe it was written early in his career, but I might be wrong. Also it is quite short this time since Lawrence is being discussed as the June Book Read.

Enjoy reading! Janine
Virgil,I leave this for you to look up, since you has a chronological timetable.

[Janine]

Hi, is anybody going to read the story and post soon? Actually I am just posting, so I can get this thread on the first page and that way we won't forget about it.
Maybe by Monday, I will be able to write something to get us started, or if anyone else wants to start feel free. I read the story a week ago, but need to review it before posting.

[downing]

Hi everyone! I have just finished reading the story and liked it very much! This is the first Lawrence work I have ever read and I think it was a nice beginning for many other short stories and novels written by this great author that I will read in the future. I appreciated very much the author's spring depictions, reminding me of Monet's watercolours and the sensibility which relives throughout the short story.
I'll wait till Monday, when the discussions start. I can hardly wait to participate in them and..I'll try my best!

[Pensive]

Read it today. I found the writing style very similar to the one that in Sons and Lovers. Description of the place reminds me of the way Lawrence had described Miriam's farm and the places where Miriam used to take Paul. And the good thing is that it's not descriptive in a boring sense.

I found the emotions of the characters interesting and well-put. Especially the first encounter of Syson and Hilda's present lover was very interesting, made me want to read more.

I feel story's major theme revolves around this: :)


I am like a plant, I can only grow in my own soil. - Hilda from Shades of Spring

[Janine]

Read it today. I found the writing style very similar to the one that in Sons and Lovers. Description of the place reminds me of the way Lawrence had described Miriam's farm and the places where Miriam used to take Paul. And the good thing is that it's not descriptive in a boring sense.

I found the emotions of the characters interesting and well-put. Especially the first encounter of Syson and Hilda's present lover was very interesting, made me want to read more.

I feel story's major theme revolves around this: :)

Great! Pensive, you are joining in this discussion, too; I am delighted! I talked to Downing yesterday and encouraged her to go ahead and post something. I suppose by now, everyone noticed that this story got pushed up a month, since we all were too tied up with the other L posts.

Pensive, Yes, right away I knew you would like this one and relate it to "Sons and Lovers". You bring up a good point about Hilda being satisfied to live where she is and Syson has a different path to follow, he mentions that nearer the end. "Did I? he asked. "And could your way never have been my way? I suppose not." Interesting, since Lawrence used "my path" or "my way" often; in his own life his wife very much followed "his path". This is the central theme, I believe, as you suggested and the story revolves around this idea. I think, also, there are some underlying things going on, as well.

In the line prior to the one I quoted, Hilda says to him "You plucked a thing and looked at it till you had found out all you wanted to know about it, then you threw it away". Pensive, didn't you mention to me in the other thread how Miriam had felt violated by Lawrence exposing her so? Interesting now to see the woman's 'come-back', or 'defense' is it not?

I agree that that first meeting of the two men spurs one on to read further. It is an interesting way to set up the story before the actual meeting of the two former lovers.

The writing style is very fluid and poetic and pastoral, I believe. It is much the style of writing of "Sons and Lovers." I also read Lawrence's first book "The White Peacock". This story is very reminescent of that writing style, especially the mention of the birds and the nests in the woodland. It is so lovely a depiction; makes one long to be there.

From studying WIL, I immediately noticed 'Willey Water - Farm' in the book. There is an interesting map in my WIL book with 'Willey Spring Wood', which sits directly by Haggs Farm. Haggs farm was home to Miriam/Jesse, as you know. I will try to scan this photo and post in the WIL, S&L thread; maybe here too. I had the same distinct feeling that Syson is somewhat a stand-in for Lawrence and his desire to revisit (if only in his mind) the places he frequented while growing up, especially his 'first love' - definitely reminescent of his writing style and descriptions in "Sons and Lovers".
In WIL, in the very significant chapter "Water-Party" most of that chapter takes place on 'Willey Water' - a pond on the estate of Gerald's parent's. It is interesting how all this ties in together. It was all generated from Lawrence's own childhood and countryside. There are many correlations to "Sons and Lovers" and to Lawrence's life in this story, if you look carefully. I noticed that Hilda mentioned that she knew the birds names, but not the plants/flowres. Syson/Lawrence did indeed study botony and loved it, and knew all the names of plants. You can notice how exquisitely he describes them. As Downing describes it it is like a Monet watercolor. I think this but even more vivid than Monet. No wonder Lawrence was great friends with Georgia O'Keefe later in life. She painted those vivid colorful flower blossoms.

Quote by Downing:

Hi everyone! I have just finished reading the story and liked it very much! This is the first Lawrence work I have ever read and I think it was a nice beginning for many other short stories and novels written by this great author that I will read in the future. I appreciated very much the author's spring depictions, reminding me of Monet's watercolours and the sensibility which relives throughout the short story.
I'll wait till Monday, when the discussions start. I can hardly wait to participate in them and..I'll try my best!

Hi Downing and everyone else,
basically, I picked this story for the newcomers to Lawrence and more to the liking of the ladies present (since the last one was dealing with 2 men/violence). So, that includes you, Pensive, and Downing and Grace, (I think) manolia.
Grace emailed me today asking about the thread and if we were still doing this story. She is going to read it in the next few days. This will be a great discussion this time. 'The more the merrier', so they say! Also, know that Virgil will join in and maybe Asa, although I have not heard from him for a time. I hope others also join in. Gee, I feel like the coordinator!:lol:

Yes, I think this particular story is a good introduction to Lawrence's work; also relates to his other novels we have been studying.:)

[downing]

Hi Pensive! I'm glad to see you around and I hope you will remain in this thread throughout the discussions, help us decoding the message of Lawrence's short story.
You pointed out well one of the story's themes; but I think that we could decode more. Certainly we've got to find a single major theme and other secondary themes. You said that the major theme descends from Hilda's memorable reply

I am like a plant, I can only grow in my own soil.
I would permit to contradict you and say that, in my humble oppinion, the major theme aims at the relationship between a man and a woman, refering in this case at blind love: I think there is no possibility of happiness in a couple if the two persons are different. Hilda points out:
"We are very different," .

I believe that the next part I selected from Hilda's and Syson's dialogue would be edifying in the search of the major theme:



"Did I?" he asked. "And could your way never have been my way? I suppose not."

"Why should it?" she said. "I am a separate being."

"But surely two people sometimes go the same way," he said.

I think that Lawrence's idea is that if a man and a woman are suitable, they do actually follow the same way- I would insist on this word which occurs many times in the character's dialogue.
From this dialogue I understand that the two charcaters are really different; Hilda believed that she needn't have followed the same ''path'' as her former lover, because she claims that she is a separate being. By giving this reply, I understand that Hilda doesn't have any love for Syson,because, if you love someone, you certainly have to follow in life the same path as the person you love,don't you think? And it occured to me an old greek legend that I once heard: the greeks believed that when we are born, we are given half of heart and we are obliged to find out the person from this world who's got the other half. Only in this way we can reach happiness;
Hilda and Syson could have never been happy because they have different views about love and life. Applying the greek legend to the characters' fates, I would afirm that Syson hasn't found yet the other ''half of heart''. Hilda could have possibly find it at the keeper. And in this consists the hero's drama. He loved a woman who wasn't alike him. I think and I am sorry for repeating myself, that this is the fact which Lawrence wanted to insist on: the importance of choosing the suitable ''half'', constituting in the same time, the major theme of the short story.

I think that the theme you found, Pensive-very good, of course- would fit as a secondary theme, refering to Hilda's views about life and love; but of course, I might be wrong. Nobody's perfect, is it?
I invite the other participants in the discussion to say their own oppinions about the major and secondary themes of the short story. Perhaps they've got other ideas and we'll be happy to listen to them :)

Edit: Sorry Janine, I posted after you but haven't seen your post; I guess you posted while I was writing. I will refer to your post in a next reply.

[Pensive]

Great! Pensive, you are joining in this discussion, too; I am delighted! I talked to Downing yesterday and encouraged her to go ahead and post something. I suppose by now, everyone noticed that this story got pushed up a month, since we all were too tied up with the other L posts.

Yes, I am glad to join this discussion myself. :)


Pensive, Yes, right away I knew you would like this one and relate it to "Sons and Lovers". You bring up a good point about Hilda being satisfied to live where she is and Syson has a different path to follow, he mentions that nearer the end. "Did I? he asked. "And could your way never have been my way? I suppose not." Interesting, since Lawrence used "my path" or "my way" often; in his own life his wife very much followed "his path". This is the central theme, I believe, as you suggested and the story revolves around this idea. I think, also, there are some underlying things going on, as well.

In the line prior to the one I quoted, Hilda says to him "You plucked a thing and looked at it till you had found out all you wanted to know about it, then you threw it away". Pensive, didn't you mention to me in the other thread how Miriam had felt violated by Lawrence exposing her so? Interesting now to see the woman's 'come-back', or 'defense' is it not?

On this very spot, I had to stop reading. This terribly reminded me of the exposure of both Miriam and Paul to each other, but Paul was the one to reject her. Here also, the man seems to be the one had rejected Hilda in the past, in other words, had threw her away.


I agree that that first meeting of the two men spurs one on to read further. It is an interesting way to set up the story before the actual meeting of the two former lovers.

It's very much interesting. This might not seem very philosophical or something like that, but it was my favourite part of the story. The expressions of the two men and their talk is enough to make the other curious what it's all about and to proceed on.


The writing style is very fluid and poetic and pastoral, I believe. It is much the style of writing of "Sons and Lovers." I also read Lawrence's first book "The White Peacock". This story is very reminescent of that writing style, especially the mention of the birds and the nests in the woodland. It is so lovely a depiction; makes one long to be there.

Heh yes. Beautiful description. In Sons and Lovers and reading this story as well, I had actually started to feel jealous of the characters who were living in such a beautiful place. :p


From studying WIL, I immediately noticed 'Willey Water - Farm' in the book. There is an interesting map in my WIL book with 'Willey Spring Wood', which sits directly by Haggs Farm. Haggs farm was home to Miriam/Jesse, as you know. I will try to scan this photo and post in the WIL, S&L thread; maybe here too. I had the same distinct feeling that Syson is somewhat a stand-in for Lawrence and his desire to revisit (if only in his mind) the places he frequented while growing up, especially his 'first love' - definitely reminescent of his writing style and descriptions in "Sons and Lovers".

Interesting insight, Janine. :thumbs_up For a moment, I got this feeling Syson was Paul and Helda was Miriam...but we can't be too sure though I personally lean towards this idea because Hilda here has astonishingly reminded me of Miriam.


In WIL, in the very significant chapter "Water-Party" most of that chapter takes place on 'Willey Water' - a pond on the estate of Gerald's parent's. It is interesting how all this ties in together. It was all generated from Lawrence's own childhood and countryside. There are many correlations to "Sons and Lovers" and to Lawrence's life in this story, if you look carefully. I noticed that Hilda mentioned that she knew the birds names, but not the plants/flowres. Syson/Lawrence did indeed study botony and loved it, and knew all the names of plants. You can notice how exquisitely he describes them. As Downing describes it it is like a Monet watercolor. I think this but even more vivid than Monet. No wonder Lawrence was great friends with Georgia O'Keefe later in life. She painted those vivid colorful flower blossoms.

:thumbs_up Wow, out of all, I didn't realise that. Another interesting point which gives strength to this theory that Lawrence wrote this story because he had wanted to visit the place of his younger days again.


Hi Downing and everyone else,
basically, I picked this story for the newcomers to Lawrence and more to the liking of the ladies present (since the last one was dealing with 2 men/violence). So, that includes you, Pensive, and Downing and Grace, (I think) manolia.
Grace emailed me today asking about the thread and if we were still doing this story. She is going to read it in the next few days. This will be a great discussion this time. 'The more the merrier', so they say! Also, know that Virgil will join in and maybe Asa, although I have not heard from him for a time. I hope others also join in. Gee, I feel like the coordinator!:lol:

Yes, I think this particular story is a good introduction to Lawrence's work; also relates to his other novels we have been studying.:)

This seems good. I hope you all get the time to read it and give your thoughts about it. :D


Hi Pensive! I'm glad to see you around and I hope you will remain in this thread throughout the discussions, help us decoding the message of Lawrence's short story.
You pointed out well one of the story's themes; but I think that we could decode more. Certainly we've got to find a single major theme and other secundar themes. You said that the major theme descends from Hilda's memorable reply

I would permit to contradict you and say that, in my humble oppinion, the major theme aims at the relationship between a man and a woman, refering in this case at blind love: I think there is no possibility of happiness in a couple if the two persons are different. Hilda points out: .

I believe that the next part I selected from Hilda's and Syson's dialogue would be edifying in the search of the major theme:

I think that Lawrence's idea is that if a man and a woman are suitable, they do actually follow the same way- I would insist on this word which occurs many times in the character's dialogue.
From this dialogue I understand that the two charcaters are really different; Hilda believed that she needn't have follow the same ''path'' as her former lover, because she claims that she is a separate being. By giving this reply, I understand that Hilda doesn't have any love for Syson,because, if you love someone, you certainly have to follow in life like the person you love,don't you think? And it occured to me an old greek legend that I once heard: the greeks believed that when we are born, we are given half of heart and we are obliged to find out the person from this world who's got the other half. Only in this way we can reach happiness;
Hilda and Syson could have never been happy because they have different views about love and life. Applying the greek legend to the characters' fates, I would afirm that Syson hasn't found yet the other ''half of heart''. Hilda could have possibly find it at the keeper. And in this consists the hero's drama. He loved a woman who wasn't alike him. I think and I am sorry for repeating myself, that this is the fact which Lawrence wanted to insist on: the importance of choosing the suitable ''half'', constituting in the same time, the major theme of the short story.

I think that the theme you found, Pensive-very good, of course- would fit as a secundar theme, refering to Hilda's views about life and love; but of course, I might be wrong. Nobody's perfect, is it?
I invite the other participants in the discussion to say their own oppinions about the major and secundar themes of the short story. Perhaps they've got other ideas and we'll be happy to listen to them :)

Edit: Sorry Janine, I posted after you but haven't seen your post; I guess you were posted while I was writing. I will refer to your post in a next post.

Hi downing! It's very nice to see you as well! :D

Actually what I meant to say was that the story seemed to be based on the quarrel on this statement. Was Hilda right in saying she was like a plant? Or should she have realised she was a human-being not a plant who had the ability to compromise and adjust herself in a different environment? The way her lover would have wanted to see her? This also includes in itself the question whether she was suitable for him like you put it. Forgive me if I have been a source of some kind of misunderstanding.


From this dialogue I understand that the two charcaters are really different; Hilda believed that she needn't have follow the same ''path'' as her former lover, because she claims that she is a separate being. By giving this reply, I understand that Hilda doesn't have any love for Syson,because, if you love someone, you certainly have to follow in life like the person you love,don't you think?

I find interesting what you have said here, but I think I half agree with you. I agree Hilda believed that she had not needed to follow the same path as her former lover because she had different priorities. But where I disagree with you is the point where you say we have to follow in our life the person we love/like the person we love. I also believe it's good to sort out the differences we have with the one we want to marry/live with all our life. And being obstinate is not a good thing. Sometimes you have to yield, you can't always expect your lover to yield in everything. But I think you can't always do as your lover says. You ought to have a personal freedom.

There is not one person in this world whom you love and who deserve your love. There are many. That's another thing you have different sort of relations with your family and friends but that doesn't mean you don't love them or they don't love you. You have to think about all of them. You can't follow one's lead everywhere. If you disagree on something with your romantic lover, this doesn't mean you doesn't love him. If you tell him you want to stay at the place your parents live, and he can't do that, despite of the fact you love him you might have to leave him for that. I don't think it lessens your love for him. I believe love is not always about 'getting' and 'meeting each other finally'.

I personally think it's quite difficult to judge whether Hilda's view on one's individuality and how she applies it is the right thing, I am myself a bit unsure, but I think the ending was fine. The thing that happened was right. What would have been the use if they would have lived together and wouldn't have agreed with each others' ways. Their life would hardly have been any better it seems to me. I would have been glad if they would have solved out their differences, but when they couldn't, the right thing was to separate I think. It's a pity Syson and Hilda couldn't dissolve differences but perhaps the tomorrow might be better for him. :)

[downing]

Actually what I meant to say was that the story seemed to be based on the quarrel on this statement. Was Hilda right in saying she was like a plant? Or should she have realised she was a human-being not a plant who had the ability to compromise and adjust herself in a different environment? The way her lover would have wanted to see her? This also includes in itself the question whether she was suitable for him like you put it. Forgive me if I have been a source of some kind of misunderstanding.

Pensive, you don't have why to ask for forgiveness. You did nothing to be forgiven :). I understand now what you wanted to say in your first post about Hilda's statement and I agree with you. Indeed, her words are rather silly, if I can say so- they make me think: if she hadn't lived with the keeper in that environment, she would have stopped loving him? I can't even imagine this, but her statement makes me think so.



I find interesting what you have said here, but I think I half agree with you. I agree Hilda believed that she had not needed to follow the same path as her former lover because she had different priorities. But where I disagree with you is the point where you say we have to follow in our life the person we love/like the person we love. I also believe it's good to sort out the differences we have with the one we want to marry/live with all our life. And being obstinate is not a good thing. Sometimes you have to yield, you can't always expect your lover to yield in everything. But I think you can't always do as your lover says. You ought to have a personal freedom.

There is not one person in this world whom you love and who deserve your love. There are many. That's another thing you have different sort of relations with your family and friends but that doesn't mean you don't love them or they don't love you. You have to think about all of them. You can't follow one's lead everywhere. If you disagree on something with your romantic lover, this doesn't mean you doesn't love him. If you tell him you want to stay at the place your parents live, and he can't do that, despite of the fact you love him you might have to leave him for that. I don't think it lessens your love for him. I believe love is not always about 'getting' and 'meeting each other finally'.

You are very right saying all these things. I also agree that we are alike the persons we love-and here I refer to our romantic lovers- only untill a point, because, starting from one point people become different. How dull this world would have been if we were all alike, don't you think so?
I believe that in this hard world we've got the duty(as the greek legend I refered to says) to find the other ''half''. Only in this was we could be happy; of course, misfortunes are everywhere and probably there doesn't exist any perfect couple, who never had a misunderstanding.
What I wanted to say when I stated that we have to follow our lover's path through life if we love him was the fact that the duty of a couple is to stay united and pass so over all the misfortunes which they may meet along life's road. I totally agree, you can follow your love interest only till a point, till the bounds of rationality, I might say, and personal freedom. It's your duty to advise the person you love when you think he needs it and take care of him/her.


I personally think it's quite difficult to judge whether Hilda's view on one's individuality and how she applies it is the right thing, I am myself a bit unsure, but I think the ending was fine. The thing that happened was right. What would have been the use if they would have lived together and wouldn't have agreed with each others' ways. Their life would hardly have been any better it seems to me. I would have been glad if they would have solved out their differences, but when they couldn't, the right thing was to separate I think. It's a pity Syson and Hilda couldn't dissolve differences but perhaps the tomorrow might be better for him. :)

I also agree that the end was a good one; they had nothing to do then to separate because they didn't have anything in common except books,probably. Like you also do, I hope Syson later found mutual love and common priorities. Perhaps he did, perhaps he didn't. But we don't have where to know this, we can just make suppositions and dream...dream as much as we can of Lawrance's landscapes...Monet landscapes...

[Janine]

Pensive,.....I understand now what you wanted to say in your first post about Hilda's statement and I agree with you. Indeed, her words are rather silly, if I can say so - they make me think: if she hadn't lived with the keeper in that environment, she would have stopped loving him? I can't even imagine this, but her statement makes me think so.

Downing and Pensive, It does seem to be kind of ridiculous on Hilda's part to make that statement and I recall, doesn't she makes it half-heartedly when talking to Syson? Afterall, it seems she still has some deep feeling (maybe even love) for Syson and he went away and she remained, so that love did not disappear or dissolve.


You are very right saying all these things. I also agree that we are alike the persons we love-and here I refer to our romantic lovers- only untill a point, because, starting from one point people become different. How dull this world would have been if we were all alike, don't you think so?

In life most people who get together and marry or become lovers long term do change and modify over time. We can never expect to find a carbon copy of ourselves in another person. We are all individuals afterall. We all often tend to have a 'fairytale' notion of love, not a realistic one. We tend to maintain a belief that there is a perfect lover somewhere 'out there' in the world just waiting for us; 'perfect' for us and waiting to be discovered. This notion is not always realistic and mostly is suggested by romantic novels, media and films. Many people exist feeling they are not completely whole or complete because of what we have been told. As Pensive stated there is not just one person 'out there' suitable or complementary/compatible for another person; there are many! I believe this, otherwise why would spouses or lovers, after their loved ones have either passed away, or separated from them, be capable of loving another person? How could they then be very happy in the second relationship or marriage?

I believe that in this hard world we've got the duty(as the greek legend I refered to says) to find the other ''half''. Only in this was we could be happy; of course, misfortunes are everywhere and probably there doesn't exist any perfect couple, who never had a misunderstanding.

Downing, I don't agree with this idea of the "half" and the two halves making up the whole, because I don't agree with your statement "Only in this way we could be happy." or in the word "duty". If we are incapable of finding a true match to our own being how could we be held to a duty to do so? I know that 'halves of a whole' is common belief, but I feel it does exclude individuality to some extend. If you think you can't exist without the other half or complementary person, for instance, what would be your alternative if you don't find that person? I think the concept is flawed. You said the idea came from the ancient Greeks. I think it may also be in the bible, but not sure if it is worded quite that way. I know it is often used in wedding ceremonies, but actually I have seen it modified to include 3 candles as symbolism to show the separateness and the merging held in harmony. I know from my other reading, that Lawrence did not agree with this 'two halfs of a whole' concept. He felt he found a better way, a new concept.

This was taken from "Women in Love"....manolia quoted it from the WIL text. This is Birkin speaking; he is the stand-in for Lawrence; his words and concepts throughout the book.


The hot narrow intimacy between man and wife was abhorrent. The way they shut their doors, these married people, and shut themselves in to their own exclusive alliance with each other, even in love, disgusted him. It was a whole community of mistrustful couples insulated in private houses or private rooms, always in couples, and no further life, no further immediate, no disinterested relationship admitted: a kaleidoscope of couples, disjoined, separatist, meaningless entities of married couples. True, he hated promiscuity even worse than marriage, and a liaison was only another kind of coupling, reactionary from the legal marriage. Reaction was a greater bore than action..


It was intolerable, this possession at the hands of woman. Always a man must be considered as the broken off fragment of a woman, and the sex was the still aching scar of the laceration. Man must be added on to a woman, before he had any real place or wholeness....


And why? Why should we consider ourselves, men and women, as broken fragments of one whole? It is not true. We are not broken fragments of one whole. Rather we are the singling away into purity and clear being, of things that were mixed. Rather the sex is that which remains in us of the mixed, the unresolved. And passion is the further separating of this mixture, that which is manly being taken into the being of the man, that which is womanly passing to the woman, till the two are clear and whole as angels, the admixture of sex in the highest sense surpassed, leaving two single beings constellated together like two stars...

In this idea Hilda and Syson would most definitely have separate modes of thinking. Lawrence believed in shedding the old ways or modes of living and seeking new ones....therefore the last line of this quote is his ideal.

There are other parts of WIL that voice Lawrence's idea of 'freedom' which is opposed here by Hilda's idea of being 'planted in the ground' where she lives. Syson to me represents that 'freedom' that Hilda would never be able to achieve, in order, for the two to be happy together.


What I wanted to say when I stated that we have to follow our lover's path through life if we love him was the fact that the duty of a couple is to stay united and pass so over all the misfortunes which they may meet along life's road. I totally agree, you can follow your love interest only till a point, till the bounds of rationality, I might say, and personal freedom. It's your duty to advise the person you love when you think he needs it and take care of him/her.

This may be true of some couples who marry or remain dedicated to each other, but from the start of the courtship and the love affair it suggested in this story and is apparent that this particular couple, Syson and Hilda, would not be able to come to terms with that idea, the idea of the man leading the way. They both wanted their own ways and their own paths. Therefore their relationship could have never worked out. I would probably turn your last statement into 'support and give care and love' to the person you truly love if you are committed to them, such as marriage, etc. - long term commitment.



I also agree that the end was a good one; they had nothing to do then to separate because they didn't have anything in common except books,probably. Like you also do, I hope Syson later found mutual love and common priorities. Perhaps he did, perhaps he didn't. But we don't have where to know this, we can just make suppositions and dream...dream as much as we can of Lawrance's landscapes...Monet landscapes...

Downing, I agree with you - the end was a good one. It says much, don't you think? I liked it very much. It was quite appropriate to the story. But Hilda not wanting yet to marry her new man, or to stop the correspondence with Syson, it leaves a bit of uneasiness and wondering for us. I think Syson can see the fact they are not meant for each other, better than Hilda can. She still seems to be hanging on to her romantic vision of Syson, like how the stars look different to her when viewing them with Syson, which actually I found to be a lovely thought - I think I know how she feels. It does bring up the quesion of whether one love can replace another? I am sure both men possess certain qualities that are right for Hilda, but perhaps not all she needs in one man, unfortunately. It seems that with Syson, she has had the books in common as you say, but Syson and Hilda could not cross the line from best friend to lover and be happy.
Yes, lets all...."and dream...dream as much as we can of Lawrance's landscapes...Monet landscapes.." as you say....I want to go there, don't you? I was to see and experience all those beautiful flowers and birdnests in the spring.

Didn't Syson say he was married now? I thought later Hilda said that she had consumated her physical relationship with the keeper the day Syson married. Are we assuming that Syson is unhappily married? Also, are we assuming he comes to the area to revitalize his relationship with Hilda? Is he truly jealous of the Keeper? or just longing for a life he felt was idyllic and perfect....a mere vision?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I think we are jumping ahead to the ending and many questions will be answered eventually by studying the text closer. To me, this stories main theme seems to be the revisiting of the place from ones past; including the revisiting of the woman who was a big part of a man's former life, within this setting. Can one ever truly enter back into the world of their past? I think that Hilda and the land are as 'one' to Syson. I would like to post the beginnings of the story to review, I think we can extract much from the text-clues, and as Downing put it 'decode' Lawrence within this story and find it's deeper meanings. We have a whole month to discuss this story; so please bear with me, I would like to go back to the beginning and review just how Syson feels entering back into this world of his past.



Chapter I
It was a mile nearer through the wood. Mechanically, Syson turned up by the forge and lifted the field-gate. The blacksmith and his mate stood still, watching the trespasser. But Syson looked too much a gentleman to be accosted.
I found it interesting to refer to Syson as 'the trespasser'. Often Lawrence uses key words in his text, that later he repeats in order to emphasis an idea. I am thinking that indeed, as we read the story, Syson is 'a trespasser' to the past and to Hilda's new life.
Also, note that Syson looked too much a 'gentleman' - this sets him appart from his former environment, alienating him from the start.


They let him go in silence across the small field to the wood.
There was not the least difference between this morning and those of the bright springs, six or eight years back. White and sandy-gold fowls still scratched round the gate, littering the earth and the field with feathers and scratched-up rubbish. Between the two thick holly bushes in the wood-hedge was the hidden gap, whose fence one climbed to get into the wood; the bars were scored just the same by the keeper's boots. He was back in the eternal.
This paragraph seems idyllic in that he feels nothing has changed, he envisions himself as though he had never left. The last line and the word 'eternal' is particularly interesting. It makes me think that he is idealising the world around him into being an 'eternal' vision that suggests to me the idea of it being an idyllic/paradise/heavenly realm he has now entered back into from the past. We do tend to idealize the past and make it perfect and flawless. I feel that prior to entering this past world he sees it that way in his mind. There is a great longing, in other words, of returning to this world of ones youth, of innocense and happiness.


Syson was extraordinarily glad. Like an uneasy spirit he had returned to the country of his past, and he found it waiting for him, unaltered. The hazel still spread glad little hands downwards, the bluebells here were still wan and few, among the lush grass and in shade of the bushes.

This further stresses the point. It also lets us know that he is an 'uneasy spirit' in returning to this idyllic/heavenly world. That seems to sets up a duality/conflict within the character of Syson. Maybe a hint of what will come?


The path through the wood, on the very brow of a slope, ran winding easily for a time. All around were twiggy oaks, just issuing their gold, and floor spaces diapered with woodruff, with patches of dog-mercury and tufts of hyacinth.
Two fallen trees still lay across the track. Syson jolted down a steep, rough slope, and came again upon the open land, this time looking north as through a great window in the wood. He stayed to gaze over the level fields of the hill-top, at the village which strewed the bare upland as if it had tumbled off the passing waggons of industry, and been forsaken. There was a stiff, modern, grey little church, and blocks and rows of red dwellings lying at random; at the back, the twinkling headstocks of the pit, and the looming pit-hill. All was naked and out-of-doors, not a tree! It was quite unaltered.

Interesting that after all this time the fallen trees still lay across the track; another indication of his perception of a unchanged world. I like the phrase 'a great window in the wood'. It seems that through this window he now perceives the idea of industry strewing the land and note the word 'forsaken'. Industry/coal mines encrouching on the land is a persistent theme in Lawrence's work. The beauty of the world is suddenly interrupted by the reality of the outside industrial world. In other words he still has a glimpse of the real world through the 'window' in the wood.


.[Quote]
Syson turned, satisfied, to follow the path that sheered downhill into the wood. He was curiously elated, feeling himself back in an enduring vision. He started. A keeper was standing a few yards in front, barring the way.

He is feeling 'cusiously elated' and again note the words 'enduring vision' - his perception is a feeling that nothing has changed (therefore leading him onward to seek out his former life and love). The last two statements stop him dead in his tracks and now ensues the conversation with the keeper and reality will start to creep in.

Please give me some thoughts/feedback on what I have observed so far in the introduction of the story and the themes.

Some ideas have been thrown out that about theme already.
I feel that this story has a broader meaning and is very much about going back to revisit ones past, which we tend to immortalize in our hearts and thoughts. But this vision is unrealistically viewed in the mind over time, the good outweighing the bad or flaws. In returning from a distance after many years have lapsed, and going back into what one thinks is the perfect idyllic world, there exists in actuality an altered illusion of ones memory. Time alters the memory, making these past visions immortal to us. One can never truly go back to the place they were years before and pick up from that point. We can only come to the conclusion that we and other people have changed and progressed. Therefore, although the landscape may be basically unaltered, the lives and people are not.
Also, one underlying theme I feel would be that Syson and Hilda still felt the friction that once drove them appart. Like the landscape, Syson has idealised his memory and vision of Hilda, but his longing and attraction back to the past is not realistic in an ongoing sense.

[Pensive]

Very interesting commentary and insight, Janine!


Orginally in the short story: Syson was extraordinarily glad. Like an uneasy spirit he had returned to the country of his past, and he found it waiting for him, unaltered. The hazel still spread glad little hands downwards, the bluebells here were still wan and few, among the lush grass and in shade of the bushes.


Janine's comment on it: This further stresses the point. It also lets us know that he is an 'uneasy spirit' in returning to this idyllic/heavenly world. That seems to sets up a duality/conflict within the character of Syson. Maybe a hint of what will come?

I rather think this passage points to this that Syson was uneasy living away from the country-side of his past. He had returned back there because of this unease.

There seems to be something interesting lying there in this line to me:

he found it waiting for him, unaltered.

Syson seemed to be considering things unchanged. Perhaps at this moment he was expecting everything to be like it was when he was there. Perhaps that's why he found it surprising that Hilda was dating someone other than him.

He seemed to be living in his 'past' at this moment.

[Janine]

Very interesting commentary and insight, Janine!

Hi Pensive, thanks you. I knew I included much in this post, but I tried to separate the bottom half, starting with the posting of the beginning of the actual text of the story. I know with the last story we discussed this seemed to be an effective way of looking at the development of the plot/story and the themes. With short stories, we have the time to do this in a month or so; we don't have a set time for these to end, actually. It makes sense to go slowly, since within Lawrence's writing there always seems to be a progression and he writes in such a poetic/prose style, giving small hints as he develops the story, as to what will follow. I thought it beneficial to look at how we preceive Syson at the beginning of the story.


I rather think this passage points to this that Syson was uneasy living away from the country-side of his past. He had returned back there because of this unease.

Yes, and the whole line reads: "Like an uneasy spirit he had returned to the country of his past, and he found it waiting for him, unaltered." Two key words exist in that line - "uneasy" and "unaltered".

I think this "uneasy" word is quite subtle, but significant enough to relay to us the feeling that Syson is not at ease in his life. But my other thought would have been is he temporarily "uneasy", while entering back into world o his past? That can't be an easy thing to do. Perhaps to revisit ones childhood area would not cause great unease, but not the actual meeting again of a former lover, which he anticipates. It says "spirit" so I feel it does indicate "uneasy" in a broader sense of the word, as you also have percieved


Now to "unaltered"....

There seems to be something interesting lying there in this line to me:

he found it waiting for him, unaltered.

Syson seemed to be considering things unchanged. Perhaps at this moment he was expecting everything to be like it was when he was there. Perhaps that's why he found it surprising that Hilda was dating someone other than him.

I think, as I said in my last post, Syson does feel, in the very beginning of the story, as he begins to percieve his old world coming back into focus, that indeed all is as he had hoped it would be - unchanged and "unaltered". Of course, we all know, realistically, this cannot possibly be true, or that his initial impression cannot last. I will post the next part of the story later today when he first meets the keeper, since that is when reality begins to creep into the story, and the tone begins to change into one of reality. It happened fairly early on that this illusion he has maintained of all being unaltered in this world is a fabricated one, living only in Syson's mind and imagination. He himself is 'altered' with the suggestion of his attire: "But Syson looked too much a gentleman to be accosted."


He seemed to be living in his 'past' at this moment.

So far in the story, Syson is definitely living in his 'past', as you have so aptly put it.

Also, the words "curiously elated" in this statement: "He was curiously elated, feeling himself back in an enduring vision." are interesting. Why is he "curiously elated" in entering this old world? Why 'curiously' and not merely 'elated'? Do you think it sets up a feeling of 'not quite certain' or 'oddly enough' he is elated...being putting 'curiously' first. Not sure I relayed my idea correctly. Let me know.
"Vision" is also a key word - we think often of visions as being false or imaginary. "enduring vision" is an interesting combination of the words - quite poetic. It also lets us think that Syson feels his vision is 'enduring, everlasting, eternal; and perhaps his mind/memory vision, is indeed.

[Pensive]

Hi Pensive, thanks you.

You are very much welcome! :)


I knew I included much in this post, but I tried to separate the bottom half, starting with the posting of the beginning of the actual text of the story. I know with the last story we discussed this seemed to be an effective way of looking at the development of the plot/story and the themes. With short stories, we have the time to do this in a month or so; we don't have a set time for these to end, actually. It makes sense to go slowly, since within Lawrence's writing there always seems to be a progression and he writes in such a poetic/prose style, giving small hints as he develops the story, as to what will follow. I thought it beneficial to look at how we preceive Syson at the beginning of the story.
I agree, this is a better way to discuss the story. :)


Yes, and the whole line reads: "Like an uneasy spirit he had returned to the country of his past, and he found it waiting for him, unaltered." Two key words exist in that line - "uneasy" and "unaltered".

I think this "uneasy" word is quite subtle, but significant enough to relay to us the feeling that Syson is not at ease in his life. But my other thought would have been is he temporarily "uneasy", while entering back into world o his past? That can't be an easy thing to do. Perhaps to revisit ones childhood area would not cause great unease, but not the actual meeting again of a former lover, which he anticipates. It says "spirit" so I feel it does indicate "uneasy" in a broader sense of the word, as you also have percieved

This line seems to be suggesting ambiguity. I wonder if Lawrence did it on purpose! But I feel more inclined towards the first thought that he was not at ease in his life.


So far in the story, Syson is definitely living in his 'past', as you have so aptly put it.

Also, the words "curiously elated" in this statement: "He was curiously elated, feeling himself back in an enduring vision." are interesting. Why is he "curiously elated" in entering this old world? Why 'curiously' and not merely 'elated'? Do you think it sets up a feeling of 'not quite certain' or 'oddly enough' he is elated...being putting 'curiously' first. Not sure I relayed my idea correctly. Let me know.
"Vision" is also a key word - we think often of visions as being false or imaginary. "enduring vision" is an interesting combination of the words - quite poetic. It also lets us think that Syson feels his vision is 'enduring, everlasting, eternal; and perhaps his mind/memory vision, is indeed.

To tell you the truth, I am finding it difficult what to perceive by these two words: curiously elated. If that refers to the 'eager to learn' curious one then it makes more sense. But I think it's referring here to his odd feeling yet an elated one, that also makes sense. I think when we enter the place of our older-days after a lot of time, perhaps it's bound to happen that we feel strange? Happy, but a kind of strange on seeing the same world after a lot of time?

[Janine]

I agree, this is a better way to discuss the story. :)

Pensive, Glad you agree. I did not want to sound like a 'know-it-all', but this way when we discuss the story there will be better structure to the discussion, otherwise the discussion flies all over the place. I suppose I like to be 'systematic' about this. We will miss a lot just sticking to discussing the themes or proceeding randomly. As with the last two stories we did, we posted portions of the story's text and then we were able to pick out 'key words' and many other significant factors. It will work out well, you will see and be amazed at all the fine layering in the story.


This line seems to be suggesting ambiguity. I wonder if Lawrence did it on purpose! But I feel more inclined towards the first thought that he was not at ease in his life.

Ah - 'ambiguity' is a great word. I like that. Yes, I think perhaps L was trying to make us wonder a bit. He never liked things set or all the loose ends tied up even at the end of his stories. I suppose one can decide for themselves just what that does mean.


To tell you the truth, I am finding it difficult what to perceive by these two words: curiously elated. If that refers to the 'eager to learn' curious one then it makes more sense. But I think it's referring here to his odd feeling yet an elated one, that also makes sense. I think when we enter the place of our older-days after a lot of time, perhaps it's bound to happen that we feel strange? Happy, but a kind of strange on seeing the same world after a lot of time?

Pensive, I think you are totally accurate on this one. I would agree on all you said. I would definitely feel uneasy and strange, wouldn't you?

Good work on this post, Pensive! Can't wait to progress with this story.
But has to wait till tomorrow. Tomorrow I will post some more of the story. I am too tired out and burned out now. My brain is aching...been writing some long posts today....going to relax now....

[Janine]

Tomorrow came and went and now it is early morning next day. I went out last evening. Sorry I did not get to the posting. Too tired and too late now. I will post some more of the story tomorrow. for certain. Putting it at the top of my list. Til then bye.....

[downing]

Hi,Pensive and Janine!
Sorry for missing a few days from here- I was engaged in some trips in the other county where I visited many places and had fun. Saw some great landscapes, too!
I'll wait for Janine to go on with the story and I'll try my best while debating.
I read with curiosity what you wrote above and I agree with you.
As about the line
Like an uneasy spirit he had returned to the country of his past, and he found it waiting for him, unaltered. , I think it refers to the mood in which Syson was when he came again to the place of his memories, but it could also refer to the fact that he had an ''uneasy'' marriage. Do you think he would have come back if he had been completely happy? No, I don't think so.

[grace86]

Just wanted to let you all know I have started reading the story. The weekend got a little hectic with the pros and cons of life occurences, but so far I am enjoying the story.

Janine you mentioned something in the WIL thread about how vibrantly Lawrence describes nature. Wow so far that is what I am continuing to notice.

I could have sworn we heard of Willey Water in WIL though. I will finish tonight and add my comments later on.

[Janine]

Hi,Pensive and Janine!
Sorry for missing a few days from here- I was engaged in some trips in the other county where I visited many places and had fun. Saw some great landscapes, too!
I'll wait for Janine to go on with the story and I'll try my best while debating.
I read with curiosity what you wrote above and I agree with you.
As about the line , I think it refers to the mood in which Syson was when he came again to the place of his memories, but it could also refer to the fact that he had an ''uneasy'' marriage. Do you think he would have come back if he had been completely happy? No, I don't think so.

Hi Downing, so glad you are back! Your mini-vacation sounds lovely. That is what summer months are for - going out and having fun, seeing new places and visiting the country and enjoying nature. Lawrence would approve whole-heartedly. He loved travel himself... and nature, of course, was top on his list. He walked great distances through the mountains. I read in his travel book about these natural excursions. Reminds me of what you have told me about outings to the mountains and caves, etc. Lovely! I am quite jealous of all that splendor you get to see.

Yes, I agree with what you say, Syson must have been restless to get back and at least re-visit once the place of his youth and first love. I don't know if he realistically wanted to really return there permanently, I do doubt it but Lawrence longed at times for the past of his youth, having exiled himself from his country. I think Syson is somewhat like the main character in Thomas Hardy's "Return of the Native"; had you thought of that? But in his case, Syson has had a strong 'love' tie as well to this magical memorable place and also, he is married now, unlike Clym in ROTN. Interesting thought that both men long for world's they left behind and both have become 'gentlemen' in the world's they now come from. Both are unrealistic in their thinking, I believe.
Getting back to the word "uneasy" - it most definitely can apply to a number of things and each person most likely will apply it personally as they see it. I think that Lawrence would want it this way - always a bit of a question in our minds or the 'back of our minds' as to what Syson's current situation is like. We are never given the information on this part of his existence - only that he has married. I think leaving solutions and elements up to the imagination of the reader is brilliant, don't you? Who wants a book or story that is totally spelled out for us? That would be dull.


Quote by Grace

Just wanted to let you all know I have started reading the story. The weekend got a little hectic with the pros and cons of life occurences, but so far I am enjoying the story.

Janine you mentioned something in the WIL thread about how vibrantly Lawrence describes nature. Wow so far that is what I am continuing to notice.

I could have sworn we heard of Willey Water in WIL though. I will finish tonight and add my comments later on.

Hi Grace, great to see you here, also; this is marvelous - so many good discussers/debaters!
Same with me - I got caught up with real life this weekend. I also needed a short break. I was all 'posted' out.

Yes, aren't the woodland scenes beautifully depicted? Just like poetry! I love the decription of the plants and flowers - lovely - and the nests - wonderful. I want to type out a passage in Lawrence's first novel about finding a tiny bird's nest in a muddly field where I believe the tracker left an indentation and dried in the sun. It is so heartwarming and poignant. There are two passages actually that mention this nest of birds; first it is found with the tiny eggs and later he comes across it with eggs that have hatched into new life. It is great and my favorite parts in the entire book. I want to share that with all of you.


Yes, you are very observant, too. This is a something I am quoting from one of my first posts back to Pensive in reference to 'Willey Water'.


From studying WIL, I immediately noticed 'Willey Water - Farm' in the book. There is an interesting map in my WIL book with 'Willey Spring Wood', which sits directly by Haggs Farm. Haggs farm was home to Miriam/Jesse, as you know. I will try to scan this photo and post in the WIL, S&L thread; maybe here too. I had the same distinct feeling that Syson is somewhat a stand-in for Lawrence and his desire to revisit (if only in his mind) the places he frequented while growing up, especially his 'first love' - definitely reminescent of his writing style and descriptions in "Sons and Lovers".
In WIL, in the very significant chapter "Water-Party" most of that chapter takes place on 'Willey Water' - a pond on the estate of Gerald's parent's. It is interesting how all this ties in together. It was all generated from Lawrence's own childhood and countryside. There are many correlations to "Sons and Lovers" and to Lawrence's life in this story, if you look carefully. I noticed that Hilda mentioned that she knew the birds names, but not the plants/flowres. Syson/Lawrence did indeed study botony and loved it, and knew all the names of plants. You can notice how exquisitely he describes them. As Downing describes it it is like a Monet watercolor. I think this but even more vivid than Monet. No wonder Lawrence was great friends with Georgia O'Keefe later in life. She painted those vivid colorful flower blossoms.

Quote by Downing:


I appreciated very much the author's spring depictions, reminding me of Monet's watercolours and the sensibility which relives throughout the short story.
I'll wait till Monday, when the discussions start. I can hardly wait to participate in them and..I'll try my best!

Grace, since then I did scan the map and I will try to post that in here. It is quite interesting to see the layout and what must have been in Lawrence's mind when writing this story and WIL. I believe 'Willey Water - Farm' also appears often in "Sons and Lovers" - am I correct on that fact, Pensive? Yes, Lawrence's stories and novels all seem to interrelate, don't they? Interesting fact.

I will try to post next part of the story and that map tonight. For now real life is calling, but first I am overdue for two PM replies. One thing at a time. Be patient and I will return shortly.

[Janine]

Hi Everyone, Please read my last post, too. In this one I am going to post the next part of the story text and I won't comment on them yet. I would rather one of you start the discussion. Just quote from my postings and begin. We can alternate who starts the discussion each time, if you want, how's that, fair enough? As my good friend, Downing calls me (joking of course) 'the Leader'. So I dreamed up this idea. :lol:....just don't call me 'mom' or 'auntie....someone tried that on another thread ages ago; made me feel ancient... hahaha:lol: Here goes:

Here goes: (one paragraph is from last postings)

Syson turned, satisfied, to follow the path that sheered downhill into the wood. He was curiously elated, feeling himself back in an enduring vision. He started. A keeper was standing a few yards in front, barring the way.

"Where might you be going this road, sir?" asked the man. The tone of his question had a challenging twang. Syson looked at the fellow with an impersonal, observant gaze. It was a young man of four or five and twenty, ruddy and well favoured. His dark blue eyes now stared aggressively at the intruder. His black moustache, very thick, was cropped short over a small, rather soft mouth. In every other respect the fellow was manly and good-looking. He stood just above middle height; the strong forward thrust of his chest, and the perfect ease of his erect, self-sufficient body, gave one the feeling that he was taut with animal life, like the thick jet of a fountain balanced in itself. He stood with the butt of his gun on the ground, looking uncertainly and questioningly at Syson. The dark, restless eyes of the trespasser, examining the man and penetrating into him without heeding his office, troubled the keeper and made him flush.

"Where is Naylor? Have you got his job?" Syson asked.

"You're not from the House, are you?" inquired the keeper. It could not be, since everyone was away.

"No, I'm not from the House," the other replied. It seemed to amuse him.

"Then might I ask where you were making for?" said the keeper, nettled.

"Where I am making for?" Syson repeated. "I am going to Willey--Water Farm."

"This isn't the road."

"I think so. Down this path, past the well, and out by the white gate."

"But that's not the public road."

"I suppose not. I used to come so often, in Naylor's time, I had forgotten. Where is he, by the way?"

"Crippled with rheumatism," the keeper answered reluctantly.

"Is he?" Syson exclaimed in pain.

"And who might you be?" asked the keeper, with a new intonation.

"John Adderley Syson; I used to live in Cordy Lane."

"Used to court Hilda Millership?"

Syson's eyes opened with a pained smile. He nodded. There was an awkward silence.

"And you--who are you?" asked Syson.

"Arthur Pilbeam--Naylor's my uncle," said the other.

"You live here in Nuttall?"

"I'm lodgin' at my uncle's--at Naylor's."

"I see!"

"Did you say you was goin' down to Willey–Water?" asked the keeper.

"Yes."

There was a pause of some moments, before the keeper blurted: "I'm courtin' Hilda Millership."

The young fellow looked at the intruder with a stubborn defiance, almost pathetic. Syson opened new eyes.

"Are you?" he said, astonished. The keeper flushed dark.

"She and me are keeping company," he said.

"I didn't know!" said Syson. The other man waited uncomfortably.

"What, is the thing settled?" asked the intruder.

"How, settled?" retorted the other sulkily.

"Are you going to get married soon, and all that?"

The keeper stared in silence for some moments, impotent.

"I suppose so," he said, full of resentment.

"Ah!" Syson watched closely.

"I'm married myself," he added, after a time.

"You are?" said the other incredulously.

Syson laughed in his brilliant, unhappy way.
"This last fifteen months," he said.

The keeper gazed at him with wide, wondering eyes, apparently thinking back, and trying to make things out.

"Why, didn't you know?" asked Syson.

"No, I didn't," said the other sulkily.

There was silence for a moment.

"Ah well!" said Syson, "I will go on. I suppose I may." The keeper stood in silent opposition. The two men hesitated in the open, grassy space, set around with small sheaves of sturdy bluebells; a little open platform on the brow of the hill.

Syson took a few indecisive steps forward, then stopped.
"I say, how beautiful!" he cried.

He had come in full view of the downslope. The wide path ran from his feet like a river, and it was full of bluebells, save for a green winding thread down the centre, where the keeper walked. Like a stream the path opened into azure shallows at the levels, and there were pools of bluebells, with still the green thread winding through, like a thin current of ice-water through blue lakes. And from under the twig-purple of the bushes swam the shadowed blue, as if the flowers lay in flood water over the woodland.

"Ah, isn't it lovely!" Syson exclaimed; this was his past, the country he had abandoned, and it hurt him to see it so beautiful. Wood pigeons cooed overhead, and the air was full of the brightness of birds singing.

"If you're married, what do you keep writing to her for, and sending her poetry books and things?" asked the keeper.

Syson stared at him, taken aback and humiliated. Then he began to smile.
"Well," he said, "I did not know about you . . ."

Again the keeper flushed darkly.
"But if you are married--" he charged.

"I am," answered the other cynically.
Then, looking down the blue, beautiful path, Syson felt his own humiliation. "What right have I to hang on to her?" he thought, bitterly self-contemptuous.

"She knows I'm married and all that," he said.

"But you keep sending her books," challenged the keeper.

Syson, silenced, looked at the other man quizzically, half pitying. Then he turned.
"Good day," he said, and was gone. Now, everything irritated him: the two sallows, one all gold and perfume and murmur, one silver-green and bristly, reminded him, that here he had taught her about pollination. What a fool he was!

What god-forsaken folly it all was!

"Ah well," he said to himself; "the poor devil seems to have a grudge against me. I'll do my best for him." He grinned to himself, in a very bad temper.

Ok, as you can see this is the conversation between the two men, the ex-lover and the lover of Hilda; also their introduction to each other. Someone pointed out that they liked this part of the story best. Was it you, Pensive?

[quasimodo1]

It is a fine thing to establish one's own religion in one's heart, not to be dependent on tradition and second-hand ideals. Life will seem to you, later, not a lesser, but a greater thing.
D. H. Lawrence

[Janine]

It is a fine thing to establish one's own religion in one's heart, not to be dependent on tradition and second-hand ideals. Life will seem to you, later, not a lesser, but a greater thing.
D. H. Lawrence

hi quasimodo, that is beautiful. I really like that quote. Can I use it for a signature quote? Why don't you join in with this short story discussion? You can find the story on this site under the main Lawrence page under one of the short story collects at the left, think the one 'The Prussian Officer and Other Stories'. We could use some men to balance things out. Virgil hopefully will join in, too.

[quasimodo1]

Hey Janine, It's all yours, after all I didn't write it. Let me see if I can catch up with this. quasi

[Janine]

quasi, thanks! I have been trying to figure out for sometime how to change my signature picture, also. I tried everything, but somehow I am doing something wrong. Help! Does anyone know how to delete the old one?
I have a painting by Georgia O'Keefe I wish to put into my signature. She painted if for L. The quote and a few other L quotes will do nicely.

You can catch up easily with this story and this thread. The story is a particularly short one and takes no time to read. I read it a few times now. It is not nearly as difficult and involved at "The Prussian Officer" which also was quite a long story. Hope to see you in here soon.

quasi, If you want a real laugh check out Quirk's posting, then mine and then Scher's in 'To the Lighthouse'.... referring to my bolding up people's names. I could not stop laughing!

[downing]

Hi Janine and quasimodo! I hope Pensive will stay among us during these disscusions. We'll wait for grace, too and we hope Virg will arrive soon! Quasimodo, join us! I agree with Janine, this is a short story, you can read it very fast! We'd love to have you among us throughout the discussion.
OK, I think I will start. I could hardly wait for Janine(the leader :lol: ) to post the next part of the story. I am copying it again because it will be easier for me to comment it this way and I hope it will be for you too:





Syson turned, satisfied, to follow the path that sheered downhill into the wood. He was curiously elated, feeling himself back in an enduring vision. He started. A keeper was standing a few yards in front, barring the way.

"Where might you be going this road, sir?" asked the man. The tone of his question had a challenging twang. Syson looked at the fellow with an impersonal, observant gaze. It was a young man of four or five and twenty, ruddy and well favoured. His dark blue eyes now stared aggressively at the intruder. His black moustache, very thick, was cropped short over a small, rather soft mouth. In every other respect the fellow was manly and good-looking. He stood just above middle height; the strong forward thrust of his chest, and the perfect ease of his erect, self-sufficient body, gave one the feeling that he was taut with animal life, like the thick jet of a fountain balanced in itself. He stood with the butt of his gun on the ground, looking uncertainly and questioningly at Syson. The dark, restless eyes of the trespasser, examining the man and penetrating into him without heeding his office, troubled the keeper and made him flush.

"Where is Naylor? Have you got his job?" Syson asked.

"You're not from the House, are you?" inquired the keeper. It could not be, since everyone was away.

"No, I'm not from the House," the other replied. It seemed to amuse him.

"Then might I ask where you were making for?" said the keeper, nettled.

"Where I am making for?" Syson repeated. "I am going to Willey--Water Farm."

"This isn't the road."

"I think so. Down this path, past the well, and out by the white gate."

"But that's not the public road."

"I suppose not. I used to come so often, in Naylor's time, I had forgotten. Where is he, by the way?"

"Crippled with rheumatism," the keeper answered reluctantly.

"Is he?" Syson exclaimed in pain.

"And who might you be?" asked the keeper, with a new intonation.

"John Adderley Syson; I used to live in Cordy Lane."

"Used to court Hilda Millership?"

Syson's eyes opened with a pained smile. He nodded. There was an awkward silence.

"And you--who are you?" asked Syson.

"Arthur Pilbeam--Naylor's my uncle," said the other.

"You live here in Nuttall?"

"I'm lodgin' at my uncle's--at Naylor's."

"I see!"

"Did you say you was goin' down to Willey–Water?" asked the keeper.

"Yes."

There was a pause of some moments, before the keeper blurted: "I'm courtin' Hilda Millership."

The young fellow looked at the intruder with a stubborn defiance, almost pathetic. Syson opened new eyes.

"Are you?" he said, astonished. The keeper flushed dark.

"She and me are keeping company," he said.

"I didn't know!" said Syson. The other man waited uncomfortably.

"What, is the thing settled?" asked the intruder.

"How, settled?" retorted the other sulkily.

"Are you going to get married soon, and all that?"

The keeper stared in silence for some moments, impotent.

"I suppose so," he said, full of resentment.

"Ah!" Syson watched closely.

"I'm married myself," he added, after a time.

"You are?" said the other incredulously.

Syson laughed in his brilliant, unhappy way.
"This last fifteen months," he said.

The keeper gazed at him with wide, wondering eyes, apparently thinking back, and trying to make things out.

"Why, didn't you know?" asked Syson.

"No, I didn't," said the other sulkily.

There was silence for a moment.

"Ah well!" said Syson, "I will go on. I suppose I may." The keeper stood in silent opposition. The two men hesitated in the open, grassy space, set around with small sheaves of sturdy bluebells; a little open platform on the brow of the hill.

Syson took a few indecisive steps forward, then stopped.
"I say, how beautiful!" he cried.

He had come in full view of the downslope. The wide path ran from his feet like a river, and it was full of bluebells, save for a green winding thread down the centre, where the keeper walked. Like a stream the path opened into azure shallows at the levels, and there were pools of bluebells, with still the green thread winding through, like a thin current of ice-water through blue lakes. And from under the twig-purple of the bushes swam the shadowed blue, as if the flowers lay in flood water over the woodland.

"Ah, isn't it lovely!" Syson exclaimed; this was his past, the country he had abandoned, and it hurt him to see it so beautiful. Wood pigeons cooed overhead, and the air was full of the brightness of birds singing.

"If you're married, what do you keep writing to her for, and sending her poetry books and things?" asked the keeper.

Syson stared at him, taken aback and humiliated. Then he began to smile.
"Well," he said, "I did not know about you . . ."

Again the keeper flushed darkly.
"But if you are married--" he charged.

"I am," answered the other cynically.
Then, looking down the blue, beautiful path, Syson felt his own humiliation. "What right have I to hang on to her?" he thought, bitterly self-contemptuous.

"She knows I'm married and all that," he said.

"But you keep sending her books," challenged the keeper.

Syson, silenced, looked at the other man quizzically, half pitying. Then he turned.
"Good day," he said, and was gone. Now, everything irritated him: the two sallows, one all gold and perfume and murmur, one silver-green and bristly, reminded him, that here he had taught her about pollination. What a fool he was!

What god-forsaken folly it all was!

"Ah well," he said to himself; "the poor devil seems to have a grudge against me. I'll do my best for him." He grinned to himself, in a very bad temper.



Syson turned, satisfied, to follow the path that sheered downhill into the wood. He was curiously elated, feeling himself back in an enduring vision.
I think this paraghraph shows that Syson had the same feeling that nothing had changed. Could we change for a better understanding the statement ''curiously elated'' with the statement ''strangely glad'' or isn't this the idea? Help me understand this statement: I think that it refers to the narrator's oppinion concerning Syson's behaviour: may the narrator think that he was behaving in a strange manner by being so happy when revisiting the place of his youth because he was married and he hadn't this right? Please tell me how do you perceive this idea.
I would insist on the keeper's portrait. For me, the keeper is the character who represents reality. I actually thought that we could group these three important characters in two categories: the dreamers and those who represent reality. I think Syson and Hilda are dreamers because they don't seem to understand that they've got another statute now: Hilda is the keeper's girlfrend and Syson is married to another woman.
The keeper is the one who thinks logically:


If you're married, what do you keep writing to her for, and sending her poetry books and things?

and he also reffers to this fact at the end of the story:

But if he's married, an' quite willing to drop it off, what has ter against it?

The keeper was
a young man of four or five and twenty whereas Syson was 29:
She(Hilda) was twenty-nine, as he was.

Because the keeper represents reality, I suppose that when Syson meets Arthur-the keeper- he actually faces reality. He finds out that Hilda and Arthur ''are keeping company'', so Hilda appears altered to Syson. We can notice this meeting's impact has on Syson in the following parts of the dialogue:


The young fellow looked at the intruder with a stubborn defiance, almost pathetic. Syson opened new eyes."Are you?" he said, astonished. The keeper flushed dark.

"She and me are keeping company," he said.

"I didn't know!" said Syson.



"If you're married, what do you keep writing to her for, and sending her poetry books and things?" asked the keeper.

Syson stared at him, taken aback and humiliated. Then he began to smile.
"Well," he said, "I did not know about you . . ."

Again the keeper flushed darkly.
"But if you are married--" he charged.

"I am," answered the other cynically.

After the dialogue we find Syson totally changed, the news irritated him and took away all his enthusiasm. He realised that he is not anymore in the ''eternal'', but in the reality which he has to face:


"Good day," he said, and was gone. Now, everything irritated him: the two sallows, one all gold and perfume and murmur, one silver-green and bristly, reminded him, that here he had taught her about pollination. What a fool he was!

What god-forsaken folly it all was!

I am wondering why doe Syson continue his way: he found out that the keeper is courting Hilda so which is the aim of his trip from now on? I'd say that he wants to be sure of Hilda's feelings for him. Is she really changed? he could have thought...

[grace86]

I finished the story the other night. Sorry I didn't manage to get in here earlier.

I like what you are thinking downing but I don't necessarily think that Hilda is in the dreamer category. I think she is realistic.

She was thinking to herself in the story something along the lines of, "now he will see the real me." Syson realized that he had fallen in love with someone different by the end of the story right?

I will comment more later, I just wanted to make my presence known. :D

[Janine]

I could hardly wait for Janine(the leader :lol: ) to post the next part of the story.

Downing, and don't you forget that either!:D :lol: :D :lol:
Anyway I give you a :thumbs_up for your great long post. You are really thinking now. I am proud of you! You bring out a lot of good points here.;)



I think this paraghraph shows that Syson had the same feeling that nothing had changed. Could we change for a better understanding the statement ''curiously elated'' with the statement ''strangely glad'' or isn't this the idea? Help me understand this statement: I think that it refers to the narrator's oppinion concerning Syson's behaviour: may the narrator think that he was behaving in a strange manner by being so happy when revisiting the place of his youth because he was married and he hadn't this right? Please tell me how do you perceive this idea.
I would insist on the keeper's portrait. For me, the keeper is the character who represents reality. I actually thought that we could group these three important characters in two categories: the dreamers and those who represent reality. I think Syson and Hilda are dreamers because they don't seem to understand that they've got another statute now: Hilda is the keeper's girlfrend and Syson is married to another woman.
The keeper is the one who thinks logically:

Definitely out of all three the keeper is the one thinking most logically at this time.
Is ''curiously elated'' same as words ''strangely glad''? not sure they are quite the same. 'strange' can mean really 'odd' or even 'foreign' to the person, whereas 'curious' can mean a number of things, such as in these usages "the cat is 'curious" or "it is a 'curious' situation". I suppose basically, you could call it similar, but not the same. They are both sort of contradictive of the word they are describing; one does not think of being 'curious' when 'elated', but more so one hardly thinks of being 'strangely glad'. Also, 'elated' to me is a little more euphoric than 'glad'. Not sure I am making any sense at all. Geez, all this and I am not sure myself! :confused: I am not a English teacher, just the leader.:lol: But just a note: Lawrence often combined words this way use of opposites or duality.


The keeper was whereas Syson was 29:
The keeper was "a young man of four or five and twenty" ,
whereas Syson was 29; "She(Hilda) was twenty-nine, as he was"


Thanks for pointing out the ages - that is interesting. Must be significant since Lawrence/the narrator has mentioned them.



Because the keeper represents reality, I suppose that when Syson meets Arthur-the keeper- he actually faces reality. He finds out that Hilda and Arthur ''are keeping company'', so Hilda appears altered to Syson. We can notice this meeting's impact has on Syson in the following parts of the dialogue:

I did not requote the text here so please refer back to Downing's entry. This is good Downing; I would agree about the 'reality' aspect setting in, when he meets the keeper. As early as that last closing line, in the first paragraph, I find the evidence of a change in this line:

"He started. A keeper was standing a few yards in front, barring the way."

The way the preceeding statement is curiously elated and suddenly turns this way is alarming at once to the reader; it tips one off that indeed, the scene that Syson is perceiving might not be one of 'reality'. In this single line 'reality' begins to creep back into Syson's existence; there are several key words; first "he 'started".....almost suggestive of Syson being startled, don't you think? second "barring the way" seems significant to me. The keeper is temporarily, obstructing his path back to his past. Interesting, because as we go along, this is significant and perhaps symbolic of the fact that indeed, the keeper's presense will prevent his return to his past for any permanent length of time.


After the dialogue we find Syson totally changed, the news irritated him and took away all his enthusiasm. He realised that he is not anymore in the ''eternal'', but in the reality which he has to face::

This I fully agree with. Whether he fully realizes it at this point, I am in doubt, but he is certainly beginning in a 'subconscious' way to feel his world of eternal bliss and illusion, is being underminded and invaded. His pursuit, I am sure, is not without all hope, but he is mentally tharted in that pursuit by this encounter with the keeper and the announcement that he is indeed taking his place in her affections and is now her lover. Most certainly, male ego also would be playing a role in how Syson must feel during this meeting, and his disturbed moments afterwards when reality is sinking in deeper to his pyche.


I am wondering why doe Syson continue his way: he found out that the keeper is courting Hilda so which is the aim of his trip from now on? I'd say that he wants to be sure of Hilda's feelings for him. Is she really changed? he could have thought...

I don't think he has yet given up hope and I think primarily he came to see her and he did not have definite plans beyond that. Lawrence believed in the subconscious causing man to act in certain ways. I would say that Syson is acting on pure instinct in coming back and much of his traveling back into his lost world of the past is almost subconscious. Since it was born from fantasy and the desire to go back which proves to be illusion for him I feel he does not have a clearcut plan beyond going to see Hilda. I don't think he knows what he truly desires of her at this point. Also curiousity could be spurring him on. As you said, Downing, he wants to be sure of Hilda's feelings for him; I add to that maybe he wants now to be sure that Hilda loves the keeper. Also, I think he would be interested in seeing if she indeed would have changed, as you have questioned.

I like your bolding up of the words to show the "reality", "dream" aspect of the story and the characters you feel represent which. I would basically agree although as Grace points out Hilda cannot be called a complete dreamer. I would have to say she represents both to some degree since the story ends with her own uncertainty about marrying the keeper. She seems to be one of Lawrence's dualities I spoke of earlier. I think that Syson also while within this realm of his past in unrealistic about it but when he returns to his current world he may very well revert back to a state or greater reality. But then the question arises as to what is true "reality" - reality can mean different things to different people. I hope all this makes sense. I think basically Syson is being unrealistic if he thinks that he can pick up where he left off with Hilda. I don't really see him doing so but probably some part of his mind entertains the thought.

Hi Grace, Glad to see you back and joining in. I am glad you were able to sqeeze in the short story between all your current reading. It is a good story, isn't it and a little easier after studying WIL.;)

[grace86]

Back again with further nonsense! ;)

Now that you mention it Janine I do see that Syson isn't completely realistic either. But I do like your ideas downing, they are interesting to keep in mind.

I was thinking about the title of the story: "The Shades of Spring." I am trying to figure out the symbolism of the title. The title seems to convey something incomplete. Okay my brain is farting again Janine :D but I am going to try this anyway.

When I think of spring and people-I usually think of young love. I think it fits here. Shades...hmm makes me think that there are more than one shade of spring/love and maybe they are not complete or whole.

Shades also make me think of shadows, which makes me think of the past...which is what we are seeing her with Hilda and Syson...a shadow of a love that was in the past, or a shadow of love, which could mean it was never real. Hilda mentioned this, that he never saw her for who she was...meaning he was in love with a different Hilda...a shade?

Sorry if that makes absolutely no sense, the brain needs an antacid.

Will come by later to see if I've totally butchered this idea. :p

[Janine]

Back again with further nonsense! ;)

Now that you mention it Janine I do see that Syson isn't completely realistic either. But I do like your ideas downing, they are interesting to keep in mind.

I was thinking about the title of the story: "The Shades of Spring." I am trying to figure out the symbolism of the title. The title seems to convey something incomplete. Okay my brain is farting again Janine :D but I am going to try this anyway.

When I think of spring and people-I usually think of young love. I think it fits here. Shades...hmm makes me think that there are more than one shade of spring/love and maybe they are not complete or whole.

Shades also make me think of shadows, which makes me think of the past...which is what we are seeing her with Hilda and Syson...a shadow of a love that was in the past, or a shadow of love, which could mean it was never real. Hilda mentioned this, that he never saw her for who she was...meaning he was in love with a different Hilda...a shade?

Sorry if that makes absolutely no sense, the brain needs an antacid.

Will come by later to see if I've totally butchered this idea. :p

Grace, I think the significance of the title is excellent to think about. Yes, all the connotations you have come up with concerning the idea of shade(s) is marvelous. You are not being at all deficient in your brain, Grace. I did think the title a curious one, but did not realise it had such symbolism. That is quite interesting.

Now all of you are thinking. This is great!:thumbs_up This is the way to learn and enrich what we have read in our understanding, as we look at each segment of the story and analysis it in pieces in order to comprehend the story and it's themes as a whole; also to discover it's deeper hidden meanings.

Grace,As you well know by now, by participation in WIL thread, Lawrence's writing is multilayered. Already Downing, Pensive and you, Grace, have uncovered some very valuable layers in the "shades" of spring. How true that the word 'shades' can take on so many definitions and be applied to various aspects of this story. 'Shades' also could be the layering of the story and it's meanings. For instance I am thinking of the deeper meaning of the 'layering' of the mixed feelings Syson and Hilda have for each other. We can discuss that much more extensively, when we further delve into the story and encounter their verbal contact which will reveal their past history and this aspect of layering more clearly to us.

[downing]

Grace,I think this is a great idea! I thought about the same symbolism of the ''shades of spring'' and I am referring to the second way of perceiving the title:

Shades also make me think of shadows, which makes me think of the past...which is what we are seeing her with Hilda and Syson...a shadow of a love that was in the past, or a shadow of love, which could mean it was never real. Hilda mentioned this, that he never saw her for who she was...meaning he was in love with a different Hilda...a shade?

But the first idea
When I think of spring and people-I usually think of young love. I think it fits here. Shades...hmm makes me think that there are more than one shade of spring/love and maybe they are not complete or whole. also seems interesting and worth taking into consideration. But what do you refer to when you say that there are ''more than one love''? Do you mean Syson's love for Hilda and probably for his wife? I am confused here.
Definitely out of all three the keeper is the one thinking most logically at this time.


Janine said:

Is ''curiously elated'' same as words ''strangely glad''? not sure they are quite the same. 'strange' can mean really 'odd' or even 'foreign' to the person, whereas 'curious' can mean a number of things, such as in these usages "the cat is 'curious" or "it is a 'curious' situation". I suppose basically, you could call it similar, but not the same. They are both sort of contradictive of the word they are describing; one does not think of being 'curious' when 'elated', but more so one hardly thinks of being 'strangely glad'. Also, 'elated' to me is a little more euphoric than 'glad'. Not sure I am making any sense at all. Geez, all this and I am not sure myself! I am not a English teacher, just the leader. But just a note: Lawrence often combined words this way use of opposites or duality.
Your response enlightened me, Janine! Especially the final note about Lawrence using opposites helped. I understand now the meaning :)


The way the preceeding statement is curiously elated and suddenly turns this way is alarming at once to the reader; it tips one off that indeed, the scene that Syson is perceiving might not be one of 'reality'. In this single line 'reality' begins to creep back into Syson's existence; there are several key words; first "he 'started".....almost suggestive of Syson being startled, don't you think? second "barring the way" seems significant to me. The keeper is temporarily, obstructing his path back to his past. Interesting, because as we go along, this is significant and perhaps symbolic of the fact that indeed, the keeper's presense will prevent his return to his past for any permanent length of time.

I fully agree with you in this case. I also believe that the keeper's position, blocking Syson's way is a symbol. You pointed that out wonderful!

Janine, what do you think? Shall we go on,posting the next part of the story? I leave this to you, because you're the leader!:lol:

[Virgil]

OK, I'm back. I'm not sure I can read through all the previous posts. I hope I'm not repeating. Let me know if I am.

I think the main themes of the story are right up front in the openning paragraphs:

It was a mile nearer through the wood. Mechanically, Syson turned up by the forge and lifted the field-gate. The blacksmith and his mate stood still, watching the trespasser. But Syson looked too much a gentleman to be accosted.
"Trespasser" is what Syson is, both literally on the grounds and figuratively in his trying to maintain a relationship with Hilda after they are both married.
And

Syson was extraordinarily glad. Like an uneasy spirit he had returned to the country of his past, and he found it waiting for him, unaltered. The hazel still spread glad little hands downwards, the bluebells here were still wan and few, among the lush grass and in shade of the bushes.
"Unaltered" is a key word through the story. Yes, the woods and nature remains unaltered, but everything is altered in the human world. We get a series of things altered: Syson is married, Hilda is engaged, and even more importantly, Syson is a different person, not the country, earthy person of the past, but a sophisticated, traveled person.

Another theme I see is that Syson's character reveals itself as childish. To think that he could carry this relationship in holding onto whatever magic was involved is naive, and that is made clear and is the epiphany he has in the story. The narrative movement of the story is this understanding that Syson has. In fact it seems to happen in progressing intensity in each of the three sections of the story. In part I:

Then, looking down the blue, beautiful path, Syson felt his own humiliation. "What right have I to hang on to her?" he thought, bitterly self-contemptuous.

"She knows I'm married and all that," he said.

"But you keep sending her books," challenged the keeper.

Syson, silenced, looked at the other man quizzically, half pitying. Then he turned.
In part II

Hilda was very womanly. In her presence he felt constrained. She was twenty-nine, as he was, but she seemed to him much older. He felt foolish, almost unreal, beside her. and

"You are quite splendid here," he said, and their eyes met.

"Do you like it?" she asked. It was the old, low, husky tone of intimacy. He felt a quick change beginning in his blood. It was the old, delicious sublimation, the thinning, almost the vaporizing of himself, as if his spirit were to be liberated.

"Aye," he nodded, smiling at her like a boy again. She bowed her head.
And in part III

"I distinguished myself to satisfy you," he replied.

"Ah!" she cried, "you always wanted change, change, like a child."

"Very well! And I am a success, and I know it, and I do some good work. But--I thought you were different. What right have you to a man?"

"What do you want?" she said, looking at him with wide, fearful eyes. and

"What do you mean?" she said. "Besides, we can't walk in our wild oats--we never sowed any."

Syson looked at her. He was startled to see his young love, his nun, his Botticelli angel, so revealed. It was he who had been the fool. He and she were more separate than any two strangers could be. She only wanted to keep up a correspondence with him--and he, of course, wanted it kept up, so that he could write to her, like Dante to some Beatrice who had never existed save in the man's own brain.

I hope I haven't repeated anyone's ideas. I think that is the story in a nutshell. There is more of Lawrence's philosophy throughout. I can get to that later.

[Janine]

OK, I'm back. I'm not sure I can read through all the previous posts. I hope I'm not repeating. Let me know if I am.

I think the main themes of the story are right up front in the openning paragraphs:

"Trespasser" is what Syson is, both literally on the grounds and figuratively in his trying to maintain a relationship with Hilda after they are both married.
And

"Unaltered" is a key word through the story. Yes, the woods and nature remains unaltered, but everything is altered in the human world. We get a series of things altered: Syson is married, Hilda is engaged, and even more importantly, Syson is a different person, not the country, earthy person of the past, but a sophisticated, traveled person.

Another theme I see is that Syson's character reveals itself as childish. To think that he could carry this relationship in holding onto whatever magic was involved is naive, and that is made clear and is the epiphany he has in the story. The narrative movement of the story is this understanding that Syson has. In fact it seems to happen in progressing intensity in each of the three sections of the story.

I hope I haven't repeated anyone's ideas. I think that is the story in a nutshell. There is more of Lawrence's philosophy throughout. I can get to that later.

Hi Virgil, good to see you back! We missed you. Thanks for posting something. I know you have been busy. OK, you jumped way ahead in the story, but you bring up some very good points. I intended to post more of the text tonight and will shortly so that we can progress up to this point of their actual meeting, and then the scene in the hut. I like the things you said, and agree. I can see so many keywords here to tip one off to how very 'unrealistic' Syson is in his thinking and perception, and basically we have all been talking about that feeling we have towards him that he is living in his own 'idealised' world whereas Hilda represents more solidly 'reality'; also that the keeper represents the world of reality.

Key words I notice right away in the passages you posted:

trespasser You already mentioned that one. We talked about it before as well. I think it is the first clue and really embodies the theme, as you say.

unaltered I think we talked about his word, but it is definitely one of the key words as well and an illusion for Syson. Also, it sets up the opposite -that the woodlands seem unaltered, but the people are not. Good contrast.

unreal "He felt foolish, almost unreal, beside her." In this phrase the word referring directly to Syson, himself.

different "I thought you were different". Syson's observance of Hilda indicating he thought she would remain as he thought he knew her to be.

This whole passage has many more keywords and clues.

Quote:

"What do you mean?' she said. 'Besides, we can't walk in our wild oats--we never sowed any.'

Syson looked at her. He was startled to see his young love, his nun, his Botticelli angel, so revealed. It was he who had been the fool. He and she were more separate than any two strangers could be. She only wanted to keep up a correspondence with him--and he, of course, wanted it kept up, so that he could write to her, like Dante to some Beatrice who had never existed save in the man's own brain."

This last part really shows just how unrealistic Syson has been, maintaining his own image of Hilda - that of his 'young love, his nun, his Botticelli angel'....and....'Dante to some Beatrice'.
Very significant line - 'more separate than any two strangers could be' - now that is quite revealing.

Virgil, you did repeat some of the things we have been discussing, but that's ok. Your own take on them is always a little different and enlightening. Besides we like having you back; again you have been missed!

[Janine]

Grace,I think this is a great idea!
I also agreed with that idea. Good post, Grace!


But the first idea also seems interesting and worth taking into consideration. But what do you refer to when you say that there are ''more than one love''? Do you mean Syson's love for Hilda and probably for his wife? I am confused here.
Definitely out of all three the keeper is the one thinking most logically at this time.

Downing, Well, now I am not sure what you are referring to. Was that directly in the text or Grace's idea of more than one love? Either way I think that Syson could love two people differently at the same time. Most definitely his love for Hilda would be a young innocent type of love and perhaps his wife is a realistic type love. We keep assuming Syson is coming from an unhappy marriage. Where is that coming from? Nothing I can see in the text gives us that information at all.



Your response enlightened me, Janine! Especially the final note about Lawrence using opposites helped. I understand now the meaning :)
Glad you understand. Of course, it all is just opinion and my own perception of the two words together.


I fully agree with you in this case. I also believe that the keeper's position, blocking Syson's way is a symbol. You pointed that out wonderful!
Thanks! Just the first clue of his being shut out of the life, he is coming to see; that world of his 'past' is being barred from him, in the final reality. He might feel he has 'assess' now, but later we will see he truly is 'intruding' and is a 'trespasser' as was stated from the beginning. Virgil brings this up in his post.

Janine, what do you think? Shall we go on,posting the next part of the story? I leave this to you, because you're the leader!:lol:

Downing, Yes, I still want to do so; this way all of you can see just how the story develops and takes form. Lawrence's short stories have a very definite 'form' from what I have read in my research/commentary. I found this passage in a book in my library and copied it. Here are some quotes from the page:


Although Lawrence is usually first thought of as a novelist, I think the best introduction to him is through his short stories......

he wrote more than half a hundred short pieces of fiction. They prove him to be one of the very great masters of the short story form, sharing with Chekhov a genius for using the briefer medium not merely anecdotally, as in the contemporary manner, or for a swift glimpse into one aspect of character, but for a complete statement of dramatic human conflict......

From the point of view both of situation and emotional attitude, the short fiction is more conventional than the long and more easily received by the naturalistic-minded modern reader. It is also quicker and wittier, and the personality of its author is more consistently attractive.

Now this is just a reviewers ideas, but I basically agree. Often the short stories have not been given their due importance since the novels overshadowed them.
So, I think by posting you can see just how well Lawrence crafted the story and it builts to the conclusion.

Next part of story:


II
The farm was less than a hundred yards from the wood's edge. The wall of trees formed the fourth side to the open quadrangle. The house faced the wood. With tangled emotions, Syson noted the plum blossom falling on the profuse, coloured primroses, which he himself had brought here and set. How they had increased! There were thick tufts of scarlet, and pink, and pale purple primroses under the plum trees. He saw somebody glance at him through the kitchen window, heard men's voices.

The door opened suddenly: very womanly she had grown! He felt himself going pale.

"You?--Addy!" she exclaimed, and stood motionless.

"Who?" called the farmer's voice. Men's low voices answered. Those low voices, curious and almost jeering, roused the tormented spirit in the visitor. Smiling brilliantly at her, he waited.

"Myself--why not?" he said.

The flush burned very deep on her cheek and throat.
"We are just finishing dinner," she said.

"Then I will stay outside." He made a motion to show that he would sit on the red earthenware pipkin that stood near the door among the daffodils, and contained the drinking water.

"Oh no, come in," she said hurriedly. He followed her. In the doorway, he glanced swiftly over the family, and bowed.
Everyone was confused. The farmer, his wife, and the four sons sat at the coarsely laid dinner-table, the men with arms bare to the elbows.

"I am sorry I come at lunch-time," said Syson.

"Hello, Addy!" said the farmer, assuming the old form of address, but his tone cold. "How are you?"

And he shook hands.

"Shall you have a bit?" he invited the young visitor, but taking for granted the offer would be refused. He assumed that Syson was become too refined to eat so roughly. The young man winced at the imputation.

"Have you had any dinner?" asked the daughter.

"No," replied Syson. "It is too early. I shall be back at half-past one."

"You call it lunch, don't you?" asked the eldest son, almost ironical. He had once been an intimate friend of this young man.

"We'll give Addy something when we've finished," said the mother, an invalid, deprecating.

"No--don't trouble. I don't want to give you any trouble," said Syson.

"You could allus live on fresh air an' scenery," laughed the youngest son, a lad of nineteen.

Syson went round the buildings, and into the orchard at the back of the house, where daffodils all along the hedgerow swung like yellow, ruffled birds on their perches. He loved the place extraordinarily, the hills ranging round, with bear-skin woods covering their giant shoulders, and small red farms like brooches clasping their garments; the blue streak of water in the valley, the bareness of the home pasture, the sound of myriad-threaded bird-singing, which went mostly unheard. To his last day, he would dream of this place, when he felt the sun on his face, or saw the small handfuls of snow between the winter twigs, or smelt the coming of spring.

Hilda was very womanly. In her presence he felt constrained. She was twenty-nine, as he was, but she seemed to him much older. He felt foolish, almost unreal, beside her. She was so static. As he was fingering some shed plum blossom on a low bough, she came to the back door to shake the table-cloth. Fowls raced from the stackyard, birds rustled from the trees. Her dark hair was gathered up in a coil like a crown on her head. She was very straight, distant in her bearing.
As she folded the cloth, she looked away over the hills.

Presently Syson returned indoors. She had prepared eggs and curd cheese, stewed gooseberries and cream.

"Since you will dine to-night," she said, "I have only given you a light lunch."

"It is awfully nice," he said. "You keep a real idyllic atmosphere--your belt of straw and ivy buds."

Still they hurt each other.

He was uneasy before her. Her brief, sure speech, her distant bearing, were unfamiliar to him. He admired again her grey-black eyebrows, and her lashes. Their eyes met. He saw, in the beautiful grey and black of her glance, tears and a strange light, and at the back of all, calm acceptance of herself, and triumph over him.

He felt himself shrinking. With an effort he kept up the ironic manner.
She sent him into the parlour while she washed the dishes. The long low room was refurnished from the Abbey sale, with chairs upholstered in claret-coloured rep, many years old, and an oval table of polished walnut, and another piano, handsome, though still antique. In spite of the strangeness, he was pleased. Opening a high cupboard let into the thickness of the wall, he found it full of his books, his old lesson-books, and volumes of verse he had sent her, English and German. The daffodils in the white window-bottoms shone across the room, he could almost feel their rays. The old glamour caught him again. His youthful water-colours on the wall no longer made him grin; he remembered how fervently he had tried to paint for her, twelve years before.

She entered, wiping a dish, and he saw again the bright, kernel-white beauty of her arms.

"You are quite splendid here," he said, and their eyes met.

"Do you like it?" she asked. It was the old, low, husky tone of intimacy. He felt a quick change beginning in his blood. It was the old, delicious sublimation, the thinning, almost the vaporizing of himself, as if his spirit were to be liberated.

"Aye," he nodded, smiling at her like a boy again. She bowed her head.

I separated each speaker and the paragraphs to make it easier to read and observe just what is going on. Basically this is the first meeting of Hilda and Syson again and Hilda's family is present, at least part of the time. It is an interesting first meeting I think, and there are many clues as to further our idea of Syson living in his fantasy world of the past.

[downing]

When I think of spring and people-I usually think of young love. I think it fits here. Shades...hmm makes me think that there are more than one shade of spring/love and maybe they are not complete or whole.

Janine,this was what I was refering at when I was talking about more loves. You're right, we don't know whether Syson has an unhappy marriage. Maybe he just came to visit the place of his youth, to see how things are going and to see Hilda again? For me it seems rather unrealistically that he would have visited Hilda anymore and have that feeling after departing if he had had a happy marriage:


He felt as if it were underground, like the fields of monotone hell, notwithstanding. Inside his breast was a pain like a wound. He remembered the poem of William Morris, where in the Chapel of Lyonesse a knight lay wounded, with the truncheon of a spear deep in his breast, lying always as dead, yet did not die, while day after day the coloured sunlight dipped from the painted window across the chancel, and passed away. He knew now it never had been true, that which was between him and her, not for a moment.

Sorry for posting this ahead, I just wanted to bring an argument to my statement.

Nevertheless, I agree with you:

Either way I think that Syson could love two people differently at the same time. Most definitely his love for Hilda would be a young innocent type of love and perhaps his wife is a realistic type love.

Thanks Janine for posting that reviewer's oppinion...quite interesting and true, I believe. Also thank you for posting the next part of the story. Indeed, this part is important because it reveals Syson's feelings in the moment when he meets again Hilda. I will quote some passages and underline the words which accentuate Syson's emotions:


With tangled emotions, Syson noted the plum blossom falling on the profuse, coloured primroses, which he himself had brought here and set. How they had increased!


The door opened suddenly: very womanly she had grown! He felt himself going pale.


"Who?" called the farmer's voice. Men's low voices answered. Those low voices, curious and almost jeering, roused the tormented spirit in the visitor. Smiling brilliantly at her, he waited


"Shall you have a bit?" he invited the young visitor, but taking for granted the offer would be refused. He assumed that Syson was become too refined to eat so roughly. The young man winced at the imputation.
This quote is edifying for Syson's portrait made by the other characters through indirect characterization: Syson-''the trespasser'' doesn't seem to be sympathized by any of the characters and I feel sorry for him.



"I am sorry I come at lunch-time," said Syson.

"Hello, Addy!" said the farmer, assuming the old form of address, but his tone cold. "How are you?"

And he shook hands.

"Shall you have a bit?" he invited the young visitor, but taking for granted the offer would be refused. He assumed that Syson was become too refined to eat so roughly. The young man winced at the imputation.

"Have you had any dinner?" asked the daughter.

"No," replied Syson. "It is too early. I shall be back at half-past one."

"You call it lunch, don't you?" asked the eldest son, almost ironical. He had once been an intimate friend of this young man.

I have an obscure point here. What is this discussion concerning lunch/dinner about? Syson was there at lunch time(about midday), so why did Hilda ask him if he had lunch? Did people from the countryside call ''lunch''-''dinner''? Please help me at this point.


Hilda was very womanly. In her presence he felt constrained.[/Quote]

[Quote]He was uneasy before her. Her brief, sure speech, her distant bearing, were unfamiliar to him. He admired again her grey-black eyebrows, and her lashes. Their eyes met. He saw, in the beautiful grey and black of her glance, tears and a strange light, and at the back of all, calm acceptance of herself, and triumph over him.

Observe the key word ''uneasy'' which we had found also before, at the beginning of the story in the statement ''uneasy spirit''. See that Hilda has got tears in her eyes, so that means that she still has got feelings for him and that she is thrilled when she meets Syson.


After quoting and accentuating some things, I draw the conclusion that in the moment when Syson meets Hilda and her family, is very thrilled and somehow ill-at-ease. I believe that he isn't sympathaized by any of the members of the family because all of them are we ironic and cold-toned. Maybe Hilda will be an exception, because we remark a change of behaviour when she is alone with Syson:


She entered, wiping a dish, and he saw again the bright, kernel-white beauty of her arms.

"You are quite splendid here," he said, and their eyes met.

"Do you like it?" she asked. It was the old, low, husky tone of intimacy. He felt a quick change beginning in his blood. It was the old, delicious sublimation, the thinning, almost the vaporizing of himself, as if his spirit were to be liberated.

"Aye," he nodded, smiling at her like a boy again. She bowed her head.

Well, I hope all these make sense. I'll end my comment here- I have been writing for a long time and I feel al tired out.
I am looking forward to seeing your oppinions!

Virg,glad to see you back!

[Virgil]

"I am sorry I come at lunch-time," said Syson.

"Hello, Addy!" said the farmer, assuming the old form of address, but his tone cold. "How are you?"

And he shook hands.

"Shall you have a bit?" he invited the young visitor, but taking for granted the offer would be refused. He assumed that Syson was become too refined to eat so roughly. The young man winced at the imputation.

"Have you had any dinner?" asked the daughter.

"No," replied Syson. "It is too early. I shall be back at half-past one."

"You call it lunch, don't you?" asked the eldest son, almost ironical. He had once been an intimate friend of this young man.
I have an obscure point here. What is this discussion concerning lunch/dinner about? Syson was there at lunch time(about midday), so why did Hilda ask him if he had lunch? Did people from the countryside call ''lunch''-''dinner''? Please help me at this point.

Oh I think it's a language distinction. I think simpler country people referred to that meal as supper, while the more sophisticated referred to it as lunch. Lunch is what has prevailed in our current usage, since there are so few country people now. I think it's meant to show the change in Syson from the past.


Hilda was very womanly. In her presence he felt constrained.[/The fact that Hilda is referred to as womanly a couple of times I think indicates how ungrown up Syson is portrayed. Hilda has matured while Syson has remained adolescent, at least in this context.


Observe the key word ''uneasy'' which we had found also before, at the beginning of the story in the statement ''uneasy spirit''. See that Hilda has got tears in her eyes, so that means that she still has got feelings for him and that she is thrilled when she meets Syson.


After quoting and accentuating some things, I draw the conclusion that in the moment when Syson meets Hilda and her family, is very thrilled and somehow ill-at-ease. I believe that he isn't sympathaized by any of the members of the family because all of them are we ironic and cold-toned. Maybe Hilda will be an exception, because we remark a change of behaviour when she is alone with Syson:
Good points Downing. I found that passage where his blood changes very interesting too.


Virg,glad to see you back!
Thank you. :) I see Janine has got you putting people's names in bold too. :lol:

[downing]

The fact that Hilda is referred to as womanly a couple of times I think indicates how ungrown up Syson is portrayed. Hilda has matured while Syson has remained adolescent, at least in this context.

Virg, that's a great idea. I haven't thought of that before.


Thank you. :) I see Janine has got you putting people's names in bold too. :lol:
She didn't tell me exactly, but I think my subsconcious worked in this case.:lol: I know you don't believe in subconcious :lol: How do you call it?Janine told me but I forgot :) Just kidding,Virg.

[Pensive]

I was reading you people's points, and I have found them quite interesting! Good job! :)

I was myself wondering about the title 'Shades of Spring' and now I have noticed something I would like to quote!


Shades also make me think of shadows, which makes me think of the past...which is what we are seeing her with Hilda and Syson...a shadow of a love that was in the past, or a shadow of love, which could mean it was never real. Hilda mentioned this, that he never saw her for who she was...meaning he was in love with a different Hilda...a shade?

This is a good theory, but personally I feel inclined towards another simple one: you see shade can be referred to a screen from light, complete darkness or even something unpleasant. Syson comes here in the spring, found his ex-lover in love with someone else and has to go away, and it is clear he doesn't seem very happy going back. This is something 'unpleasant' for him in what's-thought-to-be-a-beautiful-spring.

[Janine]

I was reading you people's points, and I have found them quite interesting! Good job! :)

I was myself wondering about the title 'Shades of Spring' and now I have noticed something I would like to quote!



This is a good theory, but personally I feel inclined towards another simple one: you see shade can be referred to a screen from light, complete darkness or even something unpleasant. Syson comes here in the spring, found his ex-lover in love with someone else and has to go away, and it is clear he doesn't seem very happy going back. This is something 'unpleasant' for him in what's-thought-to-be-a-beautiful-spring.

Wow, I too have read everyone's posts, as Pensive did and commented, and found them all very interesting. All of you got busy, while I was gone; I am so glad to see all these great posts.
Downing, you did a fine job quoting the passages and picking out key words. I liked your comments very much. I feel nearly the same on all you have said. In essense, I feel as Virgil and you have stated, that these passages set up even more distinctly the distance between Syson and Hilda's two worlds, such as the dinner-time question. I believe in the country a main meal was partaken of in the mid-day whereas in more genteel society, a tea is served around 4,5 o'clock and then later - perhaps about 8 o'clock a large main meal is presented. Therefore, I would think this is what they are referring to. Afterall, in the country people went to bed earlier most likely; therefore to eat the main meal in the daytime was not so unusual. At least I gather this from all my years of watching English adaptations on film.:lol: manolia - where are you? - she would laugh! :D

I think that Virgil further pointed out the difference in the two former lovers. Syson has stayed younger and immature as compared to Hilda who is mentioned as being womanly throughout the text. Also could it be that in Syson's perception he had not expected her to be so but like she was when he had left. One does tend to preserve a person in that image when they last saw them. I have done this myself. Recently, I thought of someone from years ago and always that person has been preserved in my memory as just as he was. It suddenly dawned on me the man would now be middle-aged! I had to laugh at my own distorted perception and memory. So here we have some years that have passed. The meeting itself after so many years would be traumatic to all including her family. I get the impression Syson left her and she was hurt by it at the time. Now Syson is holding onto the past but Hilda has moved on with her life. This story is very much about change. How some people stay stagnant and others move on emotionally. I think the tears in Hilda's eyes do not neccessarily indicate to me that she still loves Syson, but a part of her probably does or will forever if indeed she once did love him. But that is an immature love they would have had. Syson longs for that but it is only an illusion - a 'shade'. Pensive has explored the word more deeply in her post and pointed out good ideas on the word. I think the tears are also a reaction to his return and stirring up the feelings that Hilda must have had being left behind or hurt by Syson. That deep kind of rejection and hurt never really goes entirely away. Now she has moved on, but part of her remains faithful to her memories and affection for Syson. Obviously she has kept some part of him, by accepting his letters and poems. I think she accepted Syson from a distance with limitations and learned to live within herself; she mentions this later on in the story, saying she has the stars for herself or something like this, don't know the exact quote.


Syson went round the buildings, and into the orchard at the back of the house, where daffodils all along the hedgerow swung like yellow, ruffled birds on their perches. He loved the place extraordinarily, the hills ranging round, with bear-skin woods covering their giant shoulders, and small red farms like brooches clasping their garments; the blue streak of water in the valley, the bareness of the home pasture, the sound of myriad-threaded bird-singing, which went mostly unheard. To his last day, he would dream of this place, when he felt the sun on his face, or saw the small handfuls of snow between the winter twigs, or smelt the coming of spring.

As a stylist in his writing I know Virgil will agree with me on this one, we both think L is extraordinary. I absolutely love this line in the story - "where daffodils all along the hedgerow swung like yellow, ruffled birds on their perches." - the imagery is so lovely, don't you think?
This whole paragraph with Syson thinking how "He loved the place extraodinarily" and "To his last day, he would dream of this place"

"To his last day, he would dream of this place, when he felt the sun on his face, or saw the small handfuls of snow between the winter twigs, or smelt the coming of spring."

Another exquiste line I think and probably so true of Lawrence himself. I have read some passages in his letters indicating this very thing in his real life and the time he spent on Jessie's(Miriam) farm.

In the following passages I will underline key words, phrases:

Hilda was very womanly. In her presence he felt constrained. She was twenty-nine, as he was, but she seemed to him much older. He felt foolish, almost unreal, beside her. She was so static. As he was fingering some shed plum blossom on a low bough, she came to the back door to shake the table-cloth. Fowls raced from the stackyard, birds rustled from the trees. Her dark hair was gathered up in a coil like a crown on her head. She was very straight, distant in her bearing.
As she folded the cloth, she looked away over the hills.

Presently Syson returned indoors. She had prepared eggs and curd cheese, stewed gooseberries and cream.

"Since you will dine to-night," she said, "I have only given you a light lunch."

"It is awfully nice," he said. "You keep a real idyllic atmosphere--your belt of straw and ivy buds."

Still they hurt each other.

Does anyone else find the statement "She was so static" strange? What are your opinions on that statement within this passage of text. Obviously it is from Syson's perspective, don't you think?

Downing posted this already but I wanted to comment. Isn't this passage beautiful and so painfully poignant?


He felt as if it were underground, like the fields of monotone hell, notwithstanding. Inside his breast was a pain like a wound. He remembered the poem of William Morris, where in the Chapel of Lyonesse a knight lay wounded, with the truncheon of a spear deep in his breast, lying always as dead, yet did not die, while day after day the coloured sunlight dipped from the painted window across the chancel, and passed away. He knew now it never had been true, that which was between him and her, not for a moment.

The images are wonderful and perhaps 'shade' could be applied, Pensive, to the "monotone hell" idea in the first line. Also note the contrast of the 'coloured sunlight' in next to last line.


OK, if I think of anything else I will add it later. Thanks for your comments on my bolding up type. Did you see what Scher did about that in "To The Lighthouse" thread (think it was in there).

Again all your posts were great and gave me a lot to think about. Now we are delving deeper into the meanings in the story.

[Virgil]

I was myself wondering about the title 'Shades of Spring' and now I have noticed something I would like to quote!

Shades also make me think of shadows, which makes me think of the past...which is what we are seeing her with Hilda and Syson...a shadow of a love that was in the past, or a shadow of love, which could mean it was never real. Hilda mentioned this, that he never saw her for who she was...meaning he was in love with a different Hilda...a shade?

This is a good theory, but personally I feel inclined towards another simple one: you see shade can be referred to a screen from light, complete darkness or even something unpleasant. Syson comes here in the spring, found his ex-lover in love with someone else and has to go away, and it is clear he doesn't seem very happy going back. This is something 'unpleasant' for him in what's-thought-to-be-a-beautiful-spring.
Pensy, I think both you an Downing are correct. Both theories fit nicely, so why couldn't they both be what he intended.




He felt as if it were underground, like the fields of monotone hell, notwithstanding. Inside his breast was a pain like a wound. He remembered the poem of William Morris, where in the Chapel of Lyonesse a knight lay wounded, with the truncheon of a spear deep in his breast, lying always as dead, yet did not die, while day after day the coloured sunlight dipped from the painted window across the chancel, and passed away. He knew now it never had been true, that which was between him and her, not for a moment.

As a stylist in his writing I know Virgil will agree with me on this one, we both think L is extraordinary. I absolutely love this line in the story - "where daffodils all along the hedgerow swung like yellow, ruffled birds on their perches." - the imagery is so lovely, don't you think?
This whole paragraph with Syson thinking how "He loved the place extraodinarily" and "To his last day, he would dream of this place"

"To his last day, he would dream of this place, when he felt the sun on his face, or saw the small handfuls of snow between the winter twigs, or smelt the coming of spring."

Janine, those are lovely quotes. The descriptions of nature are wonderful in this story.


Does anyone else find the statement "She was so static" strange? What are your opinions on that statement within this passage of text. Obviously it is from Syson's perspective, don't you think?
I find it odd. I don't know what to make of it. I'm not even sure what it's supposed to mean. How does a person go static? Does he mean she's standing still?

[Janine]

Hi everyone (in bold!:lol: ), Please read my previous post; sorry to post two together like this. Here is the continuation of the story:


"This was the countess's chair," she said in low tones. "I found her scissors down here between the padding."

"Did you? Where are they?"

Quickly, with a lilt in her movement, she fetched her work-basket, and together they examined the long-shanked old scissors.

"What a ballad of dead ladies!" he said, laughing, as he fitted his fingers into the round loops of the countess's scissors.

"I knew you could use them," she said, with certainty. He looked at his fingers, and at the scissors. She meant his fingers were fine enough for the small-looped scissors.

"That is something to be said for me," he laughed, putting the scissors aside.

She turned to the window. He noticed the fine, fair down on her cheek and her upper lip, and her soft, white neck, like the throat of a nettle flower, and her fore-arms, bright as newly blanched kernels. He was looking at her with new eyes, and she was a different person to him. He did not know her. But he could regard her objectively now.

What does everyone think is the significance of the sissors and this intimate moment between them? I found the line "ballad of dead ladies!" curious and interesting. Also note the mention of a "countess" - aristocracy perhaps contrasting to the simplistic life of Hilda? He wants him, the gentleman to have the sissors. Aso some significant words, phrases I have underlined.

I will underline some of the key words in next section:


"Shall we go out awhile?" she asked.

"Yes!" he answered. But the predominant emotion, that troubled the excitement and perplexity of his heart, was fear, fear of that which he saw.

There was about her the same manner, the same intonation in her voice, now as then, but she was not what he had known her to be. He knew quite well what she had been for him. And gradually he was realizing that she was something quite other, and always had been.

She put no covering on her head, merely took off her apron, saying, "We will go by the larches." As they passed the old orchard, she called him in to show him a blue-tit's nest in one of the apple trees, and a sycock's in the hedge. He rather wondered at her surety, at a certain hardness like arrogance hidden under her humility.

"Look at the apple buds," she said, and he then perceived myriads of little scarlet balls among the drooping boughs.

Watching his face, her eyes went hard. She saw the scales were fallen from him, and at last he was going to see her as she was. It was the thing she had most dreaded in the past, and most needed, for her soul's sake. Now he was going to see her as she was. He would not love her, and he would know he never could have loved her. The old illusion gone, they were strangers, crude and entire. But he would give her her due--she would have her due from him.

She was brilliant as he had not known her. She showed him nests: a jenny wren's in a low bush.

"See this jinty's!" she exclaimed.

He was surprised to hear her use the local name. She reached carefully through the thorns, and put her fingers in the nest's round door.

"Five!" she said. "Tiny little things."

She showed him nests of robins, and chaffinches, and linnets, and buntings; of a wagtail beside the water.

"And if we go down, nearer the lake, I will show you a kingfisher's . . ."

"Among the young fir trees," she said, "there's a throstle's or a blackie's on nearly every bough, every ledge. The first day, when I had seen them all, I felt as if I mustn't go in the wood. It seemed a city of birds: and in the morning, hearing them all, I thought of the noisy early markets. I was afraid to go in my own wood."

She was using the language they had both of them invented. Now it was all her own. He had done with it. She did not mind his silence, but was always dominant, letting him see her wood. As they came along a marshy path where forget-me-nots were opening in a rich blue drift: "We know all the birds, but there are many flowers we can't find out," she said. It was half an appeal to him, who had known the names of things.

Up until this point that follows Syson is observing Hilda and his reaction to her is interesting. There are many key words in the text to indicate that he recalls how she used to be. What follows is the reality and the scattering of the dream when she announces she has someone, "a lover as well". The beauty and intimacy of the scene up until this point if dissolved by the reality or intrusion symbolically of the new lover. Also, the last paragraph is very revealing with the use of the local language and the 'language they had both invented'; indicating more intimacy. Interesting he points out the 'forget-me-nots'. Also of interest - the word dominent to refer to Hilda.



She looked dreamily across to the open fields that slept in the sun.
"I have a lover as well, you know," she said, with assurance, yet dropping again almost into the intimate tone.

This woke in him the spirit to fight her.
"I think I met him. He is good-looking--also in Arcady."

Without answering, she turned into a dark path that led up-hill, where the trees and undergrowth were very thick.
"They did well," she said at length, "to have various altars to various gods, in old days."

Seems significant - this line various altars to various gods, in old days. I wonder if this could be a metaphor for how Syson worshiped Hilda in old days or a suggestion of it. Any opinions? Also if you notice now the scene has shifted from light to darkness - "turned into a dark path that led up-hill" seems significant to me and echoes the change in mood.



"Ah yes!" he agreed. "To whom is the new one?"

"There are no old ones," she said. "I was always looking for this."

"And whose is it?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said, looking full at him.

"I'm very glad, for your sake," he said, "that you are satisfied."

"Aye--but the man doesn't matter so much," she said. There was a pause.

"No!" he exclaimed, astonished, yet recognizing her as her real self.

"It is one's self that matters," she said. "Whether one is being one's own self and serving one's own God."

There was silence, during which he pondered. The path was almost flowerless, gloomy. At the side, his heels sank into soft clay.


This sunny scene has now turned to one of flowerless gloom - interesting don't you think? Also, Lawrence mentions soft clay often in his stories.
I think Virgil might be able to tell us the significance of this reference. I may have missed some significant phrases, words. Please everyone add comments to this text and the key words I sited.

[downing]

I was myself wondering about the title 'Shades of Spring' and now I have noticed something I would like to quote!



Shades also make me think of shadows, which makes me think of the past...which is what we are seeing her with Hilda and Syson...a shadow of a love that was in the past, or a shadow of love, which could mean it was never real. Hilda mentioned this, that he never saw her for who she was...meaning he was in love with a different Hilda...a shade?

This is a good theory, but personally I feel inclined towards another simple one: you see shade can be referred to a screen from light, complete darkness or even something unpleasant. Syson comes here in the spring, found his ex-lover in love with someone else and has to go away, and it is clear he doesn't seem very happy going back. This is something 'unpleasant' for him in what's-thought-to-be-a-beautiful-spring.

Pensy, I think both you an Downing are correct. Both theories fit nicely, so why couldn't they both be what he intended.

Virg, it was grace who came with that theory, not me:). I agree with you, both Pensive and grace are right.




Does anyone else find the statement "She was so static" strange? What are your opinions on that statement within this passage of text. Obviously it is from Syson's perspective, don't you think?

I find it odd. I don't know what to make of it. I'm not even sure what it's supposed to mean. How does a person go static? Does he mean she's standing still?

I also find this a bit wierd. I think that it could be connected to Hilda's later statement: "I am like a plant,I can only grow in my own soil."Perhaps it refers to the fact that, unlike Syson, she was quite ''static''...she needed ''this environment'' as she says at a certain point.





Syson went round the buildings, and into the orchard at the back of the house, where daffodils all along the hedgerow swung like yellow, ruffled birds on their perches. He loved the place extraordinarily, the hills ranging round, with bear-skin woods covering their giant shoulders, and small red farms like brooches clasping their garments; the blue streak of water in the valley, the bareness of the home pasture, the sound of myriad-threaded bird-singing, which went mostly unheard. To his last day, he would dream of this place, when he felt the sun on his face, or saw the small handfuls of snow between the winter twigs, or smelt the coming of spring.


As a stylist in his writing I know Virgil will agree with me on this one, we both think L is extraordinary. I absolutely love this line in the story - "where daffodils all along the hedgerow swung like yellow, ruffled birds on their perches." - the imagery is so lovely, don't you think?
This whole paragraph with Syson thinking how "He loved the place extraodinarily" and "To his last day, he would dream of this place"


Janine, those are lovely quotes. The descriptions of nature are wonderful in this story.
I agree with you both. I was also impressed by the nature depictions Lawrence used. :)


What does everyone think is the significance of the sissors and this intimate moment between them? I found the line "ballad of dead ladies!" curious and interesting. Also note the mention of a "countess" - aristocracy perhaps contrasting to the simplistic life of Hilda? He wants him, the gentleman to have the sissors. Aso some significant words, phrases I have underlined.

I don't know what is about that countess. Did there live a countess in Hilda's house years before? I don't know what this is about, but this paragraph does certainly represent, as Janine said, an intimacy moment between Syson and Hilda. Also the quote about the ''ballad of dead ladies'' is strange...I'm curious what Virgil thinks about this passage.


She looked dreamily across to the open fields that slept in the sun.
"I have a lover as well, you know," she said, with assurance, yet dropping again almost into the intimate tone.

This woke in him the spirit to fight her.
"I think I met him. He is good-looking--also in Arcady."

Without answering, she turned into a dark path that led up-hill, where the trees and undergrowth were very thick.
"They did well," she said at length, "to have various altars to various gods, in old days."

Seems significant - this line various altars to various gods, in old days. I wonder if this could be a metaphor for how Syson worshiped Hilda in old days or a suggestion of it. Any opinions? Also if you notice now the scene has shifted from light to darkness - "turned into a dark path that led up-hill" seems significant to me and echoes the change in mood.

Thanks for pointing this out, Janine! When I read this dialogue, I thought that the altar refers to Hilda's love for Syson-years ago and for the keeper-in the present.I guess that the next part of the dialogue accetuates this aspect:


"Ah yes!" he agreed. "To whom is the new one?"

"There are no old ones," she said. "I was always looking for this."

Well, her reply makes me think that she never loved Syson... I really don't know what to believe. Maybe my interpretation is not good. If we apply this interpretation to the whole text, we find out that the Hilda's tears we talked about before might mean something else than love...Help me over here, I am confused.

[quasimodo1]

Be still when you have nothing to say; when genuine passion moves you, say what you've got to say, and say it hot.
D. H. Lawrence

[Janine]

Be still when you have nothing to say; when genuine passion moves you, say what you've got to say, and say it hot.
D. H. Lawrence

Good post Downing, I will wait and let Virgil answer it or anyone else who jumps in. I want to see if anyone can answer some of your questions, since I don't have any ideas now as to what L meant by certain phrases or words. I will have to think more about it.
quasi - nice quote, isn't it? I have a whole page in my file of these quotes of L's. We probably found the same site online. ;)

I have a map of Lawrence's area (I scanned) and it includes 'Willey-Water' (note near the top of map, Willey Spring Wood) which someone pointed out was used in "Women in Love"; I also think it was in "Sons and Lovers". Below and little to the right of 'Willey Spring Wood' there is an area of water with a 'boat house' at the bottom. I think that is probably 'Willey-Water.' I think that 'Haggs Farm' would be the stand-in for Hilda's family's farm and house.
It very well must be the area that Lawrence is writing about in this story, with the woodlands and fields that Syson passes through. I thought it might interest all of you.

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/LawrenceMap.jpg

[Pensive]

I think the tears are also a reaction to his return and stirring up the feelings that Hilda must have had being left behind or hurt by Syson. That deep kind of rejection and hurt never really goes entirely away. Now she has moved on, but part of her remains faithful to her memories and affection for Syson. Obviously she has kept some part of him, by accepting his letters and poems. I think she accepted Syson from a distance with limitations and learned to live within herself; she mentions this later on in the story, saying she has the stars for herself or something like this, don't know the exact quote.

I agree with you, Janine! I don't think the tears in Hilda's eyes indicated her love for Syson (though it is possible) but rather she shed those tears because of the memories Syson must have brought with him.



Thanks for your comments on my bolding up type. Did you see what Scher did about that in "To The Lighthouse" thread (think it was in there).

Hehe, yes, I did, Janine! :p


Pensy, I think both you an Downing are correct. Both theories fit nicely, so why couldn't they both be what he intended.

You are right, this can be so! Lawrence already seems to be in love with ambiguity. :p

And thanks for showing us the map, Janine! :)

[Janine]

I agree with you, Janine! I don't think the tears in Hilda's eyes indicated her love for Syson (though it is possible) but rather she shed those tears because of the memories Syson must have brought with him.

Pensive, oh good, so we are in agreement. I think the tears are from the hurt she has endured in the past.


Hehe, yes, I did, Janine! :p

Very funny!!!:lol: :lol: :lol: If you noticed I have reduced it back to 1. I am shy now.....:)


You are right, this can be so! Lawrence already seems to be in love with ambiguity. :p

He does indeed. I think that is what fascinates me about him. His writing always gives me something to figure out.;)

Will be right back - want to post next part of story.

Next part of the story starts with III:


III

"I," she said, very slowly, "I was married the same night as you."
He looked at her.

"Not legally, of course," she replied. "But--actually."

"To the keeper?" he said, not knowing what else to say.
She turned to him.

"You thought I could not?" she said. But the flush was deep in her cheek and throat, for all her assurance.

Still he would not say anything.

"You see"--she was making an effort to explain--"I had to understand also."

"And what does it amount to, this understanding?" he asked.

"A very great deal--does it not to you?" she replied. "One is free."

"And you are not disappointed?"

"Far from it!" Her tone was deep and sincere.

"You love him?"

"Yes, I love him."

"Good!" he said.

This silenced her for a while.

"Here, among his things, I love him," she said.

His conceit would not let him be silent.
"It needs this setting?" he asked.

"It does," she cried. "You were always making me to be not myself."

He laughed shortly.
"But is it a matter of surroundings?" he said. He had considered her all spirit.

"I am like a plant," she replied. "I can only grow in my own soil."

[downing]

Good Janine, thanks for posting the next part of the story! I will make a few statements concerning it; I will quote and underline the things that seem important to me and I'll try to interpret them as well. I've also got some questions-I hope the debaters will help me find an answer to them;).


But the flush was deep in her cheek and throat, for all her assurance.

Does the flush affirm the idea that Hilda was ''married'' ''actually'' to the keeper?


"You see"--she was making an effort to explain--"I had to understand also."

"And what does it amount to, this understanding?" he asked.

"A very great deal--does it not to you?" she replied. "One is free."

"And you are not disappointed?"

"Far from it!" Her tone was deep and sincere.

Sincerely, I don't get this. Of what understanding is Hilda talking about?




"Here, among his things, I love him," she said.

His conceit would not let him be silent.
"It needs this setting?" he asked.

"It does," she cried. "You were always making me to be not myself."

He laughed shortly.
"But is it a matter of surroundings?" he said. He had considered her all spirit.

"I am like a plant," she replied. "I can only grow in my own soil."

This part of the dialogue accentuates the difference between the two characters; Hilda is ''static'', like Syson perceived her at the beginning of their meeting, whereas he is a ''traveller'', just like Lawrence was.
I think that the quote I underlined: ''He had considered her all spirit'' revolves around the idea of Syson's comprehension of his former love's character. He now realises that she is not ''all spirit'', on the contrary. Hilda reproaches Syson with the fact that he made her feel not herself. This sustains the idea of how much different they two were.
And the quote of which we talked so much about:
"I am like a plant," she replied. "I can only grow in my own soil." which I perceive as rather silly:lol:, shows us that Hilda is ''static''.

Well I have to say Good-bye now for a time(5 days I believe) because I am leaving for the countryside tomorrow.
I wish you only the best!

[Pensive]

Does the flush affirm the idea that Hilda was ''married'' ''actually'' to the keeper?

What do you mean by 'actually' married? I think not if you mean the legal process because she has said herself 'not legally'. It must mean that she started a relationship with him that day.


Sincerely, I don't get this. Of what understanding is Hilda talking about?

I think it means she had to understand it that Syson was no longer hers. He was a married man and had to try to let go of Syson's image from her head.


Well I have to say Good-bye now for a time(5 days I believe) because I am leaving for the countryside tomorrow.
I wish you only the best!

Oh this seems like fun! I hope you enjoy that time! :)

[downing]

Does the flush affirm the idea that Hilda was ''married'' ''actually'' to the keeper?

What do you mean by 'actually' married? I think not if you mean the legal process because she has said herself 'not legally'. It must mean that she started a relationship with him that day.

This was what I meant when I said ''actually''-as you said, the fact that she started a relationship with him that day:



''I," she said, very slowly, "I was married the same night as you."
He looked at her.

"Not legally, of course," she replied. "But--actually."




Oh this seems like fun! I hope you enjoy that time!
Thanks, Pensy :)

[Virgil]

Virg, it was grace who came with that theory, not me:). I agree with you, both Pensive and grace are right.

Oh sorry. Thanks for the correction.



I also find this a bit wierd. I think that it could be connected to Hilda's later statement: "I am like a plant,I can only grow in my own soil."Perhaps it refers to the fact that, unlike Syson, she was quite ''static''...she needed ''this environment'' as she says at a certain point.
Yes!! That is quite observant. A plant is static. That is is also the reason for all the wonderful nature descriptions. Nature is static and so is Hilda, unlike Syson, who has changed into a sophisticated person.

[Janine]

Does the flush affirm the idea that Hilda was ''married'' ''actually'' to the keeper?

To be perfectly blunt, I think it indicates that Hilda is telling him she had physical (sexual) relations with the keeper the very night Syson was married. What a slap in the face that would be to an ex-lover who also desired this type relationship with Hilda! Knowing Lawrence's background and his own relationship with his first love, then his depiction of this in "Sons and Lovers" I think this is what she is talking about. "married" - "actually" in her eyes, but not in the eyes of the world as with a marriage certificate or sealed contract. She has given herself to the keeper, whereas Syson wanted her in this way and apparently she remained pure and like a temple for him. Now all of his reality is shattered and she has progressed from being his 'goddess' into a real flesh and blood person. This ties in with what Lawrence later spoke of as his 'blood philosophy'. You see Hilda has become whole through the flesh and her desire and relationship with the keeper, but Syson apparently is still holding onto her image as untouched and pure and waiting, or saving herself, for him.


Sincerely, I don't get this. Of what understanding is Hilda talking about?

This would be the new understanding between them.



This part of the dialogue accentuates the difference between the two characters; Hilda is ''static'', like Syson perceived her at the beginning of their meeting, whereas he is a ''traveller'', just like Lawrence was.
I think that the quote I underlined: ''He had considered her all spirit'' revolves around the idea of Syson's comprehension of his former love's character. He now realises that she is not ''all spirit'', on the contrary. Hilda reproaches Syson with the fact that he made her feel not herself. This sustains the idea of how much different they two were.
And the quote of which we talked so much about: which I perceive as rather silly:lol:, shows us that Hilda is ''static''.

I agree with all and with everything else that has been added up until this post on the subject.


Well I have to say Good-bye now for a time(5 days I believe) because I am leaving for the countryside tomorrow.
I wish you only the best!

Downing, So happy for you; to go to the countryside sounds wonderful! I know you will have amazing photos when you return. Have a great time.
Of course I and this group will miss you :bawling:.....
BUT there is nothing like good fresh country air to renew a person's spirit. Do enjoy every minute! Lawrence would have recommended those long country walks.;) Have fun! J

[Janine]

Hi Everyone, I will post more of the story tomorrow. Going to watch a movie now. Then we can wrap up this discussion and go onto a new short story. I have a good one picked out already.

[downing]

Hi everybody!!!
I have just come from the countryside- I had an extraordinary time among my relatives! :nod: :banana:Great sunsets seen from the porch and a lot of strolls on the hills and through the woods... at a certain time I felt like Syson walking down the country lane:lol:

I opened my computer being certain that I'll see a lot of new things in the DHL thread(the short story one) and all the time I was at the countryside I thought: 'My God, my friends certainly wrote new things over there and reviewed all this time!'' But when I opened it now, I was amazed! I had read before leving Janine's big message and now I saw that she only wrote another tiny post:lol: :lol: :lol: And I thought that I'll never catch up again with this thread.:lol:
Good, Janine, I am looking forward to seeing the next part of the story. Maybe you'll tell us what short story to read next. I thought we could do another short story this month(July) because we are almost done with ''Shades of Spring'' and it's a pity not to review more if we do have time!

Guys, I missed you all this week! I am glad to be back!;) Hugs to everyone!!

[Virgil]

I'm glad you're back too Downing. I'm glad you had a good time. :) You week sounds very relaxing and idyllic.

[Janine]

Hi, Downing, so glad to see you back. Yes, I think this thread has just been waiting for your return. So happy to know you had such a wonderful week in the country. Sunsets from a porch - wow, how serene and 'idyllic' as Virgil put it. How could you return? I would want to run away all summer long and sit on that porch and read and relax and enjoy the great outdoors. Well, we are certainly glad you did return and can't wait to hear some more of your intuitive posts.

Here is the next part of the story; this will take us up to the moment Syson and Hilda part:



They came to a place where the undergrowth shrank away, leaving a bare, brown space, pillared with the brick-red and purplish trunks of pine trees. On the fringe, hung the sombre green of elder trees, with flat flowers in bud, and below were bright, unfurling pennons of fern. In the midst of the bare space stood a keeper's log hut. Pheasant-coops were lying about, some occupied by a clucking hen, some empty.

Hilda walked over the brown pine-needles to the hut, took a key from among the eaves, and opened the door. It was a bare wooden place with a carpenter's bench and form, carpenter's tools, an axe, snares, straps, some skins pegged down, everything in order. Hilda closed the door. Syson examined the weird flat coats of wild animals, that were pegged down to be cured. She turned some knotch in the side wall, and disclosed a second, small apartment.

"How romantic!" said Syson.

"Yes. He is very curious--he has some of a wild animal's cunning-- in a nice sense--and he is inventive, and thoughtful--but not beyond a certain point."

She pulled back a dark green curtain. The apartment was occupied almost entirely by a large couch of heather and bracken, on which was spread an ample rabbit-skin rug. On the floor were patchwork rugs of cat-skin, and a red calf-skin, while hanging from the wall were other furs. Hilda took down one, which she put on. It was a cloak of rabbit-skin and of white fur, with a hood, apparently of the skins of stoats. She laughed at Syson from out of this barbaric mantle, saying:
"What do you think of it?"

"Ah--! I congratulate you on your man," he replied.

"And look!" she said.

In a little jar on a shelf were some sprays, frail and white, of the first honeysuckle.

"They will scent the place at night," she said.

He looked round curiously.
"Where does he come short, then?" he asked. She gazed at him for a few moments. Then, turning aside:

"The stars aren't the same with him," she said. "You could make them flash and quiver, and the forget-me-nots come up at me like phosphorescence. You could make things wonderful. I have found it out--it is true. But I have them all for myself, now."

He laughed, saying:
"After all, stars and forget-me-nots are only luxuries. You ought to make poetry."

"Aye," she assented. "But I have them all now."

Again he laughed bitterly at her.

She turned swiftly. He was leaning against the small window of the tiny, obscure room, and was watching her, who stood in the doorway, still cloaked in her mantle. His cap was removed, so she saw his face and head distinctly in the dim room. His black, straight, glossy hair was brushed clean back from his brow. His black eyes were watching her, and his face, that was clear and cream, and perfectly smooth, was flickering.

"We are very different," she said bitterly.

Again he laughed.

"I see you disapprove of me," he said.

"I disapprove of what you have become," she said.

"You think we might"--he glanced at the hut--"have been like this--you and I?"

She shook her head.

"You! no; never! You plucked a thing and looked at it till you had found out all you wanted to know about it, then you threw it away," she said.

"Did I?" he asked. "And could your way never have been my way? I suppose not."

"Why should it?" she said. "I am a separate being."

"But surely two people sometimes go the same way," he said.

"You took me away from myself," she said.

He knew he had mistaken her, had taken her for something she was not. That was his fault, not hers.
"And did you always know?" he asked.

"No--you never let me know. You bullied me. I couldn't help myself. I was glad when you left me, really."

"I know you were," he said. But his face went paler, almost deathly luminous.

"Yet," he said, "it was you who sent me the way I have gone."

"I!" she exclaimed, in pride.

"You would have me take the Grammar School scholarship--and you would have me foster poor little Botell's fervent attachment to me, till he couldn't live without me--and because Botell was rich and influential. You triumphed in the wine-merchant's offer to send me to Cambridge, to befriend his only child. You wanted me to rise in the world. And all the time you were sending me away from you--every new success of mine put a separation between us, and more for you than for me. You never wanted to come with me: you wanted just to send me to see what it was like. I believe you even wanted me to marry a lady. You wanted to triumph over society in me."

"And I am responsible," she said, with sarcasm.

"I distinguished myself to satisfy you," he replied.

"Ah!" she cried, "you always wanted change, change, like a child."

"Very well! And I am a success, and I know it, and I do some good work. But--I thought you were different. What right have you to a man?"

"What do you want?" she said, looking at him with wide, fearful eyes.

He looked back at her, his eyes pointed, like weapons.

"Why, nothing," he laughed shortly.

There was a rattling at the outer latch, and the keeper entered. The woman glanced round, but remained standing, fur-cloaked, in the inner doorway.

Syson did not move.

The other man entered, saw, and turned away without speaking. The two also were silent.

Pilbeam attended to his skins.

"I must go," said Syson.

"Yes," she replied.

"Then I give you 'To our vast and varying fortunes.'" He lifted his hand in pledge.

"To our vast and varying fortunes,'" she answered gravely, and speaking in cold tones.

Please comment away on the passage I have just posted. Downing, anyone?

One comment from me. Does anyone else find these line curious?

"I see you disapprove of me," he said.

"I disapprove of what you have become," she said.

Later I will scan/post something I read about this story in a book of commentary, which will interest all of you. Been scanning and it takes time/ patience. After this posting of the story ,I can post the last part and we can wrap up this story for the month. I have another picked out and will post it when this one is done, otherwise I fear I will loose you all to the next story.:lol:

[Pensive]

I have just come from the countryside- I had an extraordinary time among my relatives! Great sunsets seen from the porch and a lot of strolls on the hills and through the woods... at a certain time I felt like Syson walking down the country lane

I opened my computer being certain that I'll see a lot of new things in the DHL thread(the short story one) and all the time I was at the countryside I thought: 'My God, my friends certainly wrote new things over there and reviewed all this time!'' But when I opened it now, I was amazed! I had read before leving Janine's big message and now I saw that she only wrote another tiny post And I thought that I'll never catch up again with this thread.
Good, Janine, I am looking forward to seeing the next part of the story. Maybe you'll tell us what short story to read next. I thought we could do another short story this month(July) because we are almost done with ''Shades of Spring'' and it's a pity not to review more if we do have time!

Guys, I missed you all this week! I am glad to be back! Hugs to everyone!!

Hi downing! Welcome back! :) It's nice to see you again. :D I live at a place which is very warm and muddy, though sometimes I even find it beautiful (especially when it rains), but I wish to go and live for sometime at a place there would be greenery. Lucky you! :)


One comment from me. Does anyone else find these line curious?

"I see you disapprove of me," he said.

"I disapprove of what you have become," she said.

This is making me curious as well. What is he that he no wasn't before? Later, she says, "You always wanted a change," and she said it in a disapproving manner as if she disapproved of it but that means she even disapproved of him in the past??? There seems to be a contradiction over here, but perhaps I am wrong.


Later I will scan/post something I read about this story in a book of commentary, which will interest all of you. Been scanning and it takes time/ patience. After this posting of the story ,I can post the last part and we can wrap up this story for the month. I have another picked out and will post it when this one is done, otherwise I fear I will loose you all to the next story

Thanks Janine for the hard work you do to make this discussion interesting! :) I am looking forward to it as well as the next story! :)



"You would have me take the Grammar School scholarship--and you would have me foster poor little Botell's fervent attachment to me, till he couldn't live without me--and because Botell was rich and influential. You triumphed in the wine-merchant's offer to send me to Cambridge, to befriend his only child. You wanted me to rise in the world. And all the time you were sending me away from you--every new success of mine put a separation between us, and more for you than for me. You never wanted to come with me: you wanted just to send me to see what it was like. I believe you even wanted me to marry a lady. You wanted to triumph over society in me."

"And I am responsible," she said, with sarcasm.

"I distinguished myself to satisfy you," he replied.

"Ah!" she cried, "you always wanted change, change, like a child."

At the moment I am having trouble understanding this. I can't see why Hilda wanted him to move to a higher status and yet she did not want to come with him? It seems to me as if she actually really never wanted him?... :(

[downing]

Thanks, all of you! You're very nice! Indeed, Virg, ''idyllic'' is the right word for my week.;)


Hi downing! Welcome back! It's nice to see you again. I live at a place which is very warm and muddy, though sometimes I even find it beautiful (especially when it rains), but I wish to go and live for sometime at a place there would be greenery. Lucky you!
Thanks Pensy, I hope you will visit someday a nice green country :)

Let me go back to the story and say what I think about it.




One comment from me. Does anyone else find these line curious?

"I see you disapprove of me," he said.

"I disapprove of what you have become," she said.

This is making me curious as well. What is he that he no wasn't before? Later, she says, "You always wanted a change," and she said it in a disapproving manner as if she disapproved of it but that means she even disapproved of him in the past??? There seems to be a contradiction over here, but perhaps I am wrong.

Well, I think that Hilda disapproves the man which Syson became(makes me think of the lunch discussion which Virgil clarified,remember?), a more sophisticated man. I might be wrong here, I am not too sure either.


"I see you disapprove of me," he said.

"I disapprove of what you have become," she said.

"You think we might"--he glanced at the hut--"have been like this--you and I?"

She shook her head.

"You! no; never! You plucked a thing and looked at it till you had found out all you wanted to know about it, then you threw it away," she said.

"Did I?" he asked. "And could your way never have been my way? I suppose not."

"Why should it?" she said. "I am a separate being."

"But surely two people sometimes go the same way," he said.

"You took me away from myself," she said.

He knew he had mistaken her, had taken her for something she was not. That was his fault, not hers.



At the moment I am having trouble understanding this. I can't see why Hilda wanted him to move to a higher status and yet she did not want to come with him? It seems to me as if she actually really never wanted him?...

Pensy, you said this when referring to another part of the story- I won't post that one again, you people can see it in Pensy's post.

I think that the key to all their misunderstandings is the fact that they were different persons and they had very little in commun. I agree with you Pensive, I think that Hilda never wanted Syson: she dissaproves of what he has become and she always wanted to take him away from her.


I believe you even wanted me to marry a lady. says Syson at a certain moment.

Janine, I can hardly wait to read the reviewer's oppinion. :)

[Janine]

Quote by Downing

Janine, I can hardly wait to read the reviewer's oppinion.

Yes, that might clear up a few things here, about why she disapproved of what he had become. Knowing a little bit about his other book, "Sons and Lovers", and the Miriam/Paul relationship, I think that Pensive should be able to comment on the line you underlined, since it relates to that book and to L's real life relationship with Jessie.


"You plucked a thing and looked at it till you had found out all you wanted to know about it, then you threw it away," she said.

I will scan that commentary later and get back to you. Unfortunately real life beckons me today and I have to go to the grocery store. Be back later tonight.

Good posts from both of you - Pensive and Downing! I am proud of you both, getting so interested in this thread.

Glad to see you back Pensive, as well as Downing. Thanks for your appreciation on all my hard work on this thread. I really did try to go the extra mile and now I am quite exhausted counting up the other threads on L, too. L Poetry is still going quite strong and WIL has picked up again, but not at a rapid speed as before. If you get a chance Pensive, I have posted something in "Sons and Lovers" thread, awhile back; I was not sure if you had read that last one. I also have some material to add to that thread from another critical analysis book from my library. I will scan some of the pertinent paragraphs. I am trying to buy the book from Amazon. It is a good one.

I will add more to this later on tonight -- I have a few questions about things you pointed out in both your posts.

[Virgil]

Well, I think that Hilda disapproves the man which Syson became(makes me think of the lunch discussion which Virgil clarified,remember?), a more sophisticated man. I might be wrong here, I am not too sure either.

Yes, I don't recall what post that I pointed that out, but we are aware that Syson has become a sophisticated, worldly person at the expense of the idyllic (there's that word again ;) ) country, natural person such as Hilda.



I think that the key to all their misunderstandings is the fact that they were different persons and they had very little in commun. I agree with you Pensive, I think that Hilda never wanted Syson: she dissaproves of what he has become and she always wanted to take him away from her.
This is an interesting perspective on it Downing. I took Syson to be like Hilda before he went away and as a result of going away became sophisticated. But what you and Pensy seem to be saying is that Syson was already different before he went away, and he went away because of those differences. I wonder if we really know one way or the other? Is there anything we know about Syson before he went away?

[downing]

"Ah!" she cried, "you always wanted change, change, like a child.''


"We are very different," she said bitterly.


You! no; never! You plucked a thing and looked at it till you had found out all you wanted to know about it, then you threw it away," she said.


Virgil, I think these are some quotes which sustain the idea that Syson and Hilda were different even before he had left her. I think that the difference doesn't consists only in the fact that he became sophisticated, but also in their different characters(see the quote underlined by me).


"I distinguished myself to satisfy you," he replied.
In spite of this, Hilda seems to dislike his new sophisticated behaviour. What do you think about this?

[Janine]

Personally, I think they were probably very different in many respects, but liked sharing some deep thoughts and some cerebral things such as the way they looked at the stars or books or observing the wonder of the woodlands. I don't think they had the makings of a long term relationship; Hilda apparently knew this better than Syson, from the start. I think their relationship was too complicated to say whether love ever really existed between them or not, or whether they were truly compatible. I think they were compatible to some extent, since they were attracted initially to each other, but this attraction did not have staying power in the end. Syson, always desired change, as Downing pointed out in her post and therefore this one thing set them appart. Hilda was satisfied to remain where she was - like a plant needing this very soil she grew up on and lived on and was a part of. Syson had much broader horizons to look to and broke from his environment and moved onward. The seeds for each's destiny were there from the start, and only needed to bloom into their own separate forms of reality.

[downing]

Personally, I think they were probably very different in many respects, but liked sharing some deep thoughts and some cerebral things such as the way they looked at the stars or books or observing the wonder of the woodlands. I don't think they had the makings of a long term relationship; Hilda apparently knew this better than Syson, from the start. I think their relationship was too complicated to say whether love ever really existed between them or not, or whether they were truly compatible. I think they were compatible to some extent, since they were attracted initially to each other, but this attraction did not have staying power in the end. Syson, always desired change, as Downing pointed out in her post and therefore this one thing set them appart. Hilda was satisfied to remain where she was - like a plant needing this very soil she grew up on and lived on and was a part of. Syson had much broader horizons to look to and broke from his environment and moved onward. The seeds for each's destiny were there from the start, and only needed to bloom into their own separate forms of reality.

Excellent post Janine!!! Congratulations! I agree with everything!!!

[Janine]

Oh thank you, Downing! My errand was canceled for today - yeah!...a one day reprive. I hate grocery shopping. I do have to go to the library/convenience store after dinner for a quicker trip.

Should I post the end of the story yet, do you think?

Later I will scan the commentary also.

[grace86]

Wow I am a bit behind. Goodness, well as Virg checked out on my blog, real life has me busy. Janine I want to continue to post in this thread...let me know when you have another short story in mind. But I will try to read some of the posts and catch up...I might even have to reread the story again...sorry about that.

[Janine]

Hi Grace, good to see you here again! We missed you. I think if you check over the posts and read the important ones quickly you still can catch up to the ending; you have time until we close this story, to go onto the next story. You could perhaps give your overall impression or thoughts on the story or feel free to comment on the parts I am about to post.

Hi everyone! I just found a great site online - actually I had it in my 'favorites' for awhile now, but just discovered that in addition you can take a virtual tour of Lawrence country, etc. You just need to download a free Flash Player to view the tours. The site is fun to explore with pictures and information. Here is the address link:

http://www.dh-lawrence.org.uk/

I hope that works - it is through the University of Nottingham, which Lawrence attended.

I will post the next part of the story, which should be the last part, actually. Here goes:


"Arthur!" she said.

The keeper pretended not to hear. Syson, watching keenly, began to smile.

The woman drew herself up.
"Arthur!" she said again, with a curious upward inflection, which warned the two men that her soul was trembling on a dangerous crisis.

The keeper slowly put down his tool and came to her.
"Yes," he said.

"I wanted to introduce you," she said, trembling.

"I've met him a'ready," said the keeper.

"Have you? It is Addy, Mr Syson, whom you know about.--This is Arthur, Mr

Pilbeam," she added, turning to Syson.

The latter held out his hand to the keeper, and they shook hands in silence.

"I'm glad to have met you," said Syson. "We drop our correspondence, Hilda?"

"Why need we?" she asked.

The two men stood at a loss.

"Is there no need?" said Syson.

Still she was silent.

"It is as you will," she said.

They went all three together down the gloomy path.

"'Qu'il etait bleu, le ciel, et grand l'espoir,'" quoted Syson, not knowing what to say.

"What do you mean?" she said. "Besides, we can't walk in our wild oats--we never sowed any."

Syson looked at her. He was startled to see his young love, his nun, his Botticelli angel, so revealed. It was he who had been the fool. He and she were more separate than any two strangers could be. She only wanted to keep up a correspondence with him--and he, of course, wanted it kept up, so that he could write to her, like Dante to some Beatrice who had never existed save in the man's own brain.

Up until this paragraph the three characters are together. Now Hilda leaves the two men together, and shortly after Syson is entirely left alone to observe the couple, in finality, in the last scene.


At the bottom of the path she left him. He went along with the keeper, towards the open, towards the gate that closed on the wood. The two men walked almost like friends. They did not broach the subject of their thoughts.
Instead of going straight to the high-road gate, Syson went along the wood's edge, where the brook spread out in a little bog, and under the alder trees, among the reeds, great yellow stools and bosses of marigolds shone. Threads of brown water trickled by, touched with gold from the flowers. Suddenly there was a blue flash in the air, as a kingfisher passed.

Syson was extraordinarily moved. He climbed the bank to the gorse bushes, whose sparks of blossom had not yet gathered into a flame. Lying on the dry brown turf, he discovered sprigs of tiny purple milkwort and pink spots of lousewort. What a wonderful world it was--marvellous, for ever new. He felt as if it were underground, like the fields of monotone hell, notwithstanding. Inside his breast was a pain like a wound. He remembered the poem of William Morris, where in the Chapel of Lyonesse a knight lay wounded, with the truncheon of a spear deep in his breast, lying always as dead, yet did not die, while day after day the coloured sunlight dipped from the painted window across the chancel, and passed away. He knew now it never had been true, that which was between him and her, not for a moment.
The truth had stood apart all the time.

Syson turned over. The air was full of the sound of larks, as if the sunshine above were condensing and falling in a shower. Amid this bright sound, voices sounded small and distinct.

"But if he's married, an' quite willing to drop it off, what has ter against it?" said the man's voice.

"I don't want to talk about it now. I want to be alone."

Syson looked through the bushes. Hilda was standing in the wood, near the gate. The man was in the field, loitering by the hedge, and playing with the bees as they settled on the white bramble flowers.

There was silence for a while, in which Syson imagined her will among the brightness of the larks. Suddenly the keeper exclaimed "Ah!" and swore. He was gripping at the sleeve of his coat, near the shoulder. Then he pulled off his jacket, threw it on the ground, and absorbedly rolled up his shirt sleeve right to the shoulder.

"Ah!" he said vindictively, as he picked out the bee and flung it away. He twisted his fine, bright arm, peering awkwardly over his shoulder.

"What is it?" asked Hilda.

"A bee--crawled up my sleeve," he answered.

"Come here to me," she said.

The keeper went to her, like a sulky boy. She took his arm in her hands.

"Here it is--and the sting left in-poor bee!"

She picked out the sting, put her mouth to his arm, and sucked away the drop of poison. As she looked at the red mark her mouth had made, and at his arm, she said, laughing:

"That is the reddest kiss you will ever have."

When Syson next looked up, at the sound of voices, he saw in the shadow the keeper with his mouth on the throat of his beloved, whose head was thrown back, and whose hair had fallen, so that one rough rope of dark brown hair hung across his bare arm.

I am sure you will have fun commenting on these passages. Interesting ending, in my opinion, with the bee stinging the keeper and the tender/sensual scene that follows, as Syson looks on with various emotions stirring within him.

[downing]

Qu'il etait bleu, le ciel, et grand l'espoir,'" quoted Syson, not knowing what to say.

The verse quoted by Syson is Paul Verlaine's, in his poem ''Colloque sentimental'' which I could awkwardly translate as ''Sentimental discussion''.
And the translation of the verse would be: ''How blue the sky was and big the hope!''. I am not very advanced in translating so please excuse me for not making professional translations :D.


Syson looked at her. He was startled to see his young love, his nun, his Botticelli angel, so revealed. It was he who had been the fool. He and she were more separate than any two strangers could be. She only wanted to keep up a correspondence with him--and he, of course, wanted it kept up, so that he could write to her, like Dante to some Beatrice who had never existed save in the man's own brain.


I love this passage and I think it explains very well what Syson was feeling; I especially like the reference to Dante and Beatrice-very romantic.I think it explains perfectly, yet poignantly, the difference between appearance(Syson thought that he and Hilda could have had the same ''way'') and essence(the fact that they were very different-see the underlined sentence-and could not have had the same ''way'').



The truth had stood apart all the time.


The following part of their dialogue shows us that Hilda is the one who'd like to continue the relationship:



"I'm glad to have met you," said Syson. "We drop our correspondence, Hilda?"

"Why need we?" she asked.

The two men stood at a loss.

"Is there no need?" said Syson.

Still she was silent.

"It is as you will," she said.

I understand that Syson will further decide whether to drop the correspondence or maintain it. I am curious of what he will do. What do you believe? I guess it would be wiser to drop it, because it brings only pain to Syson.


"'Qu'il etait bleu, le ciel, et grand l'espoir,'" quoted Syson, not knowing what to say.

"What do you mean?" she said. "Besides, we can't walk in our wild oats--we never sowed any."

It is clear that, by quoting this, Syson recalls the past. What I do not understand is Hilda's reply. Certainly, ''the oats'' are used figurately, but what do they represent?

In the end, I feel sorry for Syson because he assists at such a ''sensual scene'' as Janine said. I can imagine what he was feeling like. Poor Syson.

[grace86]

I thought it was interesting how Syson went to go and see his "first love" or whatever she was, when he wasn't sure how she would receive him.

He takes a leap of faith I think in going to see her only to find her different than he had left her. But in the end here, it is Syson who makes the move to sever their ties by saying that they would end their correspondence with each other. It is Hilda who asks him why they would do a thing like that. She didn't want to stop correspondence with Syson.

I am kind of curious why she would keep the line open. Although she has changed I think she still might want some sort of link to Syson or maybe she was never fully over him. I've always heard that you will always love your first love.

Then at the end she is very tender with her fiancee/husband. I think she might have grown up and found a second love or what have you, but I don't think she forgot Syson, nor was she willing to.

[Janine]

:thumbs_up Very good insightful posts by both Grace and Downing, I will answer Grace's first.



I thought it was interesting how Syson went to go and see his "first love" or whatever she was, when he wasn't sure how she would receive him.
Yes, Hilda is definitely Syson's first love, and she represents his character of Miriam (Sons and Lovers), and Lawrence's real life first love, Jessie. I have found commentary to support this totally. Directly after answering your two posts I am going to scan this part of the commentary book (so I don't have to type it) and post it. You will see how several of his short stories are based on Lawrence's own early emotional experiences, and his attempt to work out his own personal feelings for his first love and 'love/relationships' in general.


He takes a leap of faith I think in going to see her only to find her different than he had left her. But in the end here, it is Syson who makes the move to sever their ties by saying that they would end their correspondence with each other. It is Hilda who asks him why they would do a thing like that. She didn't want to stop correspondence with Syson.

Yes, he does take a leap of faith going back. I think I could imagine doing this, but I think it would be very very difficult, to encounter your old love in this way, especially meeting first her new love; at this point he very well could have turned away and forgotten the whole trip. Good point - Syson does make the move to cut the ties and truly say goodbye, which actually did happen in Lawrence's real life, I believe; or it might have been that he (Lawrence) continued to write Jessie and she stopped the correspondense. I should look that up, since I forget the details. I don't think Jessie ever married so that in a way she did keep hanging onto 'the dream', but Lawrence did move on with his life and it took other directions, in his travels and marriage.


I am kind of curious why she would keep the line open. Although she has changed I think she still might want some sort of link to Syson or maybe she was never fully over him. I've always heard that you will always love your first love.

I think that most likely Jessie(Hilda) wanted a link left to Lawrence(Syson) - one of a 'dream-state', not reality. This is the impression, I always get of the real woman, Jessie. She was greatly hurt by L. However, she wrote her own novel/memoires about his life later and had it published. If you really want to know what is in the mind of a woman, such as Hilda, you have to read Jessie's 'Lawrence Biography', I suppose. I have never read it, feeling it would most likely be somewhat distorted to please her image of him, when he was young; yet she knew him so well, I feel it also would be somewhat revealing, of the man as a youth.


Then at the end she is very tender with her fiancee/husband. I think she might have grown up and found a second love or what have you, but I don't think she forgot Syson, nor was she willing to.

Yes, as you say, she is very tender with her fiancee, also 'physical' obviously, and she has grown past the early first love stage, going forward to another mature practical love/relationship. However, that last line is almost indicative of a 'wish furfillment' on Lawrence's part, that his first love keeps 'holding on' even in the mental or emotional realm of being. Also, I think that by refusing to set a date of marriage with the keeper Hilda is still holding back and holding onto her past; therefore the ending leaves a question which is very typical of Lawrence and all his novels and stories. He wants us to wonder at the end and what will follow; as Virgil has recently pointed out in WIL thread, 'whither' is a big Lawrence word. He does not use it directly here, but he says in a sense 'what next' or 'whither we go from here?' I feel it is a much more interesting way to end the story and one feels almost the need to re-read the story to try and figure it all out. I think this is L's intention entirely. He wants us to make up our own minds about what will happen next. He is often ambivalent like this with his endings.

One last thought - remember, this story is Lawrence's vision and his thoughts being played out about his own feelings. Perhaps he also wanted to hold onto the vision of Jessie by writing this or actually worked out letting go by writing it. We shall probably never know what conclusion he came up with in his personal feeling towards his first love.

Onto Downing's post!

[Pensive]

I thought it was interesting how Syson went to go and see his "first love" or whatever she was, when he wasn't sure how she would receive him.

He takes a leap of faith I think in going to see her only to find her different than he had left her. But in the end here, it is Syson who makes the move to sever their ties by saying that they would end their correspondence with each other. It is Hilda who asks him why they would do a thing like that. She didn't want to stop correspondence with Syson.

I am kind of curious why she would keep the line open. Although she has changed I think she still might want some sort of link to Syson or maybe she was never fully over him. I've always heard that you will always love your first love.

Then at the end she is very tender with her fiancee/husband. I think she might have grown up and found a second love or what have you, but I don't think she forgot Syson, nor was she willing to.

Yes, it seems to me we would never be able to form a definite opinion about it. Whether Syson was in the heart of Hilda and she wanted him to return back any longer or had she closed that chapter? In this story, it appears Lawrence gives off too 'little' facts and the reader has to deal a lot with guess work...

[Janine]

See previous post of Downing for quotes:


The verse quoted by Syson is Paul Verlaine's, in his poem ''Colloque sentimental'' which I could awkwardly translate as ''Sentimental discussion''.
And the translation of the verse would be: ''How blue the sky was and big the hope!''. I am not very advanced in translating so please excuse me for not making professional translations :D.

Downing, this is great work! We needed an interpreter; in fact, I have been wondering what that passage means. Often Lawrence inserts French/German/Italian passages in his stories and novels. Now I will know who to come to, to find out what he is saying. You are now our official interpreter.



I love this passage and I think it explains very well what Syson was feeling; I especially like the reference to Dante and Beatrice-very romantic.I think it explains perfectly, yet poignantly, the difference between appearance(Syson thought that he and Hilda could have had the same ''way'') and essence(the fact that they were very different-see the underlined sentence-and could not have had the same ''way'').

I love that passage, too. I felt it also explained much about what the feelings between them. The Dante/Beatrice reference is romantic and also 'idyllic', for this is how Syson and Hilda are perceiving the relationship they once had. Yes, Syson's way would definitely not be Hilda's way.



The following part of their dialogue shows us that Hilda is the one who'd like to continue the relationship:

Yes, true and I think that in Grace's post and my reponse I have answered this part by siting the connection between the real people the story is based upon - Lawrence and Jessie, his first love. But in this vision of the past it seems that Lawrence sees the woman as the one holding onto the past and not letting him be free of it. I wonder if pychologically Lawrence wants to be free but cannot in his mind. As Grace said 'they always say one never forgets ones first love'. This is so true, a first love has a special quality to it; this can never be duplicated in successive loves


I understand that Syson will further decide whether to drop the correspondence or maintain it. I am curious of what he will do. What do you believe? I guess it would be wiser to drop it, because it brings only pain to Syson.

It would be wiser, but do we always do the wise thing when it comes to emotions and love? I think each of us have to make up the ending of the story, since the end implies - 'what next?' I expounded on this in my post answering Grace's comments. 'Whither' is a big Lawrence word, so Virgil, has stated; therefore I think this is the idea L is leaving us with.


It is clear that, by quoting this, Syson recalls the past. What I do not understand is Hilda's reply. Certainly, ''the oats'' are used figurately, but what do they represent?

When a man, or woman, for that matter, is said to have sowed his/her wild oats, it implies that he/she has gone out and had sexual conquests. In this case Hilda is saying she and Syson never had any true sexual contact and therefore had no history of ' having sewed wild oats'. This also relates to Jessie and Miriam in "Sons and Lovers" since Lawrence desired sexual relations with Jessie and she refused him/or never truly gave herself up to him entirely. Similiar in the book, but I don't want to say too much about that to spoil the book "Sons and Lovers" for you.



In the end, I feel sorry for Syson because he assists at such a ''sensual scene'' as Janine said. I can imagine what he was feeling like. Poor Syson.

Yes, I thought so too, first walking down the road with the new lover - that was a strange image in itself I felt. In a way he was facing his own feelings doing so, don't you think? Like when one looks danger straight in the face. I don't know, but do you think Hilda knew at the end, that he was there observing the couple and their passionate kiss? I am not sure now; I should go back and re-read the last few paragraphs.

Now, I will scan those pages of commentary; I will have to get back to you later. It is later than I thought here; I have to cook dinner tonight. If we have thunderstorms tonight (predicted), I will post it tomorrow and then post the next story title, as well.

[Janine]

Yes, it seems to me we would never be able to form a definite opinion about it. Whether Syson was in the heart of Hilda and she wanted him to return back any longer or had she closed that chapter? In this story, it appears Lawrence gives off too 'little' facts and the reader has to deal a lot with guess work...

Pensy, good to see you here again! Yes, even though there is some guess work at the end of the story, I think we are given much information, but not enough to definitively solve the ending of the story; but that is ok. Nowdays many films end the same way and one feels this is more interesting and 'thought-provoking', don't you believe? I think that you, having read "Sons and Lovers" can most likely see the parallels and gather more information from the knowledge of the novel of the 'mulitlayered' and 'complex' relationship that Lawrence/Paul and Jessie/Miriam had had; this being expounded on in the novel. I had been hoping you would post, since the whole time I was thinking of you, having recently read S&L's.

[Pensive]

Pensy, good to see you here again! Yes, even though there is some guess work at the end of the story, I think we are given much information, but not enough to definitively solve the ending of the story; but that is ok. Nowdays many films end the same way and one feels this is more interesting and 'thought-provoking', don't you believe?

It depends on the story, I think this is really gripping but it can get annoying as well - making you want to know what author wanted/meant and then this thought you can't exactly figure that out. :(


I think that you, having read "Sons and Lovers" can most likely see the parallels and gather more information from the knowledge of the novel of the 'mulitlayered' and 'complex' relationship that Lawrence/Paul and Jessie/Miriam had had; this being expounded on in the novel. I had been hoping you would post, since the whole time I was thinking of you, having recently read S&L's.

I have noticed some similarities of this story with Lawrence's book Sons and Lovers.

Here they are. I hope I haven't repeated all the things that have been discussed before.

1. The surroundings - very much similar
2. The blame game - again very similar

Hilda complaining to Syson about 'not giving her space of her own' reminds me of something Paul said in the end of Sons and Lovers:

"You love me so much, you want to put me in your picket. And I should die there smoothered."

This is what was Hilda's complaint to Syson.

And Syson in return was telling her how he did 'what she wanted him to do'. And Miriam in the end also complained to Paul that she even gave herself away to him for him, and did what he had wanted her to do.

3. Miriam kept her conversation on with Paul even when he was with Clara, of course as a just friend, and so did Syson and Hilda by letters.

----

This is all I can think of right now about the similarities.

[Janine]

Pensive, this is good; thank you for outlining that so well. I thought you would notice all the similarities and you noticed the key ones in my opinion. The commentary I will post is not very long, but may clear up some points concerning the similarites between this story, "Sons and Lovers", L's first novel, "The White Peacock", and some other short stories, which we will probably be discussing in the future. All share one thing in common - similiar surroundings. Remember you noticed right away or was it Grace, Willey-Water? It seems that and the farm ties all the stories together since they were all based on truth or had a shred of truth in them, concerning Lawrence's early days.

I have to go do errands; when I come back it is first on my list to post again with the commentary and then to progress, if it is ok with everyone (?), to the next story.

And Pensive, some people do hate these kinds of endings. It is all personal taste and some feel it particularly drives them crazy since there is no real closure to the story. I understand how you feel and it most certainly can be annoying to end a story in this way.

[Janine]

Back with the commentary I scanned. It is by Michael Black D.H.Lawrence The Early Fiction. Here goes:


5 Short Stories I

The chronological relationship between Lawrence's stories and the other early writings is complicated. One quickly finds that each work can be given at least three dates. The date of publication is not in itself significant, since some stories were collected late or even posthumously, and others were published in two forms - an early periodical publication followed by collection in a volume in revised form. At the beginning of the time-scheme is another date: that of the personal experience which Lawrence embodies, transmuted, in the fiction. Between experience and publication there are the stages of first writing and subsequent, often radical, redrafting. These three or four significant dates are interwoven with the dates of other stories and the novels being written at the same period.

The White Peacock was rewritten more than once between 1906 and 1909, and published in 1911. The first version of The Trespasser was written in 1910; in the same year the first version of Sons and Lovers was started, the final version being published in 1913. Between 1907 and 1914, when the volume of collected short stories The Prussian Officer was published, Lawrence wrote, published in magazines, and later rewrote the stories in that volume and others which were collected later or published after his death. I deal with those which seem to me most important in four chapters, one placed before Sons and Lovers and three after. The arrangement is partly thematic, partly chronological.

The first story he ever wrote, 'A Prelude', like 'A Modern Lover, and 'The Shades of Spring’, has obvious affinities with The White Peacock and Sons and Lovers. They are all set at the Haggs Farm and use the Chambers family as characters, or touch on Lawrence's relationship with Jessie. Two later stories, 'Love Among the Haystakes’ and ‘Second Best’, offer a different standpoint or a more mature insight. ‘The Witch a la Mode' is set in the Croydon of Lawrence's teaching days, and has a character obviously based on Helen Corke. 'Daughters of the Vicar' and 'Odour of Chrysanthemums' form a natural pair, not only because they deal with the mining community in or near Eastwood.

The four stories dealt with in later chapters come from a new world. 'The Prussian Officer' and 'The Thorn in the Flesh' are set in Germany, and draw on the military life which Frieda Lawrence's' parents knew, and which Lawrence glimpsed in Metz, Trier, and near Munich in 1913. 'The White Stocking' (among the first stories Lawrence ever started, but radically rewritten later) in one sense belongs to the Nottingham period, but now looked back on with affection from a distance. 'New Eve and Old Adam' is decisively from a new phase, because it is about being married to someone like Frieda, and because Lawrence is therefore embarked on his main life's work.

In The White Peacock the Haggs is used as setting for a plot which places the interest not on the Lawrence-figure but on George Saxton. In Sons and Lovers the centre of interest becomes the Lawrence-figure Paul Morel, and the important person at the Haggs becomes Miriam Leivers, the daughter. Three other early stories are also set at the Haggs: 'Love Among the Haystacks', drafted in 1910 or 1911, perhaps, but so revised in 1913 that it strikes us as a mature piece; 'A Modern Lover', written in 1909-10; and 'The Shades of Spring', drafted in 1911.

The interest of ' A Modern Lover' and 'The Shades of Spring' is that they show Lawrence circling round his own experience, which baffled him. He searches for ways out of his own emotional block by imagining an alter ego, a Lawrence-figure, returning from working in London to Eastwood, older, more mature, and meeting again an older Jessie Chambers. In 'A Modern Lover' he is at last able to make a frank sexual approach to her. In 'The Shades of Spring' he imagines renewing the acquaintance as an older married man, but imagines also that she has replaced him with a lover, a gamekeeper. In both stories the attempt at a new approach fails -- as if Lawrence in honesty could not imagine a way forward, and reverts into bafflement. But in both cases he has also imagined a second alter ego in the same story, a more successful if limited lover. In 'A Modern Lover' it is Tom Vickers, an electrical engineer at the mine; in 'The Shades of Spring' it is Arthur' Pilbeam, the gamekeeper. These two men have succeeded with the Jessie-figure, who seems willing to settle for them as second best, as the character Frances settles for another Tom in the story called 'Second Best'. The Lawrence-figure who is imagined returning home in these is more mature as well as older than Cyril Beardsall in The White Peacock. He has ceased to be the unfocused 'I' who tells that yet cannot present himself from outside. He now becomes a 'he', though he remains the principal centre of consciousness. He worked in the metropolitan south, where Cyril also went; while he was there some maturing process has taken place which makes him to come back to square accounts. The maturing is not only a process of meeting other people, especially women, becoming involved with them; it is also a matter of recognising a special fate or vocation.

Tomorrow I will make some comments on this commentary, but for the most part I think you can get the general idea of how the stories inter-relate and how they reflect Lawrence's own experiences and his desire to work out his thoughts/conflicts in his stories.

Jessie was Lawrence's first girlfriend
Frieda was Lawrence's wife
Cyril is L's alterego or counterpart in The White Peacock, his first novel.
We discussed 'The Prussian Officer'
Haggs farm was in Sons and Lovers, etc and represented Jessie's family's farm.


The next story we will be reading is:


The White Stocking

[Janine]

Basically, in the commentary above I wanted to point out the significance in the order that Lawrence wrote these stories. Mostly from 'Prussian Officer' till now, the stories are early ones for Lawrence and embody some of his own personal adolescent/young man feelings about love and relationships. If you notice several of the stories entail developments in his concepts of relationships, so that they tie in with these stories and the novels he wrote around this time. This connection can help us better understand how Lawrence was thinking, and how he was not always so sure of what the outcomes should be. Obviously, in 'Shades of Spring' Lawrence was reliving a part of his life, and imagining what it would be like to revisit his first love and the place he spent much of his youth and formative years, in an around Jessie's family's farm and the woodlands.


The interest of ' A Modern Lover' and 'The Shades of Spring' is that they show Lawrence circling round his own experience, which baffled him. He searches for ways out of his own emotional block by imagining an alter ego, a Lawrence-figure, returning from working in London to Eastwood, older, more mature, and meeting again an older Jessie Chambers. In 'A Modern Lover' he is at last able to make a frank sexual approach to her. In 'The Shades of Spring' he imagines renewing the acquaintance as an older married man, but imagines also that she has replaced him with a lover, a gamekeeper. In both stories the attempt at a new approach fails -- as if Lawrence in honesty could not imagine a way forward, and reverts into bafflement. But in both cases he has also imagined a second alter ego in the same story, a more successful if limited lover.

It is interesting that this critic talks about Lawrence 'reverting into a bafflement'. Obviously, this does come through in the last couple statements of 'Shades of Spring' and might even baffle us, as some have pointed out already. Eventually we will read 'The Modern Lover' and some of the other short stories mentioned in the article. This way, we can better see the way in which Lawrence developed his love/relationship/marriage ideas. 'Shades of Spring' is actually one of the earliest of the short stories written, so the later ones will reveal new possibilites in Lawrence's thinking.


So now onto the next story! I will post soon.

[grace86]

Just posting to let you all know I am reading White Stocking.

I am liking this story more than Shades of Spring. For some reason I am able to visualize the characters better. Don't know why, but with Lawrence's description of Mrs. Whiston, I kind of visualize her as looking like Naomi Watts as she looked in the movie The Painted Veil (Somerset Maugham's book).

Anybody have any clue as to why she sings so much? Janine you mentioned that she seemed flighty, I think you might be right.

Not too far into the story at all, just giving you my first impression.

Will read on this weekend.

[downing]

Just posting to let you all know I am reading White Stocking.

I am liking this story more than Shades of Spring. For some reason I am able to visualize the characters better. Don't know why, but with Lawrence's description of Mrs. Whiston, I kind of visualize her as looking like Naomi Watts as she looked in the movie The Painted Veil (Somerset Maugham's book).

Anybody have any clue as to why she sings so much? Janine you mentioned that she seemed flighty, I think you might be right.

Not too far into the story at all, just giving you my first impression.

Will read on this weekend.


Excellent,Grace!
I also thought of the similarity between Kitty from Maugham's book and Mrs. Whiston; I haven't read the book, but just like you, I saw the film with Naomi Watts! What a good film, isn't it? If you're attentive while reading DHL's story, you could find some similarities between the characters from The Painted Veil and L's short story...in both books there are: a woman who ''is cheating her husband''( I used ,,'' because Mrs. Whiston doesn't really cheat him, as Kitty from The Painted Veil does), a lover and a cheated husband.
I also found some similarities between Scareltt O'Hara and Mrs. Whiston, especially in her way of posing in front of the mirror and daggling her earrings. Both of them were frivolous, but I like Scarlett more, because she was more intelligent than Mrs. Whiston.
As for me, I finished ''The White Stocking''. It was interesting, but I liked ''Shades of Spring'' more. Grace, have fun reading!

[Janine]

Glad you are all enjoying the story.
Can I post the first section of the story soon?
For one thing, I read it awhile back, and it will refresh my own memory.

Let me know and I will post it tonight. J

[downing]

Yes, Janine, I think you could post the first part of the story :)

[Janine]

Here's the first part of the story - it sets up an image of the wedded couple of 2 yrs. Several things/clues really stand out in this 'first impression' of the two people and their young marriage.



The White Stocking

I

"I'm getting up, Teddilinks," said Mrs Whiston, and she sprang out of bed briskly

"What the Hanover's got you?" asked Whiston.

"Nothing. Can't I get up?" she replied animatedly.

It was about seven o'clock, scarcely light yet in the cold bedroom. Whiston lay still and looked at his wife. She was a pretty little thing, with her fleecy, short black hair all tousled . . . He watched her as she dressed quickly, flicking her small, delightful limbs, throwing her clothes about her. Her slovenliness and untidiness did not trouble him. When she picked up the edge of her petticoat, ripped off a torn string of white lace, and flung it on the dressing-table, her careless abandon made his spirit glow. She stood before the mirror and roughly scrambled together her profuse little mane of hair. He watched the quickness and softness of her young shoulders, calmly, like a husband, and appreciatively.

"Rise up," she cried, turning to him with a quick wave of her arm--"and shine forth."

They had been married two years. But still, when she had gone out of the room, he felt as if all his light and warmth were taken away, he became aware of the raw, cold morning. So he rose himself, wondering casually what had roused her so early. Usually she lay in bed as late as she could.
Whiston fastened a belt round his loins and went downstairs in shirt and trousers. He heard her singing in her snatchy fashion. The stairs creaked under his weight. He passed down the narrow little passage, which she called a hall, of the seven and sixpenny house which was his first home.
He was a shapely young fellow of about twenty-eight, sleepy now and easy with well-being. He heard the water drumming into the kettle, and she began to whistle. He loved the quick way she dodged the supper cups under the tap to wash them for breakfast. She looked an untidy minx, but she was quick and handy enough.

"Teddilinks," she cried.

"What?"

"Light a fire, quick."

She wore an old, sack-like dressing-jacket of black silk pinned across her breast. But one of the sleeves, coming unfastened, showed some delightful pink upper-arm.

"Why don't you sew your sleeve up?" he said, suffering from the sight of the exposed soft flesh.

"Where?" she cried, peering round. "Nuisance," she said, seeing the gap, then with light fingers went on drying the cups.

The kitchen was of fair size, but gloomy. Whiston poked out the dead ashes.

[Pensive]

About fifteen minutes ago, I finished reading The White Stocking! Without any doubt, I found it a very engaging and interesting story which didn't let my attention waver for even a minute! Every dialogue made me curious about what would be that, that would follow this dialogue. Characters, like Lawrence's other works I have read, were complex but very 'interesting' which were enough to make me inquisitive about them and how they would end the story. They annoyed me. Made me feel with them. Made me even pity them. Made me put (imagine) myself into their situation and ponder how would I have done if I were on their place!
Elsie especially was a great source of annoyance for me sometimes. But yet I could not restrain myself from pitying her, she seemed very shallow. Of course, she looks young but she must be older than fifteen. Even a child of ten can understand what 'loyalty' means but Elsie seemed to be acting worse than a child on some situations. Yet I felt pity for her, why? I can't be sure about that, perhaps on how she got beaten by her husband and perhaps because her 'shallowness' was what made me pity her...


From The White Stocking:

The kitchen was of fair size, but gloomy. Whiston poked out the dead ashes.

Now I am really curious why Lawrence has used the word 'gloomy' here. Was it for just the looks of the kitchen or something more deeper? Perhaps it's the character's mood (Elsie's coldness for her husband) which is influencing the atmosphere? Or perhaps I have become paranoid enough to beat some sentences as long as they don't provide me a meaning (whether true or false)? :p

[downing]

I don't have much to say about this part of the story. Things are very clear. But there is a sentence that makes me think about and admire L's style.

They had been married two years. But still, when she had gone out of the room, he felt as if all his light and warmth were taken away, he became aware of the raw, cold morning.

The structure ''but still'' makes me think that, in Lawrence's oppinion, a man doesn't love his wife after two years of marriage so madly as at the beginning. This is a well known idea, that love dies after some time, and its place is taken by mutual respect and other feelings. Janine, you know more about L, so you could tell me whether I am wrong or not. The fact is that Whiston still loves his wife very much. I think that his later jealousy rouses from this passionate love.

[Pensive]

The structure ''but still'' makes me think that, in Lawrence's oppinion, a man doesn't love his wife after two years of marriage so madly as at the beginning. This is a well known idea, that love dies after some time, and its place is taken by mutual respect and other feelings. Janine, you know more about L, so you could tell me whether I am wrong or not. The fact is that Whiston still loves his wife very much. I think that his later jealousy rouses from this passionate love.

Though I am not Janine and don't think that I know much about Lawrence but I think this is actually a good point. :) I have mostly observed/heard that the romantic passion usually vanishes away as the time passes with married couples. We can't deny it being love but perhaps its nature changes. Things a kind of 'cool down' in most of the cases. But with Teddy, the matter seems to be different. And yes, his jealousy does rise because of this passionate love.

Later, in this very story, the way Lawrence has described Teddy following Elsie like a shadow (I think he has used these very words) also assures this. And his feelings during the time Elsie is jeering at him also indicate this. He loves her passionately.

[Janine]

Hi Pensive - are you trying to imitate me, Janine?....haha. Then you will have to start [B]bolding up everyone’s names! :lol: I do think by now you know more about L than you profess.
Hi Downing - I am back and trying to think. My poor brain is tired out by now; it is the weekend.
I am glad, P, you liked the story so much. D, I thought you would say you that you liked the other story best of the two. I know you both so well by now; you two have done a good job in starting the discussion off. Thanks!

Here is the story again and I will underline somethings I wish to discuss.


"I'm getting up, Teddilinks," said Mrs Whiston, and she sprang out of bed briskly

"What the Hanover's got you?" asked Whiston.

"Nothing. Can't I get up?" she replied animatedly.

It was about seven o'clock, scarcely light yet in the cold bedroom. Whiston lay still and looked at his wife. She was a pretty little thing, with her fleecy, short black hair all tousled . . . He watched her as she dressed quickly, flicking her small, delightful limbs, throwing her clothes about her. Her slovenliness and untidiness did not trouble him. When she picked up the edge of her petticoat, ripped off a torn string of white lace, and flung it on the dressing-table, her careless abandon made his spirit glow. She stood before the mirror and roughly scrambled together her profuse little mane of hair. He watched the quickness and softness of her young shoulders, calmly, like a husband, and appreciatively.

"Rise up," she cried, turning to him with a quick wave of her arm--"and shine forth."

They had been married two years. But still, when she had gone out of the room, he felt as if all his light and warmth were taken away, he became aware of the raw, cold morning. So he rose himself, wondering casually what had roused her so early. Usually she lay in bed as late as she could.
Whiston fastened a belt round his loins and went downstairs in shirt and trousers. He heard her singing in her snatchy fashion. The stairs creaked under his weight. He passed down the narrow little passage, which she called a hall, of the seven and sixpenny house which was his first home.
He was a shapely young fellow of about twenty-eight, sleepy now and easy with well-being. He heard the water drumming into the kettle, and she began to whistle. He loved the quick way she dodged the supper cups under the tap to wash them for breakfast. She looked an untidy minx, but she was quick and handy enough.

"Teddilinks," she cried.

"What?"

"Light a fire, quick."

She wore an old, sack-like dressing-jacket of black silk pinned across her breast. But one of the sleeves, coming unfastened, showed some delightful pink upper-arm.

"Why don't you sew your sleeve up?" he said, suffering from the sight of the exposed soft flesh.

"Where?" she cried, peering round. "Nuisance," she said, seeing the gap, then with light fingers went on drying the cups.

The kitchen was of fair size, but gloomy. Whiston poked out the dead ashes.


Here are words or phrases that are direct clues in describing Mrs.Whitson.

“throwing her clothes about her, slovenliness and untidiness, ripped off a torn string, careless abandon, roughly scrambled, Usually she lay in bed as late as she could, untidy minx.”

So that we now get a first impression that she is quite lazy or careless, casual in her appearance and manor. Even in the lines about washing the cups, she does it rapidly and many of her moments are brisk and impulsive it seems, such as quickly jumping up from bed and being quite playful and flip with her husband. Even her singing is in a “snatchy fashion.” She seems to be very carefree and happy, but not too ambitious or attentive as a wife.

The second part I underlined indicates they are not newly weds, but have been “married two years” , and he is twenty-eight, her age has not been stated yet.

“shapely young fellow of about twenty-eight, sleepy now and easy with well-being. So this tells us a little bit about the husband.

The last two words or phrases are curious – “gloomy” to describe the kitchen and Whiston poking out the “dead ashes” – It seems that the wife is gaity next to this ordinary existence and gloomy room. Also, I wonder if this is prophetic of what will come in the future…not sure.

I get the impression that they are quite different but love each other very much. I can see that he is more layed back and calm and she is more lively, vivacious, playful and careless.





Downing:


I don't have much to say about this part of the story. Things are very clear. But there is a sentence that makes me think about and admire L's style.



They had been married two years. But still, when she had gone out of the room, he felt as if all his light and warmth were taken away, he became aware of the raw, cold morning.

The structure ''but still'' makes me think that, in Lawrence's oppinion, a man doesn't love his wife after two years of marriage so madly as at the beginning. This is a well known idea, that love dies after some time, and its place is taken by mutual respect and other feelings. Janine, you know more about L, so you could tell me whether I am wrong or not. The fact is that Whiston still loves his wife very much. I think that his later jealousy rouses from this passionate love.

Downing, I agree with some of what you say, but I don’t think “love dies after some time”, nor do I believe that Lawrence ever felt the love was gone and replaced with mutual repect, etc. However, I certainly do think that realistically it develops into another stage and is not as it was in the beginning, it is transformed or I believe Lawrence felt it a 'transfiguration'; if Virgil were here, he would be able to better give an explanation of the way in which Lawrence defined that word in relation to woman/man relationships. Lawrence was very aware of these stages of marriage and of the differences in women and man, how this set up challenges at each point in a marriage to make the marriage and relationship work. It takes ‘work’ to be married and as they say eventually, “the honeymoon is over” or that initial ‘passion and bliss’ is eventually replaced by a ‘deeper and more secure’ type of love. Love takes many forms. Mature love is something one has to develop over time. One can not stay realistic and be floating on the clouds forever, real life takes over and married couples have to adjust. I think here, in this particular story, L is exploring this to some degree, and probably the story is quite personal to him, in working out the 'kinks' in his own marriage at the time. In Lawrence’s full-length novels that followed, such as “The Rainbow” and “Women in Love”, even Lady Chatterly’s Love” Lawrence goes into much depth and personal exploration, in order to come to a closer/better understanding of this mysterious bond between man and woman. He also felt this union was mystical and a center of life. He very much was for the idea of marriage as a permanent and necessary mode of living. Within his own marriage, he went through many stages of adjustment. He wrote a series of poems on this idea called “Coming Through”.
I agree that his later jealously does spring from a deep well of passionate love for his wife and maybe more importantly a genuine deeper understanding of her.


Pensive:



Originally Posted by downing
The structure ''but still'' makes me think that, in Lawrence's oppinion, a man doesn't love his wife after two years of marriage so madly as at the beginning. This is a well known idea, that love dies after some time, and its place is taken by mutual respect and other feelings. Janine, you know more about L, so you could tell me whether I am wrong or not. The fact is that Whiston still loves his wife very much. I think that his later jealousy rouses from this passionate love.

Though I am not Janine and don't think that I know much about Lawrence but I think this is actually a good point. I have mostly observed/heard that the romantic passion usually vanishes away as the time passes with married couples. We can't deny it being love but perhaps its nature changes. Things a kind of 'cool down' in most of the cases. But with Teddy, the matter seems to be different. And yes, his jealousy does rise because of this passionate love.

Later, in this very story, the way Lawrence has described Teddy following Elsie like a shadow (I think he has used these very words) also assures this. And his feelings during the time Elsie is jeering at him also indicate this. He loves her passionately.

Pensive, when you said this “We can't deny it being love but perhaps its nature changes.” I do agree and expounded on that idea above. I think there is a 'cooling down' and they say that people can even ‘fall in and out of love’ – if one lives 'day in and day out' with a person the glamour of the moment is not going to stay the same. Brushing your teeth with your spouse, would prove this or sharing everyday mundane duties, will soon bring a married couple back down to earth.
You are right in that it seems that Teddy is more enormored still with his wife and mesmerized in a fairytale fashion by her flamboyance. It does remind me of Scarlet O’Hara and how she bedazzled the males with her liviliness. Mr. Whiston is definitely flamboyant and very much alive. Teddy is very 'layed back' and probably needs this to round out his own 'quieter' personality. They are complimentary to each other, yet trouble/friction will eventually ensue and erupt from that difference.

[Pensive]

Hi Pensive - are you trying to imitate me, Janine?....haha. Then you will have to start [B]bolding up everyone’s names! :lol:

I guess then I am not too good with imitation. Can't write such long informative posts which you do. :)


I do think by now you know more about L than you profess.

I hope so! :)


Here is the story again and I will underline somethings I wish to discuss.

Here are words or phrases that are direct clues in describing Mrs.Whitson.

“throwing her clothes about her, slovenliness and untidiness, ripped off a torn string, careless abandon, roughly scrambled, Usually she lay in bed as late as she could, untidy minx.”

So that we now get a first impression that she is quite lazy or careless, casual in her appearance and manor. Even in the lines about washing the cups, she does it rapidly and many of her moments are brisk and impulsive it seems, such as quickly jumping up from bed and being quite playful and flip with her husband. Even her singing is in a “snatchy fashion.” She seems to be very carefree and happy, but not too ambitious or attentive as a wife.

The second part I underlined indicates they are not newly weds, but have been “married two years” , and he is twenty-eight, her age has not been stated yet.

“shapely young fellow of about twenty-eight, sleepy now and easy with well-being. So this tells us a little bit about the husband.

The last two words or phrases are curious – “gloomy” to describe the kitchen and Whiston poking out the “dead ashes” – It seems that the wife is gaity next to this ordinary existence and gloomy room. Also, I wonder if this is prophetic of what will come in the future…not sure.

Nice commentary, Janine! I also feel unsure about the word 'gloomy'. Can have dual or more meanings. :)


I get the impression that they are quite different but love each other very much. I can see that he is more layed back and calm and she is more lively, vivacious, playful and careless.

Yes, like opposite attract sometimes? :D


Pensive, when you said this “We can't deny it being love but perhaps its nature changes.” I do agree and expounded on that idea above. I think there is a 'cooling down' and they say that people can even ‘fall in and out of love’ – if one lives 'day in and day out' with a person the glamour of the moment is not going to stay the same. Brushing your teeth with your spouse, would prove this or sharing everyday mundane duties, will soon bring a married couple back down to earth.

I am glad you agree here!


You are right in that it seems that Teddy is more enormored still with his wife and mesmerized in a fairytale fashion by her flamboyance. It does remind me of Scarlet O’Hara and how she bedazzled the males with her liviliness. Mr. Whiston is definitely flamboyant and very much alive. Teddy is very 'layed back' and probably needs this to round out his own 'quieter' personality. They are complimentary to each other, yet trouble/friction will eventually ensue and erupt from that difference.

Ummm Janine, you meant Mr. Sam Adams here, right? Not Teddy Whiston?

[Janine]

I guess then I am not too good with imitation. Can't write such long informative posts which you do. :)

Hi Pensive, you may not be able to imitate me exactly but I did get a good laugh from you trying. No one can be so long-winded as I am --- well, maybe Virgil can and sometime manolia writes a long post in WIL. Hurry back, Virgil, we need you to keep Janine in her place!



I hope so! :)
Yes, I do think, Pensy, you have much rattling around in your brain now about Lawrence. Your first book, "Sons and Lovers", reveals much about the young Lawrence. It infiltrates one slowly and takes over because it is so real and the writing so vivid. For me all his writing is like this and by now, I am totally obsessed. Manolia asked me just how many books I owned on Lawrence and I made a rough count - guess how many??? 20 and there may be more I missed! One huge book even contains about 5 of his novels and other shorter works. I have 3 biographies, one on the way from Amazon, and all this is not to even mention all the resource material I have copied to my hard-drive. Duh, well I suppose I know more than I thought. So if I don't know the answer anyone asks me on here, at least I might be able to check all my source material and come up with it. Oh forgot to mention 4 films based on L's books and one about part of his life and poetry. It is a good collection by now.



Nice commentary, Janine! I also feel unsure about the word 'gloomy'. Can have dual or more meanings. :)

Thanks, Pensive. Many things seemed easily to come into my mind last night.
Using the word 'gloomy' could be a device to introduce the darker elements into the story. Lawrence was an artist and a craftsman with his writing. I can see that this part of the story suddenly turns the gaiety of the beginning to a darker view and may speak to us, saying 'all is not as it seems', not total marital bliss at this point. As they say 'the scene begins to pale or darken'.


Yes, like opposite attract sometimes? :DYes, perhaps and complimentary; each person making up for what the other lacks. Often quiet and vivicious people get along well, since they don't compete for attention, even in friendships, and they provide what the other needs to make themselves feel whole. Also, I know from some reading I did last in a commentary by a critic that Lawrence very much explored the differences between the two - man and woman - and felt it was a complex/mysterious thing and that they would always be different and think differently. I imagine one could call it 'the war of the sexes', but men will react differently to situations than women will. It is a proven fact that we do think differently and there is polarity. At this point in Lawrence's early writing, he is still quite young - in his mid to late 20's and he is still forming his ideas on men and women and relationships and just how they opperate, and how they can work, in order to endure.




I am glad you agree here! So am I!;) This way I won't have to write one of my lengthy posts.:lol:




Ummm Janine, you meant Mr. Sam Adams here, right? Not Teddy Whiston?

Oops, my mistake.....I meant to say Mrs. Whiston. Sorry, I will go back and fix that in my text. I have not gotten to Mr. Sam Adams yet, and I don't think I would call a man flamboyant, although I suppose he could be; rather I might call a man a sort of 'dandy' or 'flashy'. I forget just what Mr. Sam Adams was like so I won't assign adjectives to him at this time.

[Pensive]

Yes, I do think, Pensy, you have much rattling around in your brain now about Lawrence. Your first book, "Sons and Lovers", reveals much about the young Lawrence. It infiltrates one slowly and takes over because it is so real and the writing so vivid. For me all his writing is like this and by now, I am totally obsessed. Manolia asked me just how many books I owned on Lawrence and I made a rough count - guess how many??? 20 and there may be more I missed! One huge book even contains about 5 of his novels and other shorter works. I have 3 biographies, one on the way from Amazon, and all this is not to even mention all the resource material I have copied to my hard-drive. Duh, well I suppose I know more than I thought. So if I don't know the answer anyone asks me on here, at least I might be able to check all my source material and come up with it. Oh forgot to mention 4 films based on L's books and one about part of his life and poetry. It is a good collection by now.

Oh my goodness! You are totally a Lawrence-fan! :p



Thanks, Pensive. Many things seemed easily to come into my mind last night.
Using the word 'gloomy' could be a device to introduce the darker elements into the story. Lawrence was an artist and a craftsman with his writing. I can see that this part of the story suddenly turns the gaiety of the beginning to a darker view and may speak to us, saying 'all is not as it seems', not total marital bliss at this point. As they say 'the scene begins to pale or darken'.

This was how I felt. It was relating to the darkness in the story. Perhaps the character's feelings or the prediction of what was about to come.


Yes, perhaps and complimentary; each person making up for what the other lacks. Often quiet and vivicious people get along well, since they don't compete for attention, even in friendships, and they provide what the other needs to make themselves feel whole. Also, I know from some reading I did last in a commentary by a critic that Lawrence very much explored the differences between the two - man and woman - and felt it was a complex/mysterious thing and that they would always be different and think differently. I imagine one could call it 'the war of the sexes', but men will react differently to situations than women will. It is a proven fact that we do think differently and there is polarity. At this point in Lawrence's early writing, he is still quite young - in his mid to late 20's and he is still forming his ideas on men and women and relationships and just how they opperate, and how they can work, in order to endure.

I think it all depends from person to person. Some people can't even live happily with people different from them. :)


So am I!;) This way I won't have to write one of my lengthy posts.:lol:

Hehe. But sometimes disagreements make a discussion interesting and more exciting! Again, depends. :p


Oops, my mistake.....I meant to say Mrs. Whiston. Sorry, I will go back and fix that in my text. I have not gotten to Mr. Sam Adams yet, and I don't think I would call a man flamboyant, although I suppose he could be; rather I might call a man a sort of 'dandy' or 'flashy'. I forget just what Mr. Sam Adams was like so I won't assign adjectives to him at this time.

That's a tiny mistake everyone can make, don't feel sorry! :) My mind suddenly jumped to Mr. Sam Adams because somewhere in the story I read about him being called florid which has nearly the same meaning as flamboyant.

Okay, I have found now where I read it.


From The White Stocking:
He was a bachelor of forty, growing stout, a man well-dressed and florid

Oops, sorry for jumping out of the context we were discussing. You know old habits die hard! :p

[Janine]

Pensive, I just saw your post as I went to get more of the story. Yes, a huge Lawrence fan now. Over the past few years I have become increasingly obsessed. There is so much more new material out there about him which you could not get a few years back. I just bought 2 more L books last night, like I don't have enough already!

Everything else in your post seems to be in agreement with me. Yes, you are right 'florid' is something like 'flamboyant'. Thanks for pointing that out.

So here is the next part of the story:



Suddenly a thud was heard at the door down the passage.
"I'll go," cried Mrs Whiston, and she was gone down the hall.

The postman was a ruddy-faced man who had been a soldier. He smiled broadly, handing her some packages.
"They've not forgot you," he said impudently.

"No--lucky for them," she said, with a toss of the head. But she was interested only in her envelopes this morning. The postman waited inquisitively, smiling in an ingratiating fashion. She slowly, abstractedly, as if she did not know anyone was there, closed the door in his face, continuing to look at the addresses on her letters.

She tore open the thin envelope. There was a long, hideous, cartoon valentine. She smiled briefly and dropped it on the floor. Struggling with the string of a packet, she opened a white cardboard box, and there lay a white silk handkerchief packed neatly under the paper lace of the box, and her initial, worked in heliotrope, fully displayed. She smiled pleasantly, and gently put the box aside. The third envelope contained another white packet--apparently a cotton handkerchief neatly folded. She shook it out. It was a long white stocking, but there was a little weight in the toe. Quickly, she thrust down her arm, wriggling her fingers into the toe of the stocking, and brought out a small box. She peeped inside the box, then hastily opened a door on her left hand, and went into the little, cold sitting-room. She had her lower lip caught earnestly between her teeth.

With a little flash of triumph, she lifted a pair of pearl ear-rings from the small box, and she went to the mirror. There, earnestly, she began to hook them through her ears, looking at herself sideways in the glass. Curiously concentrated and intent she seemed as she fingered the lobes of her ears, her head bent on one side.

Then the pearl ear-rings dangled under her rosy, small ears. She shook her head sharply, to see the swing of the drops. They went chill against her neck, in little, sharp touches. Then she stood still to look at herself, bridling her head in the dignified fashion. Then she simpered at herself. Catching her own eye, she could not help winking at herself and laughing.
She turned to look at the box. There was a scrap of paper with this posy:

"Pearls may be fair, but thou art fairer. Wear these for me, and I'll love the wearer."
She made a grimace and a grin. But she was drawn to the mirror again, to look at her ear-rings.

Whiston had made the fire burn, so he came to look for her. When she heard him, she started round quickly, guiltily. She was watching him with intent blue eyes when he appeared.

He did not see much, in his morning-drowsy warmth. He gave her, as ever, a feeling of warmth and slowness. His eyes were very blue, very kind, his manner simple.

"What ha' you got?" he asked.

"Valentines," she said briskly, ostentatiously turning to show him the silk handkerchief. She thrust it under his nose. "Smell how good," she said.

"Who's that from?" he replied, without smelling.

"It's a valentine," she cried. "How da I know who it's from?"

"I'll bet you know," he said.

"Ted!--I don't!" she cried, beginning to shake her head, then stopping because of the ear-rings.

He stood still a moment, displeased.

"They've no right to send you valentines, now," he said.

"Ted!--Why not? You're not jealous, are you? I haven't the least idea who it's from. Look--there's my initial"--she pointed with an emphatic finger at the heliotrope embroidery--

"E for Elsie, Nice little gelsie,"
she sang.

"Get out," he said. "You know who it's from."

"Truth, I don't," she cried.

He looked round, and saw the white stocking lying on a chair.

"Is this another?" he said.

"No, that's a sample," she said. "There's only a comic." And she fetched in the long cartoon.

He stretched it out and looked at it solemnly.
"Fools!" he said, and went out of the room.

She flew upstairs and took off the ear-rings. When she returned, he was crouched before the fire blowing the coals. The skin of his face was flushed, and slightly pitted, as if he had had small-pox. But his neck was white and smooth and goodly. She hung her arms round his neck as he crouched there, and clung to him. He balanced on his toes.

"This fire's a slow-coach," he said.

"And who else is a slow-coach?" she said.

"One of us two, I know," he said, and he rose carefully. She remained clinging round his neck, so that she was lifted off her feet.

"Ha!--swing me," she cried.
He lowered his head, and she hung in the air, swinging from his neck, laughing. Then she slipped off.

"The kettle is singing," she sang, flying for the teapot. He bent down again to blow the fire. The veins in his neck stood out, his shirt collar seemed too tight.

"Doctor Wyer,

Blow the fire,

Puff! puff! puff!"

she sang, laughing.

He smiled at her.
She was so glad because of her pearl ear-rings.

[downing]

Suddenly a thud was heard at the door down the passage.
"I'll go," cried Mrs Whiston, and she was gone down the hall.

The postman was a ruddy-faced man who had been a soldier. He smiled broadly, handing her some packages.
"They've not forgot you," he said impudently.

"No--lucky for them," she said, with a toss of the head. But she was interested only in her envelopes this morning. The postman waited inquisitively, smiling in an ingratiating fashion. She slowly, abstractedly, as if she did not know anyone was there, closed the door in his face, continuing to look at the addresses on her letters.

This passage shows that Elsie is a very attractive woman: the postman is attracted by her, this fact being showed by his behaviour. In her presence, the postman becomes rude: he is ''impudently''. ''Smiling in an ingratiating fashion''- I don't understand what does this ingratiating smile mean; the explanation of the word is:
ingratiating
adjective DISAPPROVING
describes behaviour that is intended to make people like you:
an ingratiating smile/manner

Does this mean that the postman wants to make Elsie feel what he feels, that he wants to make her flirt with him?


She slowly, abstractedly, as if she did not know anyone was there, closed the door in his face, continuing to look at the addresses on her letters.
Elsie's rude acting strenghthens my antipathy for Elsie.


She peeped inside the box, then hastily opened a door on her left hand, and went into the little, cold sitting-room. She had her lower lip caught earnestly between her teeth.
These consecutive actions show that Elsie is thrilled when she sees the box which contained the pearl ear rings.

The next scenes remind me of Scarlett O'Hara's way of posing in front of the looking glass and reveal Elisie's playful character.



"What ha' you got?" he asked.

"Valentines," she said briskly, ostentatiously turning to show him the silk handkerchief. She thrust it under his nose. "Smell how good," she said.

"Who's that from?" he replied, without smelling.

"It's a valentine," she cried. "How da I know who it's from?"

"I'll bet you know," he said.

"Ted!--I don't!" she cried, beginning to shake her head, then stopping because of the ear-rings.

He stood still a moment, displeased.

"They've no right to send you valentines, now," he said.

"Ted!--Why not? You're not jealous, are you? I haven't the least idea who it's from. Look--there's my initial"--she pointed with an emphatic finger at the heliotrope embroidery--

"E for Elsie, Nice little gelsie,"
she sang.

"Get out," he said. "You know who it's from."

"Truth, I don't," she cried.

He looked round, and saw the white stocking lying on a chair.

"Is this another?" he said.

"No, that's a sample," she said. "There's only a comic." And she fetched in the long cartoon.

He stretched it out and looked at it solemnly.
"Fools!" he said, and went out of the room.

The dialogue between Elsie and Teddy show his jealousy and the fact that she hides from him the identity of the sender. Elsie's got another flaw- she lies to her husband.


"They've no right to send you valentines, now," he said.

I agree with Teddy in this case. I found a similarity between Mr. Whiston and the keeper from ''Shades of Spring''- both men think logically, unlike Mr. Sam Adams and Elsie from this story and Syson and Hilda from ''Shades of Spring''. You see? Both actual parteners of the feminine character think logically. Perhaps because they represent the present and reality, whereas the others represent the past and in the same time, other thinking.


She flew upstairs and took off the ear-rings. When she returned, he was crouched before the fire blowing the coals. The skin of his face was flushed, and slightly pitted, as if he had had small-pox. But his neck was white and smooth and goodly. She hung her arms round his neck as he crouched there, and clung to him. He balanced on his toes.

"This fire's a slow-coach," he said.

"And who else is a slow-coach?" she said.

"One of us two, I know," he said, and he rose carefully. She remained clinging round his neck, so that she was lifted off her feet.

"Ha!--swing me," she cried.
He lowered his head, and she hung in the air, swinging from his neck, laughing. Then she slipped off.

"The kettle is singing," she sang, flying for the teapot. He bent down again to blow the fire. The veins in his neck stood out, his shirt collar seemed too tight.

"Doctor Wyer,

Blow the fire,

Puff! puff! puff!"

she sang, laughing.

He smiled at her.
She was so glad because of her pearl ear-rings.

I think Elsie is an hypocrite. She tries to reconciliate her husband and she has succes, but in the same time she is happy ''because of her pearl ear-rings''.

[Janine]

This passage shows that Elsie is a very attractive woman: the postman is attracted by her, this fact being showed by his behaviour. In her presence, the postman becomes rude: he is ''impudently''. ''Smiling in an ingratiating fashion''- I don't understand what does this ingratiating smile mean; the explanation of the word is:
ingratiating
adjective DISAPPROVING
describes behaviour that is intended to make people like you:
an ingratiating smile/manner

Does this mean that the postman wants to make Elsie feel what he feels, that he wants to make her flirt with him?


Elsie's rude acting strenghthens my antipathy for Elsie.

Downing, good ideas. I had not picked up on the postman's attitude. Perhaps he wants to flirt with her, or just be a friendly postman. She certainly does act rude to him, shutting the door in his face and also paying little attention to him. She is flip and flirty, but not to him directly, more flaunting of herself as she looks at her mail. I am sure she is aware of the effect it has on him viewing her. I think her answer to his statement
"They've not forgot you," he said impudently.
"No--lucky for them," she said, with a toss of the head."

is quite revealing of how she perceives herself, she is making whoever sent the parcels 'lucky' by accepting them; thus continuing to associate with her.


These consecutive actions show that Elsie is thrilled when she sees the box which contained the pearl ear rings.

The next scenes remind me of Scarlett O'Hara's way of posing in front of the looking glass and reveal Elisie's playful character.

Yes, she is very into presents and shows a bit of shallow thinking and vanity. She does not think of much except, being flattered by the presents and therefore is quite vain and likes herself very much; she is quite conceited and shallow.



The dialogue between Elsie and Teddy show his jealousy and the fact that she hides from him the identity of the sender. Elsie's got another flaw- she lies to her husband.

Yes, she does lie to her husband or she is evasive with him for certain. It seems to be a game with her to lord over him the little love treasures she has received, but from another man....obviously he suspects as much. She is playing a dangerous game with him - one of 'power' in a marriage.


I agree with Teddy in this case. I found a similarity between Mr. Whiston and the keeper from ''Shades of Spring''- both men think logically, unlike Mr. Sam Adams and Elsie from this story and Syson and Hilda from ''Shades of Spring''. You see? Both actual parteners of the feminine character think logically. Perhaps because they represent the present and reality, whereas the others represent the past and in the same time, other thinking.

Definitely, if you read my posted commentary at the end of "Shades of Spring", you will notice that the critic speaks of the relationship between several of the short stories and the main characters, and also some of Lawrence's early novels. It is true that the men characters think similarly, but think of these stories as a sort of 'progression' in the author's mind and 'exploration' of the relationships between women and men. This story is advancing from "Shades of Spring" and in some ways the man is representative of Lawrence and his own marriage. I am not saying Whiston represents Lawrence, but he does represent men in general, or Lawrence's concept of men by his standards, and just how they think - which may be more logical and women more emotional. Lawrence knew very well they thought differently, but now in this story he is showing an aspect of that difference. Some woman like to be flirty and showy more than most men. Teddy is more grounded than his wife, who is perhaps not as 'mature' as he is. They have not quite worked out the kinks in their marriage. When Lawrence wrote this story, he very well would have been at the same stage with his wife, trying to adjust to each other and work out the 'kinks' in their marriage. I will check the date he wrote this with my biographies. And his wife, Frieda, had had many suitors, and was more flamboyant than Lawrence. There are some minimal parellels, but Frieda was not as 'girlish' as Elsie is in this story. This story is a fiction - let me stress that fact - but ones own life has to influence the thought process in any story for the author.


I think Elsie is an hypocrite. She tries to reconciliate her husband and she has succes, but in the same time she is happy ''because of her pearl ear-rings''.
I think the word 'hypocrite' might be too strong a word here to describe her. Here is the definition of hypocrite:

One who pretends to be pious, virtuous, etc. without being so.

She is not demonstrating this type behavior. She is being quite obviously gay with her flirtations. She may be playing a secretive/evasive game with her husband, but she has not been 'unfaithful' to him by accepting these gifts and being playful. I think she is flaunting her femininity and power over her husband, who she feels will take it 'sitting down', as they say. Of course we know now she is in for a surprise. Later she plays this same type game at the dance, but it is all out in the open, and in some ways she plays this power game with the other man. She likes to keep them both 'on a string', but she forgets she is committed to her husband and is required to show faithfulness to him. She is being quite frivolous and childish and silly at this point in the story, but underneath it all, she is lording her power over him.

Hope all this makes sense.

[grace86]

Sorry everyone, I'm packing for the move. Hopefully I will be around soon enough to comment.

[Janine]

Sorry everyone, I'm packing for the move. Hopefully I will be around soon enough to comment.

Hi Grace, no problem at all. Wow, moving, to your college I would imagine. In fact, Downing and I were discussing this just today - maybe we should take a break next month from the short story thread, what do you think? Then we can start up again in Sept. I told her - "you girls are wearing me out!" :lol:

[Janine]

She tore open the thin envelope. There was a long, hideous, cartoon valentine. She smiled briefly and dropped it on the floor. Struggling with the string of a packet, she opened a white cardboard box, and there lay a white silk handkerchief packed neatly under the paper lace of the box, and her initial, worked in heliotrope, fully displayed. She smiled pleasantly, and gently put the box aside. The third envelope contained another white packet--apparently a cotton handkerchief neatly folded. She shook it out. It was a long white stocking, but there was a little weight in the toe. Quickly, she thrust down her arm, wriggling her fingers into the toe of the stocking, and brought out a small box. She peeped inside the box, then hastily opened a door on her left hand, and went into the little, cold sitting-room. She had her lower lip caught earnestly between her teeth.

I really like the way in which this paragraph is written. I think it portrays the excitement of opening a package and especially one from an admirer. Of course Ellie is flattered by all this attention. She is very much a woman who craves a great deal of attention, don't you think? Interesting that she threw the 'cartoon valentine' on the floor. The second gift is nice, but does not seem to thrill her either. The pearls are expensive and obviously impress her the most. I think this paragraph also gives us a little clue as to the sender in the fact that he cleverly packed the earring box in the toe of the white stocking. The sender must be brazen to send these to a married woman and also manipulative in order to get the attention and affection of a young woman. Giving her the stocking is rather suggestive, as well, considering the time period the story was written.


Then the pearl ear-rings dangled under her rosy, small ears. She shook her head sharply, to see the swing of the drops. They went chill against her neck, in little, sharp touches. Then she stood still to look at herself, bridling her head in the dignified fashion. Then she simpered at herself. Catching her own eye, she could not help winking at herself and laughing.
She turned to look at the box. There was a scrap of paper with this posy:

"Pearls may be fair, but thou art fairer. Wear these for me, and I'll love the wearer."
She made a grimace and a grin. But she was drawn to the mirror again, to look at her ear-rings.

I also like the manor in which Lawrence speaks of her looking in the glass at herself. One can picture this scene so vividly. I wonder why he said "She made a grimace and a grin"? Is she having some slight feeling of remorse for making her husband jealous by that grimace. What exactly is going through her mind as she gazes at the gifts and tries the earrings on? Also, in the statement:

"They went chill against her neck, in little, sharp touches."

It seems this ambiguity is expressed in this statement. Again what do you think?

"With a little flash of triumph, she lifted a pair of pearl ear-rings from the small box, and she went to the mirror." I find the word triumph significant in this statement. She obviously feels triumphant lording these gifts over her husband in their following encounter.


"The kettle is singing," she sang, flying for the teapot. He bent down again to blow the fire. The veins in his neck stood out, his shirt collar seemed too tight.

"Doctor Wyer,

Blow the fire,

Puff! puff! puff!"

The first statement seems to suggest Teddy's slight irritation in a subtle way:
"He bent down again to blow the fire. The veins in his neck stood out, his shirt collar seemed too tight. Who is Dr. Wyer or what is meant by it? Oh, I guess that is just part of the rhyme, am I right?

[Janine]

Hi everyone! Here is the next part of the story:


Over the breakfast she grew serious. He did not notice. She became portentous in her gravity. Almost it penetrated through his steady good-humour to irritate him.

"Teddy!" she said at last.

"What?" he asked.

"I told you a lie," she said, humbly tragic.

His soul stirred uneasily.
"Oh aye?" he said casually.

She was not satisfied. He ought to be more moved.
"Yes," she said.

He cut a piece of bread.
"Was it a good one?" he asked.

She was piqued. Then she considered--was it a good one? Then she laughed.
"No," she said, "it wasn't up to much."

"Ah!" he said easily, but with a steady strength of fondness for her in his tone. "Get it out then."

It became a little more difficult.
"You know that white stocking," she said earnestly. "I told you a lie. It wasn't a sample. It was a valentine."

A little frown came on his brow.
"Then what did you invent it as a sample for?" he said. But he knew this weakness of hers. The touch of anger in his voice frightened her.

"I was afraid you'd be cross," she said pathetically.

"I'll bet you were vastly afraid," he said.

"I was, Teddy."

There was a pause. He was resolving one or two things in his mind.
"And who sent it?" he asked.

"I can guess," she said, "though there wasn't a word with it-- except--"
She ran to the sitting-room and returned with a slip of paper.
"Pearls may be fair, but thou art fairer. Wear these for me, and I'll love the wearer."

He read it twice, then a dull red flush came on his face.
"And who do you guess it is?" he asked, with a ringing of anger in his voice.

"I suspect it's Sam Adams," she said, with a little virtuous indignation.
Whiston was silent for a moment.

"Fool!" he said. "An' what's it got to do with pearls?--and how can he say 'wear these for me' when there's only one? He hasn't got the brain to invent a proper verse."
He screwed the sup of paper into a ball and flung it into the fire.

"I suppose he thinks it'll make a pair with the one last year," she said.

"Why, did he send one then?"

"Yes. I thought you'd be wild if you knew."

His jaw set rather sullenly.

Presently he rose, and went to wash himself, rolling back his sleeves and pulling open his shirt at the breast. It was as if his fine, clear-cut temples and steady eyes were degraded by the lower, rather brutal part of his face. But she loved it. As she whisked about, clearing the table, she loved the way in which he stood washing himself. He was such a man. She liked to see his neck glistening with water as he swilled it. It amused her and pleased her and thrilled her. He was so sure, so permanent, he had her so utterly in his power. It gave her a delightful, mischievous sense of liberty. Within his grasp, she could dart about excitingly.

He turned round to her, his face red from the cold water, his eyes fresh and very blue.
"You haven't been seeing anything of him, have you?" he asked roughly.

"Yes," she answered, after a moment, as if caught guilty. "He got into the tram with me, and he asked me to drink a coffee and a Benedictine in the Royal."

"You've got it off fine and glib," he said sullenly. "And did you?"

"Yes," she replied, with the air of a traitor before the rack.

The blood came up into his neck and face, he stood motionless, dangerous.

"It was cold, and it was such fun to go into the Royal," she said.

"You'd go off with a nigger for a packet of chocolate," he said, in anger and contempt, and some bitterness. Queer how he drew away from her, cut her off from him.

"Ted--how beastly!" she cried. "You know quite well--" She caught her lip, flushed, and the tears came to her eyes.

He turned away, to put on his necktie. She went about her work, making a queer pathetic little mouth, down which occasionally dripped a tear.
He was ready to go. With his hat jammed down on his head, and his overcoat buttoned up to his chin, he came to kiss her. He would be miserable all the day if he went without. She allowed herself to be kissed. Her cheek was wet under his lips, and his heart burned. She hurt him so deeply. And she felt aggrieved, and did not quite forgive him.

In a moment she went upstairs to her ear-rings. Sweet they looked nestling in the little drawer--sweet! She examined them with voluptuous pleasure, she threaded them in her ears, she looked at herself, she posed and postured and smiled, and looked sad and tragic and winning and appealing, all in turn before the mirror. And she was happy, and very pretty.

She wore her ear-rings all morning, in the house. She was self-conscious, and quite brilliantly winsome, when the baker came, wondering if he would notice. All the tradesmen left her door with a glow in them, feeling elated, and unconsciously favouring the delightful little creature, though there had been nothing to notice in her behaviour.

She was stimulated all the day. She did not think about her husband. He was the permanent basis from which she took these giddy little flights into nowhere. At night, like chickens and curses, she would come home to him, to roost.

Meanwhile Whiston, a traveller and confidential support of a small firm, hastened about his work, his heart all the while anxious for her, yearning for surety, and kept tense by not getting it.

[grace86]

Hi Grace, no problem at all. Wow, moving, to your college I would imagine. In fact, Downing and I were discussing this just today - maybe we should take a break next month from the short story thread, what do you think? Then we can start up again in Sept. I told her - "you girls are wearing me out!" :lol:

That would be a good idea. Don Quixote, Harry Potter and White Stocking have kind of been sitting around on my dresser. Yes...moving to my apartment next weekend, so I have tons to do now...haven't done much boxing up.

[Janine]

That would be a good idea. Don Quixote, Harry Potter and White Stocking have kind of been sitting around on my dresser. Yes...moving to my apartment next weekend, so I have tons to do now...haven't done much boxing up.

Grace, glad you agree. I know you are probably so busy starting university this fall; moving is a big job and then getting settled in more work. Whenever you can resume short stories will be fine. If you still have any bit of time leftover and want to comment on this story, feel free to jump in at anytime, but if you don't we certainly all understand why.

Not sure this is clear to everyone though. We will still be doing "The White Stocking" for now, till the end of the story; hopefully that will be the end of the month. Then - next month - we will take a break and pick a new story, sometime in September. What do you think of this idea?

[downing]

I agree with Janine. It would be fine to take a break from DHL short stories thread, but more for Janine's sake, who needs one. I would have liked to stay in august in the thread, but if the Leader goes, there will hardly be anyone else here.:lol: What I am afraid of is the fact that in September I will start school and I hope that schoolwork won't be an obstacle for me to continue writing in this thread. Anyway, till we take a break, let me comment this part of the story, which Janine selected.


Over the breakfast she grew serious. He did not notice. She became portentous in her gravity. Almost it penetrated through his steady good-humour to irritate him.

Here we can notice that the atmosphere becomes strained, mostly because of Elsie, but Whisto perceives it, too; he is ''irritated'' by him because it ''penetrates'' his good-humour. Nice depiction of atmosphere.



"Teddy!" she said at last.

"What?" he asked.

"I told you a lie," she said, humbly tragic.

His soul stirred uneasily.
"Oh aye?" he said casually.

She was not satisfied. He ought to be more moved.
"Yes," she said.

He cut a piece of bread.
"Was it a good one?" he asked.

She was piqued. Then she considered--was it a good one? Then she laughed.
"No," she said, "it wasn't up to much."

"Ah!" he said easily, but with a steady strength of fondness for her in his tone. "Get it out then."

It became a little more difficult.
"You know that white stocking," she said earnestly. "I told you a lie. It wasn't a sample. It was a valentine."

A little frown came on his brow.
"Then what did you invent it as a sample for?" he said. But he knew this weakness of hers. The touch of anger in his voice frightened her.

"I was afraid you'd be cross," she said pathetically.

"I'll bet you were vastly afraid," he said.

"I was, Teddy."

There was a pause. He was resolving one or two things in his mind.
"And who sent it?" he asked.

"I can guess," she said, "though there wasn't a word with it-- except--"
She ran to the sitting-room and returned with a slip of paper.
"Pearls may be fair, but thou art fairer. Wear these for me, and I'll love the wearer."

He read it twice, then a dull red flush came on his face.
"And who do you guess it is?" he asked, with a ringing of anger in his voice.

"I suspect it's Sam Adams," she said, with a little virtuous indignation.
Whiston was silent for a moment.

"Fool!" he said. "An' what's it got to do with pearls?--and how can he say 'wear these for me' when there's only one? He hasn't got the brain to invent a proper verse."
He screwed the sup of paper into a ball and flung it into the fire.

"I suppose he thinks it'll make a pair with the one last year," she said.

"Why, did he send one then?"

"Yes. I thought you'd be wild if you knew."


I underlined the statements which suggest the character's mood. We see that Whiston passes through a series of moods: he is in a good humour, then he is ''stirred'' and then he becomes angry:''a dull red flush came on his face'', ''the touch of anger in his voice''.
At first, Elsie's wish to confide lookes Christian to me and I began to pity her and consider her a poor playful thing, so I started to like her a bit. But when I saw that she didn't tell anything about the ear-rings, but invented a new lie, I got really mad; she is a person who lies, than confides and, while she says which the lie was, she tells a new one. What do you think of this behaviour? I think it is grotesque.


She was not satisfied. He ought to be more moved.
This shows that she likes to ''stirr'' her husband. She probably likes to see his jelousy, knowing that jelousy is a proof of love.


I suspect it's Sam Adams," she said, with a little virtuous indignation.
Whiston was silent for a moment.

The underlined statement makes me laugh but they make me admire Lawrence. What a great way of describing a ''flying woman'':lol: . I am sure she didn't feel any indignation and certainly, not a virtuous one.


Presently he rose, and went to wash himself, rolling back his sleeves and pulling open his shirt at the breast. It was as if his fine, clear-cut temples and steady eyes were degraded by the lower, rather brutal part of his face. But she loved it. As she whisked about, clearing the table, she loved the way in which he stood washing himself. He was such a man. She liked to see his neck glistening with water as he swilled it. It amused her and pleased her and thrilled her. He was so sure, so permanent, he had her so utterly in his power. It gave her a delightful, mischievous sense of liberty. Within his grasp, she could dart about excitingly.

This passage reminds me of Rhett Butler and Scarlett's feeling of security in his arms.



He turned round to her, his face red from the cold water, his eyes fresh and very blue.
"You haven't been seeing anything of him, have you?" he asked roughly.

"Yes," she answered, after a moment, as if caught guilty. "He got into the tram with me, and he asked me to drink a coffee and a Benedictine in the Royal."

"You've got it off fine and glib," he said sullenly. "And did you?"

"Yes," she replied, with the air of a traitor before the rack.

The blood came up into his neck and face, he stood motionless, dangerous.

"It was cold, and it was such fun to go into the Royal," she said.

"You'd go off with a nigger for a packet of chocolate," he said, in anger and contempt, and some bitterness. Queer how he drew away from her, cut her off from him.
"Ted--how beastly!" she cried. "You know quite well--" She caught her lip, flushed, and the tears came to her eyes.

He turned away, to put on his necktie. She went about her work, making a queer pathetic little mouth, down which occasionally dripped a tear.
He was ready to go. With his hat jammed down on his head, and his overcoat buttoned up to his chin, he came to kiss her. He would be miserable all the day if he went without. She allowed herself to be kissed. Her cheek was wet under his lips, and his heart burned. She hurt him so deeply. And she felt aggrieved, and did not quite forgive him.


Queer how he drew away from her, cut her off from him.

I see Lawrence describes sometimes the situation from Elsie's point of view. Margaret Mitchell has got the same way, sometimes, of describing in GWTW-from Scarlett's point of view.
We see that Whiston loves her, in spite of her ''infidelity'': ''he came to kiss her. He would be miserable all the day if he went without.''

I am not sure what

You've got it off fine and glib means over here. Could you please help?



In a moment she went upstairs to her ear-rings. Sweet they looked nestling in the little drawer--sweet! She examined them with voluptuous pleasure, she threaded them in her ears, she looked at herself, she posed and postured and smiled, and looked sad and tragic and winning and appealing, all in turn before the mirror. And she was happy, and very pretty.

She wore her ear-rings all morning, in the house. She was self-conscious, and quite brilliantly winsome, when the baker came, wondering if he would notice. All the tradesmen left her door with a glow in them, feeling elated, and unconsciously favouring the delightful little creature, though there had been nothing to notice in her behaviour.

She was stimulated all the day. She did not think about her husband. He was the permanent basis from which she took these giddy little flights into nowhere. At night, like chickens and curses, she would come home to him, to roost.
Meanwhile Whiston, a traveller and confidential support of a small firm, hastened about his work, his heart all the while anxious for her, yearning for surety, and kept tense by not getting it.

The next three passages show that she didn't change at all. I let Janine or someone else to comment the other important things from this part.

[Janine]

I agree with Janine. It would be fine to take a break from DHL short stories thread, but more for Janine's sake, who needs one. I would have liked to stay in august in the thread, but if the Leader goes, there will hardly be anyone else here.:lol: What I am afraid of is the fact that in September I will start school and I hope that schoolwork won't be an obstacle for me to continue writing in this thread. Anyway, till we take a break, let me comment this part of the story, which Janine selected.

Downing and everyone else, I do need a break, but I was thinking maybe I could choose the next story, which I have in mind and is a short one; also it is not that complex (in my opinion), and then if everyone has any bit of time, they can read it at their leisure. This would make things a little easier for all of us, especially those starting school. It is always hard to read the story and discuss it same month, don't you think? Or we could do this story in August, and break in September instead. Maybe that would be the better solution.


Here we can notice that the atmosphere becomes strained, mostly because of Elsie, but Whisto perceives it, too; he is ''irritated'' by him because it ''penetrates'' his good-humour. Nice depiction of atmosphere.

See Downing's quotes from the story, above in her post.

Yes, it does become strained and tense and his good humor is being undermined by her silliness and her suspected deception.


I underlined the statements which suggest the character's mood. We see that Whiston passes through a series of moods: he is in a good humour, then he is ''stirred'' and then he becomes angry:''a dull red flush came on his face'', ''the touch of anger in his voice''.
At first, Elsie's wish to confide lookes Christian to me and I began to pity her and consider her a poor playful thing, so I started to like her a bit. But when I saw that she didn't tell anything about the ear-rings, but invented a new lie, I got really mad; she is a person who lies, than confides and, while she says which the lie was, she tells a new one. What do you think of this behaviour? I think it is grotesque.

Yes, his mood does fluctuate greatly and she knows this. Again she likes manipulating his mood to suit herself. She is very selfish and does not think of hurting her husband; she gets away with much and she knows it. At least her wish to confide to Teddy her wrong-doings may be an attempt to be 'moralistic', but I don't think she is truly sincere about it, nor do I think it her ulimate goal. She, more or less, wants to tell him, in order to get some reaction, even if it is a negative one; actually she is hoping to rile him up and get any reaction from him....jealousy will only make her feel more satisfied and feed her ego. She craves attention, even when the various men come to her door to deliver things throughout the day, she is trying all the time for their attention. She may act like she is unaware or carefree, but always she is very aware of their eyes on her. No doubt at the dance, she also is aware of being observed by everyone at the dance, not just Sam Adams. She is all for the 'affect' she has on others.



This shows that she likes to ''stirr'' her husband. She probably likes to see his jelousy, knowing that jelousy is a proof of love.

Definitely she does like to see it and feel elated by it. She loves to feel she has this much control over his affections and his well-being. This elevates her self, but it is a false elevation, being one of vanity.


The underlined statement makes me laugh but they make me admire Lawrence. What a great way of describing a ''flying woman''. I am sure she didn't feel any indignation and certainly, not a virtuous one.

:lol:Downing, sorry to laugh -- but I think you mean 'flighty' woman, not 'flying' woman. That would be the expression. Yes, Elsie is very 'flighty' indeed.


This passage reminds me of Rhett Butler and Scarlett's feeling of security in his arms.

Well, didn't Scarlett try to maniuplate men's feelings and actions towards her? However, unlike this story Rhett did not put up with that sort of behavior from the beginning as Teddy does for a time. Rhett saw through Scarlett's antics right away. But you are right, Scarlett did feel the security with Rhett and so does Elsie with Teddy --- good parellel.




I see Lawrence describes sometimes the situation from Elsie's point of view. Margaret Mitchell has got the same way, sometimes, of describing in GWTW-from Scarlett's point of view.
We see that Whiston loves her, in spite of her ''infidelity'': ''he came to kiss her. He would be miserable all the day if he went without.''

Downing, Who's point of view do you think that last statement is from about him being miserable - his or hers? or the author observing them? Just curious.


I am not sure what
means over here. Could you please help?

Quote:
"You've got it off fine and glib" -- referring to pulling off or accomplishing the lie and doing it in a sneaky way whereas she is glib, or "spoken smoothly, sometimes too smoothly to be confincing". She seems nonchalant, when she professes these lies and also remorseful but apparently Teddy knows her well and knows she is being quite false.





The next three passages show that she didn't change at all. I let Janine or someone else to comment the other important things from this part.

I agree, I think.....:lol:

In the following passage see how many times she manipulates her husband with her tears and pathos. Elsie really is quite the dramatist and she can get him to do as she wants by withholding her affection - "He would be miseable all the day if he went without." This referring to the kiss from her/her affection. Lawrence was a great observer of women and this portrait of this particular woman is very detailed and accurate. She reminds me greatly of a main character in Lawrence's first novel "The White Peacock" named Lettie, which was after his sister nicknamed the same, her name was Lettuce, after an aunt of Lawrence's. Lettie also is very flighty and dramatic and manipulates the men in her life. She completely breaks one man's heart and he settles for someone else in the end.


He turned away, to put on his necktie. She went about her work, making a queer pathetic little mouth, down which occasionally dripped a tear.
He was ready to go. With his hat jammed down on his head, and his overcoat buttoned up to his chin, he came to kiss her. He would be miserable all the day if he went without. She allowed herself to be kissed. Her cheek was wet under his lips, and his heart burned. She hurt him so deeply. And she felt aggrieved, and did not quite forgive him.

There is a real pushing and pulling in this section - giving affection/withholding affection, hurting him/then soothing him, hurting him/not forgiving him. Elsie really knows how to play this immature game of marriage and possession. She uses the tears to really get her own way and for the affect it will have on her husband; they are 'crocodile tears'. This paragraph shows a literal 'tug of war' game between them and their emotions.

[downing]

Here comes the flying woman!!!:lol: :lol: :lol:
Sorry for the mistake...that was fun! :)
Janine, I like a lot what you said about this part of the story and it really helped to see your oppinion, because I understood other things, too.
As about the passage with Whiston is feeling miserable, I guess L describes that from Whiston's point of view.
Will you post the next part of the story?
I think it is a great idea to do another story in August and to take a break in September. Tell me what do you think.

[Janine]

Downing, Yes, hello 'flying woman!' haha! Glad you enjoyed your laugh.:lol: I did, too....sorry... at your expense. ;) It is rather funny how American or English sayings can get twisted up in translation. You were close anyway. At first I did not get your idea at all and then it dawned on me and I did have a good laugh.

I agree with the idea of having one last story for August and then breaking in September. Afterall, everyone will be going back to school which is stressful enough. I can handle doing one last story and it will fall into the category of these other early stories about relationship.

I wanted to comment on just this last part of Part II of the story.


She wore her ear-rings all morning, in the house. She was self-conscious, and quite brilliantly winsome, when the baker came, wondering if he would notice. All the tradesmen left her door with a glow in them, feeling elated, and unconsciously favouring the delightful little creature, though there had been nothing to notice in her behaviour.

As I said before all day long Elsie seemed to have an unconscious effect on the tradesmen such as the baker, as they left her door to go on their way. But in that paragraph I found this part of the statement curious "though there had been nothing to notice in her behaviour." Was this just from her point of view that she had this effect on them or were they really elated after seeing her?


She was stimulated all the day. She did not think about her husband. He was the permanent basis from which she took these giddy little flights into nowhere. At night, like chickens and curses, she would come home to him, to roost.

Again she is quite self-absorbed, isn't she. She does not think at all about her husband she is so into her own awareness of herself and how she looks in the pearl earrings. But the second and last line indicates something true and significant. He alows her to be this way and he is there for her to return after her "giddy little flights nowhere." Teddy is pretty well aiding her to behave this way in not objecting to her self-centered ways. I like particularly the last line and think it so well put by Lawrence; it makes me laugh, too...."like chickens and curses" - that is great!


Meanwhile Whiston, a traveller and confidential support of a small firm, hastened about his work, his heart all the while anxious for her, yearning for surety, and kept tense by not getting it.

This let us know what Whiston did for a living. Now he is thinking of her all day long apparently - "his heart all the while anxious for her, yearning for surety, and kept tense by not getting it." She really has gotten him into a difficult state of mind and kept him on a kind of emotional roller coaster ride and he can't seem to do anything about it, but go along with her. He longs for her, but he is also tense all the time. Poor Whiston can't win either way.

****************************

I will now post next part of the story:



II

She had been a warehouse girl in Adams's lace factory before she was married. Sam Adams was her employer. He was a bachelor of forty, growing stout, a man well dressed and florid, with a large brown moustache and thin hair. From the rest of his well-groomed, showy appearance, it was evident his baldness was a chagrin to him. He had a good presence, and some Irish blood in his veins.

His fondness for the girls, or the fondness of the girls for him, was notorious. And Elsie, quick, pretty, almost witty little thing--she seemed witty, although, when her sayings were repeated, they were entirely trivial--she had a great attraction for him. He would come into the warehouse dressed in a rather sporting reefer coat, of fawn colour, and trousers of fine black-and-white check, a cap with a big peak and a scarlet carnation in his button-hole, to impress her. She was only half impressed. He was too loud for her good taste. Instinctively perceiving this, he sobered down to navy blue. Then a well-built man, florid, with large brown whiskers, smart navy blue suit, fashionable boots, and manly hat, he was the irreproachable. Elsie was impressed. But meanwhile Whiston was courting her, and she made splendid little gestures, before her bedroom mirror, of the constant-and-true sort.

"True, true till death--"

That was her song. Whiston was made that way, so there was no need to take thought for him.

Every Christmas Sam Adams gave a party at his house, to which he invited his superior work-people--not factory hands and labourers, but those above.

He was a generous man in his way, with a real warm feeling for giving pleasure.

Two years ago Elsie had attended this Christmas-party for the last time. Whiston had accompanied her. At that time he worked for Sam Adams.
She had been very proud of herself, in her close-fitting, full-skirted dress of blue silk. Whiston called for her. Then she tripped beside him, holding her large cashmere shawl across her breast. He strode with long strides, his trousers handsomely strapped under his boots, and her silk shoes bulging the pockets of his full-skirted overcoat.

They passed through the park gates, and her spirits rose. Above them the Castle Rock looked grandly in the night, the naked trees stood still and dark in the frost, along the boulevard.

They were rather late. Agitated with anticipation, in the cloak-room she gave up her shawl, donned her silk shoes, and looked at herself in the mirror. The loose bunches of curls on either side her face danced prettily, her mouth smiled.

She hung a moment in the door of the brilliantly lighted room. Many people were moving within the blaze of lamps, under the crystal chandeliers, the full skirts of the women balancing and floating, the side-whiskers and white cravats of the men bowing above. Then she entered the light.

In an instant Sam Adams was coming forward, lifting both his arms in boisterous welcome. There was a constant red laugh on his face.

"Come late, would you," he shouted, "like royalty."

He seized her hands and led her forward. He opened his mouth wide when he spoke, and the effect of the warm, dark opening behind the brown whiskers was disturbing. But she was floating into the throng on his arm. He was very gallant.

"Now then," he said, taking her card to write down the dances, "I've got carte blanche, haven't I?"

"Mr Whiston doesn't dance," she said.

"I am a lucky man!" he said, scribbling his initials. "I was born with an amourette in my mouth."

He wrote on, quietly. She blushed and laughed, not knowing what it meant.
"Why, what is that?" she said.

"It's you, even littler than you are, dressed in little wings," he said.

"I should have to be pretty small to get in your mouth," she said.

"You think you're too big, do you!" he said easily.

He handed her her card, with a bow.
"Now I'm set up, my darling, for this evening," he said.

[downing]

Sam Adams was her employer. He was a bachelor of forty, growing stout, a man well dressed and florid, with a large brown moustache and thin hair. From the rest of his well-groomed, showy appearance, it was evident his baldness was a chagrin to him. He had a good presence, and some Irish blood in his veins.

I underlined the statement which form Sam Adam's direct characterization. You can observe that this character appears for the first time in the short story, because till now he was just recalled by the other characters in their discussion. I see that L. uses the flashback technique in this chapter; this flashback contains the Christmas party organized by Sam Adams.


His fondness for the girls, or the fondness of the girls for him, was notorious. And Elsie, quick, pretty, almost witty little thing--she seemed witty, although, when her sayings were repeated, they were entirely trivial--she had a great attraction for him. He would come into the warehouse dressed in a rather sporting reefer coat, of fawn colour, and trousers of fine black-and-white check, a cap with a big peak and a scarlet carnation in his button-hole, to impress her. She was only half impressed. He was too loud for her good taste. Instinctively perceiving this, he sobered down to navy blue. Then a well-built man, florid, with large brown whiskers, smart navy blue suit, fashionable boots, and manly hat, he was the irreproachable. Elsie was impressed. But meanwhile Whiston was courting her, and she made splendid little gestures, before her bedroom mirror, of the constant-and-true sort.

We understand from the first phrase that he was something like a playboy...a notorious one. Elsie is shallow because she becomes more attracted to him and more impressed when he dresses the way she likes best.




Every Christmas Sam Adams gave a party at his house, to which he invited his superior work-people--not factory hands and labourers, but those above.

He was a generous man in his way, with a real warm feeling for giving pleasure.
Two years ago Elsie had attended this Christmas-party for the last time. Whiston had accompanied her. At that time he worked for Sam Adams.
She had been very proud of herself, in her close-fitting, full-skirted dress of blue silk. Whiston called for her. Then she tripped beside him, holding her large cashmere shawl across her breast. He strode with long strides, his trousers handsomely strapped under his boots, and her silk shoes bulging the pockets of his full-skirted overcoat.

They passed through the park gates, and her spirits rose. Above them the Castle Rock looked grandly in the night, the naked trees stood still and dark in the frost, along the boulevard.

They were rather late. Agitated with anticipation, in the cloak-room she gave up her shawl, donned her silk shoes, and looked at herself in the mirror. The loose bunches of curls on either side her face danced prettily, her mouth smiled.
She hung a moment in the door of the brilliantly lighted room. Many people were moving within the blaze of lamps, under the crystal chandeliers, the full skirts of the women balancing and floating, the side-whiskers and white cravats of the men bowing above. Then she entered the light.

In an instant Sam Adams was coming forward, lifting both his arms in boisterous welcome. There was a constant red laugh on his face.
"Come late, would you," he shouted, "like royalty."

He seized her hands and led her forward. He opened his mouth wide when he spoke, and the effect of the warm, dark opening behind the brown whiskers was disturbing. But she was floating into the throng on his arm. He was very gallant.
"Now then," he said, taking her card to write down the dances, "I've got carte blanche, haven't I?"

"Mr Whiston doesn't dance," she said.

"I am a lucky man!" he said, scribbling his initials. "I was born with an amourette in my mouth."
He wrote on, quietly. She blushed and laughed, not knowing what it meant.
"Why, what is that?" she said.

"It's you, even littler than you are, dressed in little wings," he said.

"I should have to be pretty small to get in your mouth," she said.

"You think you're too big, do you!" he said easily.

He handed her her card, with a bow.
"Now I'm set up, my darling, for this evening," he said.


The fact that Sam Adams gave parties for the pleasure of others is a good note for him.


"I was born with an amourette in my mouth."
Is this something like the well known proverb ''to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth''?

From this part of the text we understand that Elsie was very happy because she was in the centre of the attention, by advancing with Sam Adams and having the pleasure to dance with him. The passage where she is looking in the mirror shows her narcisist character and makes me think again of Scarlett O'Hara. I have the impression that she left Whiston alone- she advanced in the crowd with Adams...wasn't that a bit rude? I imagine what poor Whiston thinks.

Janine, I let you comment now. Sincerely, I am also very tired...maybe we'd better take a break in August what do you think?:lol: I am also changing but I feel tired out...I imagine how you must feel...

[Janine]

Downing, yes, I think it is still quite questionable about August and possible to take a break then. Thing is I split up the story last night, in my offline text, and seems it will take at least 5 days to complete, with just the two of us working on it. I realise now that Virgil has been gone awhile and we really do need him in this thread. That is why we are so exhausted. I know in Tortoise, ktd said she was taking a break, too and even though I did post the next Tortoise poem it waits there for everyone's return. Actually this thread was Virgil's idea and his starting so I am hoping when he gets back he will resume it. Let us just wait and see, ok?

Ok, let me get to the story and what you posted. *See Downing's posts for the quotes.


I underlined the statement which form Sam Adam's direct characterization. You can observe that this character appears for the first time in the short story, because till now he was just recalled by the other characters in their discussion. I see that L. uses the flashback technique in this chapter; this flashback contains the Christmas party organized by Sam Adams.

You know the first time I read this story, I did not realise that second part was set in the past (flashback). So the story has three parts: present, past, back to present. Lawrence used this same technique in 'The Prussian Officer'. It is an interesting way to present a story, don't you think?
In this first section that you have quoted, it is also important to note the fact that Sam Adams is 'forty' and a 'bachelor'. That says much about him right there, add the other ingredients (which you underlined) and you have a image of an average aging man (physically) who makes himself look 'flashy' for the ladies and is quite vibrant and lively.



We understand from the first phrase that he was something like a playboy...a notorious one. Elsie is shallow because she becomes more attracted to him and more impressed when he dresses the way she likes best. I don't know if he is an actual playboy but he sure does like the ladies. After reading this story I am reminded of a part of Sons and Lovers and of Lawrence's actual life when he worked in a garment manufacturing company, a sort of hoisery company and medical supplies. I recall that there was a boss there or owner who fits the description of Sam Adams, that is if I recall this correctly. I also recall many young woman working there, some quite flirtious and agressive. Lawrence really got an education at that company on woman and how they acted. He worked as a clerk but he very much enjoyed their attention, I believe. This was L's first job away from home. When he speaks of" His fondness for the girls, or the fondness of the girls for him, was notorious." I thought of this place immediately. Also, to note is the fact that at one time Lawrence's own mother sold handmade, pulled lace in their house. I have a photo of the house with a shop-type window and I will post it. In Lawrence's book "The Lost Girl" his main character is a young woman who sells lace, probably fashioned after his mother, especially since the father once had money and later went broke, this was true of his mother's family. Well, sorry I am getting of the path now, but that is a bit of Lawrence trivia for you.

Below is a photo of one of Lawrence's early homes; third house from the left. His parents moved here so that his mother could utilize the shop window to sell her laces.

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/dhlwshse3rdfromleft.jpg


The fact that Sam Adams gave parties for the pleasure of others is a good note for him.

True, but I don't think he gave this party out of total generosity of heart. He liked to dance and party and loved to be surrounded by woman and indulge them, so this is his stage. He liked very much to flaunt himself and play the perfect host.


Is this something like the well known proverb ''to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth''?

:lol: I don't think so. :lol: Here we go again! 'Lost in translation', but now the translation is French, isn't it? I thought you were our official translator? I think 'amourette' would refer to 'amour' - which is love, correct, in French? I think we need to look it up.


From this part of the text we understand that Elsie was very happy because she was in the centre of the attention, by advancing with Sam Adams and having the pleasure to dance with him. The passage where she is looking in the mirror shows her narcisist character and makes me think again of Scarlett O'Hara. I have the impression that she left Whiston alone - she advanced in the crowd with Adams...wasn't that a bit rude? I imagine what poor Whiston thinks.

I think she is rude and unfeeling/inconsiderate towards her husband. I think she sort of whiskes him asside in order to get on with the dancing and showing herself off to everyone, not just Sam Adams.


Janine, I let you comment now. Sincerely, I am also very tired...maybe we'd better take a break in August what do you think?:lol: I am also changing but I feel tired out...I imagine how you must feel...

I will go back over the text since a few additional things did stand out to me on first reading it. For instance, I found this to be an interesting statement:


Every Christmas Sam Adams gave a party at his house, to which he invited his superior work-people--not factory hands and labourers, but those above.
This tells us, to some degree, that Sam Adams thinks he is 'generous' but only on his own terms and is a bit of a snob about inviting just anyone to his parties. He draws a distinct line 'not inviting factory hands and labourers'.

Here too, is a short description of her husband and his attire:


He strode with long strides, his trousers handsomely strapped under his boots, and her silk shoes bulging the pockets of his full-skirted overcoat.
This short statement strikes me that Teddy is dressed handsomely, neatly, but not flashy; however, appropriately. So he is not a shabby dresser by far.


This following statement depicts well the first impression of the scene in party room where the women and men are dancing, or about to dance. Note that the room is filled with light and aglow with ladies in full shirts. Light is a big feature in any of Lawrence's works; usually contrasting later with darkness or shadows. Remember it was so in "Shades of Spring"?


She hung a moment in the door of the brilliantly lighted room. Many people were moving within the blaze of lamps, under the crystal chandeliers, the full skirts of the women balancing and floating, the side-whiskers and white cravats of the men bowing above. Then she entered the light.

So much light in that one paragraph!

This statement also struck me, Sam Adams announces:

"Come late, would you," he shouted, "like royalty."

It is as though she planned it that way for effect, don't you think? Also he can flatter her by calling her 'royalty.' As they say for 'a grand entrance'. One is noticed more this way and makes the person waiting more anxious to see you.

If you noticed earlier, it was stated that Mr. Whiston also worked for Sam Adams in this statement

"At that time he worked for Sam Adams"

As I said, Lawrence had worked at a similar company as a clerk. So again he is probably writing about things he knew and characters or types that he was familiar with.

In this following statement I found it curious and noteworthy - the part about his mouth and how she reacts to it.


He seized her hands and led her forward. He opened his mouth wide when he spoke, and the effect of the warm, dark opening behind the brown whiskers was disturbing. But she was floating into the throng on his arm. He was very gallant.

To her his mouth is 'disturbing'. This seems to hint at the fact that she likes the 'idea' of the man, maybe more than he himself, as a person or physically. She really seems repelled (not attracted by him) at that instant. But then the dance seems to take over and sweep her away to another world. The last line says he is very 'gallant'; from her perspective, I am sure. I don't feel she is truly attracted to Sam Adams, but more for effect, she knows she is going to make an impression on everyone, plus it is a sort of fantasy game she is playing, to feed her own ego, don't you think?

This photo is what the view would have looked like across from lawrence's house at the top of this page. It would be a view of the Hagg's farm and the wheat fields.

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/haggsview.jpg

This last photo is of Lawrence country - I believe Nottingham, the countryside.

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/lawrence_view_web.jpg

Hey,Downing, nice to have illustrations, isn't it?

[Virgil]

Hi I'm back. "The White Stocking" is the new story, I see. I don't know if I've ever read that one. OK, I'll see if I can read it this weekend.

[Pensive]

Thanks for the photos, Janine! The country-side looks beautiful. :) Lawrence was lucky to be living in such a place. :D

I am afraid I am a bit busy these days, might not get enough to comment on all story parts, but I am trying to read all the comments posted here.

[downing]

Firstly, let us try to clarify the amourette problem :lol: I looked up and found this:

amourette=passing infatuation
And which would be the point? I was born with a passing infatuation in my mouth? That's hilarious :lol: :lol: :lol:
I'll do further research, maybe I find out something.



You know the first time I read this story, I did not realise that second part was set in the past (flashback). So the story has three parts: present, past, back to present. Lawrence used this same technique in 'The Prussian Officer'. It is an interesting way to present a story, don't you think?
I agree with you, flashback is an interesting technique. I don't think you recall, Janine, but I also used it in one of my short story. Actually, I used it in more of my short stories. I used the exact times: present,past,back in present :).



don't know if he is an actual playboy but he sure does like the ladies. After reading this story I am reminded of a part of Sons and Lovers and of Lawrence's actual life when he worked in a garment manufacturing company, a sort of hoisery company and medical supplies. I recall that there was a boss there or owner who fits the description of Sam Adams, that is if I recall this correctly. I also recall many young woman working there, some quite flirtious and agressive. Lawrence really got an education at that company on woman and how they acted. He worked as a clerk but he very much enjoyed their attention, I believe. This was L's first job away from home. When he speaks of" His fondness for the girls, or the fondness of the girls for him, was notorious." I thought of this place immediately. Also, to note is the fact that at one time Lawrence's own mother sold handmade, pulled lace in their house. I have a photo of the house with a shop-type window and I will post it. In Lawrence's book "The Lost Girl" his main character is a young woman who sells lace, probably fashioned after his mother, especially since the father once had money and later went broke, this was true of his mother's family. Well, sorry I am getting of the path now, but that is a bit of Lawrence trivia for you.

Thank you Janine for sharing with us your vast Lawrence knowledges. This is an interesting thing.:thumbs_up


True, but I don't think he gave this party out of total generosity of heart. He liked to dance and party and loved to be surrounded by woman and indulge them, so this is his stage. He liked very much to flaunt himself and play the perfect host.[/Quote[
Certainly, I agree with you that Sam Adams wasn't doing all these for the people from upper class(remember the quote- by the way, great interpretation of Adam's snobist behaviour!), but for his own pleasure, too. Actually, I think he was a really selfish person- the fact that he sends Elsie that stocking(a bit indecent in those times as you pointed out once, I believe) for receiving some attention back from her shows this.

Janine,was Elsie married to Whiston at this part of the story?


She had been a warehouse girl in Adams's lace factory before she was married.
I think that Whiston was just her love interest at that time.

I have to go now. My cousins and my uncle from Bucharest have come at our place for three days and we are having a great time. Today we went in a trip in the surroundings of the town, in a wild place, unaltered by people, in a valley, between two high mountains. It was marvellous! So I am busy with my ''host'' job, but I try not to neglect my ''commenter'' job :lol:

Virgil, glad to see you back. With you, I hope we won't be so exhausted as we feel now.

Pensive, take your time. We know that all of us also have a real life which counts a lot!

[Pensive]

Janine,was Elsie married to Whiston at this part of the story?

Again, I am not Janine :p but I think that she was not married to Whiston then. It is mentioned later in the story that she refused working at Adams' factory and 'in a few weeks after that' she and Whiston got married.



I think that Whiston was just her love interest at that time.

Yes, precisely.


I have to go now. My cousins and my uncle from Bucharest have come at our place for three days and we are having a great time. Today we went in a trip in the surroundings of the town, in a wild place, unaltered by people, in a valley, between two high mountains. It was marvellous! So I am busy with my ''host'' job, but I try not to neglect my ''commenter'' job :lol:

Hey, this seems like fun! Enjoy yourself! :)


Virgil, glad to see you back. With you, I hope we won't be so exhausted as we feel now.

Yup, good to see Virgil! The more the merrier. :)

[Janine]

Hi this is your leader speaking - Haha! Be back soon. Having a connection problem. Carry on without me until then. I will try and check in at the library computer (on it now) on Wednesday night. Until then feel free to post next part of story. Hi Virgil, glad to see you back! Janine

[Janine]

Hi gang! It is me again. I tried to put the story on my flash device this afternoon so I could post more here at my library but it won't work like it did before. I have to figure it out still. A weird window keeps coming up.
Good news is that I got through today (finally) to my internet provider and they will mail me out a new modem - ofcourse at the cost of $39.95. Oh well, my problem in the storm could have been way worse. It will take 3 to 5 days to get it so I will try to stop back tomorrow night here in the library. I feel like I am missing everything but really I did need a computer rest. haha! Downing, enjoy your days off too and Virgil, take your time reading the story. If I can I will post the next part of the story tomorrow night - be patient - I have it all divided up and in my file ready to post. I hope to put it on the flash device tomorrow so I can bring it here.
Glad to see you back, Virgil! Hi Pensive, I enjoyed your post and Downings. I read all the recent posts last night and again tonight. Time is running out here, so I can't email anyone and besides my PM box says it is 96% full -- oh yikes - time to clear out again, before I can even write back.
See you all tomorrow night! Janine

[Janine]

Back at the library -- good news! I got the modem in the mail today - wow, that sure was quick....overnight express! I will post the next part of the story tonight after I get the modem installed on my machine. Then I will be swingin' on here again. See you all them...I have missed you....J

[Janine]

Hi, me again...I am finally online again at my house. Yeah!

Here is the next part of the story.


Then, quick, always at his ease, he looked over the room. She waited in front of him. He was ready. Catching the eye of the band, he nodded. In a moment, the music began. He seemed to relax, giving himself up.

"Now then, Elsie," he said, with a curious caress in his voice that seemed to lap the outside of her body in a warm glow, delicious. She gave herself to it. She liked it.

He was an excellent dancer. He seemed to draw her close in to him by some male warmth of attraction, so that she became all soft and pliant to him, flowing to his form, whilst he united her with him and they lapsed along in one movement. She was just carried in a kind of strong, warm flood, her feet moved of themselves, and only the music threw her away from him, threw her back to him, to his clasp, in his strong form moving against her, rhythmically, deliriously.

When it was over, he was pleased and his eyes had a curious gleam which thrilled her and yet had nothing to do with her. Yet it held her. He did not speak to her. He only looked straight into her eyes with a curious, gleaming look that disturbed her fearfully and deliriously. But also there was in his look some of the automatic irony of the roue. It left her partly cold. She was not carried away.

She went, driven by an opposite, heavier impulse, to Whiston. He stood looking gloomy, trying to admit that she had a perfect right to enjoy herself apart from him. He received her with rather grudging kindliness.

"Aren't you going to play whist?" she asked.

"Aye," he said. "Directly."

"I do wish you could dance."

"Well, I can't," he said. "So you enjoy yourself."

"But I should enjoy it better if I could dance with you."

"Nay, you're all right," he said. "I'm not made that way."

"Then you ought to be!" she cried.

"Well, it's my fault, not yours. You enjoy yourself," he bade her. Which she proceeded to do, a little bit irked.

She went with anticipation to the arms of Sam Adams, when the time came to dance with him. It WAS so gratifying, irrespective of the man. And she felt a little grudge against Whiston, soon forgotten when her host was holding her near to him, in a delicious embrace. And she watched his eyes, to meet the gleam in them, which gratified her.

She was getting warmed right through, the glow was penetrating into her, driving away everything else. Only in her heart was a little tightness, like conscience.

When she got a chance, she escaped from the dancing-room to the card-room. There, in a cloud of smoke, she found Whiston playing cribbage. Radiant, roused, animated, she came up to him and greeted him. She was too strong, too vibrant a note in the quiet room. He lifted his head, and a frown knitted his gloomy forehead.

"Are you playing cribbage? Is it exciting? How are you getting on?" she chattered.

He looked at her. None of these questions needed answering, and he did not feel in touch with her. She turned to the cribbage-board.

"Are you white or red?" she asked.

"He's red," replied the partner.

"Then you're losing," she said, still to Whiston. And she lifted the red peg from the board. "One--two--three--four--five--six--seven--eight--right up there you ought to jump--"

"Now put it back in its right place," said Whiston.

"Where was it?" she asked gaily, knowing her transgression. He took the little red peg away from her and stuck it in its hole.
The cards were shuffled.

"What a shame you're losing!" said Elsie.

"You'd better cut for him," said the partner.

She did so, hastily. The cards were dealt. She put her hand on his shoulder, looking at his cards.

"It's good," she cried, "isn't it?"

He did not answer, but threw down two cards. It moved him more strongly than was comfortable, to have her hand on his shoulder, her curls dangling and touching his ears, whilst she was roused to another man. It made the blood flame over him.

At that moment Sam Adams appeared, florid and boisterous, intoxicated more with himself, with the dancing, than with wine. In his eyes the curious, impersonal light gleamed.

"I thought I should find you here, Elsie," he cried boisterously, a disturbing, high note in his voice.

"What made you think so?" she replied, the mischief rousing in her.
The florid, well-built man narrowed his eyes to a smile.

"I should never look for you among the ladies," he said, with a kind of intimate, animal call to her. He laughed, bowed, and offered her his arm.

"Madam, the music waits."
She went almost helplessly, carried along with him, unwilling, yet delighted

[Pensive]

Then, quick, always at his ease, he looked over the room. She waited in front of him. He was ready. Catching the eye of the band, he nodded. In a moment, the music began. He seemed to relax, giving himself up.

"Now then, Elsie," he said, with a curious caress in his voice that seemed to lap the outside of her body in a warm glow, delicious. She gave herself to it. She liked it.

He was an excellent dancer. He seemed to draw her close in to him by some male warmth of attraction, so that she became all soft and pliant to him, flowing to his form, whilst he united her with him and they lapsed along in one movement. She was just carried in a kind of strong, warm flood, her feet moved of themselves, and only the music threw her away from him, threw her back to him, to his clasp, in his strong form moving against her, rhythmically, deliriously.

When it was over, he was pleased and his eyes had a curious gleam which thrilled her and yet had nothing to do with her. Yet it held her. He did not speak to her. He only looked straight into her eyes with a curious, gleaming look that disturbed her fearfully and deliriously. But also there was in his look some of the automatic irony of the roue. It left her partly cold. She was not carried away.

It seems that Elsie was aware of her limitations, and deep inside her, she felt bad for what she had done. This sentence 'it left her party cold' is enough to indicate this I think.


She went, driven by an opposite, heavier impulse, to Whiston. He stood looking gloomy, trying to admit that she had a perfect right to enjoy herself apart from him. He received her with rather grudging kindliness.

"Aren't you going to play whist?" she asked.

"Aye," he said. "Directly."

"I do wish you could dance."

"Well, I can't," he said. "So you enjoy yourself."

"But I should enjoy it better if I could dance with you."

"Nay, you're all right," he said. "I'm not made that way."

"Then you ought to be!" she cried.

"Well, it's my fault, not yours. You enjoy yourself," he bade her. Which she proceeded to do, a little bit irked.

Now the both characters here have annoyed me a bit. I wonder if dancing was not Whiston's thing or did he refuse because he was mad at Elsie deep inside?

But Elsie's response to his refusal is quite childish as well.


She went with anticipation to the arms of Sam Adams, when the time came to dance with him. It WAS so gratifying, irrespective of the man. And she felt a little grudge against Whiston, soon forgotten when her host was holding her near to him, in a delicious embrace. And she watched his eyes, to meet the gleam in them, which gratified her.

She was getting warmed right through, the glow was penetrating into her, driving away everything else. Only in her heart was a little tightness, like conscience.

The charm of Sam Adams and Whiston's refusal seems to have taken that feeling of coldness (and what seems like guilt in the first paragraph) away from her.


When she got a chance, she escaped from the dancing-room to the card-room. There, in a cloud of smoke, she found Whiston playing cribbage. Radiant, roused, animated, she came up to him and greeted him. She was too strong, too vibrant a note in the quiet room. He lifted his head, and a frown knitted his gloomy forehead.

"Are you playing cribbage? Is it exciting? How are you getting on?" she chattered.

He looked at her. None of these questions needed answering, and he did not feel in touch with her. She turned to the cribbage-board.

"Are you white or red?" she asked.

"He's red," replied the partner.

"Then you're losing," she said, still to Whiston. And she lifted the red peg from the board. "One--two--three--four--five--six--seven--eight--right up there you ought to jump--"

"Now put it back in its right place," said Whiston.

"Where was it?" she asked gaily, knowing her transgression. He took the little red peg away from her and stuck it in its hole.
The cards were shuffled.

"What a shame you're losing!" said Elsie.

"You'd better cut for him," said the partner.

She did so, hastily. The cards were dealt. She put her hand on his shoulder, looking at his cards.

"It's good," she cried, "isn't it?"

That was quite nasty! I found it annoying. It seems like Elsie wanted to get Whiston's attention and she was getting annoyed for not having gotten it. But again, her response to her was childish.


He did not answer, but threw down two cards. It moved him more strongly than was comfortable, to have her hand on his shoulder, her curls dangling and touching his ears, whilst she was roused to another man. It made the blood flame over him.

I can sumpathise with Whiston here at this moment.


At that moment Sam Adams appeared, florid and boisterous, intoxicated more with himself, with the dancing, than with wine. In his eyes the curious, impersonal light gleamed.

"I thought I should find you here, Elsie," he cried boisterously, a disturbing, high note in his voice.

"What made you think so?" she replied, the mischief rousing in her.
The florid, well-built man narrowed his eyes to a smile.

"I should never look for you among the ladies," he said, with a kind of intimate, animal call to her. He laughed, bowed, and offered her his arm.

"Madam, the music waits."
She went almost helplessly, carried along with him, unwilling, yet delighted

Ah this flattery, weakness of the most!

[Janine]

Pensive, happy to see you here and responding to the story. I have slowed up some; I suppose I have needed a rest, to some degree. I have to go out today to do more errands, so I was only checking the threads briefly, but later on tonight I would like to respond to your post.
You sure are mad at both characters! I laughed, thinking "poor, Pensive, is riled up about them so".;)
I agree with your observations and interpretations and to some I disagree, or at least have some separate thoughts on these passages to add. Some is from previous reading of Lawrence's work and making use of 'dance scenes' to convey certain things. Dance scenes appear often in Lawrence novels and short stories. I will go into that later on.

[Janine]

Hi Pensive, I requoted the text, since it is easier for me to follow the comments you have made. It seems there are four distinctive scenes here and so I divided them by a row of stars. I also underlined some lines I feel are significant or give hints to what interaction is going on between the characters. There is much interaction in these four short scenes. First the dance:



Then, quick, always at his ease, he looked over the room. She waited in front of him. He was ready. Catching the eye of the band, he nodded. In a moment, the music began. He seemed to relax, giving himself up.

"Now then, Elsie," he said, with a curious caress in his voice that seemed to lap the outside of her body in a warm glow, delicious. She gave herself to it. She liked it.

He was an excellent dancer. He seemed to draw her close in to him by some male warmth of attraction, so that she became all soft and pliant to him, flowing to his form, whilst he united her with him and they lapsed along in one movement. She was just carried in a kind of strong, warm flood, her feet moved of themselves, and only the music threw her away from him, threw her back to him, to his clasp, in his strong form moving against her, rhythmically, deliriously.

When it was over, he was pleased and his eyes had a curious gleam which thrilled her and yet had nothing to do with her. Yet it held her. He did not speak to her. He only looked straight into her eyes with a curious, gleaming look that disturbed her fearfully and deliriously. But also there was in his look some of the automatic irony of the roue. It left her partly cold. She was not carried away.


It seems that Elsie was aware of her limitations, and deep inside her, she felt bad for what she had done. This sentence 'it left her party cold' is enough to indicate this I think.

I am not sure what you mean by 'limitations' or is it that you are referring to the fact that she loves Whiston and she is keeping her true self for him, striving to be faithful to him. Perhaps you meant to say 'his' limitations. I felt she sensed that Sam Adams might be a great dancer, sweeping her off her feet, but that he lacked the true qualities that her husband possessed. Something seems to be missing between them. The dance is purely physical attraction. It recalls me to many a scene Lawrence has written about dances, even those within a house - wasn't there one in "Sons and Lovers" in a parlor? I know there was one in his first novel "The White Peacock". It was quite lusty and a lot of attraction was going on, as in this passage above, a lot of pulling away and towards each other - man and woman, also. If you note the words I underlined you can clearly see how suggestively sexual Lawrence is expressing that dance. Later the dance becomes even more sexually oriented. Although Elsie does not cheat on her husband, it is like a representation of cheating, in a way. In "Women in Love" there is also a graphic, rythmic, lusty dance scene and another scene especially pronounced in one of L's Travel books - I think "Twilight in Italy". If you go to the main Lawrence page someone (back, awhile ago) posted comments on that dance scene; I believe Virgil commented, also. If you notice there is a rthymn in the dance that very much mimics sexual activity between the man and woman. Therefore, I would agree with you that after the dancing Elsie does feel quilty, as though she did cheat on her husband. I think during the dancing she feels flattered, but vulnerable towards Sam Adams advances, don't you?

First he is 'giving himself up' to the dance and to her, then she "gave herself to it" - to the dance and to him, in a sense, even though temporarily. Now by the end of that passage, she is "not carried away". It is curious that in just so many lines Lawrence has changed that strong attraction to being no longer an attraction - "not carried away"....so in a sense she comes back to reality and knows he is not the one for her, but rather her husband is and so she turns to seeking him out and the card game.


************************************************** *****
Second scene:



She went, driven by an opposite, heavier impulse, to Whiston. He stood looking gloomy, trying to admit that she had a perfect right to enjoy herself apart from him. He received her with rather grudging kindliness.

"Aren't you going to play whist?" she asked.

"Aye," he said. "Directly."

"I do wish you could dance."

"Well, I can't," he said. "So you enjoy yourself."

"But I should enjoy it better if I could dance with you."

"Nay, you're all right," he said. "I'm not made that way."

"Then you ought to be!" she cried.

"Well, it's my fault, not yours. You enjoy yourself," he bade her. Which she proceeded to do, a little bit irked.



Now the both characters here have annoyed me a bit. I wonder if dancing was not Whiston's thing or did he refuse because he was mad at Elsie deep inside?


But Elsie's response to his refusal is quite childish as well.

If you notice in the first paragraph and first few lines he is grudingly telling her to go have a good time and enjoy herself. He seems to be playing the sulking husband. He is obviously not very sincere about what he says to her. He is taking on a sort of 'martyr' role. Perhaps it is part of the game they seem to be playing or maybe it is subconsious, but you are right - they are both acting childishly. I don't think Whiston danced or maybe just not as good a dancer as Sam Adams, but maybe he did and is just being stubborn and lording power over his wife by refusing to dance. That would go along with the way Lawrence wrote. Often he does write of the power of one character over another, especially when it come to the opposite sexes. For instance when Teddy says: "it's my fault, not yours." is he trying to make her feel quilty in the long run about dancing with SA? I wonder, since I don't feel he is being very sincere or truthful at all. He is being sort of 'passive agressive', I think, in some ways.



************************************************** ******
Third scene:



She went with anticipation to the arms of Sam Adams, when the time came to dance with him. It WAS so gratifying, irrespective of the man. And she felt a little grudge against Whiston, soon forgotten when her host was holding her near to him, in a delicious embrace. And she watched his eyes, to meet the gleam in them, which gratified her.

She was getting warmed right through, the glow was penetrating into her, driving away everything else. Only in her heart was a little tightness, like conscience.

As you can see by the underlined phrases she is now feeling more free to enjoy herself but inwardly she does feel a "little grudge" and then "a little tightness, like conscience" in her heart. She does not seem too disturbed by it at this point, but she does seem to be swept away more effectively this time around and the passages continue to be suggestive of a sexual union, so that in her own mind she might feel she is cheating on Whiston, thus the guilt creeping in. It is a kind of symbolic cheating.



The charm of Sam Adams and Whiston's refusal seems to have taken that feeling of coldness (and what seems like guilt in the first paragraph) away from her.

As warm as the scene has been up to this point, it does seems now that the feeling is becoming one of coldness or remoteness to SA.

************************************************** ******

Fourth scene:



When she got a chance, she escaped from the dancing-room to the card-room. There, in a cloud of smoke, she found Whiston playing cribbage. Radiant, roused, animated, she came up to him and greeted him. She was too strong, too vibrant a note in the quiet room. He lifted his head, and a frown knitted his gloomy forehead.

"Are you playing cribbage? Is it exciting? How are you getting on?" she chattered.

He looked at her. None of these questions needed answering, and he did not feel in touch with her. She turned to the cribbage-board.

"Are you white or red?" she asked.

"He's red," replied the partner.

"Then you're losing," she said, still to Whiston. And she lifted the red peg from the board. "One--two--three--four--five--six--seven--eight--right up there you ought to jump--"

"Now put it back in its right place," said Whiston.

"Where was it?" she asked gaily, knowing her transgression. He took the little red peg away from her and stuck it in its hole.
The cards were shuffled.

"What a shame you're losing!" said Elsie.

"You'd better cut for him," said the partner.

She did so, hastily. The cards were dealt. She put her hand on his shoulder, looking at his cards.

"It's good," she cried, "isn't it?"



That was quite nasty! I found it annoying. It seems like Elsie wanted to get Whiston's attention and she was getting annoyed for not having gotten it. But again, her response to her was childish.

Yes, it was quite nasty of her and to rub in the fact that he was losing. That would be very deflating to a man's ego, don't you think? Obviously she is playing this control game by acting as she is. She is elated and vibrant from the dance and wishes to lord this over her husband or to let him see how lively and gay she has become inspite of his refusal to dance. This little scene shows again to us that Whiston was not sincere about her having a good time without him. He is totally annoyed and gloomy over it - "a frown knitted his gloomy forehead". So he is sulking and playing the martyr, I think. He sort of set her up for his own gloomy state, so he could blame her I think, another 'passive agressive' type move.





He did not answer, but threw down two cards. It moved him more strongly than was comfortable, to have her hand on his shoulder, her curls dangling and touching his ears, whilst she was roused to another man. It made the blood flame over him.

This is odd but he seemed to have set it up so he could feel this arousal which is brought on by her being arroused by the other man. "It made the blood flame over him"....curious statement. Also being in contact with her "moved him strongly than was comfortable".


I can sumpathise with Whiston here at this moment.

I don't know if I do totally sympathise with him. I don't know how I feel about that yet. I feel badly for him in one instance/ but he seemed to bring some of this on himself by not being sociable at this dance with his wife.





At that moment Sam Adams appeared, florid and boisterous, intoxicated more with himself, with the dancing, than with wine. In his eyes the curious, impersonal light gleamed.

"I thought I should find you here, Elsie," he cried boisterously, a disturbing, high note in his voice.

"What made you think so?" she replied, the mischief rousing in her.
The florid, well-built man narrowed his eyes to a smile.

"I should never look for you among the ladies," he said, with a kind of intimate, animal call to her. He laughed, bowed, and offered her his arm.

"Madam, the music waits."
She went almost helplessly, carried along with him, unwilling, yet delighted.

At the end of these 4 passages and scenes this scene encompasses all three parties - SA, Elsie, and Teddy. I see the scenes alternating in a rythmic pattern which mimics the dancing and the rythms present there. At this last scene in this set it comes full circle with all the people together in one room.



Ah this flattery, weakness of the most!

Yes, definitely - what do they say "flattery will get your everywhere". or is it "nowhere" ? ;) in this case it will be the later.

Hope all of this makes sense to you, Pensive, sorry it took me so long to respond. J

Pensive, when you read this if you want to - comment and then let me know and I will post next part of the story.

[Janine]

I decided to advance this story and post the next section:


That dance was an intoxication to her. After the first few steps, she felt herself slipping away from herself. She almost knew she was going, she did not even want to go. Yet she must have chosen to go. She lay in the arm of the steady, close man with whom she was dancing, and she seemed to swim away out of contact with the room, into him. She had passed into another, denser element of him, an essential privacy. The room was all vague around her, like an atmosphere, like under sea, with a flow of ghostly, dumb movements. But she herself was held real against her partner, and it seemed she was connected with him, as if the movements of his body and limbs were her own movements, yet not her own movements--and oh, delicious! He also was given up, oblivious, concentrated, into the dance. His eye was unseeing. Only his large, voluptuous body gave off a subtle activity. His fingers seemed to search into her flesh. Every moment, and every moment, she felt she would give way utterly, and sink molten: the fusion point was coming when she would fuse down into perfect unconsciousness at his feet and knees. But he bore her round the room in the dance, and he seemed to sustain all her body with his limbs, his body, and his warmth seemed to come closer into her, nearer, till it would fuse right through her, and she would be as liquid to him, as an intoxication only.

It was exquisite. When it was over, she was dazed, and was scarcely breathing. She stood with him in the middle of the room as if she were alone in a remote place. He bent over her. She expected his lips on her bare shoulder, and waited. Yet they were not alone, they were not alone. It was cruel.

"'Twas good, wasn't it, my darling?" he said to her, low and delighted. There was a strange impersonality about his low, exultant call that appealed to her irresistibly. Yet why was she aware of some part shut off in her? She pressed his arm, and he led her towards the door.
She was not aware of what she was doing, only a little grain of resistant trouble was in her. The man, possessed, yet with a superficial presence of mind, made way to the dining-room, as if to give her refreshment, cunningly working to his own escape with her. He was molten hot, filmed over with presence of mind, and bottomed with cold disbelief.


Wow, this dance scene, the way Lawrence has written it, is infused with sensuality and very suggestive.
I will add specific comments to this part of the story tomorrow.

[grace86]

I finished the story Janine!

From the part that was posted, I did notice how childish Elsie seemed to be.

Will post some more later, but what in the world is Sam Adams supposed to mean when he says "I should never look for you among the ladies" --that was kind of presumptuous. I would have thought Whiston would have taken her away or gotten angry at this point.

I didn't like Elsie, I don't know if she was testing her limits on freedom or testing Whiston's love for her based on his reactions.

I would think if she had loved him she wouldn't have gone off dancing with someone else.

Eh those are initial thoughts, be back later.

[Janine]

Hi Grace, so happy to see you here again. Take your time; I have lots of patience. Thank you for posting; I was feeling quite lonely. I did my laundry and yes, thought of you - haha....but now I am all tired out. Drank coffee earlier and the effects seem to have worn off too fast. I can't think now to post and my finger hurts, too - think it is infected by the nail (I am a wreck today). I will try to write tomorrow and expound on the new part I just posted. Feel free to do so also, if you are inclined to, before me. Good remarks you made so far. I don't think I like her that much either and she is so childish - I agree with that, but it seems that Teddy alows her to be this way without putting his foot down (well up till this point in the story).

Thanks again for posting and glad you finished the story.

[Janine]

Note: The following is a requoting of the text - 4 posts back.



That dance was an intoxication to her. After the first few steps, she felt herself slipping away from herself. She almost knew she was going, she did not even want to go. Yet she must have chosen to go. She lay in the arm of the steady, close man with whom she was dancing, and she seemed to swim away out of contact with the room, into him. She had passed into another, denser element of him, an essential privacy. The room was all vague around her, like an atmosphere, like under sea, with a flow of ghostly, dumb movements. But she herself was held real against her partner, and it seemed she was connected with him, as if the movements of his body and limbs were her own movements, yet not her own movements--and oh, delicious! He also was given up, oblivious, concentrated, into the dance. His eye was unseeing. Only his large, voluptuous body gave off a subtle activity. His fingers seemed to search into her flesh. Every moment, and every moment, she felt she would give way utterly, and sink molten: the fusion point was coming when she would fuse down into perfect unconsciousness at his feet and knees. But he bore her round the room in the dance, and he seemed to sustain all her body with his limbs, his body, and his warmth seemed to come closer into her, nearer, till it would fuse right through her, and she would be as liquid to him, as an intoxication only.

In this first paragraph I notice certain phrases that really stand out:"dance was an intoxication to her" , then "she felt herself slipping away from herself". The dance is almost like a drug to Elsie as it draws her into it and 'she is slipping away from herself' - interesting statement - as though she is acting in an unconscious manner. The next statement is quite curious I think:
"She almost knew she was going, she did not even want to go. Yet she must have chosen to go." This too, further indicates that her action/reaction to the dance is 'unconscious' or 'subconscious'.
"She lay in the arm of the steady, close man with whom she was dancing, and she seemed to swim away out of contact with the room, into him. She had passed into another, denser element of him, an essential privacy. The room was all vague around her, like an atmosphere, like under sea, with a flow of ghostly, dumb movements."
This dance is very intimate - not just a dance. In her subconscious state "she has passed into another denser element of him", then "essential privacy". The last line and the key words make it very organic and nearly primal in the aspect of being under the sea and in a ghostly realm of unconsciousness. The body has taken control of the mind and dominated as it often characteristic of Lawrence's ideas and work. The next line seems to indicate the physical aspects of this union as though the bodies of the two are now one and yet not - a dicotomy - "movements of his body and limbs were her own movements, yet not her own movements" then ends with "--and oh, delicious!" obviously reflexing the desirable effects of the dance. The next line shifts to SA and that he is "given up, oblivious, concentrated, into the dance. His eye was unseeing." Again mimicing the idea of (unseeing)subconscious or unconsiously dancing and being swept along by the partner - fully absorbed in the moment. These two lines are self suggestive of intimate physical contact - "his large, voluptuous body gave off a subtle activity" and then "His fingers seemed to search into her flesh".
"Every moment, and every moment," good use of repetition to set up a rhythm of the dancing and the delerium at this point. The next line is one of almost total submission and consumation of the flesh or of the 'fantasy' of the dance and the unconscious union of the man and the woman: "she felt she would give way utterly, and sink molten: the fusion point was coming when she would fuse down into perfect unconsciousness at his feet and knees." Then the last part further emphasises this idea: "his warmth seemed to come closer into her, nearer, till it would fuse right through her, and she would be as liquid to him, as an intoxication only."
Interesting how the first line of this paragraph ends with the same word - "intoxication" - first line: "That dance was an intoxication to her."


It was exquisite. When it was over, she was dazed, and was scarcely breathing. She stood with him in the middle of the room as if she were alone in a remote place. He bent over her. She expected his lips on her bare shoulder, and waited. Yet they were not alone, they were not alone. It was cruel.

Now Lawrence is calling the whole experience "exquisite". Is this in the eyes of Elsie or SA? or just a general observation of what has just transpired between them. Now she is 'dazed and scarely breathing'. The next line now says ' as if she were alone in a remote place'. The last 4 statements of this paragraph are odd to me - why did 'she expect his lips on her bare shoulder' and then it said she 'waited'? Then the last line seems again to indicate the separation and remoteness when we return to reality where they are 'not alone', another use of repetition to emphasis this fact. She feels the calling back to this reality - 'cruel' - I believe that is what is being indicated here.



"'Twas good, wasn't it, my darling?" he said to her, low and delighted. There was a strange impersonality about his low, exultant call that appealed to her irresistibly. Yet why was she aware of some part shut off in her? She pressed his arm, and he led her towards the door.
She was not aware of what she was doing, only a little grain of resistant trouble was in her. The man, possessed, yet with a superficial presence of mind, made way to the dining-room, as if to give her refreshment, cunningly working to his own escape with her. He was molten hot, filmed over with presence of mind, and bottomed with cold disbelief.

Now the third paragraph is a reminescence of the dance and the moment - again almost like recalling a sexual encounter, isn't it? Interesting that the second line states "a strange impersonality about his low, exultant call that appealed to her irresistibly." Does this mean that now he is more detached and distinct it only makes him more irresistable to her? Sort of like what one can't have one desires? The next line askes "why was she aware of some part shut off in her?" This part confuses me. Is it that she is definicent in some way towards true intimacy? But he is not her husband so I don't quite understand what L is getting at in this statement. Any ideas anyone?
Then this statement seems to further indicate the way she is feeling "a little grain of resistant trouble was in her", so although the dance was exhilerating it was not completely satisfying to her since she still had this 'grain of resistent trouble in her'. Could that be conscience?
The last line seems to sum up SA in the final analysis: "He was molten hot, filmed over with presence of mind, and bottomed with cold disbelief. But why was he 'bottomed in cold disbelief'? Was this in the eyes of Elsie or just a general observation on the part of Lawrence, as narrator? The word "disbelief' throws me off. Anyone have an idea on this last statement?

[Janine]

I seem to be doing this story all by myself...ho...hum....so it goes...

Posting next part of the story (I am determined to finish it up before the month is through):

I underlined the key words/phrases:

In the dining-room was Whiston, carrying coffee to the plain, neglected ladies. Elsie saw him, but felt as if he could not see her. She was beyond his reach and ken. A sort of fusion existed between her and the large man at her side. She ate her custard, but an incomplete fusion all the while sustained and contained her within the being of her employer.
So obviously poor Whiston is now subject to carrying coffee to the "plain and neglected ladies". He is a 'nice' guy and standing on the sidelines while his wife is flamboyantly dancing. She is "beyond his reach and ken" and then 'she sees Whiston', but 'he cannot seem to see her'. So instead she feels a "sort of fusion" with Sam Adams, yet is is an 'incomplete fusion' she knows, even though for now it is 'sustaining and containing' her within the confines of Sam Adam's being.


But she was growing cooler. Whiston came up. She looked at him, and saw him with different eyes. She saw his slim, young man's figure real and enduring before her. That was he. But she was in the spell with the other man, fused with him, and she could not be taken away.

Now she seems to be "growing cooler"...the melt-down from the frenzied dancing. She looks at Whiston and sees him with different eyes now. She admires him and once again feels he is "real and enduring" - unlike the momentary passion she has just felt dancing with Sam Adams. The spell is what is drawing her back to the other man. This and making her feel "fused" to the other man. But a "spell" is not lasting and she knows this at this moment.



"Have you finished your cribbage?" she asked, with hasty evasion of him.

"Yes," he replied. "Aren't you getting tired of dancing?"

"Not a bit," she said.

"Not she," said Adams heartily. "No girl with any spirit gets tired of dancing.--Have something else, Elsie. Come--sherry. Have a glass of sherry with us, Whiston."

Whilst they sipped the wine, Adams watched Whiston almost cunningly, to find his advantage.

"We'd better be getting back--there's the music," he said. "See the women get something to eat, Whiston, will you, there's a good chap."

Rather ignorant and condescending remark I think to poor Whiston - shows what a jerk this Sam Adams is, doesn't it? And in the beginning of this passage Elsie is still playing the game - although trying now to pay some bit of attention to Whiston she is still evading him - see first line. Sam Adams makes a remark to Whiston about how spirited Elsie is, adding "insult to injury" to poor Whiston, because Whiston is so opposite - more retiring and not dancing. Adams is looking over Whiston to find his advantage. He is very cunning in his approach. There is much tension here between the three characters.



And he began to draw away. Elsie was drifting helplessly with him. But Whiston put himself beside them, and went along with them. In silence they passed through to the dancing-room. There Adams hesitated, and looked round the room. It was as if he could not see.

Again she is being lead unconsciously to the dance floor. She doesn't seem to have a conscious 'will' to resist. Curisous last statement - "It was as if he could not see." - I am not sure what Lawrence means by this exactly. This passage with the three men - the couple and the rival male being in close proximity to each other reminds me somewhat of the last story we did, in "Shades of Love" when the two men walk off together and the woman looks on or the meeting in the hut with all three characters. All throughout this scene it is either he and she (Adams and Elsie) or he and she (Whiston and Elsie) and finally all three together observing closely each other.



A man came hurrying forward, claiming Elsie, and Adams went to his other partner. Whiston stood watching during the dance. She was conscious of him standing there observant of her, like a ghost, or a judgment, or a guardian angel. She was also conscious, much more intimately and impersonally, of the body of the other man moving somewhere in the room. She still belonged to him, but a feeling of distraction possessed her, and helplessness. Adams danced on, adhering to Elsie, waiting his time, with the persistence of cynicism.

Now oddly enough, another man takes Elsie onto the dance floor, replacing SA - yet she is conscious/aware all the time of SA watching her. He is like a ghost to her or a judgement or guardian angel. I am not sure what to make of the three references, entirely...only that they are all somewhat of a different realm than her true reality. Judgement throws me off a bit though. Not only is she conscious of SA, but also the body of Whiston moving around in the room. Now she feels the pull back towards him in a physical sense. In the beginning during the dance, she was not conscious at all of poor Whiston, in fact she was rather preoccuppied and oblivious that he even existed. Interesting last lines about Sam Adams - "persistence of cynicism".



The dance was over. Adams was detained. Elsie found herself beside Whiston. There was something shapely about him as he sat, about his knees and his distinct figure, that she clung to. It was as if he had enduring form. She put her hand on his knee.

Again she is pulled back to the physical attraction she has for Whiston. Most importantly is the statement that he had "enduring form." - Does this refer to him physically or as a whole being - body and spirit?


"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked.

"Ever so," she replied, with a fervent, yet detached tone.

"It's going on for one o'clock," he said.

"Is it?" she answered. It meant nothing to her.

"Should we be going?" he said.

She was silent. For the first time for an hour or more an inkling of her normal consciousness returned. She resented it.

I find this interesting, that she feels her old consciousness returning, but she 'resents' it. I am not quite sure why she does, maybe except that real life can be less gay and glamorous and not continually blissful, like a drug, as the dance was to her. Reality is a mixed deal and so to return to it is to leave the 'fantasy world' behind. Is she now resenting that fact? She is being childish and selfish then, to a great extent.



"What for?" she said.

"I thought you might have had enough," he said.

A slight soberness came over her, an irritation at being frustrated of her illusion.
"Why?" she said.

Again being selfish and not very considerate of Whiston at all. Thinking only of her own pleasure and satisfaction. She is "frustrated of her illusion" - a statement that now describes that she has left the illusion and feels frustrated by it all, and irritated at being so. Quite a confusing state to be in.


"We've been here since nine," he said.
That was no answer, no reason. It conveyed nothing to her. She sat detached from him. Across the room Sam Adams glanced at her. She sat there exposed for him.

His answer conveys nothing to her; is that due to her not really taking him seriously or not really paying heed to his words? Next statement says she is 'detached' from him, yet the following statement again indicates the attachment or fact that SA's presense is still very much there in the room, in that she feels now "exposed to him".



"You don't want to be too free with Sam Adams," said Whiston cautiously, suffering. "You know what he is."

"How, free?" she asked.

"Why--you don't want to have too much to do with him."

She sat silent. He was forcing her into consciousness of her position. But he could not get hold of her feelings, to change them. She had a curious, perverse desire that he should not.

This entire paragraph is interesting. He is warning her of the way she knows Sam Adams is indicating the man is - a womaniser. Next, in the fact that he was "forcing her into consciousness", and second that that "he could not get hold of her feelings", again to alter her or "change them". Last statement indicates she has "perverse desire that he does not, "... does not get 'control' over her.



"I like him," she said.

"What do you find to like in him?" he said, with a hot heart.

"I don't know--but I like him," she said.

Last 3 lines are also curious. Really Elsie cannot consciously state why she likes Sam Adams. Is it because subconscious states cannot really be explained?

[quasimodo1]

To Janine: You may think you are alone but I read this thread quite thouroughly and although I don't post much (because I havn't re-read the book), and have not voted...doesn't mean others are not interested. BTW you must check out my last e.e.cummings posting. It is prose poetry at it's best. quasi

[Janine]

To Janine: You may think you are alone but I read this thread quite thouroughly and although I don't post much (because I havn't re-read the book), and have not voted...doesn't mean others are not interested. BTW you must check out my last e.e.cummings posting. It is prose poetry at it's best. quasi

Quasi, thanks so much for paying close attention to this thread. It is good to know someone is reading it now. This is not a book - just a short story. Were you thinking of the other thread - the "Women in Love" thread? I did not have a chance to check out your e e thread yet - the prose poem - but I will now. Then I am going out again; real life calls to me. Be back later to check on things on here and post, then onto some emails and a few replies. Bye for now and thanks again for checking out the posts! ~ J

[Janine]

Posting next part of the story and will revise later with comments:


She was immutable. He sat feeling heavy and dulled with rage. He was not clear as to what he felt. He sat there unliving whilst she danced. And she, distracted, lost to herself between the opposing forces of the two men, drifted. Between the dances, Whiston kept near to her. She was scarcely conscious. She glanced repeatedly at her card, to see when she would dance again with Adams, half in desire, half in dread. Sometimes she met his steady, glaucous eye as she passed him in the dance. Sometimes she saw the steadiness of his flank as he danced. And it was always as if she rested on his arm, were borne along, upborne by him, away from herself. And always there was present the other's antagonism. She was divided.

The time came for her to dance with Adams. Oh, the delicious closing of contact with him, of his limbs touching her limbs, his arm supporting her. She seemed to resolve. Whiston had not made himself real to her. He was only a heavy place in her consciousness.

But she breathed heavily, beginning to suffer from the closeness of strain. She was nervous. Adams also was constrained. A tightness, a tension was coming over them all. And he was exasperated, feeling something counteracting physical magnetism, feeling a will stronger with her than his own, intervening in what was becoming a vital necessity to him.

Elsie was almost lost to her own control. As she went forward with him to take her place at the dance, she stooped for her pocket-handkerchief. The music sounded for quadrilles. Everybody was ready. Adams stood with his body near her, exerting his attraction over her. He was tense and fighting. She stooped for her pocket-handkerchief, and shook it as she rose. It shook out and fell from her hand. With agony, she saw she had taken a white stocking instead of a handkerchief. For a second it lay on the floor, a twist of white stocking. Then, in an instant, Adams picked it up, with a little, surprised laugh of triumph.

"That'll do for me," he whispered--seeming to take possession of her. And he stuffed the stocking in his trousers pocket, and quickly offered her his handkerchief.

The dance began. She felt weak and faint, as if her will were turned to water. A heavy sense of loss came over her. She could not help herself anymore. But it was peace.

When the dance was over, Adams yielded her up. Whiston came to her.

"What was it as you dropped?" Whiston asked.

"I thought it was my handkerchief--I'd taken a stocking by mistake," she said, detached and muted.

"And he's got it?"

"Yes."

"What does he mean by that?"

She lifted her shoulders.

"Are you going to let him keep it?" he asked.

"I don't let him."

There was a long pause.
"Am I to go and have it out with him?" he asked, his face flushed, his blue eyes going hard with opposition.

"No," she said, pale.

"Why?"

"No--I don't want to say anything about it."

He sat exasperated and nonplussed.
"You'll let him keep it, then?" he asked.

She sat silent and made no form of answer.

"What do you mean by it?" he said, dark with fury. And he started up.

"No!" she cried. "Ted!" And she caught hold of him, sharply detaining him.
It made him black with rage.

"Why?" he said.

Then something about her mouth was pitiful to him. He did not understand, but he felt she must have her reasons.

"Then I'm not stopping here," he said. "Are you coming with me?"

She rose mutely, and they went out of the room. Adams had not noticed.
In a few moments they were in the street.

"What the hell do you mean?" he said, in a black fury.

She went at his side, in silence, neutral.

"That great hog, an' all," he added.

Then they went a long time in silence through the frozen, deserted darkness of the town. She felt she could not go indoors. They were drawing near her house.

"I don't want to go home," she suddenly cried in distress and anguish. "I don't want to go home."

He looked at her.

"Why don't you?" he said.

"I don't want to go home," was all she could sob.

He heard somebody coming.

"Well, we can walk a bit further," he said.

She was silent again. They passed out of the town into the fields. He held her by the arm--they could not speak.

"What's a-matter?" he asked at length, puzzled.

She began to cry again.

At last he took her in his arms, to soothe her. She sobbed by herself, almost unaware of him.

"Tell me what's a-matter, Elsie," he said. "Tell me what's a-matter--my dear--tell me, then--"

He kissed her wet face, and caressed her. She made no response. He was puzzled and tender and miserable.

At length she became quiet. Then he kissed her, and she put her arms round him, and clung to him very tight, as if for fear and anguish. He held her in his arms, wondering.

"Ted!" she whispered, frantic. "Ted!"

"What, my love?" he answered, becoming also afraid.

"Be good to me," she cried. "Don't be cruel to me."

"No, my pet," he said, amazed and grieved. "Why?"

"Oh, be good to me," she sobbed.

And he held her very safe, and his heart was white-hot with love for her. His mind was amazed. He could only hold her against his chest that was white-hot with love and belief in her. So she was restored at last.

[downing]

Hello Janine! I am sorry for not posting lately, but I decided to have a break after this difficult school year and these difficult posts :lol: I will try to comment this part of the story so here it is.

I perceive Sam Adams like an evil spirit, even though this seems unfit in Lawrence's short stories. I'd like to exaggerate saying this, because he is stirring up the peace of the couple. L. uses the word ''antagonism'' in the following statement with the intention of describing the relationship between the two men:

And always there was present the other's antagonism.


She glanced repeatedly at her card, to see when she would dance again with Adams, half in desire, half in dread.

I find this phrase interesting. It seems that Elsie understands that she is provoking pain to Whiston, but at the same time temptention is strong. To some extent, she likes to dance with Adams. Lawrence does a great depiction here:

The time came for her to dance with Adams. Oh, the delicious closing of contact with him, of his limbs touching her limbs, his arm supporting her.
The stocking episode reveals Adams' brazeness.
The discussion between Whiston and Elsie seems very real and I like the part when he soothes her.

[Janine]

Downing, thanks and good post! I am now too tired out tonight to answer it or comment further on the story. I will try to do so tomorrow. Things on the homefront have been keeping me from threads. I will be back in full swing by next week.
One comment for now, Downing:
Yes, aren't the dance scenes exquisitely expressed? I think this aspect really stands out in this particular story. Lawrence describes the dance so wonderfully with great intensity of passion. His travel books have scenes of dances and one feels a certain euphoria in those scenes and a sense of being swept away by the rhythm and the music and the physical contact and sheer passion in dance.

Sorry again. J

[Janine]

Posting story text again and commenting/underlining keyword/phrases:


She was immutable. He sat feeling heavy and dulled with rage. He was not clear as to what he felt. He sat there unliving whilst she danced. And she, distracted, lost to herself between the opposing forces of the two men, drifted. Between the dances, Whiston kept near to her. She was scarcely conscious. She glanced repeatedly at her card, to see when she would dance again with Adams, half in desire, half in dread. Sometimes she met his steady, glaucous eye as she passed him in the dance. Sometimes she saw the steadiness of his flank as he danced. And it was always as if she rested on his arm, were borne along, upborne by him, away from herself. And always there was present the other's antagonism. She was divided.

Obviously, from the words I have indicated by underlining we get a keen sense that Elsie is torn between the two men - 'between the opposing forces of the two men' - 'she is divided' within herself. She wants to dance and be in the unconscious state of the dance but at the same time she longs for Whiston's attention. She says she is 'half in desire and half in dread' of Sam Adams. Now she is more conscious of Whiston but she is 'scarcely' so, still 'being borne along', 'upborne by him' (SA) but 'away from herself' (her true self, the self of her true reality).

The time came for her to dance with Adams. Oh, the delicious closing of contact with him, of his limbs touching her limbs, his arm supporting her. She seemed to resolve. Whiston had not made himself real to her. He was only a heavy place in her consciousness.
Interesting that at this point Whiston 'had not made himself real to her', so that she still exists in a 'dream-like' realm, feeling so close to Sam Adams in physicality. Interesting word to use - 'resolve'. I am not sure I entirely understand what Lawrence means here. Now Whiston is a 'heavy place in her consciousness' - does this indicate that reality to her is a heavy, weighty place to her?

But she breathed heavily, beginning to suffer from the closeness of strain. She was nervous. Adams also was constrained. A tightness, a tension was coming over them all. And he was exasperated, feeling something counteracting physical magnetism, feeling a will stronger with her than his own, intervening in what was becoming a vital necessity to him.

Curious - now the strain of being together physically takes it's toll. She is 'nervous' and uncomfortable. He is 'constrained', and 'exasperated'. 'Tightness' and 'tension' are 'coming over them all', so that things are shifting somewhat with the presense of Whiston so near. The woman's will becomes stronger here which is significant knowing Lawrence's views on woman. Because of this factor there is now much tension in the air and the dance to follow.



Elsie was [almost lost to her own control. As she went forward with him to take her place at the dance, she stooped for her pocket-handkerchief. The music sounded for quadrilles. Everybody was ready. Adams stood with his body near her, exerting his attraction over her. He was tense and fighting. She stooped for her pocket-handkerchief, and shook it as she rose. It shook out and fell from her hand. With agony, she saw she had taken a white stocking instead of a handkerchief. For a second it lay on the floor, a twist of white stocking. Then, in an instant, Adams picked it up, with a little, surprised laugh of triumph.

Tension builds and Adams is 'tense and fighting', even though he has resumed some physical closeness to Elsie. Now the moment of the stocking being mistaken for the hankerchief is completely significant because of the last line - he picks it up and rescues her in an instant - it is his 'suprised laugh of triumph', his triumphant moment over the will of Elsie, as Lawrence so perfectly expresses it.


"That'll do for me," he whispered--seeming to take possession of her. And he stuffed the stocking in his trousers pocket, and quickly offered her his handkerchief.

So here we further see his triumph and his trophy he has claimed, by stashing it away quickly in his pocket and giving her his in exchange. He is seeming to have possession of her with this one tiny act, a moment of opportunity for him. He has again overtaken her strong will - mastered her in this one small gesture.


The dance began. She felt weak and faint, as if her will were turned to water. A heavy sense of loss came over her. She could not help herself anymore. But it was peace.

Even thought now she is 'weak and faint' and her will is broken and seems to have 'turned to water' she is finally at 'peace' - the conflict has ended. No longer can she 'help herself'.


When the dance was over, Adams yielded her up. Whiston came to her.

Significant turning point - one man yields her up and the other arrives in time to come to her, rescue her from herself.


"What was it as you dropped?" Whiston asked.

"I thought it was my handkerchief--I'd taken a stocking by mistake," she said, detached and muted.

"And he's got it?"

"Yes."

"What does he mean by that?"

She lifted her shoulders.

"Are you going to let him keep it?" he asked.

"I don't let him."

There was a long pause.
"Am I to go and have it out with him?" he asked, his face flushed, his blue eyes going hard with opposition.

"No," she said, pale.

"Why?"

"No--I don't want to say anything about it."

He sat exasperated and nonplussed.
"You'll let him keep it, then?" he asked.

She sat silent and made no form of answer.

"What do you mean by it?" he said, dark with fury. And he started up.

"No!" she cried. "Ted!" And she caught hold of him, sharply detaining him.
It made him black with rage.

"Why?" he said.

Then something about her mouth was pitiful to him. He did not understand, but he felt she must have her reasons.

"Then I'm not stopping here," he said. "Are you coming with me?"

She rose mutely, and they went out of the room. Adams had not noticed.
In a few moments they were in the street.

"What the hell do you mean?" he said, in a black fury.

She went at his side, in silence, neutral.

"That great hog, an' all," he added.

Pretty self explanatory from the dialogue and the interchange. Whiston obviously wants her to get the stocking from Adams, but Elsie exerts her will over Whiston and refuses to. Finally he gives in, feeling she must have a good reason not to ask for it back. Even though he does not understand, he accepts it this, but he is in a 'black fury' about it. Finally seeing her mouth and her expression in which he sees something 'pitiful', he gives into her finally, or at least for now. They leave the dance to start for home.




Then they went a long time in silence through the frozen, deserted darkness of the town. She felt she could not go indoors. They were drawing near her house.

"I don't want to go home," she suddenly cried in distress and anguish. "I don't want to go home."

He looked at her.

"Why don't you?" he said.

"I don't want to go home," was all she could sob.

He heard somebody coming.

"Well, we can walk a bit further," he said.

She was silent again. They passed out of the town into the fields. He held her by the arm--they could not speak.

"What's a-matter?" he asked at length, puzzled.

She began to cry again.

At last he took her in his arms, to soothe her. She sobbed by herself, almost unaware of him.

"Tell me what's a-matter, Elsie," he said. "Tell me what's a-matter--my dear--tell me, then--"

He kissed her wet face, and caressed her. She made no response. He was puzzled and tender and miserable.

At length she became quiet. Then he kissed her, and she put her arms round him, and clung to him very tight, as if for fear and anguish. He held her in his arms, wondering.

"Ted!" she whispered, frantic. "Ted!"

"What, my love?" he answered, becoming also afraid.

"Be good to me," she cried. "Don't be cruel to me."

"No, my pet," he said, amazed and grieved. "Why?"

"Oh, be good to me," she sobbed.

And he held her very safe, and his heart was white-hot with love for her. His mind was amazed. He could only hold her against his chest that was white-hot with love and belief in her. So she was restored at last.

So many emotions going on here if you look at the words I underlined. The course of true love never runs smoothly - it is a definitely a give and take, a contest of wills, misunderstandings and understandings, highly charged emotional issues, perhpas a sense of forgiving in the end or as the last line states a sense of being 'restored at last'.

[Janine]

Hello Janine! I am sorry for not posting lately, but I decided to have a break after this difficult school year and these difficult posts :lol: I will try to comment this part of the story so here it is.

I perceive Sam Adams like an evil spirit, even though this seems unfit in Lawrence's short stories. I'd like to exaggerate saying this, because he is stirring up the peace of the couple. L. uses the word ''antagonism'' in the following statement with the intention of describing the relationship between the two men:

Yes, perhaps evil spirit is a bit strong a phrase to use to describe Sam Adams, but he does exert a kind of 'spell' over Elsie with his 'physicality' and his smooth dancing style. She is in a sort of swoon or spell, as she dances with him. He has a magical effect upon her, but I think that instances like this, with frenzied passionate dancing, can take us out of the realm of reality, don't you?
Yes, there is a lot of antagonism between the two men, throughout this whole section of the story. SA is definitely stirring up the peace between Whiston and Elsie and undermining their relationship.




I find this phrase interesting. It seems that Elsie understands that she is provoking pain to Whiston, but at the same time temptation is strong. To some extent, she likes to dance with Adams. Lawrence does a great depiction here:

Downing, Lawrence's dance depictions are some of his very best. I quite agree, and I think she does like dancing with Adams very much so. Lawrence totally captures the passion of the dance, don't you think?


The stocking episode reveals Adams' brazeness.
The discussion between Whiston and Elsie seems very real and I like the part when he soothes her.

As I said, he is exerting, once again, but even more prominently, his strong will over her. He has done that all along in the dance, mesmerizing her, and when she begins to regain her consciousness, this golden oportunity, to really exert his will, is presented to him; naturally he snatches it up and the stocking. He is an opportunist and it is quite brazen, especially in the time this story takes place. In some sense he rescues her from embarrassment, but also, he does this to get his own prize and exert his manhood.

[Janine]

Posting next part of story:



III
She refused to go to her work at Adams's any more. Her father had to submit and she sent in her notice--she was not well. Sam Adams was ironical. But he had a curious patience. He did not fight.

So she quits her job after the stocking incident. What does Lawrence mean by SA was ironical and also does the last statement refer to Adams or to her father?


In a few weeks, she and Whiston were married. She loved him with passion and worship, a fierce little abandon of love that moved him to the depths of his being, and gave him a permanent surety and sense of realness in himself. He did not trouble about himself any more: he felt he was fulfilled and now he had only the many things in the world to busy himself about. Whatever troubled him, at the bottom was surety. He had found himself in this love.[Quote]
This paragraph is interesting to me in pointing out how Whiston perceives his love for Elsie and how he has 'found himeslf in this love,' in finality. She loves with a 'passion' and a sense of 'worship' and 'fierce abandon' while Whiston sees his love as a 'surety' or a sense of security in marriage and is 'fulfilled' in this love for Elsie.

[Quote]They spoke once or twice of the white stocking.

"Ah!" Whiston exclaimed. "What does it matter?"

He was impatient and angry, and could not bear to consider the matter. So it was left unresolved.

They spoke of it only 'once or twice', apparently because Whiston could not face his feelings about it, so the whole matter was left 'unresolved' about the white stocking incident; yet still it is there to (subconsciously) undermine their relationship or create a sense of something without closure, something unsettled between them.


She was quite happy at first, carried away by her adoration of her husband. Then gradually she got used to him. He always was the ground of her happiness, but she got used to him, as to the air she breathed. He never got used to her in the same way.
That last statement seems very significant to me. Does Whiston not get used to Elsie the way she does to him? Does it just show the difference in the sexes or has Elsie now fallen out of 'passion' with Whiston and settled into 'getting used to him' only? At first she is 'carried away' by him and 'adores' him, now she is merely 'used to him'. Is she bored in a way?

Inside of marriage she found her liberty. She was rid of the responsibility of herself. Her husband must look after that. She was free to get what she could out of her time.
So marriage has 'freed' Elsie of the 'responsibility of herself'. Does this indicate now that she is totally dependent on Whiston? If so, in what ways? Seems 'he must look after that' and so she 'is free to get what she could out of her time'. That last statement is interesting and leaves me with more questions in my mind. I am not entirely sure of it's full meaning.


So that, when, after some months, she met Sam Adams, she was not quite as unkind to him as she might have been. With a young wife's new and exciting knowledge of men, she perceived he was in love with her, she knew he had always kept an unsatisfied desire for her. And, sportive, she could not help playing a little with this, though she cared not one jot for the man himself.

So here is proof that she likes playing with the man's emotions, but she cares not a 'jot' for Sam Adams, the man. Elsie is very reckless when it comes to other's emotions.


When Valentine's day came, which was near the first anniversary of her wedding day, there arrived a white stocking with a little amethyst brooch. Luckily Whiston did not see it, so she said nothing of it to him. She had not the faintest intention of having anything to do with Sam Adams, but once a little brooch was in her possession, it was hers, and she did not trouble her head for a moment how she had come by it. She kept it.

She gives little regard for the giver, but loves the gift, but mostly I think she likes best having the secret from her husband, that secret is a possession in itself.


Now she had the pearl ear-rings. They were a more valuable and a more conspicuous present. She would have to ask her mother to give them to her, to explain their presence. She made a little plan in her head. And she was extraordinarily pleased. As for Sam Adams, even if he saw her wearing them, he would not give her away. What fun, if he saw her wearing his ear-rings!

So she quite enjoys this sneaking around behind her husband's back. She certainly feels no guilt about it and schemes and plans how to get away with wearing them without Whiston detecting anything to do about Sam Adams. Her delight is further enhanced with the idea of SA seeing her wear the earrings. All this really to feed Elsie's ego.


She would pretend she had inherited them from her grandmother, her mother's mother. She laughed to herself as she went down town in the afternoon, the pretty drops dangling in front of her curls. But she saw no one of importance.

So wearing the earrings, she feels quite smart and covert in her plans to cover up the fact of the real gift-giver. Ironically, her first trip she encounters no one of any importance, which makes her seem a fool in her vanity. In the last line do you think that 'no one of importance' directly or specifically means Sam Adams?

[Quark]

So she quits her job after the stocking incident. What does Lawrence mean by SA was ironical and also does the last statement refer to Adams or to her father?

I think by "ironical" Lawrence was trying to say that Adams was pretending not to understand why she was leaving her job. Also, it is Adams that L refers to when he says he didn't fight with her. Adams, rather than openly confront Elsie about their romantic interest in each other, decides to fake ignorance of their relationship.



This paragraph is interesting to me in pointing out how Whiston perceives his love for Elsie and how he has 'found himeslf in this love,' in finality. She loves with a 'passion' and a sense of 'worship' and 'fierce abandon' while Whiston sees his love as a 'surety' or a sense of security in marriage and is 'fulfilled' in this love for Elsie.

Elsie and Whiston both love each other, but there are psychological complication which make their marriage troublesome. Downing brought up the childishness of Elsie, and I think that's a good way to describe how she handles her relationships. She looking for pleasure--both physical and psychological. She likes her marriage to Whiston because it frees her of any compunctions she might suffer after her enjoyments. She says that she's given herself over to Whiston, but in what way? She still keeps secrets from him, and she has her own life outside of him. So what part of her life has she given over Whiston? Elsie pushes onto Whiston her permanent social consciousness--or as she puts it: her everyday life. Once unburdened of her responsibilty to that side of herself, she can go on to enjoy all the pleasures she wants without shame or guilt. She does love Whiston--passionately even at times--but the reason she needs him is because of the mental displacement she uses him for. Whiston, on the other hand, uses Elsie for egotistical reasons. He desires Elsie because her beauty can give him more confidence in himself. Lawrence mentions how marriage solidifies Whiston's personality, and helps Whiston focus on the things outside himself. He wants Elsie to satisfy his own self-image. Naturally, this makes him very possessive. In fact, he turns dangerously possessive and hits Elsie--even threatening to murder. He loves Elsie, but he needs her to belong to him alone for that sake of his fragile personality. Despite all of this, though, they do love each other strongly. The opening of the short story shows them very affectionate and loving together, but as the story progresses we see that their radically divergent personal problems drive them apart.

[Janine]

I think by "ironical" Lawrence was trying to say that Adams was pretending not to understand why she was leaving her job. Also, it is Adams that L refers to when he says he didn't fight with her. Adams, rather than openly confront Elsie about their romantic interest in each other, decides to fake ignorance of their relationship.

Quark, am I glad to see you! Finally someone comes to my rescue. I was afraid I would be accused of 'blocking', doing all the posts alone; also it is nice to discuss this with someone else. Thanks for reading the story and posting.

I agree now with what you wrote so far here - it just seemed to be a little vague to me. That is interesting - so, you think that Adams fakes ignorance of their relationship; I can see how that could be; that makes sense to me now.



Elsie and Whiston both love each other, but there are psychological complication which make their marriage troublesome. Downing brought up the childishness of Elsie, and I think that's a good way to describe how she handles her relationships. She looking for pleasure--both physical and psychological. She likes her marriage to Whiston because it frees her of any compunctions she might suffer after her enjoyments. She says that she's given herself over to Whiston, but in what way? She still keeps secrets from him, and she has her own life outside of him. So what part of her life has she given over Whiston? Elsie pushes onto Whiston her permanent social consciousness--or as she puts it: her everyday life. Once unburdened of her responsibilty to that side of herself, she can go on to enjoy all the pleasures she wants without shame or guilt. She does love Whiston--passionately even at times--but the reason she needs him is because of the mental displacement she uses him for. Whiston, on the other hand, uses Elsie for egotistical reasons. He desires Elsie because her beauty can give him more confidence in himself. Lawrence mentions how marriage solidifies Whiston's personality, and helps Whiston focus on the things outside himself. He wants Elsie to satisfy his own self-image. Naturally, this makes him very possessive. In fact, he turns dangerously possessive and hits Elsie--even threatening to murder. He loves Elsie, but he needs her to belong to him alone for that sake of his fragile personality. Despite all of this, though, they do love each other strongly. The opening of the short story shows them very affectionate and loving together, but as the story progresses we see that their radically divergent personal problems drive them apart.

Yes, I definitely think there are complications in their marriage that surface as the story goes along, and I am not entirely sure they will ever be resolved. I too think the two people are so radically different. Lawrence believed in working through these complications, but I did wonder if that would be the case in this story or would the couple go on for years this way -with Elsie playing these selfish little games behind Teddy's back. I don't feel the ending is resolved by this one act of violence.
Another thing prominent in Lawrence's work is this sense of sudden violence surfacing with one of the characters - usually the one being put down or abused mentally or physically. If you read back to 'Prussian Officer' this sort of thing builds up and culminates in one sudden violent act directed to the person who has been inflicting pain on the antagonist. I read briefly some words on this story - that this story advances the idea of working out problems in a marriage or relationship. I don't of course agree with
Lawrence's idea of striking Elsie, but I can see being human, Whiston snapped and could take no more of her game playing and nonscense. I think it is interesting the way you see the couple supporting each other in certain ways - first that Elsie is free in the marriage to continue with her secrets and feel safe and not have to feel quilty, second how Elsie solidifies Whiston and makes him able to pursue his ambitions outside the marriage. I don't know if it is such a negative thing as you indicated for Whiston, but you are right in assuming that they both are 'selfish' in certain ways only thinking of their own needs. They both need ego support I think.

But as you pointed out the love does exist between them, even though the relationship is a difficult one to work out at this point in their marriage. Remember, they have not been married long, so they are still learning to cope with each other and to adjust to married life. I feel that after reading many biographies on Lawrence and Frieda's life together, that he being somewhat a newly married man at the time he wrote this story, he took from his own experiences to some degree. He and Frieda his wife were quite different in many ways. Again one cannot say it mimics the author's life, but some factors do play into that equation in the story and the understanding of how women and men function together in married life. I think he has captured the complications that arise when two people try to make a go of it and especially when the marriage is a fairly new one with much uncharted territory yet to discover about each other and much to work out or iron out the differences and tensions.

As before to copy what you once said in 'Lighthouse' I hope this makes some sense and is not a big ball of fuzz (I like that!) floating around in my head. Tell me what you think. We can move onto the next part of the story; hoping to finish up soon.

[Pensive]

But as you pointed out the love does exist between them, even though the relationship is a difficult one to work out at this point in their marriage. Remember, they have not been married long, so they are still learning to cope with each other and to adjust to married life. I feel that after reading many biographies on Lawrence and Frieda's life together, that he being somewhat a newly married man at the time he wrote this story, he took from his own experiences to some degree. He and Frieda his wife were quite different in many ways. Again one cannot say it mimics the author's life, but some factors do play into that equation in the story and the understanding of how women and men function together in married life. I think he has captured the complications that arise when two people try to make a go of it and especially when the marriage is a fairly new one with much uncharted territory yet to discover about each other and much to work out or iron out the differences and tensions.

I agree with you here, Janine. Love does exist between them both and they care for each other. Both have their pros and cons for which they have to suffer and make-up as well.

[Janine]

Pensive, good to see you back. Good to know you have been reading the posts. I was feeling quite lonely in here, lately. I was determined to complete this story though, so we can go onto a new one. I hate having things just hanging, unfinished. Thanks to you and Quark I have some feedback on what I wrote. Glad you stopped by.

I feel that Lawrence intended the story to convey the love in this marriage, but in realistic terms and to show that 'the course of true love never ran smoothly', especially in marriages....there are always many things to work out between two people with separate personalities. I don't think they necessarily worked it out the best way at the end, but it was a start perhaps in Whiston showing Elsie that he would no longer put up with her frivilous ways. Marriage takes work and I wish that Virgil were here now since I am sure he would have a few things to say about that; he usually does.

[Quark]

That was a fast response, Janine. The Lawrence nerve in your brain must be very sensitive. You say:



I don't feel the ending is resolved by this one act of violence.
Another thing prominent in Lawrence's work is this sense of sudden violence surfacing with one of the characters - usually the one being put down or abused mentally or physically. If you read back to 'Prussian Officer' this sort of thing builds up and culminates in one sudden violent act directed to the person who has been inflicting pain on the antagonist. I read briefly some words on this story - that this story advances the idea of working out problems in a marriage or relationship. I don't of course agree with
Lawrence's idea of striking Elsie, but I can see being human, Whiston snapped and could take no more of her game playing and nonscense.


No, I don't think that Whiston striking her has ended their problems. At the end of the party in the second chapter we have an ending very similar to this one, but this fight between the two them continues into the next chapter. Whiston may have relieved some of his pent up rage. He definitely had a "So foul a sky clears not without storm" attitude for most of the story. This really doesn't address the reason for Elsie's flirting. All he does is intimidate her into telling him her secret; it doesn't remove the reason she was keeping secrets.



I don't know if it is such a negative thing as you indicated for Whiston


I wasn't trying to pass judgment on Whiston and call this feeling he has positive and that negative--at least not that simplistically. I'm just showing that the story might be more complicated than a cheating wife tormenting her husband (which is how Whiston interprets Lawrence's story). I like how Pensive put it:


Love does exist between them both and they care for each other. Both have their pros and cons for which they have to suffer and make-up as well.

Whiston also has some selfish impulses which cause some of the marital strife. He is somewhat possessive and overbearing, and not irrelevantly the narrator informs us, "He was so sure, so permanent, he had her so utterly in his power. It gave her a delightful, mischievous sense of liberty. Within his grasp, she could dart about excitingly". A main cause for Elsie's flirtatiousness is Whiston's control over her; not that Elsie's vanity has nothing to do with this. I'm just pointing out Whiston's own weaknesses which, along with Elsie's, lead to the violent episode at the conclusion.

Remember in the Chekhov thread we were talking about what caused Yakov to be despondent in "Rothschild's Violin". When Yakov says, "Why did people in general hinder each other from living? What losses were due to it!", I think this is part of what he's referring to. Two people love each other immensely, but an unfortunate psychological impulse drives Whiston to nearly kill Elsie.



As before to copy what you once said in 'Lighthouse' I hope this makes some sense and is not a big ball of fuzz (I like that!) floating around in my head. Tell me what you think. We can move onto the next part of the story; hoping to finish up soon.

Floating fuzz? I think you're starting to improvise. Go with it, though, not all messy balls of words are the same.

What is the next story? Anything good?

[Janine]

That was a fast response, Janine. The Lawrence nerve in your brain must be very sensitive.

So true, Quark,I do have a sensitive nerve in my brain now for Lawrence. After reading three full biographies (and working on a 4th) and mostly all his novels...working now on later novels I missed and reading, reading, reading always about the author/his works online and in commentary books, I think I can pretty much see how Lawrence thought and how he wrote although 'the more one learns sometimes the less one knows' - that is because you realise there is still so much that can still be learned. Lately, I have been discovering things I had not known about Lawrence and the degree of his depth of thought has become more evident to me. So I have become sensitive to his words/ideas.


No, I don't think that Whiston striking her has ended their problems. At the end of the party in the second chapter we have an ending very similar to this one, but this fight between the two them continues into the next chapter. Whiston may have relieved some of his pent up rage. He definitely had a "So foul a sky clears not without storm" attitude for most of the story. This really doesn't address the reason for Elsie's flirting. All he does is intimidate her into telling him her secret; it doesn't remove the reason she was keeping secrets.

I quite agree with all of this thinking. Yes, the violent moment at the end of the book is only one act in reaction to the problems that will probably still exist. It is not a solution by a long shot. He does intimidate her into the confession - she does not offer it up on her own, and they never air out the root of the problem.


I wasn't trying to pass judgment on Whiston and call this feeling he has positive and that negative--at least not that simplistically. I'm just showing that the story might be more complicated than a cheating wife tormenting her husband (which is how Whiston interprets Lawrence's story). I like how Pensive put it:

Nothing that Lawrence observed and wrote about concerning human beings is ever simplistic. The complexity makes it the more human and realistic. So it is true that one cannot say if Whiston is being negative or positive in his actions. The story is much more complicated than a cheating wife or one who entertains thoughts of cheating. The problem is more deeply rooted within their relationship. You bring out excellent points in that Whiston probably allows or enables Elsie to be like she is and then finally he lashes out when she continues with it instead of stopping it at the beginning, perhaps at the dance. His domineering way probably does encourage this behavior in Elsie. It is a complex thing that goes on between them and I hardly have the answers to how or why they act as they do, but they do.
I agree and I like how Pensive worded that, too.




Whiston also has some selfish impulses which cause some of the marital strife. He is somewhat possessive and overbearing, and not irrelevantly the narrator informs us, "He was so sure, so permanent, he had her so utterly in his power. It gave her a delightful, mischievous sense of liberty. Within his grasp, she could dart about excitingly". A main cause for Elsie's flirtatiousness is Whiston's control over her; not that Elsie's vanity has nothing to do with this. I'm just pointing out Whiston's own weaknesses which, along with Elsie's, lead to the violent episode at the conclusion.

Yes, agreed - they are both selfish and childish in their own ways. It is a sort of powerplay between them, don't you think? Each has his own style of lording power over the other. If Whiston's control does cause her to stray flirtiously it is also due to both this and her vanity or her vanity makes it easy for her to react in this way.


Remember in the Chekhov thread we were talking about what caused Yakov to be despondent in "Rothschild's Violin". When Yakov says, "Why did people in general hinder each other from living? What losses were due to it!", I think this is part of what he's referring to. Two people love each other immensely, but an unfortunate psychological impulse drives Whiston to nearly kill Elsie.

Well, that would make sense, since Lawrence believed strongly that psychological/subconscious factors controlled the way people reacted to different circumstances and to other people. The ending in this story is so reminiscent of one of the last scenes in 'Prussian Officer'. Have you read that story, Quark?; if not you should read it. It gives one a lot of insight into Lawrence and how he thought. Also, many of the posts by Virgil have been excellent and very insightful, and of course, I posted, as well, and others added some fine comments. It was a very good discussion.



Floating fuzz? I think you're starting to improvise. Go with it, though, not all messy balls of words are the same.

Well, I knew it was something like that you had said in the 'Lighthouse' discussion. I never can quote accurately...yes 'messy balls of words' more like it...:lol:


What is the next story? Anything good?
:lol: haha - they are all good! Well, anyway, I had someone email me saying she would be studying 4 L stories this fall for college - all 4 are good ones - so I thought I would read them and pick one. Haven't settled on one yet. For tomorrow let me post next part of this story - there is about 3 sections left and we can discuss it. I had it in a file offline split into sections to post. I will do so tomorrow - ok.

If you want me to, by Monday, I will choose the next short story and post it and I will make sure it is available online as well, so people can begin reading it now.

[grace86]

I quite agree with all of this thinking. Yes, the violent moment at the end of the book is only one act in reaction to the problems that will probably still exist. It is not a solution by a long shot. He does intimidate her into the confession - she does not offer it up on her own, and they never air out the root of the problem.

I do not think that the scene at the end of the book is the last of it at all. Elsie seemed like a woman who liked the attention, if it wasn't this one man with the stockings, it could likely be someone else. And her husband seems like he would be the one to take that kind of tension until it just breaks him and he is caused to harm her again...or possibly kill her. Kind of reminds me of Gerald in Women in Love

I might be up for another short story. I read the white stocking completely and loved it, my capabilities on commenting though were a little restricted. But the move is almost completed and I will have about a month before school starts. So let us know Janine!

[Janine]

I do not think that the scene at the end of the book is the last of it at all. Elsie seemed like a woman who liked the attention, if it wasn't this one man with the stockings, it could likely be someone else. And her husband seems like he would be the one to take that kind of tension until it just breaks him and he is caused to harm her again...or possibly kill her. Kind of reminds me of Gerald in Women in Love

I might be up for another short story. I read the white stocking completely and loved it, my capabilities on commenting though were a little restricted. But the move is almost completed and I will have about a month before school starts. So let us know Janine!

Hi Grace, Glad to see you resurface as Pensive did. We also have a new face here - Quark stopping by since I said I would be a part of his Chekov SS thread. It is interesting so far if anyone else cares to check it out, but I know we are all pretty limited in our time schedules. I know I am. I was trying to make August a bit of a rest period but I did want to finish up this story. Important thing is that you did read the story - glad you liked it so much, too. I will pick the next story by Monday. I have a few in mind.

I agree with you that the ending does remind me of the problems that existed between Gerald and Gudrun somewhat, but I think in this instance the married couple are wanting to be 'committed' to each other and marriage and they just do not know at this point how to be that or how to effectively live with each other; but like you, I do see problems down the road for the two of them. Actually, Lawrence, himself, did not have a particularly 'peaceful' marriage and there were random reports that he did hit Frieda, but unlike Elsie, Frieda I believe dished it right back to Lawrence. Lawrence always did want to be the boss and the king of his realm, but even though his wife humored him by moving about to various residents and countries, she did not put up with all his male domineering ways. I don't know how much of the reports are actually true about any domestic violence, but it was certainly not a quiet or sedate marriage, by a long shot. When I read my first biography about Lawrence, I was shocked to find this out, but the more I read of his work it now does not surprise me at all. Hey, the man was flawed as we all are in our own ways. But I certainly would never advocate violence in domestic matters; I don't think Lawrence is doing so either. He is merely acknowledging that it does exist, and also this confusion between the sexes.



Here's the next part of the story underlining keyword/phrases (continuing in this fashion, since I have been presenting it this way this time around):


Whiston came home tired and depressed. All day the male in him had been uneasy, and this had fatigued him. She was curiously against him, inclined, as she sometimes was nowadays, to make mock of him and jeer at him and cut him off. He did not understand this, and it angered him deeply.

She was uneasy before him.

She knew he was in a state of suppressed irritation. The veins stood out on the backs of his hands, his brow was drawn stiffly. Yet she could not help goading him.

If you note all the words underlined you can clearly see that he comes home in a foul humor and depressed and instead of trying to be supportive as a wife might try to be, Elsie only proceeds to 'make mock of him and jeer' and 'she could not help goading him', which seems to be the case recently as was stated. Their marriage now has lapsed into this stage and they are used to each other perhaps but do not regard each other nicely, at all. This attitude of Elsie's provokes him further and there is so much tension in these few paragraphs that you can see what something is boiling below the surface, that must eventually erupt into the violent act at the end.



"What did you do wi' that white stocking?" he asked, out of a gloomy silence, his voice strong and brutal.

"I put it in a drawer--why?" she replied flippantly.

"Why didn't you put it on the fire back?" he said harshly. "What are you hoarding it up for?"

"I'm not hoarding it up," she said. "I've got a pair."

He relapsed into gloomy silence. She, unable to move him, ran away upstairs, leaving him smoking by the fire. Again she tried on the earrings. Then another little inspiration came to her. She drew on the white stockings, both of them.

Wow, I did not realise until reading this just now that he is kind of asking for it by mere mention of the stocking. He brings it up out of the blue. There could be no thought of it but apparently he has harbored it in his mind as a grievance so it surfaces. He must know her by now, and how she would goad him and tease him now with the stocking. Why did he even bring up the subject? He is picking a fight with her and obviously he is provoking her, since she has been provoking his anger, up till this point.


Presently she came down in them. Her husband still sat immovable and glowering by the fire.

"Look!" she said. "They'll do beautifully."

And she picked up her skirts to her knees, and twisted round, looking at her pretty legs in the neat stockings.

He filled with unreasonable rage, and took the pipe from his mouth.

"Don't they look nice?" she said. "One from last year and one from this, they just do. Save you buying a pair."

And she looked over her shoulders at her pretty calves, and the dangling frills of her knickers.

"Put your skirts down and don't make a fool of yourself," he said.

"Why a fool of myself?" she asked.

And she began to dance slowly round the room, kicking up her feet half reckless, half jeering, in a ballet-dancer's fashion. Almost fearfully, yet in defiance, she kicked up her legs at him, singing as she did so. She resented him.

Funny, but she is making mock further by dancing and bringing to mind the whole dancing incident with Sam Adams that started the stocking incident and by doing so she is further provoking him, reallly pushing him now to his limit. She really knows how to get him riled up. She does it 'almost fearfully' but 'in defiance.' So she is asking for it in the end. Almost like she knows what will happen eventually but she can't stop herself from her actions.



"You little fool, ha' done with it," he said. "And you'll backfire them stockings, I'm telling you." He was angry. His face flushed dark, he kept his head bent.

She ceased to dance.

"I shan't," she said. "They'll come in very useful."

He lifted his head and watched her, with lighted, dangerous eyes.

"You'll put 'em on the fire back, I tell you," he said.

It was a war now. She bent forward, in a ballet-dancer's fashion, and put her tongue between her teeth.

So now to this pont it has become a real 'war' between them....a war of 'wills' so to speak. Sets up the idea of who will have the strongest will in the end.


"I shan't backfire them stockings," she sang, repeating his words, "I shan't, I shan't, I shan't."

And she danced round the room doing a high kick to the tune of her words.

There was a real biting indifference in her behaviour.

"We'll see whether you will or not," he said, "trollops! You'd like Sam Adams to know you was wearing 'em, wouldn't you? That's what would please you."

"Yes, I'd like him to see how nicely they fit me, he might give me some more then."

And she looked down at her pretty legs.

He knew somehow that she would like Sam Adams to see how pretty her legs looked in the white stockings. It made his anger go deep, almost to hatred.

"Yer nasty trolley," he cried. "Put yer petticoats down, and stop being so foul-minded."

"I'm not foul-minded," she said. "My legs are my own. And why shouldn't Sam Adams think they're nice?"

There was a pause. He watched her with eyes glittering to a point.

So now there is a lot of mud-slinging with nasty words to lash out at her - Whiston is really angered now almost to the point 'of hatred.' Interesting that she states to him 'My legs are my own.' She is saying, in essense I think, my body is my own and you have no right to it.


"Have you been havin' owt to do with him?" he asked.

"I've just spoken to him when I've seen him," she said. "He's not as bad as you would make out."

"Isn't he?" he cried, a certain wakefulness in his voice. "Them who has anything to do wi' him is too bad for me, I tell you."

"Why, what are you frightened of him for?" she mocked..

Interesting that he seems to come alive and be fully awakened at the statement she makes about Sam Adams being 'not as bad as you would make him out'. Now he also sees how serious it is that she actually did make contact with SA recently and she asked 'what are you frightened of him for?' which of course Whiston cannot clearly answer and she knows it, further adding fuel to the flames to his suspicions and jealousy and the war of will between them. It is as though these words are amunition.


She was rousing all his uncontrollable anger. He sat glowering. Every one of her sentences stirred him up like a red-hot iron. Soon it would be too much. And she was afraid herself; but she was neither conquered nor convinced.
A curious little grin of hate came on his face. He had a long score against her.

She knows she is pushing him to the boiling point, the big explosion and yet she continues in the same vane. As it states he had a 'long score against her'; this animosity has been building all this time, with many other little annoyances perhaps daily, but this one issue will be the 'straw that broke the camel's back', so to speak. It is the catalyst to cause the final action. His anger is 'red-hot iron' and in another statement 'molten' - extreme anger at this point.


"What am I frightened of him for?" he repeated automatically. "What am I frightened of him for? Why, for you, you stray-running little *****."

She flushed. The insult went deep into her, right home.

"Well, if you're so dull--" she said, lowering her eyelids, and speaking coldly, haughtily.

"If I'm so dull I'll break your neck the first word you speak to him," he said, tense.

Now the insults are really flying, as they say 'hitting below the belt'. Things are getting really nasty.


"Pf!" she sneered. "Do you think I'm frightened of you?" She spoke coldly, detached.

She wasfrightened, for all that, white round the mouth.
His heart was getting hotter.
"You will be frightened of me, the next time you have anything to do with him," he said.
"Do you think you'd ever be told--ha!"

Three times the word 'frightened' is used in different contexts, and many times prior to this passage, emphasising the situation and the fear he is threatening Elsie with. There is fear in both Elsie (this passage) and fear in Whiston (fear of his own actions) as well in the following passage:

Her jeering scorn made him go white-hot, molten. He knew he was incoherent, scarcely responsible for what he might do. Slowly, unseeing, he rose and went out of doors, stifled, moved to kill her.
He stood leaning against the garden fence, unable either to see or hear. Below him, far off, fumed the lights of the town. He stood still, unconscious with a black storm of rage, his face lifted to the night.

By himself he is 'fuming' with anger - the town lights refect his mood. He is in a state of 'unconsciousness' now - does Lawrence feel that he is out of control at this point and 'unconsciously' will act in the final moments of the story? I know that Lawrence does believe in this uncontrollable 'unconscious' state in human beings. The word 'unconscious' is mentioned throughout the story; when Elsie is dancing with Sam Adams and now when Whiston is pushed to his limits' 'he is unconsciously in a 'black storm of rage.' In the following statement the word "unconscious' again appears. Lawrence's use of repetition is well known to us by now and he seems to be emphasising this idea - the idea of the 'unconscious will' of man.


Presently, still unconscious of what he was doing, he went indoors again. She stood, a small stubborn figure with tight-pressed lips and big, sullen, childish eyes, watching him, white with fear. He went heavily across the floor and dropped into his chair.

Now on returning he still 'unconsciously' sees her as 'stubborn, tight-pressed lips, big sullen, childish eyes, white with fear.'

His impression is a mixture of how he is perceiving her and yet he sees the childish way she is and that she is 'fearing' him. At this point she is revealing her weak/vulnerable part that he can use to throw her 'will' over.

There was a silence.


"You're not going to tell me everything I shall do, and everything I shan't," she broke out at last.

He lifted his head.
"I tell you this," he said, low and intense. "Have anything to do with Sam Adams, and I'll break your neck."

She laughed, shrill and false.

"How I hate your word 'break your neck'," she said, with a grimace of the mouth. "It sounds so common and beastly. Can't you say something else--"

There was a dead silence.

"And besides," she said, with a queer chirrup of mocking laughter, "what do you know about anything? He sent me an amethyst brooch and a pair of pearl ear-rings."
"He what?" said Whiston, in a suddenly normal voice. His eyes were fixed on her.
"Sent me a pair of pearl ear-rings, and an amethyst brooch," she repeated, mechanically, pale to the lips.
And her big, black, childish eyes watched him, fascinated, held in her spell.

She is really provoking him, now that he has lorded over her his male 'will', by telling him about the earrings and the brooch. She is aware of his threatening words and yet she insists on walking this thin line of danger. She is so defiant with her own will taking over - almost 'unconsiously' unable to stop the provoking she has been doing all along.

[Quark]

Hi Grace, Glad to see you resurface as Pensive did. We also have a new face here - Quark stopping by since I said I would be a part of his Chekov SS thread.

Actually, I was here once before. Many, many pages back I made my first post on this thread. I suppose I came back for nostalgic reasons--though I really can't thank you enough for helping me with the Chekhov discussion.


I do not think that the scene at the end of the book is the last of it at all. Elsie seemed like a woman who liked the attention, if it wasn't this one man with the stockings, it could likely be someone else. And her husband seems like he would be the one to take that kind of tension until it just breaks him and he is caused to harm her again...or possibly kill her. Kind of reminds me of Gerald in Women in Love


It seems like we're all in agreement that the ending isn't really a conclusion; but, do you think L meant it to be? Perhaps Janine you're in the best situation to answer this question. I know from reading Sons and Lovers that Lawrence did not feel any sympathy with the feminist movement, and might some of that antipathy towards women come out in this story. I'm not saying that Lawrence was a complete misogynist--I can think of writers much worse. But, he didn't seem to have much respect for women's freedom, and neither does Whiston in this story. Do you think Lawrence would have sided with Whiston and thought that violence was the proper remedy?



I agree with you that the ending does remind me of the problems that existed between Gerald and Gudrun somewhat, but I think in this instance the married couple are wanting to be 'committed' to each other and marriage and they just do not know at this point how to be that or how to effectively live with each other; but like you, I do see problems down the road for the two of them. Actually, Lawrence, himself, did not have a particularly 'peaceful' marriage and there were random reports that he did hit Frieda, but unlike Elsie, Frieda I believe dished it right back to Lawrence. Lawrence always did want to be the boss and the king of his realm, but even though his wife humored him by moving about to various residents and countries, she did not put up with all his male domineering ways. I don't know how much of the reports are actually true about any domestic violence, but it was certainly not a quiet or sedate marriage, by a long shot. When I read my first biography about Lawrence, I was shocked to find this out, but the more I read of his work it now does not surprise me at all. Hey, the man was flawed as we all are in our own ways. But I certainly would never advocate violence in domestic matters; I don't think Lawrence is doing so either. He is merely acknowledging that it does exist, and also this confusion between the sexes.


This is very true. They were very committed to each other, but at some point they cross a line where suddenly their behavior becomes dangerous. Where do you think that happens? And why? With Elsie it's a little easier to see since most of the story is centered on her and her changes are gradual. With Whiston, however, the progression is a little more hidden. In fact, I think it's a little hard to notice Whiston's shortcomings because the story frames everything he does as a reaction even though it isn't at all. His emotions are reactions, and those seem completely justified. His anger, for example, is very understandable. It reminded me of something from Thomas Mann's "Tonio Kroger" where the main character is in love. He tells us, "It hurts deeply to feel wonderful, playful, and mournful energies stirring inside you and yet to know that the people you long to be with are cheerfully inaccessible to those forces". This feeling is a bit of what Whiston is getting when Elsie is floating away from him and he can't do anything about it. I think we sympathize with this, but Whiston goes beyond this. He spins out of control into a possessive rage where he must subdue his wife--despite whether that would make her happy. Compare that attitude with Tonio Kroger who says, "But though he stood excluded, hopeless, and lonely...his heart was alive. It beat warmly and sadly...and in blissful self-denial". Whiston is not happy or even content in his relationship with Elsie. He flies into a fiery rage at his wife. This seems like it comes more from Whiston's selfish possessiveness than from his true adoration of his wife. Whiston doesn't seem to care whether he loves his wife; he seems more obsessed with being loved. As Thomas Mann says in "Tonio Kruger", "Happiness is not...being loved; that is only a nauseating satisfaction of the ego". I think that's what Whiston wants from his wife during their confrontations; and, he crosses that line between understandable grief to possessive rage when he starts trying to intimidate Elsie.

Elsie is a little bit easier to comprehend. Her story is more directly told. She crosses the line when she starts taunting her husband and flirting with Adams. Her vanity and need for excitement and freedom are her weaknesses.

[Janine]

Actually, I was here once before. Many, many pages back I made my first post on this thread. I suppose I came back for nostalgic reasons--though I really can't thank you enough for helping me with the Chekhov discussion.

Quark - alright; you are good! I did not even know if anyone would read my post today or tonight. Thanks so much for answering it, but honestly I feel so guilty about the Chekov discussion -- I can't seem to get the story re-read and I want to comment more, once I do. Can you just hang in there and wait till I re-read the story. I promise to comment on whether I think Yakov ever was truly happy and this requires my needing to review much of the story. I think now I do recall you popping in once or twice on this thread. Why did you not come back? I hope this time you can stay awhile.


It seems like we're all in agreement that the ending isn't really a conclusion; but, do you think L meant it to be? Perhaps Janine you're in the best situation to answer this question. I know from reading Sons and Lovers that Lawrence did not feel any sympathy with the feminist movement, and might some of that antipathy towards women come out in this story. I'm not saying that Lawrence was a complete misogynist--I can think of writers much worse. But, he didn't seem to have much respect for women's freedom, and neither does Whiston in this story. Do you think Lawrence would have sided with Whiston and thought that violence was the proper remedy?

To your first question I would have to say - No, I don't think that Lawrence meant the ending to be definitive or resolved in anyway. I feel that none of Lawrence's works end resolved totally. Sometimes there is a step towards that end or solution, but always there is left a question or a feeling of something yet to be resolved or even a subtle unease about the ending. I think intentionally Lawrence did this for several reasons and one is that real life is not resolved and does not have an ending to each incident or story. Remember that this short story is only a brief window into the lives of these two people and their marriage. We are not given all the information but must form oppinions and conjectures about their behavior and how they are acting in these particular scenes.

You know I am not quite clear or the one to ask about the feminist movement and Lawrence's attitudes toward the feminists. I think only that people took Lawrence wrong so many times. I know that Virgil has posted on this subject and aspect of Lawrence's writing and his ideas and now I forget exactly what he said. Perhaps I will ask him to answer this question for you. It is strange and curious if he was truly antifeminist since he had many a feminist friend. I always felt he had high regard for woman and their rights. Certain things he wrote did stimulate responses from the feminists and he was crucified for his comments. But Lawrence often changed those attitudes through life. His wife was an independent type woman. He definitely was not a complete misogynist. I think he really loved women but I do think because of his mother's suffocating ways he had a certain kind of twisted feeling for them and a lot of this is tied in with fear as well - fear or women. If you read his very first novel (pre-Sons and Lovers) 'The White Peacock' you will see the the book revolves very much around one woman who is very conniving and plays games very much like Elsie does. Also, the women in the book do seem to be something to be feared. It is hard to explain in one short post. He meets this keeper Annabele and he tells him about his wife. I will have to look up somethings about this subject and the examples from the book. I have a book I bought of commentary on L's Early Short Fiction and it mentions this idea of men having a fear of woman, therefore exercising a sort of power over them. I am not sure now I am explaining this very well - it is quite complex. In the novel "Women in Love" there is much going on with power plays between the sexes. In this book this fear of the woman and her power comes out clearly. In our recent discussions on WIL we talked about this aspect of Lawrence quite a bit. I will check the threads to see if I can find the one Virgil wrote addressing Lawrence's feminist attitudes.

I don't think that Lawrence, consciously, thought that violence was the answer but I don't know 100%. I do know that his later work such as the novel I am reading is filled with blantant violence and is actually very distasteful. I am only half way through but Virgil read it and said the violence gets worse. I never get the sense that Lawrence is advocating violence though. His mother and father fought verbally but domestic violence as is shown to occur in "Sons and Lovers" was exaggerated and not completely related to Lawrence's own home life. Many things effected Lawrence at an early age - his illness, his mother's overbearing and possessive ways, her death, his father and mother not getting along, the loss of his brother so suddenly. It was a very tumultuous upbringing for a man so very sensitive and talented. I for one believe that much of his childhood had to do with the way that talent and his ideas were shaped and developed.


This is very true. They were very committed to each other, but at some point they cross a line where suddenly their behavior becomes dangerous. Where do you think that happens? And why? With Elsie it's a little easier to see since most of the story is centered on her and her changes are gradual. With Whiston, however, the progression is a little more hidden. In fact, I think it's a little hard to notice Whiston's shortcomings because the story frames everything he does as a reaction even though it isn't at all. His emotions are reactions, and those seem completely justified. His anger, for example, is very understandable. It reminded me of something from Thomas Mann's "Tonio Kroger" where the main character is in love. He tells us, "It hurts deeply to feel wonderful, playful, and mournful energies stirring inside you and yet to know that the people you long to be with are cheerfully inaccessible to those forces". This feeling is a bit of what Whiston is getting when Elsie is floating away from him and he can't do anything about it. I think we sympathize with this, but Whiston goes beyond this. He spins out of control into a possessive rage where he must subdue his wife--despite whether that would make her happy. Compare that attitude with Tonio Kroger who says, "But though he stood excluded, hopeless, and lonely...his heart was alive. It beat warmly and sadly...and in blissful self-denial". Whiston is not happy or even content in his relationship with Elsie. He flies into a fiery rage at his wife. This seems like it comes more from Whiston's selfish possessiveness than from his true adoration of his wife. Whiston doesn't seem to care whether he loves his wife; he seems more obsessed with being loved. As Thomas Mann says in "Tonio Kruger", "Happiness is not...being loved; that is only a nauseating satisfaction of the ego". I think that's what Whiston wants from his wife during their confrontations; and, he crosses that line between understandable grief to possessive rage when he starts trying to intimidate Elsie.

To your first question - It is hard to say when they each cross the line into the danger zone. I do think it is gradual but I think the seeds of his antagonism were there from the beginning, before they were married. When the dance takes place they were not married were they? I got the impression the weren't. So Whiston knew full well what Elsie was like even then and Elsie knew what Whiston was like and how he reacted to her flirting with someone else. At that point he was only sulky and unhappy. It usually takes awhile before a man will reach this degree of a boiling point and I quite agree that he seems to have a lot of reason to get worked up and angry and remember if he is jealous, she is his wife. As far as the example you sited from Mann's work I can see a different attitude there on love. I don't necessarily think there is one right or wrong way. I think that if Elsie truly loved Whiston she would want to please him and not provoke him or she would want to support him when he is feeling low or depressed from his job, but instead she goads him and teases him and they both resort to nasty remarks. I don't think it unreasonable of Whiston to want to be loved. I think all people deserve to be loved and especially in a marriage. But I think that one partner cannot demand it of the other. I think in essense this is what Mann is saying, but I don't agree with this statement "Happiness is not...being loved; that is only a nauseating satisfaction of the ego". I think one 'can love and be loved' in return and feel complete and happy. I think if one is loved and then that person can't return it and does not love, as well - yes, this statement of Manns 'that it is only nauseating satisfaction of the ego' could be true, but one has to put it into a certain context. It does not really fit our story context in my opinion. This being a married and committed couple they should love one another and expect they will be loved in return.



Elsie is a little bit easier to comprehend. Her story is more directly told. She crosses the line when she starts taunting her husband and flirting with Adams. Her vanity and need for excitement and freedom are her weaknesses.

Yes, and the story really seems to center around Elsie, as many of Lawrence's works do center around the woman charater. She stands out more clearly since she is the colorful character in the story. Her aliveness and vivaciousness, compared to her husband's more layed-back quiet attitude tinged with brooding/hidden resentments is quite a contrast. The clash to come further emphasises the differences between them.

[Quark]

Quark - alright; you are good! I did not even know if anyone would read my post today or tonight. Thanks so much for answering it, but honestly I feel so guilty about the Chekov discussion -- I can't seem to get the story re-read and I want to comment more, once I do. Can you just hang in there and wait till I re-read the story. I promise to comment on whether I think Yakov ever was truly happy and this requires my needing to review much of the story. I think now I do recall you popping in once or twice on this thread. Why did you not come back? I hope this time you can stay awhile.

Oh, no, don't worry about the Chekhov thread. I'm just temporizing until some more of the dedicated Chekhov fans get to the discussion. I had some people in mind when I started it, but they went idle just a couple of days before and haven't come back. The questions you raised were good, though. I really had to rethink my reading of that story.

I do hope to hang around for the next Lawrence story--make it a good one. I think I'll point out some of the differences between Lawrence and Chekhov here soon once I give it some thought.

Back to the story:

To your first question I would have to say - No, I don't think that Lawrence meant the ending to be definitive or resolved in anyway.

Hmm, if the story isn't resolved at the end, what kind of ending do we have? Is it tragic? Are the characters locked in a cycle of togetherness followed by violence and submission?



You know I am not quite clear or the one to ask about the feminist movement and Lawrence's attitudes toward the feminists. I think only that people took Lawrence wrong so many times. I know that Virgil has posted on this subject and aspect of Lawrence's writing and his ideas and now I forget exactly what he said. Perhaps I will ask him to answer this question for you. It is strange and curious if he was truly antifeminist since he had many a feminist friend. I always felt he had high regard for woman and their rights. Certain things he wrote did stimulate responses from the feminists and he was crucified for his comments. But Lawrence often changed those attitudes through life. His wife was an independent type woman. He definitely was not a complete misogynist. I think he really loved women but I do think because of his mother's suffocating ways he had a certain kind of twisted feeling for them and a lot of this is tied in with fear as well - fear or women. If you read his very first novel (pre-Sons and Lovers) 'The White Peacock' you will see the the book revolves very much around one woman who is very conniving and plays games very much like Elsie does. Also, the women in the book do seem to be something to be feared. It is hard to explain in one short post. He meets this keeper Annabele and he tells him about his wife. I will have to look up somethings about this subject and the examples from the book. I have a book I bought of commentary on L's Early Short Fiction and it mentions this idea of men having a fear of woman, therefore exercising a sort of power over them. I am not sure now I am explaining this very well - it is quite complex. In the novel "Women in Love" there is much going on with power plays between the sexes. In this book this fear of the woman and her power comes out clearly. In our recent discussions on WIL we talked about this aspect of Lawrence quite a bit. I will check the threads to see if I can find the one Virgil wrote addressing Lawrence's feminist attitudes.

What lead me to think that Lawrence might mean the ending to be a change in their relationship is Lawrence's own feelings toward women. I know in Sons and Lovers his depiction of the suffragette is less than flattering. And, if we look at the story from that perspective, we might argue that Elsie needs a man to control her life. She obviously very fickle-minded and narcissistic, and she might look to a man to give her some stability and strength. Lawrence might be thinking of violence as a way to free Elsie from her flights of fancy. In this sense--I mean the misogynist sense--the ending might be uplifting and definitive.


I don't think that Lawrence, consciously, thought that violence was the answer but I don't know 100%. I do know that his later work such as the novel I am reading is filled with blantant violence and is actually very distasteful. I am only half way through but Virgil read it and said the violence gets worse. I never get the sense that Lawrence is advocating violence though. His mother and father fought verbally but domestic violence as is shown to occur in "Sons and Lovers" was exaggerated and not completely related to Lawrence's own home life. Many things effected Lawrence at an early age - his illness, his mother's overbearing and possessive ways, her death, his father and mother not getting along, the loss of his brother so suddenly. It was a very tumultuous upbringing for a man so very sensitive and talented. I for one believe that much of his childhood had to do with the way that talent and his ideas were shaped and developed.

No, I don't think that Lawrence was promoting spousal abuse directly. But, I think he may have been justifying it in the situation Whiston was in. And, he may have been arguing that it was beneficial to Elsie. Obviously, our twenty-first century sensibilities recoil from that--and rightfully so. We recognize that there are underlying problems to their marriage that can't be overcome through fear and intimidation, but that doesn't stop Lawrence from insinuating that Elsie needed a strong male in her life to snap her out of her fantasy life.


As far as the example you sited from Mann's work I can see a different attitude there on love. I don't necessarily think there is one right or wrong way.

That's exactly why I brought in an outside source. I think Lawrence had a particular definition of love and he framed the story to fit that. I wanted to show a different opinion because I thought the contrast might make Lawrence's opinions more visible. This happens especially well when we put him up against someone like Mann who is an intellectual opposite on this topic. You're right when you say "It doesn't fit the context", but that's the point.

Alright, that's enough about those ideas for a while. I don't want to get too tedious. I feel like we've been talking about my points the whole time, and I'm making the book bend too much to my reading. What are some of your questions? What sticks out about this story to you?

[Janine]

Oh, no, don't worry about the Chekhov thread. I'm just temporizing until some more of the dedicated Chekhov fans get to the discussion. I had some people in mind when I started it, but they went idle just a couple of days before and haven't come back. The questions you raised were good, though. I really had to rethink my reading of that story.

Hi Quark, I read your entry last night late, but I was watching my new DVD of Hamlet, so I refrained from answering; too tired by then to think anyway and my mind went into Shakespeare mode.;)
But I have good news! I re-read the Chekov story before I nodded off to sleep. I think now I have a clearer understanding of the story and will post something today, while it is still fresh in my mind. I know what you mean about interested parties going idle - same problem with all the threads. I really wonder sometimes how bad our attention span is these days - probably due to too much overload for everyone!


I do hope to hang around for the next Lawrence story--make it a good one. I think I'll point out some of the differences between Lawrence and Chekhov here soon once I give it some thought.

Good! Great - so happy to have another interested participant in the discussions. Originally another guy was going to join in but he had some problems with a tree falling on his house. I am hoping he eventually resurfaces, because he likes Lawrence. Anyway, we needed males to round things out. I assume you are a male? (so funny since people have been wrong before) I will email Virgil and ask him if he is doing the next story, too.



Hmm, if the story isn't resolved at the end, what kind of ending do we have? Is it tragic? Are the characters locked in a cycle of togetherness followed by violence and submission?

What kind of ending do we have?...well, I would say....a typical Lawrence ending....one that makes one think far beyond the ending of the story. As I said before, this story in particular is a brief window into the lives of these two people and their marital problems. I don't think the ending is conclusive or can be. I don't think they will be locked into this cycle but who knows? It may end up being their pattern and they may stay together inspite of the friction and personality differences. Some people hate stories that leave one hanging like this. Is it a tragedy? I don't think it is. I honestly don't think Lawrence wrote tragedies; Hardy wrote tragedies and I think somehow Chekov's story is a sort of tragedy. In fact, Lawrence wrote a very interesting critical essay on Hardy and he was quite opposed to his ending in "Jude the Obscure"; he sites solid arguments/reasons why he feels this way. I don't think that Lawrence liked the completely tragic elements in Hardy's work, although he did appreciate his work in many respects. What I can gather from my reading of that essay (Study of Thomas Hardy) is that he felt in Tess, there was some form of hope in the ending but in Jude there was not and it was the more tragic of the two.

I did wonder if Lawrence wrote a critical essay on Chekov and I was trying to find that, but so far I have not even dug up any comments on the author. When I read Lawrence's 'Collected Letters', I may come up with some comments. He extensively wrote about Dostoievsky and his "The Grand Inquisitor". I don't think this essay was very favorable or in agreement towards all of Dostoievsky's ideas. He seemed to mention that he liked the book "The Idiot" better. Lawrence's essay on D is quite long and I have it scanned, but I have not read the entire essay yet, and I did not read the novel "The Brother's Karamazov". I read some Tolsoy and some Turenyev and a few other Russian authors, but not extensively. I think often, Lawrence said he did not care for the 'hopelessness' of the Russian authors, which might tell you something.
You must admit that the tone of the Chekov story is quite sad and dismal, throughout. I think this to be a huge difference between Chekov and Lawrence - Lawrence has more fluctuations in his story's tone, generally (highs and lows), whereas Chekov's work seems to me to be more tonally even, and in the case of 'Rothchild's Violin' that tone is tragic and sad and hopeless. It might just be the tone of this one story and others may be more uplifting. I don't know, but one other story I read by Chekov, seemed to have this same tragic note and tone throughout. As we advance in that thread, I will better be able to judge this and make a more accurate assessment. I think that I definitely need to read more of Chekov. I will comment more extensively in the Chekov thread.


What lead me to think that Lawrence might mean the ending to be a change in their relationship is Lawrence's own feelings toward women. I know in Sons and Lovers his depiction of the suffragette is less than flattering. And, if we look at the story from that perspective, we might argue that Elsie needs a man to control her life. She obviously very fickle-minded and narcissistic, and she might look to a man to give her some stability and strength. Lawrence might be thinking of violence as a way to free Elsie from her flights of fancy. In this sense--I mean the misogynist sense--the ending might be uplifting and definitive.

"Sons and Lovers" - being one of Lawrence's first published works, and basically autobiographical...also a young work, so that his ideas were not fully formed. If you have read "The Rainbow" or "Women in Love", you would see that Lawrence is changing and developing in his ideas. He is struggling through his attitudes and trying to come up with solutions. Often he knows what is wrong with the world, but he does not come up effectively with what will replace the old ways. This is something he struggled with his entire life - a kind of quest for L. Many of the things Lawrence said about women, later were reversed or worked out differently. I would not call him a 'misogynist' at all, oh far from it. In fact most of Lawrence's friends were actually independent women - so explain that.
Lawrence has been criticised for saying many things and some were just plain taken the wrong way or taken out of context with much misunderstanding.

Once again, I don't feel that this ending is uplifting or definitive, and I don't think it is because I live in this century and find the domestic violence repulsive and unacceptable. I found the violent act in 'Prussian Officer' the same, but it would be as something one could envision in new fiction, from this century. I think this theme of violence coming to the surface is universal. It is just there; it happens. Even today there is much spousal abuse and violence in marriages. It is sad to say. It may be that Lawrence (who I believe wrote this in his early years) did believe hitting Elsie would be the only way to get her under control. However as the narrator is he necessarily condoning the action? Even if he was I don't think this attitude would have prevailed throughout his life, but I could be wrong. I will try to look into my commentary books on the early fiction and see if they mention this story. I believe they do, and if so I am sure they address this whole idea and I can get some further thoughts on just what Lawrence is trying to say at the end of this story. He may have written this in the beginning of his own marriage and the beginning was somewhat tumuluous with he and his wife working through their differences. I believe this story does reflect some of that struggle of the first years of marriage, but how much; I don't know yet.


No, I don't think that Lawrence was promoting spousal abuse directly. But, I think he may have been justifying it in the situation Whiston was in. And, he may have been arguing that it was beneficial to Elsie. Obviously, our twenty-first century sensibilities recoil from that--and rightfully so. We recognize that there are underlying problems to their marriage that can't be overcome through fear and intimidation, but that doesn't stop Lawrence from insinuating that Elsie needed a strong male in her life to snap her out of her fantasy life.

Ok, I just answered this above. Another thought just came to me to add. Lawrence in "Women in Love" shows two of his main characters - Gerald and Gundrun - locked in a kind of war of their 'wills'. Both having strong wills, this culminates in a definitive clash of "wills', much like the ending in this story. I don't want to spoil that book for you, should you decide to read it, but I can say that not always does the man win out. As Lawrence developed many of his stories show very strong willed woman. His mother herself was strong willed; probably Lawrence was rebelling against her in "Sons and Lovers" and this attitude differs greatly from his attitudes that were to follow. Lawrence, himself, wrote to a publisher that he would never write the same way he had written in "Sons and Lovers" again.


That's exactly why I brought in an outside source. I think Lawrence had a particular definition of love and he framed the story to fit that. I wanted to show a different opinion because I thought the contrast might make Lawrence's opinions more visible. This happens especially well when we put him up against someone like Mann who is an intellectual opposite on this topic. You're right when you say "It doesn't fit the context", but that's the point.

Well, Lawrence did have a definite definition of love or of relationships. He really did not call it romantic love. He believed in a 'blood philosophy' concerning the relationship between people. This opens a whole mess of topics and Virgil is the best person to explain this. Some of his posts, here in this thread, do address this idea. Virgil did his thesis on Lawrence's 'Transfiguration' idea. You see, Lawrence had different ideas on the union between men and women. I will see what I can come up with to explain this to you better.


Alright, that's enough about those ideas for a while. I don't want to get too tedious. I feel like we've been talking about my points the whole time, and I'm making the book bend too much to my reading. What are some of your questions? What sticks out about this story to you?

I will have to think if I have any questions. I don't presently but maybe by the end of the story I will. Hope all that I wrote here is at least interesting if not informative or curious and something you can think further about. Feel free to question all you want - not tedious at all - this is what discussion should be composed of - questions and (at least attempts at) answers!
Good post, Quark!

[Janine]

Quark and everybody, If you are satisfied with my last post I will post last part of the story, so we can finish up today or tomorrow. If you want to comment on my last post - feel free - anybody.



He seemed to thrust his face and his eyes forward at her, as he rose slowly and came to her. She watched transfixed in terror. Her throat made a small sound, as she tried to scream.

Then, quick as lightning, the back of his hand struck her with a crash across the mouth, and she was flung back blinded against the wall. The shock shook a queer sound out of her. And then she saw him still coming on, his eyes holding her, his fist drawn back, advancing slowly. At any instant the blow might crash into her.

Finally there is the eruption of the anger that has been building up inside of Whiston for several years now. This is the definitive moment that he exerts his male will and dominance over Elsie. And if you notice, she knows what is about to happen when she sees his look. She knows now that she has pushed him to his limit.


Mad with terror, she raised her hands with a queer clawing movement to cover her eyes and her temples, opening her mouth in a dumb shriek. There was no sound. But the sight of her slowly arrested him. He hung before her, looking at her fixedly, as she stood crouched against the wall with open, bleeding mouth, and wide-staring eyes, and two hands clawing over her temples. And his lust to see her bleed, to break her and destroy her, rose from an old source against her. It carried him. He wanted satisfaction.

Now, by her reactions of terror, this arested his actions temporarily, so that he can only hang before her 'fixedly'. Those last three lines are very characteristic of Lawrence's writing - especially "rose from an old source" - the male 'will' is being exerted towards the female quite explicitely in this line. Also, very prominent in Lawrence's work is this idea of this 'lust' or 'blood lust'. In "Women in Love" this same kind of clashing of wills occurs with Gurdrun and Gerald with a definite building up to a point of 'blood lust' or passionate action against the opposing character. So do you think when he says "He wanted satisfaction" he means he is satisfied seeing her bleed before him and in terror? Or just the satisfaction that he has finally subdued her?


But he had seen her standing there, a piteous, horrified thing, and he turned his face aside in shame and nausea. He went and sat heavily in his chair, and a curious ease, almost like sleep, came over his brain.

Almost immediately after his harsh action, he is feeling 'shame and nausea', for her standing there, 'a piteous, horrified thing.' But then he 'heavily' sits down and a 'curious ease almost like sleep comes over his brain.' So does his sense of relief unconsciously cause him to lapse into this state of 'curious ease'? Does he feel any quilt for his extreme actions?


She walked away from the wall towards the fire, dizzy, white to the lips, mechanically wiping her small, bleeding mouth. He sat motionless. Then, gradually, her breath began to hiss, she shook, and was sobbing silently, in grief for herself. Without looking, he saw. It made his mad desire to destroy her come back.

Instead of evoking pity with her tears and sobbing, she seems to further provoke him and he feels 'his mad desire to destroy her' come back. Pretty stong words 'mad desire to destroy her' - does he say this because he is so worked up he wants to whipe her out completely and not deal with the situation anymore?


At length he lifted his head. His eyes were glowing again, fixed on her.

"And what did he give them you for?" he asked, in a steady, unyielding voice.

Her crying dried up in a second. She also was tense.

"They came as valentines," she replied, still not subjugated, even if beaten.

"When, today?"

"The pearl ear-rings today--the amethyst brooch last year."

"You've had it a year?"

"Yes."

I wonder if those are 'crocodile' tears since 'her crying dried up in a second'...interesting. Now she is just 'tense.' Elsie seems to be able to turn it on and off at will.

Now all the questioning takes place - probably this questioning should have occurred long ago by Whiston - he should have confronted Elsie concerning her flirting with SA and others. It seems the violent act had to happen before he could get through to her enough (get her full attention) in order to directly ask her about the gifts and her attention to Sam Adams.


She felt that now nothing would prevent him if he rose to kill her. She could not prevent him any more. She was yielded up to him. They both trembled in the balance, unconscious.

Wow, these three lines really show her 'will' is broken (maybe only temporarily) and she must now submit to her husband. The last line is quite curious in that the both 'trembled in the balance'. Is Lawrence saying now that the marriage will be balanced or is this a tedious position to be in? I am not sure what I think of the line. Perhaps the marriage is like a 'teeter totter', precariously balanced, for the time being.



"What have you had to do with him?" he asked, in a barren voice.

"I've not had anything to do with him," she quavered.

"You just kept 'em because they were jewellery?" he said.

A weariness came over him. What was the worth of speaking any more of it?

He did not care any more. He was dreary and sick.

So even though he has exerted his will in a very prominent way, he is now feeling 'what is the use?' and also as though he 'longer cares' feeling 'dreary' and 'sick.' It is quite a roller coaster ride at this point, and has been so far in the snatches of their married life we have been privy to.


She began to cry again, but he took no notice. She kept wiping her mouth on her handkerchief. He could see it, the blood-mark. It made him only more sick and tired of the responsibility of it, the violence, the shame.

So at this point I think Elsie is looking for sympathy and she is getting him into a confused state of guilt and 'shame'. So now he begins to calm down, to some extent. From these passages, I don't think he feels particularly proud of what he has done, but in desperation, he has lashed out at his wife and is confused a little by his actions and her reactions. At this point they are on shaky ground and they probably wonder what will happen next. Tensions are high.


When she began to move about again, he raised his head once more from his dead, motionless position.

"Where are the things?" he said.

"They are upstairs," she quavered. She knew the passion had gone down in him.

"Bring them down," he said.

"I won't," she wept, with rage. "You're not going to bully me and hit me like that on the mouth."

And she sobbed again. He looked at her in contempt and compassion and in rising anger.

It seems to me that using her tears of rage and then she again trying to exert her own will, by the statement 'You're not going to bully me and hit me....", she is being brashly defiant. She knows that he just hit her, and could easily hit her again or even kill her. Interesting mix of emotions - he now looks at her in 'contempt and compassion', but after it says he has a 'rising anger.'



"Where are they?" he said.

"They're in the little drawer under the looking-glass," she sobbed.

He went slowly upstairs, struck a match, and found the trinkets. He brought them downstairs in his hand.

"These?" he said, looking at them as they lay in his palm.

She looked at them without answering. She was not interested in them any more.

He looked at the little jewels. They were pretty.

"It's none of their fault," he said to himself.

I wonder if the two lines I underlined could be representative/symbolic of Elsie being pretty and his saying 'it's none of their fault'; does he subconsciously think it is not really Elsie's fault, because she is pretty and vivicious and has the power to attract. Just a thought, might be way off base. Interesting that he does not destroy the gems/presents in the fire, as angry as he is, but rationally boxes them up and mails them promptly back to Sam Adams, which of course would be more rational and more of a statement to SA.


And he searched round slowly, persistently, for a box. He tied the things up and addressed them to Sam Adams. Then he went out in his slippers to post the little package.

When he came back she was still sitting crying.

"You'd better go to bed," he said.

She paid no attention. He sat by the fire. She still cried.


"I'm sleeping down here," he said. "Go you to bed."

In a few moments she lifted her tear-stained, swollen face and looked at him with eyes all forlorn and pathetic. A great flash of anguish went over his body. He went over, slowly, and very gently took her in his hands. She let herself be taken. Then as she lay against his shoulder, she sobbed aloud:

"I never meant--"

"My love--my little love--" he cried, in anguish of spirit, holding her in his arms.

THE END.

I think the end is a cool down period for both of them. He goes out for a time to post the package and so when he comes back he has cooled off and there is a melt-down between them. She is softer now, too, sitting crying by herself. So first, subtly, he states he is going to withdraw his closeness and himself from her for the night, by sleeping downstairs separating them physically and emotionally. This seems to be the deciding factor for Elsie since she gives him a 'forlorn and pathetic' look - at this point it works with a 'flash of anquish' going over his body, so that he caves in and goes to her tenderly. When he does do this she also gives in and abandons her strong 'will' saying "I never meant--" - not quite an appology but close enough for now I suppose. At least it is a gesture. The last line is working towards a sort of healing and understanding between them, I believe, but they probably are far from a permanent solution to their differences.

Yeah - THE END!

I revised some of this and also I found some good comments on the story in a commentary book I own. I will post those later and also announce the next short story.

[Quark]

I'll put in one quick comment, here, before we start the next story.



I wonder if the two lines I underlined could be representative/symbolic of Elsie being pretty and his saying 'it's none of their fault'; does he subconsciously think it is not really Elsie's fault, because she is pretty and vivicious and has the power to attract. Just a thought, might be way off base. Interesting that he does not destroy the gems/presents in the fire, as angry as he is, but rationally boxes them up and mails them promptly back to Sam Adams, which of course would be more rational and more of a statement to SA.

I understood the "their" to refer symbolically to Elsie's vanity. He's forgiving Elsie in this moment as well as the jewelery. That same vanity is what makes Elsie keep the gems when it would be far more rational to return them.

Now, you've rode out the suspense as far as it can go. What's are we reading next?

[Janine]

The next story we will be reading and discussing is:

Odour of Chrysanthemums



This is considered, by many, as one of Lawrence's finest short stories. It is often studied in schools and universities and is very well-known.
I wanted to do "Daughters of the Vicar", because one of the characters carries over into this later story, but unfortunately, DOTV is 50 pages long, too long for a one month disussion. I will probably read it independently.

Quark, glad you see your response. I was wondering where you ran off to. This is great.

I understood the "their" to refer symbolically to Elsie's vanity. He's forgiving Elsie in this moment as well as the jewelery. That same vanity is what makes Elsie keep the gems when it would be far more rational to return them.
Now, you've rode out the suspense as far as it can go.

That really clarifies it nicely. Nice thought that it was also a gesture of forgiving. Whiston is being rational in this act of mailing the gifts back to SA, you are quite right.
I might have a few more comments on the last story taken from a book I have been reading on Lawrence's Early Fiction. I have to scan some of the pages. So while we are all reading the next story, I will do so and post it 'in conclusion', if you don't mind.

[Virgil]

"Odour of Chrysanthemums" oh that is a good story. I will try to participate on this one. I'll read it over the weekend.

[Pensive]

Janine, Odour of Chrysanthemums seems very interesting. I would try my best to participate in it (at least appear now and then) and hope school which would open now don't prove to be an obstacle. :)

[Janine]

Janine, Odour of Chrysanthemums seems very interesting. I would try my best to participate in it (at least appear now and then) and hope school which would open now don't prove to be an obstacle. :)

Pensive and Virgil, glad you plan to participate. Yes, I have been reading some commentary on this story and it sounds interesting. I may have read it years ago, but don't remember it too well.
Pensive, since you read "Sons and Lovers" I think you will see some links to the book.
How funny, Pensive, that you should say that you hope school does not become an 'obstacle'. :lol: I really laughed at that one! I hope in the end that our discussions support your school studies; I believe that this story is often studied in schools and should prove beneficial to you someday, if you study any Lawrence in your classes.;)

[Pensive]

Pensive and Virgil, glad you plan to participate. Yes, I have been reading some commentary on this story and it sounds interesting. I may have read it years ago, but don't remember it too well.
Pensive, since you read "Sons and Lovers" I think you will see some links to the book.
How funny, Pensive, that you should say that you hope school does not become an 'obstacle'. :lol: I really laughed at that one! I hope in the end that our discussions support your school studies; I believe that this story is often studied in schools and should prove beneficial to you someday, if you study any Lawrence in your classes.;)

Unfortunately, they don't teach Lawrence's work at this level.

[Janine]

Unfortunately, they don't teach Lawrence's work at this level.

True, but maybe you will retain some of what you are learning for the future. It could help you emensely someday. Also just learning to think and view stories in a new way will help with with other authors. One has to learn to interpret and analysis. I am sure we are all learning something new everday on Lit Net, don't you agree? Even about human nature.

[Pensive]

True, but maybe you will retain some of what you are learning for the future. It could help you emensely someday. Also just learning to think and view stories in a new way will help with with other authors. One has to learn to interpret and analysis. I am sure we are all learning something new everday on Lit Net, don't you agree? Even about human nature.

Well, we are learning something all the time. Even when we are not seeking it. They say the silence teaches well too. :)

But the thing is teachers in school want the work they assign completed before anything else. Though of course one doesn't have to study all day along but my school is quite famous for making students even do that! (well all the day is still exaggerated as there are other things one does.) :p

[Janine]

Well, we are learning something all the time. Even when we are not seeking it. They say the silence teaches well too. :)

But the thing is teachers in school want the work they assign completed before anything else. Though of course one doesn't have to study all day along but my school is quite famous for making students even do that! (well all the day is still exaggerated as there are other things one does.) :p

Gee, Pensive, I hope you get a little time of your own. Do they expect you to learn while you are asleep with subconscious recordings like in the book "Brave New World". I would imagine your schedule would be strick, way stricker I think that over here in the states, but most countries give me the impression of being more advanced or more intense and dedicated to education and that is something to be proud of. But one does need to learn 'from silence' and the restful periods are equally important to human stability. One can't work 24 hours a day. Rest and relaxation are important, too.

Like Virgil, I don't think I will read this new story until the weekend. This week so far is rather busy for me. I went out most of yesterday and had a nice time - I called it my 'mental health' day. Went to the Philadelphia Art Museum which I love. Nice to see something different for a change and not be glued to my computer all day long.

I still have not scanned the parts of my book on White Stocking commentary but will try and do that tomorrow, realistically. Sorry for the delay. My rest period was necessary.

[Quark]

How are we going to read this story? Do you want to post sections for discussion, or can I interject random thoughts?

[Janine]

Quark, I suppose I have a systematic mind because I always find it easier and more efficient and effective in discussion to post parts of the book and discuss them in the order they develop in the story/book. I feel so aimless when we all just throw out random thoughts. I found that to be the problem in "To the Lighthouse". If you notice I have not participated too much in that thread. I feel as though people keep getting caught up on one issue and can't move forward. There were a lot of aspects to that book we could have discussed but now we are nearing the end of the monthly discussion and people will just drift off. To me posting from the beginning of the story shows the great way it is crafted and thought out. Tell me what you think on the idea. If I don't do it this way I feel horribly lost or floundering and aimless. Maybe it is just me but watching the story develop and change and the characters doing the same is part of the thrill and interest of reading these short stories.

PS: I just read your post in Chekov and found both to be really good. I will comment further later on.

[Pensive]

Quark, I suppose I have a systematic mind because I always find it easier and more efficient and effective in discussion to post parts of the book and discuss them in the order they develop in the story/book. I feel so aimless when we all just throw out random thoughts. I found that to be the problem in "To the Lighthouse". If you notice I have not participated too much in that thread. I feel as though people keep getting caught up on one issue and can't move forward. There were a lot of aspects to that book we could have discussed but now we are nearing the end of the monthly discussion and people will just drift off. To me posting from the beginning of the story shows the great way it is crafted and thought out. Tell me what you think on the idea. If I don't do it this way I feel horribly lost or floundering and aimless. Maybe it is just me but watching the story develop and change and the characters doing the same is part of the thrill and interest of reading these short stories.

PS: I just read your post in Chekov and found both to be really good. I will comment further later on.

I agree with you, Janine. It looks better if we discuss it by 'parts' because it adds up a proper sequence. :) But shouldn't we discuss them in a manner that we wouldn't have to quote every single line? Only those paragraphs, lines or words that we find interesting from the specific part of the story which we are discussing I think we should comment upon. But the present way is quite okay as well, though sometimes I find it a bit difficult to comment on every aspect of the story.

As for the story, hopefully I would have it completed over the weekend. See you all! :)

[Quark]

You're certainly the most organized person, Janine. You're posts actually have paragraphs with a coherent flow from proposition to conclusion. I just say things in a big block of words; a sort of stream of consciousness. I like to think it's charming its own way, but most likely it's just annoying. As for posting chunks of the text, I think it has its positives. It does pace the conversation; and, it gives people common reference points to use. They don't have to introduce their own evidence--just point to the text already posted. Although, that isn't to take anything away from the way we've done things in the other threads--the To The Lighthouse discussion has consistently drawn attention and there have been 275 posts. There, rather than post sections of the story, we introduced a character or theme for discussion. I don't know which is better, but I'm not horribly opposed to either. I probably should decide since I'm leading the Chekhov discussion. Here, though, I think Janine has earned the right to decide.

Can't wait until we get the discussion going.

[Janine]

You're certainly the most organized person, Janine. You're posts actually have paragraphs with a coherent flow from proposition to conclusion. I just say things in a big block of words; a sort of stream of consciousness. I like to think it's charming its own way, but most likely it's just annoying.
Quark, thanks, first statements here sound like a compliment. I am not (let me reiterate this fact) an organised person, well not entirely...I am always striving for it, but you should see my living quarters since I joined Lit Net! ugh. In fact, I am trying to address that unorganised mess right now today and this week. I do actually have an organised mind naturally, when I zero in on something. I think that is part of my apparent or suspected ADD (needing a framework), but actually if I discuss things randomly, in no consistent order or sequence/direction, I seem to falter and flounder and not function well in the discussion at all....I feel totally lost, even when your 'random stream of consciousness' posts do indeed seem charming to read. I have had emense problems discussing and posting in "To The Lighthouse"; I think because the discussion is so disjointed to me...I really feel lost. I feel it is random and I can't function in that random way of thought. There might be tons of pages but so much of the discussion to me seemed to go back and forth and not get anywhere - like in a circle. Also I have found in discussion of this nature they often just fade out quickly, but then maybe they would have anyway.


As for posting chunks of the text, I think it has its positives. It does pace the conversation; and, it gives people common reference points to use. They don't have to introduce their own evidence--just point to the text already posted. Although, that isn't to take anything away from the way we've done things in the other threads--the To The Lighthouse discussion has consistently drawn attention and there have been 275 posts. There, rather than post sections of the story, we introduced a character or theme for discussion. I don't know which is better, but I'm not horribly opposed to either. I probably should decide since I'm leading the Chekhov discussion. Here, though, I think Janine has earned the right to decide.

It might be ridiculous to discuss a 'book' by quoting long passages and one can't post all of the book to discuss, of course - it would take a year! However, if you check out our recent discussion in "Women in Love" it was fairly organised and sequencial and organised, probably since we were all reading pretty much at the same time as the discussion was taking place - so the discussion progressed with our reading. There was much text quoted in that discussion and analysis of the symbolism and the various devices and ideas that Lawrence used in the book. It is not a completely plot driven book, but one that relied on the various charaters and their intricate relationships to each other. It was a great discussion and I think it stayed on track throughout and did not get wishy-washy or aimless/directionless. Points were concentrated on and stated and debated, but the discussion went along smoothly addressing many aspects of the book and stayed on-track. It was a great month and a great discussion! We learned much about Lawrence and his work.

With short stories, I do find it beneficial to adhere (loosely, of course) to a sense of beginning progressing to climax to ending. This way we can see how the story builds up and how the author developed the story and the characters. We have this advantage of posting text, since we have an entire month or more to discuss the story. Really it is the same in this thread as Chekov - no set time limit, so don't feel any pressure. Post when you can. I think mostly we started off slow and aimless with 'Things' and then when we got to "Horse-Dealer's Daughter" and Virgil started to post large segments of the text and really got the ball rolling in this method of discussing the story. Also, he got me underlining 'key words' and this is especially helpful. I know when we did the 'Lawrence Tortoise Poems' this was beneficial, and Virgil instigated it. So, I really have to give the credit to Virgil - he taught me this great way of discussing...the engineering mind. Actually though artists think/function better in this frame work, also.

Well, I have gone on long enough with all of this. Hope I have not bored you and eveyone else to death. Glad to see you here and hope the coming discussion will be great. I will read the L story over the weekend and possibly the Chekov, also. I am busy today trying to get a new monitor hooked up to my computer, so may be offline tonight for awhile till I do. Plan is to clean/vacumn first - so dust does not get on my new pretty LCD screen. It is nice 19" - can't wait!:D

Pensive, perhaps you are right -- I might have gotten a little carried away and excessive with quoting. Actually, though most of the last month I had been in here by myself, so I just did it that way - easier for me. We can do whatever seems to come naturally. I know in 'Horse-Dealer's Daughter' Virgil did not quote every line. He will be joining this discussion so maybe he will do the same and kick off the discussion. If you think he or I or anyone missed an important point you can always go back and quote something prior to the last quote. How does that sound? We don't have to be strickly structured.


Can't wait until we get the discussion going.
Me, too!

[Quark]

first statements here sound like a compliment.

Compliment? No, I think I'm a little too self-centered to give those.


I am not (let me reiterate this fact) an organised person, well not entirely...I am always striving for it, but you should see my living quarters since I joined Lit Net! ugh. In fact, I am trying to address that unorganised mess right now today and this week.

I know how that gets. I'm lucky if I can keep my surfaces clean. Usually, when I get to the computer table there's still a pile of books and papers there, and I just swipe my arm across it to clear some space. Next to me there's a huge and growing mound of clutter that nearly touches the ceiling of books, clothes, appliances, and even an empty aquarium. I have no cleaning impulse, though. After I swipe the stuff off my computer table, I just pick up my mouse and keyboard and forget about the pile.



I have had emense problems discussing and posting in "To The Lighthouse"; I think because the discussion is so disjointed to me...I really feel lost. I feel it is random and I can't function in that random way of thought. There might be tons of pages but so much of the discussion to me seemed to go back and forth and not get anywhere - like in a circle. Also I have found in discussion of this nature they often just fade out quickly, but then maybe they would have anyway.

Some of the discussion has gone in a circle, but I don't think that's because of the structure of the thread. The problem we sometimes have over there is that we simply don't know each other yet. We use words in different ways and then can't understand each other--right now I think Virgil and I are bickering about the meaning of the term "heroic". Another problem is we form some idea, then realize that it's defective in some way and then are afraid to change our minds because it would make us look less than perspicacious. Also, some of the ideas in that book are difficult to respond to with short answers. It's a tough book with lots of subtleties. And, it's difficult to read; half of any discussion on a Virginia Woolf novel has to be a reconstruction of just what literally happened. Combined, the difficulty of the book and the anxiety associated with posting make the thread seem forbidding and difficult to engage in. So, in the end, the fact that we've had 276 posts in that discussion is pretty encouraging. It's especially impressive when you look at the fact that most of the activity on LitNet is focused on creative writing and vague, open-ended opinions. To actually sustain voluntary involvement in a focused literary topic and push towards reasonable conclusion is encouraging to say the least. That's not to belittle creative writing and sharing opinions in any way. Nor is this to antagonize those who haven't participated to the full extent in the To The Lighthouse thread (people like Janine, for example). I just wanted to defend, what I think, is the best part of LitNet. Could organization have made it better? Perhaps, I'm not the person to ask about that, though: think about how I clean my desk.




However, if you check out our recent discussion in "Women in Love" it was fairly organised and sequencial and organised, probably since we were all reading pretty much at the same time as the discussion was taking place - so the discussion progressed with our reading. There was much text quoted in that discussion and analysis of the symbolism and the various devices and ideas that Lawrence used in the book. It is not a completely plot driven book, but one that relied on the various charaters and their intricate relationships to each other. It was a great discussion and I think it stayed on track throughout and did not get wishy-washy or aimless/directionless. Points were concentrated on and stated and debated, but the discussion went along smoothly addressing many aspects of the book and stayed on-track. It was a great month and a great discussion! We learned much about Lawrence and his work.

No, I didn't see the "Women in Love" thread. That is to say, I saw it but didn't look into it. I was thinking about taking part in the talk but I turned coward when I went to buy the book. The version they had at Barnes and Noble was $15.00--a little much for a book printed 90 years ago. And, invariably the cashier is always a cute girl and I didn't want to go through the line with a book called "Women in Love"--something seemed a little unmanly about it. The problem was compounded by the fact that I was already buying a book of Auden poems. I didn't think my chances of appearing suave and masculine with both a gay poet and a novel called "Women in Love" was favorable, so I decided to cut the risk in half and only get one. Usually, in that situation, I try to compensate by getting some sports magazine or pornographic calender, but at that point I didn't have enough money to reaffirm my gender. Maybe if we do some Hemingway or Fitzgerald next time I won't have that problem (although, Tender is the Night sounds a little questionable).


With short stories, I do find it beneficial to adhere (loosely, of course) to a sense of beginning progressing to climax to ending. This way we can see how the story builds up and how the author developed the story and the characters. We have this advantage of posting text, since we have an entire month or more to discuss the story. Really it is the same in this thread as Chekov - no set time limit, so don't feel any pressure. Post when you can. I think mostly we started off slow and aimless with 'Things' and then when we got to "Horse-Dealer's Daughter" and Virgil started to post large segments of the text and really got the ball rolling in this method of discussing the story. Also, he got me underlining 'key words' and this is especially helpful. I know when we did the 'Lawrence Tortoise Poems' this was beneficial, and Virgil instigated it. So, I really have to give the credit to Virgil - he taught me this great way of discussing...the engineering mind. Actually though artists think/function better in this frame work, also.


No objections to that. I think I'll continue doing to the Chekhov thread in the same random way I've been going about it. The problem there isn't organization; it the fact that there's nothing to organize. We need some more participation before I'm really going to come up with a strategy. Right now, I just want to come up with some topic that people will find entertaining.

[Janine]

Compliment? No, I think I'm a little too self-centered to give those.

You are? --- well at least you admit it. Well, then I am just self-centered enough to withdrawal my 'thanks'!



I know how that gets. I'm lucky if I can keep my surfaces clean. Usually, when I get to the computer table there's still a pile of books and papers there, and I just swipe my arm across it to clear some space. Next to me there's a huge and growing mound of clutter that nearly touches the ceiling of books, clothes, appliances, and even an empty aquarium. I have no cleaning impulse, though. After I swipe the stuff off my computer table, I just pick up my mouse and keyboard and forget about the pile.

As you can see I am making wonderful progress. I am actually hating every minute of this cleaning/organising. I feel so much anxiety right now and like I am trapped in a big mess. How it got away from me like this is beyond me. I am making a snails progress so far. Just organising some stray books and things. Putting stuff where it should be. Of course, due to my growing restless anxiety, I just had to take a break and check the computer. That is why I am here. Still don't have the new monitor hooked up.:(



Some of the discussion has gone in a circle, but I don't think that's because of the structure of the thread. The problem we sometimes have over there is that we simply don't know each other yet. We use words in different ways and then can't understand each other--right now I think Virgil and I are bickering about the meaning of the term "heroic". Another problem is we form some idea, then realize that it's defective in some way and then are afraid to change our minds because it would make us look less than perspicacious. Also, some of the ideas in that book are difficult to respond to with short answers. It's a tough book with lots of subtleties. And, it's difficult to read; half of any discussion on a Virginia Woolf novel has to be a reconstruction of just what literally happened. Combined, the difficulty of the book and the anxiety associated with posting make the thread seem forbidding and difficult to engage in. So, in the end, the fact that we've had 276 posts in that discussion is pretty encouraging. It's especially impressive when you look at the fact that most of the activity on LitNet is focused on creative writing and vague, open-ended opinions. To actually sustain voluntary involvement in a focused literary topic and push towards reasonable conclusion is encouraging to say the least. That's not to belittle creative writing and sharing opinions in any way. Nor is this to antagonize those who haven't participated to the full extent in the To The Lighthouse thread (people like Janine, for example). I just wanted to defend, what I think, is the best part of LitNet. Could organization have made it better? Perhaps, I'm not the person to ask about that, though: think about how I clean my desk.

Probably I have not checked it enough or read all 200 plus posts. I just have not been with-it this month. It might just be me. Funny because several years back I read "To The Lighthouse" and was dying to discuss it with someone. Then I reread it for this discussion and I felt overwhelmed with the book even though I knew the story well by then. I knew the characters, too, so I don't know why I felt overwhelmed - maybe just being the month it is and other things distracted me. I did, however, notice that you and Virgil were arguing about Mrs. Ramsey and that 6 letter word - 'heroic' ...actually I was getting a little tired of that argument. I think you both should just accept that the other has another opinion of her. Is it really that important to understanding the story or the essense of the story? I actually probably do agree with you since somewhat (but then I am a bit confused by now on the whole idea and question). I do think 'heroic' is pushing it a little far with Mrs. R, but I don't think my good friend, V is going to change his opinion. Enough is enough - you guys should come out in the ring and shake hands!




No, I didn't see the "Women in Love" thread. That is to say, I saw it but didn't look into it. I was thinking about taking part in the talk but I turned coward when I went to buy the book. The version they had at Barnes and Noble was $15.00--a little much for a book printed 90 years ago. And, invariably the cashier is always a cute girl and I didn't want to go through the line with a book called "Women in Love"--something seemed a little unmanly about it. The problem was compounded by the fact that I was already buying a book of Auden poems. I didn't think my chances of appearing suave and masculine with both a gay poet and a novel called "Women in Love" was favorable, so I decided to cut the risk in half and only get one. Usually, in that situation, I try to compensate by getting some sports magazine or pornographic calender, but at that point I didn't have enough money to reaffirm my gender. Maybe if we do some Hemingway or Fitzgerald next time I won't have that problem (although, Tender is the Night sounds a little questionable).

:lol: You are hilarious! I hope at least you got a date with the cute girl or scored some points for later.;) Glad you were not buying any Oscar Wilde although women seem to like him greatly.
Oh, that is a shame. I got my copy of WIL from Amazon and paid $10. new - well there was shipping, but if you got more Amazon stuff to add up to $25, it was free shipping. I do that sometimes. Now the Cambridge addition is down to $8 something, I see. I had wanted that one actually, with the white cover, shows just the bodies (dressed) b/w of two women. I bought the earlier Cambridge addition, which probably is the same. If you still want to buy it, now might be the time to do so on Amazon. Forget B&N - I hardly buy anything there anymore - new books are too expensive from B&N. $15 is too dear for me, too!



No objections to that. I think I'll continue doing to the Chekhov thread in the same random way I've been going about it. The problem there isn't organization; it the fact that there's nothing to organize. We need some more participation before I'm really going to come up with a strategy. Right now, I just want to come up with some topic that people will find entertaining.


Sure - you have your style and I have mine. I am always accepting of everyone and how they go about it all, and their opinions especially, not to say we don't disagree on this thread from time to time also...that makes for a good lively stimulating conversation, in my opinion. I will probably post more quotes and talk about them in Chekhov and in here when we do the next story. Like in Chekhov, the end of the book or the part with the river - haven't gotten to that yet. No objections - right? Yes, we sure do need some participants....and woe is me...school is starting soon for many...so don't expect a rush to the Chekhov thread ....unless they are studying his work in college or HS.

[Janine]

Here is some commentary I scanned from my book by Michael Black - book is D.H.Lawrence The Early Fiction

This will finalize the story "The White Stocking"


As in 'The Prussian Officer' the violence is intensely seen, its strange sounds heard. Lawrence enters fully into it, as something which he wants to realise. There is no deprecation: this is what the man feels, what he wants, what he has it in him to do. But there is something else in him equally real, and more powerful: his sense of pity springing from his sense of responsibility for her:
But he had seen her standing there, a piteous, horrified thing, and he turned his face aside in shame and nausea. He went and sat heavily in his chair, and a curious ease, almost like sleep, came over his brain. (PO(C) 162)
When he has returned the jewels to Adams, there is a poignant reconciliation, made more sweet by the tears and the blood:
"I'm sleeping down here," he said. "Go you to bed."
In a few moments she lifted her tear-stained, swollen face and looked at him with eyes all forlorn and pathetic.A great flash of anguish went over his body. He went over, slowly, and very gently took her in his hands. She let herself be taken. Then as she lay against his shoulders, she sobbed aloud:
"I never meant -"
"My love - my little love -" he cried, in anguish of spirit, holding her in his arms. (PO(C) 164)
The psychological penetration in the story is very remarkable; especially the challenges offered by Elsie, Adams's greedy opportunism, Whiston's slow wrath. The whole recollected sequence of the party, and the climactic present day of reckoning, where the morning prompts the long flashback and the evening follows and clinches it - it is all brilliantly constructed and, as a succession of actions and states of consciousness, imagined as only genius can imagine. Yet it has a limitation. I would not want to offer the conventional criticism that it is a day-dream of masculine dominance, since the story seems to me to be truthful, and faithful to the nature of the imagined people. It also renders with grace and assurance a stream of notations well beyond the reach of other writers. And in any case, Elsie's dance more than half-hints that neither violence nor tenderness can finally quell the spirit in her: something is invoked and released which might be more powerful than Lawrence's ostensible moral, the position where he wants to end, that 'within his grasp, she could dart about excitingly', that 'he was the permanent basis from which she took these little flights into nowhere'. Whiston puts this something more coarsely when in his anger he calls her a 'stray-running little *****': there he betrays a fear which may be natural, well-founded and not merely angry. *****es run astray as part of nature:so the ending of the story may not be entirely an easy 'happy ever after'; rather a moment of reconciliation in a process which recur.
Yet though one can point to such implications, one must admit that the whole drive of the story is meant to confirm the moral: that Whiston's masculine strength can from now on cradle Elsie's feminine waywardness and charm, even if it has to offer a salutary violence at the right moments. A more important criticism might be that the sheer achievement of the story tells against if: brilliance is created by Lawrence's
complete knowledge of these people, whom he has created and who pose no challenge to that domination since they are not a mystery to him. He sees right through them and all round them; and while we are startled, touched, and impressed by all that he can see (more than we could see ourselves) it threatens to leave his characters finished, closed off, and known. 'New Eve and Old Adam' challenges that he can't see all around, so that he will have to embark on his major fictions in order to comprehend it.

I have one other part to scan but for now chew on this and digest what it says. It makes sense to me.

[Quark]

That criticism sounds very similar to what we've been saying. At least, the part about the limited scope of the narrative, and the fact that the ending isn't much of a conclusion. I came in late, so I don't know if we talked about the gender relations in the sense they're brought up here.

Sorry I haven't posted in couple of days. I left and wasn't able to secure my own computer--rare as it is, it does still happen in the 21st century that someone is without a cpu.

[Janine]

That criticism sounds very similar to what we've been saying. At least, the part about the limited scope of the narrative, and the fact that the ending isn't much of a conclusion. I came in late, so I don't know if we talked about the gender relations in the sense they're brought up here.

Sorry I haven't posted in couple of days. I left and wasn't able to secure my own computer--rare as it is, it does still happen in the 21st century that someone is without a cpu.

Yes, I agree, Quark, - the critic mostly repeats ideas we had hashed around, but now they seem to come into better focus in the way he presents these ideas, so I feel it helps clarify things a bit,; this is why I posted this commentary. It sort of recaps everything and brings it together coherently.
Yes, I did notice you departure, but thought you must have been enjoying the weekend or doing other things and taking a break. We all need that from time to time. Yes, not too long ago I had a similiar problem, being without my internet connection for a week. I had to go to my local library and use their computers, which was limited in time and convenience. It does happen sometimes in this century.

Well, onto the Chekhov thread... I see you posted there today also, and then after, I will check out 'Lighthouse'.

I will try and read the Chrysanthanmums story tonight before I go to sleep. Hopefully I will finish it up tonight and we can move onto this new discussion soon.

[Quark]

Alright, I've read the story. I actually thought it was much better than "White Stocking". This one is complex and filled with pathos--a lot of symbolism too. It should be a good discussion.

[Janine]

Alright, I've read the story. I actually thought it was much better than "White Stocking". This one is complex and filled with pathos--a lot of symbolism too. It should be a good discussion.

Hi Quark, you are one step ahead of me. I have not read it yet, but will try to tonight. I would think it was a very good story, since it is suppose to be one of Lawrence's most acclaimed. Now you have my curiousity and I will have to read it.

I have been busy cleaning and guess what? I have found things I lost ages ago. Funny how that happens.:lol: Artists sure do accumulate a lot of stuff. I still do not have my new monitor connected, too tired out now, but definitely will do so tomorrow. Desk is ready now - clean as a whistle! That is just one corner and more must be done in the rest of the room, bathroom and bedroom - there is hope now; I better take advantage when I am in this mood.;) Seemed slow on here tonight anyway...probably the holiday weekend.

I hope to post something tomorrow. I know the story will be great. :thumbs_up

Today (revision), Monday update:

Hi Quark and everyone, I read the new story last night and liked it very much. Much to think about in that story and I will probably comment later or maybe even tonight. I would like to re-read the story and mark some passages that particularly impressed me.

[Janine]

Sorry, everyone, I am having some computer difficulties (really some annoying things to iron out with my new monitor and settings, and also need to go buy a new mouse) and will be back soon to start this story off. If anyone else wants to start it, feel free. Just trying to get this thread back on the first page.

[Virgil]

I skimmed the story over the weekend. I need to re-read it before I feel comfortable discussing it. But I'm almost ready.

[Janine]

:eek2: Yes, Virgil - same with me. I read the Chekhov or actually reading it now - nearly done and I forget the Lawrence story so I will have to re-read it this weekend.
Hey, Virgil, you are an engineer with countless computer hightech devices. Any ideas on how I can fix the brightness setting on this monitor. I am having a horrible time with it. I keep squinting. The front of the monitor has 4 buttons - a 'e' auto button, < and > buttons and Menu button.... and there is a page of instructions only an engineer would understand on using this menu. I pushed the first one and got automatic settings but that seemed to do nothing. One of the menus (last button) pulls up a window with brightness and contrast bars, but there seems to be no way to move them or adjust them. Also, f I change the DPI on my computer, will that make my type the size as it was before hooking up this monitor - It shrunk some and is hard to see. Any ideas or suggestions I would greatly appreciate. Thanks! Janine
:eek2: :rage: :crash: computers!

[Virgil]

I'm afraid I'm completely computer illiterate, Janine. I assume there are buttons on the monitor that control that. I bet you've tried that. Is this a new monitor? Perhaps it's broken. Is there a number to call?

[Janine]

Hahah -- you mean, Virgil, that obscure phone number they hide in the instruction booklet or the disc? I have not found it yet. I did get instructions from the kid at Staples on the button controls on the front panel, but I don't know if it still needs a driver from online - that is a possibility to function completely correctly. It is not as blinding today. No sunglasses needed! My son could not figure it out either but he was here in a whirl so he did not try very hard.
TV is out of the box - since my son stopped by. It looks good - brandnew and untampered with. Inner box was perfect. He will come and hook up for me later, hopefully today.
Did you read the Lawrence story again yet? I have not read it --- plan to do so on the weekend. Best I can do and hopefully post something on Monday.

[Pensive]

Read Odour of the Chrysanthemum last night. Liked it very much. The story was emotional and striking. The part where Elizabeth's girl child asked her to smell the chrysanthemum but Lizzy said she no longer liked the smell, had a great effect on me. The emotions which arose in Elizabeth while seeing her husband's dead body were interesting, tinged with an unknown horror. I felt I had switched places with the protagonist (Elizabeth).

I like it when Lawrence's focuses over miners' houses.

[Janine]

Read Odour of the Chrysanthemum last night. Liked it very much. The story was emotional and striking. The part where Elizabeth's girl child asked her to smell the chrysanthemum but Lizzy said she no longer liked the smell, had a great effect on me. The emotions which arose in Elizabeth while seeing her husband's dead body were interesting, tinged with an unknown horror. I felt I had switched places with the protagonist (Elizabeth).

I like it when Lawrence's focuses over miners' houses.

Hi Pensive- so good to see you post. Glad you had read the story and liked it. I agree with all you said. I liked it very much too. Yes, I thought the same how Lawrence could make one feel the way that Elizabeth felt in such a situation. It was so well written and delved deeply below the surface of her emotional being. The part you mentioned with the smelling of the chysanthemuns seemed to me to be very significant.

I want to reread the story this weekend and then comment on Monday. I am so busy right now with some new electronics and hooking things up and making them run correctly.

Yes, this story relates well to Lawrence's own mother and father, although his father did not die, but he did have the serious accident in "Sons and Lovers", if you recall and his life was in danger daily, being a miner down in the pits. Mining stories were very personal to Lawrence.

[Pensive]

Hi Pensive- so good to see you post. Glad you had read the story and liked it. I agree with all you said. I liked it very much too. Yes, I thought the same how Lawrence could make one feel the way that Elizabeth felt in such a situation. It was so well written and delved deeply below the surface of her emotional being. The part you mentioned with the smelling of the chysanthemuns seemed to me to be very significant.

Yes, indeed. It gives a lot away about Elizabeth's thoughts/feelings for her husband.


I want to reread the story this weekend and then comment on Monday. I am so busy right now with some new electronics and hooking things up and making them run correctly.

Take your time. I can understand how it is like to be busy...


Yes, this story relates well to Lawrence's own mother and father, although his father did not die, but he did have the serious accident in "Sons and Lovers", if you recall and his life was in danger daily, being a miner down in the pits.

Yes, I remember that incident very well plus Elizabeth also seems to resemble her mother in many ways and Elizabeth's husband his father. You are right, I can see now how Lawrence might have had got the inspiration of this story from his real life.


Mining stories were very personal to Lawrence.

And interesting for his readers. :p I for some unknown reason like mining stories a lot. Have read a couple of novels about it based on the area of Yorkshire (I think the mines were all around this area, right?), those were really interesting. It's a pity I have forgotten their title names. Would have liked to recommend them to you.

[Janine]

Yes, indeed. It gives a lot away about Elizabeth's thoughts/feelings for her husband.



Hi Pensive, sorry for not answering sooner. I went out for the day and had to buy a new mouse while I was at it. This one is driving me silly. I sure hope the new optical one wireless is easy to install. I am sick of installation headaches this week.
Yes, I do agree whole-heartedly about Elizabeth. Lawrence really does well in a story with depth such as this one and how conflicted people are feeling in a situation like Elizabeth is experiencing, when they bring her dead husband home. It is an amazing scene, I think.


Take your time. I can understand how it is like to be busy...

Thanks for all your patience with me this week; you are so thoughful and sweet. I have so many distractions presently I can't keep my mind on these threads. I really appreciate you telling me to take my time and also appreciate that you read the story when you are busy yourself preparing for school.


Yes, I remember that incident very well plus Elizabeth also seems to resemble her mother in many ways and Elizabeth's husband his father. You are right, I can see now how Lawrence might have had got the inspiration of this story from his real life.

I knew you would be able to relate it to "S & L's" right away. I think it is very reminiscent of his parents and how they felt about each other - also conflicted. I read something short in one of my commentary books that suggested they were the models for this story. When I get settled a bit I will scan it to post. It is quite interesting and insightful. Also, if you noticed the mother of the husband she is very characteristic of the Lawrence's faternal grandmother. I thought he depicted her well in the story. I think for a time they lived with her. Did they do so in the novel? I can't remember that now and need that re-reading desperately, planned for the fall, sometime soon.



And interesting for his readers. :p I for some unknown reason like mining stories a lot. Have read a couple of novels about it based on the area of Yorkshire (I think the mines were all around this area, right?), those were really interesting. It's a pity I have forgotten their title names. Would have liked to recommend them to you.

I like them, too. You should eventually read "Women in Love". The mining plays a big role in that story, as well, being the profession of the management of the mines by the Crich family - father and son, Gerald - Gerald is one of the main characters.
I like films about mining families and what they go through daily living with such danger.

Pensive - thought you would like these photos -- these in the area where Lawrence lived and wrote about - first is Brinsley Colliery and second is Brinsley Colliery Headstocks.
http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/BrinsleyColliery-1.jpg

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/RestoredBrinsleyCollieryHeadstocks.jpg

[Pensive]

Hi Pensive, sorry for not answering sooner. I went out for the day and had to buy a new mouse while I was at it. This one is driving me silly. I sure hope the new optical one wireless is easy to install. I am sick of installation headaches this week.

I really hope your trouble with mouse would be over soon. Mine is also quite problematic but I had to open it and clean its inner side to make it better.


Yes, I do agree whole-heartedly about Elizabeth. Lawrence really does well in a story with depth such as this one and how conflicted people are feeling in a situation like Elizabeth is experiencing, when they bring her dead husband home. It is an amazing scene, I think.

Yes, it was sad but effective.


Thanks for all your patience with me this week; you are so thoughful and sweet. I have so many distractions presently I can't keep my mind on these threads. I really appreciate you telling me to take my time and also appreciate that you read the story when you are busy yourself preparing for school.

Oh no problem. I am actually sorry myself, busy with some ill health and school too so I hope you don't mind if I am a bit late. :(


I knew you would be able to relate it to "S & L's" right away. I think it is very reminiscent of his parents and how they felt about each other - also conflicted. I read something short in one of my commentary books that suggested they were the models for this story. When I get settled a bit I will scan it to post. It is quite interesting and insightful. Also, if you noticed the mother of the husband she is very characteristic of the Lawrence's faternal grandmother. I thought he depicted her well in the story. I think for a time they lived with her. Did they do so in the novel? I can't remember that now and need that re-reading desperately, planned for the fall, sometime soon.


You are right. Elizabeth especially resembles Lawrence's mother a lot. (from Sons and Lovers) I don't think the children ever lived with their grandmother in the book but maybe my memory is deceiving me (though I really hope it's not)!


I like them, too. You should eventually read "Women in Love". The mining plays a big role in that story, as well, being the profession of the management of the mines by the Crich family - father and son, Gerald - Gerald is one of the main characters.
I like films about mining families and what they go through daily living with such danger.

I, for sometime, followed its discussion on Forum Book Club and it really seemed interesting to me. Thanks for the recommendation. I would try it out if I ever get my hands on it... That's another book added into my reading list and I have already got so many! Had planned to read them in summer but couldn't (yes, a but). Ah poor us, how much we plan and how often those plans fail...


Pensive - thought you would like these photos -- these in the area where Lawrence lived and wrote about - first is Brinsley Colliery and second is Brinsley Colliery Headstocks.
http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/BrinsleyColliery-1.jpg

http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p70/sealace/RestoredBrinsleyCollieryHeadstocks.jpg

Thanks for posting the pictures, Janine. :) Your posts are informative.

[Janine]

I really hope your trouble with mouse would be over soon. Mine is also quite problematic but I had to open it and clean its inner side to make it better.

I took mine appart finally and cleaned it and it still sticks, so I went out and did buy a new Logitech cordless optical mouse - never needs cleaning or so they say. It is still in the bubble packaging and not plugged in yet. I am going to get to it today...hopefully. I had wondered if my son would appear with a few spare mouse(s?, mice? micekins?) he no longer needed - he said he had some. Had he had a nice optical one I would have returned this one but looks like now I will be keeping it. I could not deal with another electronic woe this week. I only got the right TV cables hooked up yesterday and then my son went off to work and to his house and he said the DVD remote setting are all messed up. He is going away for a few weeks so I have to adjust the TV itself....oh woe - headaches --- see what I mean?




Yes, it was sad but effective.Absolutely...glad we agree.




Oh no problem. I am actually sorry myself, busy with some ill health and school too so I hope you don't mind if I am a bit late. :(

Oh sweet understanding, Pensy, thanks so much for being so patient with me. I am sorry about ill health - hope it is nothing serious. I knew school must be starting soon and that will have to be your first concern as well. Maybe we should just get this story going in October and not worry now with it. Take your time to come back to it. I have to read it again anyway and I don't think Virgil read it yet either and he wanted to participate. Also he found 3 new Lawrence enthusiasts and I will attempt to recruit them for the discussion (I will tell them the story starts in October - what do you think of that idea?)



You are right. Elizabeth especially resembles Lawrence's mother a lot. (from Sons and Lovers) I don't think the children ever lived with their grandmother in the book but maybe my memory is deceiving me (though I really hope it's not)!

So funny, I recently saw the film version and the mother seemed to live a time with the family. That might be all wrong but the characterization of her seemed accurate. I also read things about Lawrence's real grandfather and grandmother on the mother's side and also the father's side and so it seemed like the woman mentioned - the dead man's mother - was fashioned after Lawrence's real grandmother. I, too, do not recall it being so in the book with her living with the family, but several of us on Lit Net plan on reading/discussing it soon so I will re-read and find out - right? Will you enter into that discussion of "Sons and Lovers"? It should be a good one and you will be ahead since you read it recently enough.


I, for sometime, followed its discussion on Forum Book Club and it really seemed interesting to me. Thanks for the recommendation. I would try it out if I ever get my hands on it... That's another book added into my reading list and I have already got so many! Had planned to read them in summer but couldn't (yes, a but). Ah poor us, how much we plan and how often those plans fail...

The one on here or another forum? The one on here was quite intense and involved --- I of course loved it!:thumbs_up everyone!


Thanks for posting the pictures, Janine. :) Your posts are informative.

Well, you are welcome. I have so many books on L now I love sharing them with you and others. I love the photos. Seems several of my books have ones I don't find online and some online are new to me also. I love digging up Lawrence photos and related articles. I suppose now it is a life pursuit with me. Someday I may qualify as a Lawrence scholar - who knows.

[grace86]

Oh gosh Janine I've completely forgotten about the story! Hmm...seems like work today will be rather slow, hopefully I can pick it up today or sometime soon. The story is for all of september right?

Counfounded stupid busy schedule....grrrrr....need to get my reading done before school!!!! arrgggh. :flare:

[Janine]

Oh gosh Janine I've completely forgotten about the story! Hmm...seems like work today will be rather slow, hopefully I can pick it up today or sometime soon. The story is for all of september right?

Counfounded stupid busy schedule....grrrrr....need to get my reading done before school!!!! arrgggh. :flare:

Grace, now I am thinking we should just make it for next month - this month is flying by. What do you think of this idea? I was waiting to hear from Pensy to see what she thought. Same story though. Go ahead and read the story and then you will be one step ahead, if we delay it a bit. I don't think Virgil read it yet either. He had wanted to participate and so did Quark. We all seemed to get so busy this month.

[Virgil]

I agree. This month is bad for me. I'm hoping on October being better.

[Quark]

I have no problem with waiting a few weeks to discuss the story. It might be better if we delay until everyone has read it and gathered their thoughts. Hopefully, during the pause we could pick up a few more Lawrence fans, too.

[Janine]

I have no problem with waiting a few weeks to discuss the story. It might be better if we delay until everyone has read it and gathered their thoughts. Hopefully, during the pause we could pick up a few more Lawrence fans, too.

Hi Quark, definitely we hope to do so. Several people posted in a thread saying how much they enjoyed Lawrence's style and writing. I will email them directly, as you did in for the Chekhov thread, and try and get them to join in with the short story and maybe "Sons and Lovers" when we read that.

Glad you agree to delay would be the best policy here. I have also had some health issues recently, which I am looking into; saw my doctor yesterday infact and will have some tests soon...no big deal.

Also, Quark, I am sorry I have not been so active in the Chekhov thread as I hoped to be. I hope if I get these health problems resolved, I can be more active.

Virgil, glad you agree, too. I know you have been super busy and now need the time to go see your mother as she is recovering. You can't be worrying about this thread this month. This thread can sit a few weeks.

[Quark]

I have also had some health issues recently, which I am looking into; saw my doctor yesterday infact and will have some tests soon

Health issues? That sounds scary.

[Janine]

Health issues? That sounds scary.

Well, not as scary as a pain...literally. I do have some chronic ailments and IBS, but that has gotten way worse lately, so I am having things checked out more closely. I just could not keep my concentration for now on Lit Net. I am hoping these tests reveal something that can be easily treated. Don't worry. I seem to be a person who develops chronic annoying, not terminal condtions and many are hereditary, unfortunately - darn those genes! I have survived a lot in the past years and I will survive this too.

So if we could delay this thread till October it would be much better for me. Thanks for understanding everyone....J

[grace86]

Yeah I could wait until October...hopefully then...I've managed to enroll in a Shakespeare's Tragedies lit class this quarter, I have no clue how that is going to be. But I am all up for October. I can read the story at a longer pace.

Janine are you guys planning on reading Sons and Lovers? When...what about book club? Oh and Virgil I've also not finished Don Quixote :( . Guess we're all pretty busy.

Janine I hope your tests go okay and Virgil my prayers are with you and your family.

[Pensive]

Sure, if everyone else wants to read it in October, I can wait. :) Nice to hear Virgil has found some other people interested in Lawrence's works too.

[Janine]

Yeah I could wait until October...hopefully then...I've managed to enroll in a Shakespeare's Tragedies lit class this quarter, I have no clue how that is going to be. But I am all up for October. I can read the story at a longer pace.

Janine are you guys planning on reading Sons and Lovers? When...what about book club? Oh and Virgil I've also not finished Don Quixote :( . Guess we're all pretty busy.

Janine I hope your tests go okay and Virgil my prayers are with you and your family.

Grace, thanks for waiting, then. We can all take a breather. Your classes will start soon and I know you will be plenty busy. Same with Pensive. I don't know how you girls do it all. I guess you have that 'young energy'.

Yes, Virgil has my prayers too, for him and his family. I have told him so already in his blog and PM's. He said he probably would not be online for 4 days or so. We will miss him greatly. Hope his 10 hr drive went well and safely.

Grace, I have been thinking that - you and Virgil did not finish DQ - would be a shame not to. Virgil said he stopped at one book and there are two. I guess that would be ok, but don't delay too long, or you might forget what was in book #1. At least I would.
Yes, don't you recall us just saying back aways that we would all read "Sons and Lovers" in the fall. Quark said he was interested, too and some others, as well. Virgil said I have to be the recruiter of the Lawrence enthusiastists. I have more L books now, than him...:lol:;) Realistically, not sure we can do both novels before the new year - "Sons and Lovers" and then "Lady Chatterly's Lover". In my opinion we should just play it by ear and see how the first novel goes. No, it is not the official book read. I think they only do one author a year and WIL was for Lawrence this year. We would be doing S & L's strickly on our own, by making up a thread.

Hey, Grace, Wonderful getting the class! Shakespeare tragedies are practically my favorite thing! well....except maybe for L books, but maybe... actually... they are running parallel....they are quite different enough...like a different genre. I have seen the film version of "Hamlet" and several other versions and listened to the audio tapes dozens and dozens of times. I can nearly quote lines now - something I am not particularly good at doing usually. I love the tragedies the best and some of the histories as well, since they border on tragedies. I adore the film and the play - "Henry V" and I don't even like war particularly or the concept of it, but it is still amazing and so intense and profound. My favorite scene is in the camp at night when Henry (King Hal)recites his long solioquy about the responsibility and the weight (burden) of being a king. I nearly weep at that scene everytime. Kenneth Branagh's film is amazing and when he lowers his head and one single tear rolls down his left cheek, I feel so touched by that, I can hardly bear it. It is perfect.
"Richard III" is bordering on tragedy and it is such a complex and fascinating play. Bye the way, the film "Finding Richard" by Al Pacino is so interesting and funny, too! He walks through Manhattan asking people about Shakespeare and what they think of his works. Some answers are pretty hilarious. Then they do exerpts of the play - Pacino actually plays a pretty good and convincing Richard. I was amazed. I own only the tape - very hard to get. It is a play with much conniving and treachery much like Othello, Richard being like Iago in his covert actions and sinister plans. Great stuff!

Ok, back to the true tragedies - believe it or not last night I was watching "Othello" - one of the tragedies...one of my favorites! I love that film by Parker. I have watched it countless times, but this time I was seeing it on my new LCD HD TV and it is phenonmenal color and clarity. I was in seventh heaven. I have the soundtrack too which is so neat. I play it all the time.
I also, like others of the tradedies. Guess I am just a tragic type reader.;)
I had a Shakespeare class in college many many moons ago. Wow, Grace, I wish I could fly out and go to your class with you. I loved that class!

Pensive, so glad you are in agreement to about delaying till October. You are so sweet and understanding. I want to re-read the story before then, anyway. I think that two readings always benefits me in discussing the story. I seem to pick up on things I had previously skipped over or not noticed just how significant they could be.

We can always, just loosely (randomly), visit this thread until we officially start the discussion.

[Janine]

OK, Gang - listen up! I am back now thinking about the short story and also about starting the thread for the book read and discussion of "Sons and Lovers". I will try doing that today to begin this month and most likely that will extend into next month, too. For now though I want to resume this short story as soon as we possibly can. If you can participate - great! I know some of you are busy now with school work so I will understand if you have to skip this one. I read the story once but now will review it in more depth and begin - hopefully I will post something tonight or tomorrow to get things rolling.

Odour of Chrysanthamums


Happy reading!.....your leader....hahaha!;) :lol:

[Virgil]

OK, Gang - listen up! I am back now thinking about the short story and also about starting the thread for the book read and discussion of "Sons and Lovers". I will try doing that today to begin this month and most likely that will extend into next month, too. For now though I want to resume this short story as soon as we possibly can. If you can participate - great! I know some of you are busy now with school work so I will understand if you have to skip this one. I read the story once but now will review it in more depth and begin - hopefully I will post something tonight or tomorrow to get things rolling.

Odour of Chrysanthamums


Happy reading!.....your leader....hahaha!;) :lol:

*Salutes* Yes Ma'am. ;) I'll read it over the weekend.

[Janine]

Virgil, I have been emailing everyone about the "Sons and Lovers" thread and this thread as well. I emailed those in "book you are recently reading" thread (think that is the title) and we may get some new recruits. This coming month should be hopping! Weekend reading of 'O of C' should be great - we can start discussing on Monday. Thanks for pointing out to me the new L enthusiasts!:thumbs_up

[Janine]

I found this commentary today in one of my numerous Lawrence books. It is from the book entitled: The Early Fiction of D.H.Lawrence by Michael Black


TWO EARLY STORIES

Many of Lawrence’s early stories are centered on the Nottinghamshire mining districts of his childhood, but the best of them – notably Odour of Chrysanthemums and Daughter of the Vica –are much more than sketches of working-class life or mere surplus material from Sons and Lovers. Odour of Chrysanthemums in par&#172;ticular must rate as a masterpiece, and it is astonishing that Lawrence should have had the skill even at this time (the story may have been written as early as 1908, and was published in 19II) to write stories such as this, for the style and technique of the two early full-length novels contemporary with it are much less masterly. There is a well-known story, but one which bears repeating, of Ford Madox Ford's acceptance of the tale for publication in the English Review in 19II. Ford read only the first paragraph of Odour of Chrysanthamums, then immediately accepted it for publication:
You are ... for as long as the story lasts, to be in one of those untidy, unfinished landscapes where locomotives wander innocuously amongst women with baskets. That is to say, you are going to learn how what we used to call 'the other half'-though we might as well have said the other ninety-nine hundredths-lives. And if you are an editor and that is what you are after, you know that you have got what you want and you can pitch the story straight away into your wicker tray with the few accepted manuscripts and go on to some other occupation ... Because this man knows. He knows how to open a story with a sentence of the right cadence for holding the attention. He knows how to construct a paragraph. He knows the life he is writing about in a landscape just sufficiently constructed with a casual word here and there. You can trust him for the rest.
THE BODLEY HEAD FORD MADOX FORD, Vol. 1. p. 323

One drawback to this anecdote is that its widespread currency has tended to focus the reader's admiration on to the opening paragraph rather than on to the tale as a whole. What is needed also is to emphasise the fact that the usual Lawrentian contrast between nature and industry is well made in the opening section of the story, for it is the unpleasant atmosphere of the tainted world of nature which is most remarkably evoked. 'The fields were dreary and forsaken', and both the countryside and the mining cottage are spoilt by the onrush of industry:

"A large bony vine clutched at the house, as if to claw down the tiled roof. Round the brick yard grew a few wintry primroses.
Beyond, the long garden sloped down to a bush-covered brook course. There were some twiggy apple trees, winter-crack trees, chrysanthemums, like pink cloths hung on bushes."

THE COMPLETE SHORT STORIES, Vol. II, pp. 283-4

There is much more to this commentary and I will post it periodically, as we go along in our discussion, when it applies to that part of the story.

[Janine]

Some initial impressions:


The small locomotive engine, Number 4, came clanking, stumbling down from Selston--with seven full waggons. It appeared round the corner with loud threats of speed, but the colt that it startled from among the gorse, which still flickered indistinctly in the raw afternoon, outdistanced it at a canter. A woman, walking up the railway line to Underwood, drew back into the hedge, held her basket aside, and watched the footplate of the engine advancing. The trucks thumped heavily past, one by one, with slow inevitable movement, as she stood insignificantly trapped between the jolting black waggons and the hedge; then they curved away towards the coppice where the withered oak leaves dropped noiselessly, while the birds, pulling at the scarlet hips beside the track, made off into the dusk that had already crept into the spinney. In the open, the smoke from the engine sank and cleaved to the rough grass. The fields were dreary and forsaken, and in the marshy strip that led to the whimsey, a reedy pit-pond, the fowls had already abandoned their run among the alders, to roost in the tarred fowl-house. The pit-bank loomed up beyond the pond, flames like red sores licking its ashy sides, in the afternoon's stagnant light. Just beyond rose the tapering chimneys and the clumsy black head-stocks of Brinsley Colliery. The two wheels were spinning fast up against the sky, and the winding-engine rapped out its little spasms. The miners were being turned up.

Once again Lawrence has presented his story with opening lines that paint a definite atmosphere of the encroaching invasion of the coal industry in the area in which he lived, a theme that would resurface time and time again in his work. This “dreary and forsaken” area of fields and “the pit-pond that fowls had already abandoned”, along with the fact that the pit “loomed up beyond the pond, flames like red sores licking it’s ashy sides, in the afternoon’s stagnant light” add scope to this dismal. yet curiously fascinating, opening paragraph. This definitely sets the tone of the story to follow. A few pages earlier in this thread I posted some photos of the colliery and the mine area.
Also, of interest in this paragraph, is the mention of the colt: “It appeared round the corner with loud threats of speed, but the colt that it startled from among the gorse, which still flickered indistinctly in the raw afternoon, outdistanced it at a canter.” Is Lawrence looking at progress but seeing the old world outdistancing technology? The horse reminded me of the later horse scene in “Women in Love”, when actually the Arabian horse, is so frightened of the train and Gerald forces the mare to stay close to the tracks. Both are quite different in concept, but interesting to note that a horse is used in both stories in conjuncition with the train, and contrast nature and the man-made devices for travel.
The woman is also drawn back into the hedge…”trapped between the jolting black wagons and the hedge” – a start contrast of nature and the threatening noisy engine and train, that will soon take over the countryside and the natural beauty of the area.

[Virgil]

This “dreary and forsaken” area of fields and “the pit-pond that fowls had already abandoned”, along with the fact that the pit “loomed up beyond the pond, flames like red sores licking it’s ashy sides, in the afternoon’s stagnant light” add scope to this dismal. yet curiously fascinating, opening paragraph. This definitely sets the tone of the story to follow. A few pages earlier in this thread I posted some photos of the colliery and the mine area.


Interesting about the flames. Burning seems to be a motif through the story. Notice how man times it comes up. Later in part I:


The kitchen was small and full of firelight; red coals piled glowing up the chimney mouth. All the life of the room seemed in the white, warm hearth and the steel fender reflecting the red fire.


Indoors the fire was sinking and the room was dark red.


She went out. As she dropped piece after piece of coal on the red fire, the shadows fell on the walls, till the room was almost in total darkness.


"Goodness me!" exclaimed the woman, relieved. "One would think the house was afire." She replaced the glass and waited a moment before turning up the wick. A pale shadow was seen floating vaguely on the floor.

[Janine]

Interesting about the flames. Burning seems to be a motif through the story. Notice how man times it comes up. Later in part I:

Virgil, hummm, that is interesting. I had not thought of it in that way; these various images seem to have a connection, at least in the mind of the author. I wonder if it could be the beginning of Lawrence's thinking on rebirth of the Phoenix and a hint of death and the afterlife that rises from the ashes. I might be way off but thought it was an interesting thought. Maybe it is just unconscious in L's mind at this time;) :lol: Also, wouldn't the flames be reminescent of the mines and the coal burning? I recall distinctly reading in "Sea and Sardina" a passage about Lawrence and Frieda sitting and gazing into a big open fireplace at one stop on their journeys. The flames were described quite specifically and seemed to take on great significance for Lawrence. The whole scene took up several pages and L made it very interesting to read.

[quasimodo1]

To Janine: I'm not trying to interlope into this discussionn; not familiar with the work at all. But I was almost at the end of the other Lawrence (the Letters of T.E.Lawrence) and he and George Bernard Shaw were discussing who did first lines of novels and stories the best. D.H.L. was one of thier top choices. quasi

[Janine]

To Janine: I'm not trying to interlope into this discussionn; not familiar with the work at all. But I was almost at the end of the other Lawrence (the Letters of T.E.Lawrence) and he and George Bernard Shaw were discussing who did first lines of novels and stories the best. D.H.L. was one of thier top choices. quasi

Hi Quasi, Yeah! I would have to agree whole-heartedly with that! Pretty brilliant opening to this short story, don't you think?

[Janine]

Quasi, I think of Shakespeare's first line from Richard III: "It was the winter of our discontent....."
This would have to be one of the greatest in history...but then again, that is a play, not a novel or short story.

Sorry getting off the beaten track of the 'Chrysanthamum' story. Am I the only one discussing the short story? Where is everybody?
Does anyone have any additional thoughts on Virgil's post about the use of images of fire or flames, etc. I also noticed the mention of these images in the second chapter of "Sons and Lovers", in which I re-thought their significance, now that Virgil has pointed them out in this story. I know many of you are reading both, so thought I would mention it here.
Another thought I had was that later Lawrence was concerned with his 'blood philosophy' and fire is the color of blood and also the firely sunsets, he often mentions, remind me of blood. Could there be a connection, even subconsiously in Lawrence's mind?

[Virgil]

Actually let me flesh out that observation. Throughout part I I see two motifs running, the motif of the fire and the motif of the Chrysanthamums. First the fire. I pointed out several occurances. Let me highlight the ones that are most suggestive:


The kitchen was small and full of firelight; red coals piled glowing up the chimney mouth. All the life of the room seemed in the white, warm hearth and the steel fender reflecting the red fire.
and

Indoors the fire was sinking and the room was dark red. The woman put her saucepan on the hob, and set a batter pudding near the mouth of the oven.
and

They sat down to tea. John, at the end of the table near the door, was almost lost in the darkness. Their faces were hidden from each other. The girl crouched against the fender slowly moving a thick piece of bread before the fire. The lad, his face a dusky mark on the shadow, sat watching her who was transfigured in the red glow.

"I do think it's beautiful to look in the fire," said the child.

"Do you?" said her mother. "Why?"

"It's so red, and full of little caves--and it feels so nice, and you can fair smell it."

"It'll want mending directly," replied her mother, "and then if your father comes he'll carry on and say there never is a fire when a man comes home sweating from the pit.--A public-house is always warm enough."

There was silence till the boy said complainingly: "Make haste, our Annie."

"Well, I am doing! I can't make the fire do it no faster, can I?"

"She keeps wafflin' it about so's to make 'er slow," grumbled the boy.

"Don't have such an evil imagination, child," replied the mother.

A number of things here. The fire is associated with domesticity, the kitchen, the hearth, sitting around the table, mother and children waiting for father. Second it provides nourshment, tea and bread are warmed by it. Nourishment is the heart of family, and they are "transfigured" by it. Now this is an early Lawrence story, so the word "transfigure" (as you can see it comes up repeatedly in Lawrence's works) does not yet carry the same religious weight that occurs in the later Lawrence stories. Nonetheless it shows the power of the hearth fire. Third, the fire is symbolic for life. From the very first quote I presented here: "All the life of the room seemed in the white, warm hearth and the steel fender reflecting the red fire." The fire is what holds life together and is also symbolic for life burning on. As those who have completed the story know, the fire of the father's life has run out. Something else too. The mother is outraged at what she perceives as her husband whittling his time away at a bar drinking:

Soon the room was busy in the darkness with the crisp sound of crunching. The mother ate very little. She drank her tea determinedly, and sat thinking. When she rose her anger was evident in the stern unbending of her head. She looked at the pudding in the fender, and broke out:

"It is a scandalous thing as a man can't even come home to his dinner! If it's crozzled up to a cinder I don't see why I should care. Past his very door he goes to get to a public-house, and here I sit with his dinner waiting for him--"
This is a domestic crisis, the husband coming home drunk and wasting his money away in drink. But the irony that runs through here is that it will be an even greater domestic crisis than is at first perceived. A dead husband is one who cannot take care of the family. The fire in the hearth does not burn from fire wood, but from coals. As a miner, the father brings home coals to provide nourishment to the family. Some of you have commented on the ugly industrialism versus nature element in the story. I personally don't feel that this is the theme of the story. This story to me is a story of realism, of work and family and death. The description of the mining town isn't tinged with moral imperative, but as a realistic setting to the story.

Now to the Chrysanthamums.


Beside the path hung dishevelled pink chrysanthemums, like pink cloths hung on bushes. A woman came stooping out of the felt-covered fowl-house, half-way down the garden. She closed and padlocked the door, then drew herself erect, having brushed some bits from her white apron.and

As they went slowly towards the house he tore at the ragged wisps of chrysanthemums and dropped the petals in handfuls along the path.

"Don't do that--it does look nasty," said his mother. He refrained, and she, suddenly pitiful, broke off a twig with three or four wan flowers and held them against her face. When mother and son reached the yard her hand hesitated, and instead of laying the flower aside, she pushed it in her apron-band. The mother and son stood at the foot of the three steps looking across the bay of lines at the passing home of the miners. The trundle of the small train was imminent. Suddenly the engine loomed past the house and came to a stop opposite the gate.and

Nevertheless she took a paper spill from a sheaf on the mantelpiece and proceeded to light the lamp that hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room. As she reached up, her figure displayed itself just rounding with maternity.

"Oh, mother--!" exclaimed the girl.

"What?" said the woman, suspended in the act of putting the lamp glass over the flame. The copper reflector shone handsomely on her, as she stood with uplifted arm, turning to face her daughter.

"You've got a flower in your apron!" said the child, in a little rapture at this unusual event.

"Goodness me!" exclaimed the woman, relieved. "One would think the house was afire." She replaced the glass and waited a moment before turning up the wick. A pale shadow was seen floating vaguely on the floor.

"Let me smell!" said the child, still rapturously, coming forward and putting her face to her mother's waist.

"Go along, silly!" said the mother, turning up the lamp. The light revealed their suspense so that the woman felt it almost unbearable. Annie was still bending at her waist. Irritably, the mother took the flowers out from her apron-band.

"Oh, mother--don't take them out!" Annie cried, catching her hand and trying to replace the sprig.

"Such nonsense!" said the mother, turning away. The child put the pale chrysanthemums to her lips, murmuring:

"Don't they smell beautiful!"

Her mother gave a short laugh.

"No," she said, "not to me. It was chrysanthemums when I married him, and chrysanthemums when you were born, and the first time they ever brought him home drunk, he'd got brown chrysanthemums in his button-hole."
Chrysanthemums are a flower that blossom in the fall and are associated with death. We put mums in front of tombstones in the fall. The bright Mum flower will foreshadow the bright dead body of the father when it is brought home. The breaking of the flowers into petals accentuates the death association. Interesting how the mother exclaims, "One would think the house was afire," when the daughter spots a broken flower in her apron. But more importantly is this statement by the mother:

"It was chrysanthemums when I married him, and chrysanthemums when you were born, and the first time they ever brought him home drunk, he'd got brown chrysanthemums in his button-hole."
And we ironically can finish that statement with "it was chrysanthemums when he died." Something that confuses me, though. I have planted Chysanthemums and every time I do or come across them, I sniff them only to find they have no odor or scent of any kind. I always think of this story when I do. Am I wrong in assuming that Mums don't have a scent or is it just the ones here in New York? Do Mums in England have any scent?

Nonetheless we see the two symbols interweaved in part I.

[Pensive]

Interesting point, Virgil. The short story seems to be having something to do with fire. A silly thought it might be, but can't the fire be taken as a symbol for life? Warmth has been mostly associated with the possibility of life.


"I do think it's beautiful to look in the fire," said the child.

Child is viewing life optimistically.


"Do you?" said her mother. "Why?"

Mother doesn't seem to be happy with her life.


"It's so red, and full of little caves--and it feels so nice, and you can fair smell it."

Again, a positive idea of fire/life.


"It'll want mending directly," replied her mother, "and then if your father comes he'll carry on and say there never is a fire when a man comes home sweating from the pit.--A public-house is always warm enough."

The father doesn't find life in house really 'worth' or doesn't really call it 'living' and 'life' (fire) exists from there in the pub?

Again, my idea might be a bit silly but can't help expressing it.



This story to me is a story of realism, of work and family and death. The description of the mining town isn't tinged with moral imperative, but as a realistic setting to the story.

Yes, looks the same to me.

[Virgil]

Interesting point, Virgil. The short story seems to be having something to do with fire. A silly thought it might be, but can't the fire be taken as a symbol for life? Warmth has been mostly associated with the possibility of life.


Yes, Pensy. I thought I said that in my post. Perhaps I was not clear.

[Pensive]

Yes, Pensy. I thought I said that in my post. Perhaps I was not clear.

Read the posts in a bit of hurry (there was so much to catch up with), am afraid I missed your third point which I have just seen now. :blush: Am glad you bring it up too and what-I-thought-was-my-idea doesn't seem to be that silly now when there are people sharing the same views. Or else would all of us be silly and company is a great comfort. :p

[Virgil]

Read the posts in a bit of hurry (there was so much to catch up with), am afraid I missed your third point which I have just seen now. :blush: Am glad you bring it up too and what-I-thought-was-my-idea doesn't seem to be that silly now when there are people sharing the same views. Or else would all of us be silly and company is a great comfort. :p

That's ok Pensy. I think we're on to something.

[Janine]

Actually let me flesh out that observation. Throughout part I I see two motifs running, the motif of the fire and the motif of the Chrysanthamums. First the fire. I pointed out several occurances.
First off, I think your post is excellent and covers a lot of ground here. You are right in correcting me and pointing out the good/positive/nourishing associations with the pit and this mining way of life. Yes, the fire seems to take on various reflections of how the family feels - Pensive has now mentioned this thought and I agree with both of you - and it is the 'nourishment, tea and bread that are warmed by the hearth'. Life, then, did revolve greatly around the kitchen table and especially the hearth. In some ways it was the center or heart of the family and it's flames were as the beating of that life giving fire. Interesting now to think of this fire in many contexts since I have been reading "The Plumed Serpent" and earlier on I read something in a biography or a critical review book about Lawrence's fascination with the red paint that the Indians used on their skin during their dances. This was just mentioned in the book and I recall that it had connections to fire and to the sun and that Lawrence felt life came from the sun and the heavens. I realise that back when O of C was written and S & L, as well he had not totally explored this idea but it is quite curious to see it so early one crop up in his writing and be a prominent image throughout. I think this is what fascinated me about studying Lawrence and his work. It is wonderous to see the development of such a genius mind and his sensitivity to these aspects of everyday life. They take on new and varied meanings.

A number of things here. The fire is associated with domesticity, the kitchen, the hearth, sitting around the table, mother and children waiting for father. Second it provides nourshment, tea and bread are warmed by it. Nourishment is the heart of family, and they are "transfigured" by it. Now this is an early Lawrence story, so the word "transfigure" (as you can see it comes up repeatedly in Lawrence's works) does not yet carry the same religious weight that occurs in the later Lawrence stories. Nonetheless it shows the power of the hearth fire. Third, the fire is symbolic for life. From the very first quote I presented here: "All the life of the room seemed in the white, warm hearth and the steel fender reflecting the red fire." The fire is what holds life together and is also symbolic for life burning on. As those who have completed the story know, the fire of the father's life has run out. Something else too. The mother is outraged at what she perceives as her husband whittling his time away at a bar drinking:
Yes, the word 'transfigure' appears to come up even in this early writing. It is new to Lawrence but it will take on it's full significance in later work - very true. Yes, the hearthfire does have 'power' - also a word or theme that will recur in later writings and be fully explored. The 'power of the hearth fire' is good and I agree. It draws the family together also, interesting that you add that it is 'symbolic for life burning on' and then by the end of the story his life ceases to burn. The fire it out. Interesting since there is a Shakespeare quote that says something like this (Henry V), when Henry sanctions the hanging of Bartolph (Bartoff) for stealing in a church in France. Fluellen says: "Hi face is all bubukles, whelks and knobs, and flames of fire; and his lips plow at his nose, and it is like a red coal of fire, sometimes blue and sometimes red; but his nose is executed and his fire is out."


This is a domestic crisis, the husband coming home drunk and wasting his money away in drink. But the irony that runs through here is that it will be an even greater domestic crisis than is at first perceived. A dead husband is one who cannot take care of the family. The fire in the hearth does not burn from fire wood, but from coals. As a miner, the father brings home coals to provide nourishment to the family. Some of you have commented on the ugly industrialism versus nature element in the story. I personally don't feel that this is the theme of the story. This story to me is a story of realism, of work and family and death. The description of the mining town isn't tinged with moral imperative, but as a realistic setting to the story.

Interesting that the hearth does burn with coal - I was thinking the same thing and how the husband is slaving for that coal to furnish the fire that will nourish the family.

I did not think the contrast of the natural beauty of nature and of the coal mine's ugliness was the main theme in this story, but it is a sideline theme, and worthy of mention. It also mimics the difference in the husband and the wife and the duality of their lives and expectations, much as the same as in S&L. Yes, the description of the town is an observation on Lawrence's part and very realistic - the perfect setting for this story - and one he knew well.


Chrysanthemums are a flower that blossom in the fall and are associated with death. We put mums in front of tombstones in the fall. The bright Mum flower will foreshadow the bright dead body of the father when it is brought home. The breaking of the flowers into petals accentuates the death association. Interesting how the mother exclaims, "One would think the house was afire," when the daughter spots a broken flower in her apron. But more importantly is this statement by the mother:
I did not know chrysanthamums were associated with death. How did you find this out. I know that various flowers do have significance as representing an idea such as the lily that Manolia pointed out to us in the S&L thread. This seem to make the mother afraid. These flowers usually are associated with death but I was not aware that chyrsantamums were a flower representing death. Aren't they an oriental flower originally? I will look them up in Wikipedia - now you have me curious to find out. I know that different colored roses have different meanings. Red is for true love, yellow for parting, etc. I don't know about scent with chysanthamums either. I don't recall them smelling very much although when one gardens and plants them I do recall some scent that is not very appealing, strong like dandelions, but I may be wrong. Maybe these are just NJ (the Garden State) variety....haha. Polution up your way from NYC probably killed the scent! :lol:


And we ironically can finish that statement with "it was chrysanthemums when he died." Something that confuses me, though. I have planted Chysanthemums and every time I do or come across them, I sniff them only to find they have no odor or scent of any kind. I always think of this story when I do. Am I wrong in assuming that Mums don't have a scent or is it just the ones here in New York? Do Mums in England have any scent?

I don't know what is wrong with me today. I keep answering your question that is below instead of above in my quoted post - please forgive me. I need my dinner - I am hungry and tired.:(


Nonetheless we see the two symbols interweaved in part I.

Yes, excellent and a very good post with keen observance and well put! :thumbs_up

[Virgil]

I don't know about scent with chysanthamums either. I don't recall them smelling very much although when one gardens and plants them I do recall some scent that is not very appealing, strong like dandelions, but I may be wrong. Maybe these are just NJ (the Garden State) variety....haha. Polution up your way from NYC probably killed the scent! :lol:


:lol: :lol: You mean the scent degenerates in NY? Hahaha.

Here are some Mums of various colors for those who don't know what they are.

http://www.freshflower.com/images/Mums.jpg

[Virgil]

I will say that it was hard to find the association of chrysanthemums with death. Mostly it seems to symbolize the opposite, long life, especially in far east culture. But finally I found this:


November Birth Flower
The chrysanthemum is the November birthflower. The chrysanthemum means compassion, friendship and secret love. This flower can be red, white or yellow. Chrysanthemums have been grown by the Chinese for over 2,000 years. This flower is also a symbol of the sun. Chrysanthemum was named after the Greek word which means gold flower.

The chrysanthemum blooms in late summer and fall. These flowers are native to Asia and Europe. There are over 30 species of the chyrsanthemum. It is the national flower of Japan and symbolizes the Japanese Emperor. In Europe the chrysanthemum is a symbol of death and is used for funerals or on graves. The chrysanthemum flower is actually a powerful antiseptic and antibiotic! It is used in traditional Chinese medicine to treat high blood pressure and angina. It is a perennial flower that will come back year after year.
http://www.birthflowersguide.com/november-birth-flower.html

My family, and we are of Italian ethnicity, have always regard chrysanthemums as associated with death.

Well here's another that I found. Notice the last sentence:


Chrysanthemum
Commonly called "mums" or "tansies," this popular perennial's name comes from the Greek chrysos (gold) and anthos (flower). The Chusan daisy became the "pompom chrysanthemum" - so called because in France, where it was first grown, it looked like the pompons on sailors' hats.
Chrysanthemums had been cultivated in Chinese gardens for more than 2,500 years before first being exhibited in England in 1795. Brought by visiting Buddhist monks, the chrysanthemum arrived in Japan in AD 400.
Sentiment & Symbolism
The chrysanthemum has been the focus of Oriental adulation for centuries.
In China, the chrysanthemum's association with autumn stems from its tendency to bloom in the fall. Consequently, the ancient Chinese chose the Chrysanthemum ("chu hua") as their Flower for October, a symbol of the rest and ease that followed the season's final harvest. Mums were considered one of the four Chinese "noble plants" (the others being bamboo, the plum, and the orchid), and were the official badge of the Old Chinese Army. Since chrysanthemums were considered the flower of the chinese noble class, they were prohibited in a lower-class person's garden. The Chinese believe that a chrysanthemum given to one's beloved, after its being used to wipe one's mouth after drinking wine, will ensure undying love and fidelity.
Called "kikus" in Japanese, chrysanthemums were featured on the Imperial Crest of Japan, and were so beloved by Japanese emperors that they sat upon chrysanthemum thrones. The Japanese still hold the chrysanthemum as a symbol of the sun, and they consider the orderly unfolding of the mum's petals to be a symbol of perfection.They also presume that a single chrysanthemum petal placed in the bottom of a wine glass encourages a long and healthy life.
Color Messages
While chrysanthemums generally denote cheerfulness and rest, individual colors do carry specific messages: red for love, good luck and best wishes; white for truth; and yellow for slighted love. Chrysanthemums will be welcomed throughout the British Isles and North America for any occasion. In Italy, however, their exclusive association with the dead makes chrysanthemums acceptable only for funerals.
http://www.sendflowers.ru/eng/info/512.html

I wonder if Lawrence picked up the death association from his Italian travals. Or is it a British symbol of death too? Anyone know?

[Janine]

Virgil, thanks for looking all of that up. It is very interesting. Wow, that picture is pretty - such a variety of colors! Yes, seems as if the meaning is significant and it all depends on where you are from as to what meaning it has. I find this part of your research highly interesting -

"The chrysanthemum has been the focus of Oriental adulation for centuries.
In China, the chrysanthemum's association with autumn stems from its tendency to bloom in the fall. Consequently, the ancient Chinese chose the Chrysanthemum ("chu hua") as their Flower for October, a symbol of the rest and ease that followed the season's final harvest. Mums were considered one of the four Chinese "noble plants" (the others being bamboo, the plum, and the orchid), and were the official badge of the Old Chinese Army. Since chrysanthemums were considered the flower of the chinese noble class, they were prohibited in a lower-class person's garden. The Chinese believe that a chrysanthemum given to one's beloved, after its being used to wipe one's mouth after drinking wine, will ensure undying love and fidelity.
Called "kikus" in Japanese, chrysanthemums were featured on the Imperial Crest of Japan, and were so beloved by Japanese emperors that they sat upon chrysanthemum thrones. The Japanese still hold the chrysanthemum as a symbol of the sun, and they consider the orderly unfolding of the mum's petals to be a symbol of perfection.They also presume that a single chrysanthemum petal placed in the bottom of a wine glass encourages a long and healthy life."

In this story, if you think of the toil of the miner, and now that he is dead he is at his 'rest and ease' I think the flower takes on a lovely meaning. "official badge of the Old Chinese Army" - didn't the miner wear one in his lapel or on his jacket? and...could that be significant? Also, this part ties in with your idea of the fire and my idea of the sun - "chrysanthemum as a symbol of the sun, and they consider the orderly unfolding of the mum's petals to be a symbol of perfection".
Finally, the Italian meaning of a symbol of death. This too is very poignant and significant to the story. Knowing how much Lawrence liked to read of various cultures at this time in his life, I think he might have been aware of this and also he was an avid student of botany and may have found various significant meanings for the flower, while studying the various flowers and plants.

[Quark]

Am I the only one discussing the short story? Where is everybody?

Janine, you're making me laugh. We're here. We just haven't been that forthcoming, yet.


The fire is associated with domesticity, the kitchen, the hearth, sitting around the table, mother and children waiting for father. Second it provides nourshment, tea and bread are warmed by it. Nourishment is the heart of family, and they are "transfigured" by it. Now this is an early Lawrence story, so the word "transfigure" (as you can see it comes up repeatedly in Lawrence's works) does not yet carry the same religious weight that occurs in the later Lawrence stories. Nonetheless it shows the power of the hearth fire. Third, the fire is symbolic for life. From the very first quote I presented here: "All the life of the room seemed in the white, warm hearth and the steel fender reflecting the red fire." The fire is what holds life together and is also symbolic for life burning on. As those who have completed the story know, the fire of the father's life has run out. Something else too. The mother is outraged at what she perceives as her husband whittling his time away at a bar drinking:

This is a domestic crisis, the husband coming home drunk and wasting his money away in drink. But the irony that runs through here is that it will be an even greater domestic crisis than is at first perceived. A dead husband is one who cannot take care of the family. The fire in the hearth does not burn from fire wood, but from coals. As a miner, the father brings home coals to provide nourishment to the family.

The fire is a key image in the story. It's interesting, though, that the mother seems to be opposed to it. She wonders at other people's fascination with the fire, and she constantly dims the room. If the fire means domesticity or sustenance, could the mother really be opposed to it? Also, can the fire mean "life"? If we mean vitality, then maybe yes. But, if we use the word symbolically--like Mrs. Bates does at the end--we run into the same problem. The last words of the story are, "She knew she submitted to life, which was her immediate master. But from death, her ultimate master, she winced with fear and shame". So, if Mrs. Bates accepts life definitively, why would she try to muffle it symbolically. The fire could just be an image of vigor and liveliness. The flames do shoot out of the mine when the husband is still alive, and the flames fade as the story progresses. The action of fire in the story could just be an indicator of the husbands death. But, if that were true, why would the characters respond to the fire before they realized that Mr. Bates had died? I think the fire might represent something else. Rather than life, I think the fire might represent death and the truth that comes with it. Death reminds the mother that people are separated from each other by an uncrossable distance. She realizes that her husband lived his own life, and that she couldn't change that. This idea horrifies Mrs. Bates, though. She can't grasp it. The fire seems to represent this epiphany that Mrs. Bates has more than anything else. Hence, when the children express a desire or fascination for fire and light, what they signify to their mother is that they want separation. The mother refuses to accept this distance, and she keeps both them and herself in the dark.

As for Chrysanthemums, yes, they are a symbol for death and mourning--universally, not just in this story. Never give your girlfriend mums--it might send the wrong message. However, in this story, where life and death have meanings of their own, Chrysanthemums may have more implications than just death.

[Janine]

Janine, you're making me laugh. We're here. We just haven't been that forthcoming, yet.

Hello Quark! Now you are making me laugh, too...so you have been here all the time, just behind the scenes reading posts, the invisible man.
I had to turn my computer off tonight, due to thunderstorms in my area; I even unplugged, after the experience I had a few months back when a surge killed my DSL modem. I did not want to chance a repeat of that. So it seemed a good time to clean - well, really there is never a good time to do so - but since I had to forgo the computer, I made myself; so what I am saying with a zillion too many words, is that I only just am checking in on the computer and this thread. Glad, anyway, to see you posting.:D




The fire is a key image in the story. It's interesting, though, that the mother seems to be opposed to it. She wonders at other people's fascination with the fire, and she constantly dims the room. If the fire means domesticity or sustenance, could the mother really be opposed to it? Also, can the fire mean "life"? If we mean vitality, then maybe yes. But, if we use the word symbolically--like Mrs. Bates does at the end--we run into the same problem. The last words of the story are, "She knew she submitted to life, which was her immediate master. But from death, her ultimate master, she winced with fear and shame". So, if Mrs. Bates accepts life definitively, why would she try to muffle it symbolically. The fire could just be an image of vigor and liveliness. The flames do shoot out of the mine when the husband is still alive, and the flames fade as the story progresses. The action of fire in the story could just be an indicator of the husbands death. But, if that were true, why would the characters respond to the fire before they realized that Mr. Bates had died? I think the fire might represent something else. Rather than life, I think the fire might represent death and the truth that comes with it. Death reminds the mother that people are separated from each other by an uncrossable distance. She realizes that her husband lived his own life, and that she couldn't change that. This idea horrifies Mrs. Bates, though. She can't grasp it. The fire seems to represent this epiphany that Mrs. Bates has more than anything else. Hence, when the children express a desire or fascination for fire and light, what they signify to their mother is that they want separation. The mother refuses to accept this distance, and she keeps both them and herself in the dark.

Ok, good. I like reading this and want to read it over again tomorrow (when I am more wide-awake). Interesting to hear some slightly different perspectives on the aspect of fire and it's meaning/meanings. Now as I re-read the story, I will look more closely at this aspect and probably form my own ideas about it as well.




As for Chrysanthemums, yes, they are a symbol for death and mourning--universally, not just in this story. Never give your girlfriend mums--it might send the wrong message. However, in this story, where life and death have meanings of their own, Chrysanthemums may have more implications than just death.

Yes, and if a boyfriend gives me chrysanthemums, I will definitely run the other way! haha.:lol: What other 'implications' other than death do you think they have? I would be interested in knowing, just incase:lol: . Seems in context with how they are seen in this story, there are different meanings for them throughout the story that change through time. Do you think this the case? So you think it significant?

[Virgil]

The fire is a key image in the story. It's interesting, though, that the mother seems to be opposed to it. She wonders at other people's fascination with the fire, and she constantly dims the room.
Glad you're joining the discussion Quark. Hmm, I had not noticed she was constantly dimming the fire. I will have to go back and check. Is this what you are referring to?

She went out. As she dropped piece after piece of coal on the red fire, the shadows fell on the walls, till the room was almost in total darkness.

"I canna see," grumbled the invisible John. In spite of herself, the mother laughed.

"You know the way to your mouth," she said. She set the dustpan outside the door. When she came again like a shadow on the hearth, the lad repeated, complaining sulkily:

"I canna see."

"Good gracious!" cried the mother irritably, "you're as bad as your father if it's a bit dusk!"

Nevertheless she took a paper spill from a sheaf on the mantelpiece and proceeded to light the lamp that hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room. As she reached up, her figure displayed itself just rounding with maternity.
I don't know how coals in a fire work (I've never done it), but I take that to mean that there is a delay before the coals start burning and a period of darkness occurs before they start to burn. The intent is to feed the fire. The mother does light a lamp. There is certainly a play thoughout the story between light and darkness, life and death.


If the fire means domesticity or sustenance, could the mother really be opposed to it?
Where do you see she's opposed to it? I think you're pushing the symbolism a little too far. The hearth creates a scene of domesticity. You use the the word "means" as if this is an equation. This is not allegory.


Also, can the fire mean "life"? If we mean vitality, then maybe yes. But, if we use the word symbolically--like Mrs. Bates does at the end--we run into the same problem. The last words of the story are, "She knew she submitted to life, which was her immediate master. But from death, her ultimate master, she winced with fear and shame". So, if Mrs. Bates accepts life definitively, why would she try to muffle it symbolically.
Where is she muffling it? She's putting coals into the fire.


The fire could just be an image of vigor and liveliness. The flames do shoot out of the mine when the husband is still alive, and the flames fade as the story progresses. The action of fire in the story could just be an indicator of the husbands death. But, if that were true, why would the characters respond to the fire before they realized that Mr. Bates had died? I think the fire might represent something else. Rather than life, I think the fire might represent death and the truth that comes with it.
Yes, I like that. Life, death, two faces on the same coin. Symbols carry multiple meanings. Be aware though that a burning substance is traditionally looked on as life. I think Janine above already mentioned a few. My favorite is from MacBeth: "And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle."


Death reminds the mother that people are separated from each other by an uncrossable distance. She realizes that her husband lived his own life, and that she couldn't change that. This idea horrifies Mrs. Bates, though. She can't grasp it. The fire seems to represent this epiphany that Mrs. Bates has more than anything else. Hence, when the children express a desire or fascination for fire and light, what they signify to their mother is that they want separation. The mother refuses to accept this distance, and she keeps both them and herself in the dark.
That is an intersting reading. I can agree with all but the last sentence, though I'm not quite convinced that the story is about the uncrossable distance between people. The uncrossable distance between life and death, that I am in full agreement. I don't find Mrs. Bates trying to keep anyone in the dark. She is feeding the fire and then lighting a candle.


As for Chrysanthemums, yes, they are a symbol for death and mourning--universally, not just in this story. Never give your girlfriend mums--it might send the wrong message. However, in this story, where life and death have meanings of their own, Chrysanthemums may have more implications than just death.
You've heard that too then. When i went searching on the internet for it I had expected it to be everywhere. But I found just the opposite. Overwhleming mums were said to be symbols of life, except for a rare reference. I was beginning to think i was crazy.

[Janine]

Glad you're joining the discussion Quark. Hmm, I had not noticed she was constantly dimming the fire. I will have to go back and check. Is this what you are referring to?

Virgil, Yes, I second that. Glad you are here Quark. Things should get lively now, with more participants. The more the merrier...or so I hope.;)

I don't know how coals in a fire work (I've never done it), but I take that to mean that there is a delay before the coals start burning and a period of darkness occurs before they start to burn. The intent is to feed the fire. The mother does light a lamp. There is certainly a play thoughout the story between light and darkness, life and death.
I think one would have to feed the fire to keep it burning. Of course the coal's would naturally burn down the then ignite new coals which would take time to really get burning and glowing. I don't think of a coal fire with a lot of flame but I just thought of when one uses them in a barbecue and then inigially there is flame. Perhaps some wood is also added to these fires in England. I think the important thing here is the ebbing and waning of the light that eminates from the coals and the hearth. I have just been looking up countless reference to fire and flame in Lawrence's works in my critical analyasis book and I have come up with some good stuff. I will be scanning some to post later on. I think you will find them quite interesting. Fire definitely represented to Lawrence life.


Where do you see she's opposed to it? I think you're pushing the symbolism a little too far. The hearth creates a scene of domesticity. You use the the word "means" as if this is an equation. This is not allegory.

Also. the hearth represents 'life' in the glow of the flames. My references will clearly show this. Therefore I do agree that the mother cannot be against that. In some of the lines you quoted at the end of the story she is all for life being her master, but is in fear of death. Death would be the darkness. I agree that when the fire burns low she then lights a lamp to keep light in the room. There is a constant play in this story of light and dark and only now do I see how much it plays a major role in unfolding the story and the two people and their feelings towards each other.


Where is she muffling it? She's putting coals into the fire.

Coals may muffle, or die down, at first, but then the flames will be rekindled or the light will brighten from the glow of the increasing light of the burning coals.


Yes, I like that. Life, death, two faces on the same coin. Symbols carry multiple meanings. Be aware though that a burning substance is traditionally looked on as life. I think Janine above already mentioned a few. My favorite is from MacBeth: "And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle."

I agree. This is good. The story has many dualities and multiple meanings. Yes, there are countless references of fire and burning meaning life. The 'flame of life' and Lawrence must have drawn heavily from this idea from the ancients, the Indians with their fire dances, and throughout literature. Many many references exist in Shakespeare about the fire in relation to life and the sun as well, which consists of fire. Good line from MacBeth! Also lines in Othello I believe when he smothers Desdemonia in her bed. He extinquishes the candles and then proceeds to kill her in the darkness.
After he kills her, he says:


Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse
Of sun and moon, and that the affrighted globe
Should yawn at alteration.

Therefore darkness is apparent and death reigns.

No doubt. countless other references can be found. contrasting light and dark in conjuction with life and death throughout Shakespeare and other novelists.


That is an intersting reading. I can agree with all but the last sentence, though I'm not quite convinced that the story is about the uncrossable distance between people. The uncrossable distance between life and death, that I am in full agreement. I don't find Mrs. Bates trying to keep anyone in the dark. She is feeding the fire and then lighting a candle.

I have something on this I will post later. I have to copy or scan it from my book. I will come back to this idea.



You've heard that too then. When i went searching on the internet for it I had expected it to be everywhere. But I found just the opposite. Overwhleming mums were said to be symbols of life, except for a rare reference. I was beginning to think i was crazy.

I have heard it before, also, but maybe it depends on when it is referenced in time. Perhaps now Chrysanthemums are a more positive symbol and also it seems that it depends on where the flowers are grown and what they represent to the people of that nation.

This story was not an very early story, as you would think. It is actually in 'Volume II' of the short stories and written after "Sons and Lovers". Michael Black says:

Their (referring also to 'Daughters of the Vicar') completion takes us into the first period of his marturity, so that they represent a substantial advance on "Sons and Lovers," in his own grasp of what he wanted to say, and his ability to express it. Yet they are related to the material f that novel, as well as to the stories already considered. This story, along with 'Daughters of the Vicar', is widely accepted as among Lawrence's masterpieces.
Michael Black states:
[QUOTE]We are back in another cottage by the railway-side; the story is shorter, very concentrated, and 'dramatice' in that the events take place in a few hours and have the weight and inevitability of those climactic moments in which a fate is worked out. There is a sense of years being summed up and given a meaning; but no eventful 'plot', and only one central character - the miner's wife. All others are mere attendents. The anger is because she thinks he is getting drunk at the pub. But he is brought in dead, smothered by a fall of rock at the coal face. The wife and this mother lay out and wsh the body in the greatest of all Lawrence's ritual lavings: and in the course of this Elizabeth, like Louisa in 'Daughters of the Vicar', seeing the body before her, comes, too late, upon an essential truth, a revelation about the otherness of the man - what he was.

I ask you to think on this statement (new aspect of the story) by Michael Black:


In the page or two in which the laying-out is described - like a Desposition or a Pieta by a great artist - the simple languages is again both Biblical and peculiarly Lawrentian. These paragraphs are one of the great set-pieces in the language. The passage begins:

When they arose, saw him lying in the naive dignity of death, the women stood arrested in fear and respect. For a few moments they remained still, looking down, the old mother whimpering. Elizabeth felt countermanded. She saw him, how utterly inviolable he lay in himself. She had nothing to do with him. She could not accept it. Stooping, she laid her hands on him, in claim....

The beginning lines of this reminds me so of the biblical account of the two women in Christ's tomb.


I will add more to this later tonight on what Michael Black has to add to this observance of this paragraph. Also I will post some of the references throughout Lawrence's work about fire/light/flame.

[Quark]

Virgil, I assume you're right. Most readers conclude that the fire alludes to life. Certainly, now that I read over it again, I can see this more clearly. Mrs. Bates (I shouldn't simply refer to her as the mother since there are two mothers) does light candles and lamps. She even feels comforted by the presence of light. Really, it's the dark she's terrified of. Lawrence demonstrates during Mrs. Bates walk from her house:


The night was very dark. In the great bay of railway lines, bulked with trucks, there was no trace of light, only away back she could see a few yellow lamps at the pit-top, and the red smear of the burning pit- bank on the night. She hurried along the edge of the track, then, crossing the converging lines, came to the stile by the white gates, whence she emerged on the road. Then the fear which had led her shrank. People were walking up to New Brinsley; she saw the lights in the houses; twenty yards further on were the broad windows of the 'Prince of Wales', very warm and bright, and the loud voices of men could be heard distinctly. What a fool she had been to imagine that anything had happened to him!

Mrs. Bates is relieved when she sees the light and imagines the warmth of the pub. Her fear is associated with the cold darkness outside.


Where do you see she's opposed to it?

No, I don't think she's opposed to the fire, now. It seems she's actually allied with it.


I think you're pushing the symbolism a little too far. The hearth creates a scene of domesticity. You use the the word "means" as if this is an equation. This is not allegory.

This isn't allegory. But, at the same time, this isn't a realist tale about mining towns in the early twentieth century. Lawrence isn't simply trying to render the physical and mental plight of some families in northern England. The story does a poor job of that. Lawrence seems more interested in developing recurring themes in his main characters and exploring them by manipulating the plot and environment to bring his character to complete understanding of those themes. So, we do need to read much of this story symbolically. One to one relationships may be a little simplistic, though.


I'm not quite convinced that the story is about the uncrossable distance between people.

The story isn't only about the distance between people. It's also about Mrs. Bates misguided attempts to control her family. As Mrs. Bates realizes that she hadn't been fair to her husband she says, "She had denied him what he was--she saw it now. She had refused him as himself. And this had been her life, and his life. She was grateful to death, which had restored the truth". The story is also about Mrs. Bates lamenting her controlling nature. Remember that Mr. Bates dies trapped and suffocating, and that the doctor says, "seems as if it were dont o' purpose". The details of the death are given very minutely. It appears like Lawrence was intimating something. Perhaps, Mr. Bates death is an allusion to Mrs. Bates treatment of him--her rejection and chastisement of him.


The uncrossable distance between life and death, that I am in full agreement. I don't find Mrs. Bates trying to keep anyone in the dark.

It's not just in death that the married couple are separated. As Mrs. Bates concludes, "they had met in the dark and had fought in the dark, not knowing whom they met nor whom they fought. And now she saw, and turned silent in seeing. For she had been wrong. She had said he was something he was not; she had felt familiar with him. Whereas he was apart all the while, living as she never lived, feeling as she never felt". Mrs. Bates believes they were separated during their lives. Notice she says they "had" met in the dark and he was apart "all the while". These words indicate that the distance between them was always there and that she hadn't been aware of it. Death isn't another state; it's only the means through which Mrs. Bates can finally understand her husband. When Mr. Bates is dead, she can no longer silence his will to be his own person--he becomes "inviolable". The fire and heat that Mrs. Bates desires is only an illusion. In her moment of clarity at the end she asks herself, "Was this what it all meant--utter, intact, seperateness, obscured by the hear of living?". That may be an overstatement, but I think we have to agree with her somewhat.


Oh, and Janine, I will write something about the flowers. My ideas on this are still somewhat vague, and I'd prefer to wait and think it through. I wouldn't want to discredit myself this early in the discussion by posting something as wrongheaded as my first post.

[Janine]

Virgil, I assume you're right. Most readers conclude that the fire alludes to life. Certainly, now that I read over it again, I can see this more clearly. Mrs. Bates (I shouldn't simply refer to her as the mother since there are two mothers) does light candles and lamps. She even feels comforted by the presence of light. Really, it's the dark she's terrified of. Lawrence demonstrates during Mrs. Bates walk from her house:
Good observation on seeing the inn and the light and warmth within. I have been reading how certain types of light were perceived with different meanings within Lawrence other works - such as cool/cold light of street lamps in London as compared to warm light of the home, hearth, etc. This is just one example. I think firelight and candlelight and light coming from a tavern would be warm glowing type light and associated with life. Also in Lawrence's later works he fully explores this notion of light and it coming from the source of all life - the sun. Many cultures worship the sun or the sun-god. It all seems to tie in with Lawrence's ideas.


Mrs. Bates is relieved when she sees the light and imagines the warmth of the pub. Her fear is associated with the cold darkness outside.

Definitely. The darkness represents the unknown and death. If you notice the son is often described sitting in shadow. I thought that was interesting. The miners worked in dark pits. Ironically the very substance that sustains the light and the warm of the house and family kills the man in the end. The coal falling and trapping him in to suffocate. The darkness is suffocating and surely means certain death.


No, I don't think she's opposed to the fire, now. It seems she's actually allied with it.

I believe she is. I see what you mean on a second reading about her reluctance to light the lamp - she tells the children it is just dust yet and I believe she makes mention of the husband and how he would want the light as well and be annoyed if the light of the fire was burning low. Could this represent his desire to avoid the darkness and death? Everyday he must work in close proximity to death and darkness in the pit, so on coming home he would definitely crave the light of the hearth and the 'life' of the family.


This isn't allegory. But, at the same time, this isn't a realist tale about mining towns in the early twentieth century. Lawrence isn't simply trying to render the physical and mental plight of some families in northern England. The story does a poor job of that. Lawrence seems more interested in developing recurring themes in his main characters and exploring them by manipulating the plot and environment to bring his character to complete understanding of those themes. So, we do need to read much of this story symbolically. One to one relationships may be a little simplistic, though.

True, I found this in enotes on the web: http://www.enotes.com/short-story-criticism/lawrence-d-h

Most critics concur that “Odour of Chrysanthemums” marked the emergence of a second stage in the development of Lawrence's short fiction. Composed in 1911 and published in The Prussian Officer, and Other Stories (1914), this piece incorporates the heightened realism of Henry James, Joseph Conrad, and Leo Tolstoy, and like most of Lawrence's stories from the years 1909 to 1912, focuses on the familiar events and problems of twentieth-century industrial society, while displaying concern for the lives of ordinary men and women............................................. ..................................other works of the period before 1925 imply the depth and complexity of ordinary experience and retain Lawrence's sharp observation of character and place.




The story isn't only about the distance between people. It's also about Mrs. Bates misguided attempts to control her family. As Mrs. Bates realizes that she hadn't been fair to her husband she says, "She had denied him what he was--she saw it now. She had refused him as himself. And this had been her life, and his life. She was grateful to death, which had restored the truth". The story is also about Mrs. Bates lamenting her controlling nature. Remember that Mr. Bates dies trapped and suffocating, and that the doctor says, "seems as if it were dont o' purpose". The details of the death are given very minutely. It appears like Lawrence was intimating something. Perhaps, Mr. Bates death is an allusion to Mrs. Bates treatment of him--her rejection and chastisement of him.

This interests me but I need to quote somethings and don't have time now. I think you will find them of interest. I hightlighted some passages that I think supports these or some of these ideas. I will be back later on with those quotes.




It's not just in death that the married couple are separated. As Mrs. Bates concludes, "they had met in the dark and had fought in the dark, not knowing whom they met nor whom they fought. And now she saw, and turned silent in seeing. For she had been wrong. She had said he was something he was not; she had felt familiar with him. Whereas he was apart all the while, living as she never lived, feeling as she never felt". Mrs. Bates believes they were separated during their lives. Notice she says they "had" met in the dark and he was apart "all the while". These words indicate that the distance between them was always there and that she hadn't been aware of it. Death isn't another state; it's only the means through which Mrs. Bates can finally understand her husband. When Mr. Bates is dead, she can no longer silence his will to be his own person--he becomes "inviolable". The fire and heat that Mrs. Bates desires is only an illusion. In her moment of clarity at the end she asks herself, "Was this what it all meant--utter, intact, seperateness, obscured by the hear of living?". That may be an overstatement, but I think we have to agree with her somewhat.

Again I just dug up something interesting that has reference to this part of your post. This is good. I will come back to it later. No time presently - darn.


Oh, and Janine, I will write something about the flowers. My ideas on this are still somewhat vague, and I'd prefer to wait and think it through. I wouldn't want to discredit myself this early in the discussion by posting something as wrongheaded as my first post.

Quark - well, I hope so...I don't want to be left out...hha:lol: Also did you think about the bathing being a Christ-like ritual...my last question?

[Virgil]

I wouldn't want to discredit myself this early in the discussion by posting something as wrongheaded as my first post.

Oh that is alright Quark. You didn't discredit yourself. You weren't that far off in your reading, just in one symbol. I like much of what you say in that last post. :)

[Virgil]

Also did you think about the bathing being a Christ-like ritual...my last question?

I never considered that. I think you are right about that Janine.

[Janine]

Quark's post:


The story isn't only about the distance between people. It's also about Mrs. Bates misguided attempts to control her family. As Mrs. Bates realizes that she hadn't been fair to her husband she says, "She had denied him what he was--she saw it now. She had refused him as himself. And this had been her life, and his life. She was grateful to death, which had restored the truth". The story is also about Mrs. Bates lamenting her controlling nature. Remember that Mr. Bates dies trapped and suffocating, and that the doctor says, "seems as if it were dont o' purpose". The details of the death are given very minutely. It appears like Lawrence was intimating something. Perhaps, Mr. Bates death is an allusion to Mrs. Bates treatment of him--her rejection and chastisement of him.

Quark,This might add to your thoughts on Mrs. Bates; more commentary by Michael Black:

"A large bony vine clutched at the house, as if to claw down the tiled roof. Round the brick yard grew a few wintry primroses. Beyond, the long garden sloped down to a bush-covered brook course. There were some twiggy apple trees, winter-crack trees, chrysanthemums, like pink cloths hung on bushes."

The hardness and bitterness of Elizabeth Bates, the central woman of the tale, is well led up to by this initial description. The story concerns the domestic situation of the Bates family and the strained and awkward relationship of the man and wife, although the husband never comes before us until he is dead, killed in a mining accident. The situation is simple enough, and the mining accident a stereotype of a thousand similar stories of mining villages, but Lawrence invests the situation with a deep and moving significance. In the first part of the tale the tension and harshness of the household is well built up as the rest of the family wait for the husband to return from work, but it is assumed that he has once more gone straight from work to the public house; in the second part the tone changes, with the tension switching to a different key as the husband's continued absence becomes more ominous. Eventually he is brought home dead, and the fact of his death throws into another perspective the lives of the man's wife and mother. The tone is perfectly caught, for the miner's death is not sentimentalised over; rather, the wife, Elizabeth, is made aware of the transitoriness of life and her own past error in allowing the ordinariness and mundaneness of her lot to stifle her feelings and demean her character. Now he is dead she realises with tragic immediacy the fact that he was different from her and different from her conception of him:
"Life with its smoky burning gone from him, had left him apart, and utterly alien to her. And she knew what a stranger he was to her. In her womb was ice of fear, because of this separate stranger with whom she had been living as one flesh. Was this what it all meant-utter, intact separateness, obscured by heat of living? In dread she turned her face away .... For as she looked at the dead man, her mind, cold and detached, said clearly: 'Who am I? What have I been doing? I have been fighting a husband who did not exist. He existed all the time. What wrong have I done...

Quark's post:


It's not just in death that the married couple are separated. As Mrs. Bates concludes, "they had met in the dark and had fought in the dark, not knowing whom they met nor whom they fought. And now she saw, and turned silent in seeing. For she had been wrong. She had said he was something he was not; she had felt familiar with him. Whereas he was apart all the while, living as she never lived, feeling as she never felt". Mrs. Bates believes they were separated during their lives. Notice she says they "had" met in the dark and he was apart "all the while". These words indicate that the distance between them was always there and that she hadn't been aware of it. Death isn't another state; it's only the means through which Mrs. Bates can finally understand her husband. When Mr. Bates is dead, she can no longer silence his will to be his own person--he becomes "inviolable". The fire and heat that Mrs. Bates desires is only an illusion. In her moment of clarity at the end she asks herself, "Was this what it all meant--utter, intact, seperateness, obscured by the hear of living?". That may be an overstatement, but I think we have to agree with her somewhat.

Quark,more commentary by Michael Black:


The passage below is interesting, not only in that it shows Lawrence's own awareness of the fact of death, but also in its effect in the story as a whole. The 'ice of fear' in her 'womb' (a word so annoying to some readers of Lawrence, not always without cause) here is effectually used to cast the reader's mind back to a previous scene where the contrast of life and death, and the meanness of the woman in her 'death-in-life', is well shown when, as she reaches up to light the lamp, her daughter remarks at the chrysanthemums which she had earlier placed in her apron-band. The parallel between her wearing the flowers and her pregnancy is symbolic of life:

As she reached up, her figure displayed itself just rounding with maternity.
'Oh, mother- l' exclaimed the girl.
'What?' said the woman, suspended in the act of putting the lamp-glass over the flame. The copper reflector shone handsomely on her, as she stood with uplifted arm, turning to face her daughter.
'You've got a flower in your apron!' said the child, in a little rapture at this unusual event.
'Goodness me l' exclaimed the woman, relieved. 'One would have thought the house was afire.' she replaced the glass and waited a moment before turning up the wick. A pale shadow was seen floating vaguely on the floor.
'Let me smell!' said the child, still rapturously, coming forward and putting her face to her mother's waist.
'Go along, silly l' said the mother, turning up the lamp. The light revealed their suspense so that the woman found it almost unbearable. Annie was still bending at her waist. Irritably, the mother took the flowers out from her apron-band.
'Oh, mother-don't take them out!' Annie cried, catching her hand and trying to replace the sprig.
'Such nonsense!' said the mother, turning away.

The symbolism of the scene is wonderfully suggestive of the child's delight in life and the mother's dismissal of it, and it is remarkable that the symbolism Lawrence is employing here to parallel the flowers and the woman's pregnancy is typical of the symbolism of many English folk songs, such as 'The Seeds of Love'; Lawrence may well have been writing consciously or unconsciously in a folk-convention at this point. (It is not out of place to remind ourselves that Lawrence is one of the first writers in English of truly working-class origins.) However, Lawrence is not perfect in his handling of this scene, for although it is beautifully formed as it is quoted above, its effect is slightly spoilt by the way in which one aspect of its significance is hammered home in the next few lines, in which the woman's conscious antipathy to the flowers is shown:
'It was chrysanthemums when I married him, and chrysanthemums when you were born, and the first time they ever brought him home drunk, he'd got brown chrysanthemums in his button-hole.' p. 289

As I was reading the story earlier, I highlighted some parts of the text and this 'ice' word in the text caught my eye particularly and in conjunction with the unborn child. I thought Michael Black's commentary on it was interesting.

[Janine]

Virgil,thanks, I know I am right ;) :lol: because I read it in the commentary book....haha.:lol: I will post more on it so you can read the theory behind it all. It is quite interesting. But for now, I am exhausted. I just wrote a long post and I had better resume my domestic duties. :)

[Virgil]

Virgil,thanks, I know I am right ;) :lol: because I read it in the commentary book....haha.:lol: I will post more on it so you can read the theory behind it all. It is quite interesting. But for now, I am exhausted. I just wrote a long post and I had better resume my domestic duties. :)

Well, commentary books aren't always right either. Lots of critics disagree, and then someone is right and someone has to be wrong. ;) I don't seem to recall a Michael Black when I was researching Lawrence for my thesis. What year is that book copywrited?

edit: I just looked him up and yes I did come across his book. He writes mostly on Lawrence's early works, and I did my thesis on Lawrence's later works.

[Janine]

Well, commentary books aren't always right either. Lots of critics disagree, and then someone is right and someone has to be wrong. ;) I don't seem to recall a Michael Black when I was researching Lawrence for my thesis. What year is that book copywrited?

edit: I just looked him up and yes I did come across his book. He writes mostly on Lawrence's early works, and I did my thesis on Lawrence's later works.

;)Hi Virgil, are you being hostile to me again? :lol:
I have read quite a bit of Michael Black's book and he has displayed, in my humble opinion, some very good insight into Lawrence and his early work. I bought this book after I read "The White Peacock", since I did not know of anyone I could disguss the book with; no one I know has heard of it, let alone read it. I found the things he pointed out very helpful and gave much scope to my own thoughts on the symbolism/imagery presented in the book. The book was published by Cambridge University Press and it came out in 1986. Of course, that hardly matters to me, since it does deal with the early fiction only. The novels go from "The White Peacock" up to "Sons and Lovers", then he explores the short stories, which has been very helpful so far to me.
There are a ton of critical anyalysis books on Lawrence currently available. I try to read several authors and sources, to get a more unbiased opinion. I like Michael Black's writings very much and agree mostly with what he has pointed out about the stories, so far of what I have read.

:lol: PS: Well, Lit Net poster aren't always right either. Lots of people disagree, and then someone is right and someone has to be wrong. ;)

[Virgil]

Noooo, I'm not being hostile. And what do you mean "again"? I don't recall being hostile to you.

[Janine]

Noooo, I'm not being hostile. And what do you mean "again"? I don't recall being hostile to you.

I am only kidding with you! I thought you could take it. I was referring to the S&L comment; I have just been in there again, so it was on my mind. YOU were not hostile at all. I was joking with you and exaggerating to make you laugh. Usually you and I are so peaceful and agree mostly, so two posts with opposition set me off today...but seriously...I was just having some fun with you....lighten-up, will you?;)

[Virgil]

I am only kidding with you! I thought you could take it. I was referring to the S&L comment; I have just been in there again, so it was on my mind. YOU were not hostile at all. I was joking with you and exaggerating to make you laugh. Usually you and I are so peaceful and agree mostly, so two posts with opposition set me off today...but seriously...I was just having some fun with you....lighten-up, will you?;)

I'm sorry Janine. I didn't mean for that to sound angry. It wasn't written in anger. I guess if you don't put a smiley face the tone can seem off since you can't seem my facila expressions. I meant it as humourously sarcastic.

And I am peaceful, as long as i'm not talking about stringing boys up by ...:lol:

[Janine]

I'm sorry Janine. I didn't mean for that to sound angry. It wasn't written in anger. I guess if you don't put a smiley face the tone can seem off since you can't seem my facila expressions. I meant it as humourously sarcastic.
I was being that way, too. Yes, next time use a smiley face so I know what you are up to 'facially.' - by the way, you spelled the word wrong - haha.:lol:


And I am peaceful, as long as i'm not talking about stringing boys up by ...:lol:

I thought of this and I thought "well at least he can not use that one on me!";) :lol:

[Virgil]

I was being that way, too. Yes, next time use a smiley face so I know what you are up to 'facially.' - by the way, you spelled the word wrong - haha.:lol:

Urrgh, I can't type or proof read. I wonder if facila actually means something. ;)


I thought of this and I thought "well at least he can not use that one on me!";) :lol:
:lol: You are too funny.

[Janine]

Urrgh, I can't type or proof read. I wonder if facila actually means something. ;) Sounds kind of Italian to me! hmm...



:lol: You are too funny.Thanks, I know I am!:lol:

[Janine]

Quasimodo pointed out this Lawrence poem to me. Thought it fit the scenerio of this story somewhat with the family gathered around the hearth fire:

PAX

All that matters is to be at one with the living God
To be a creature in the house of the God of Life.

Like a cat asleep on a chair
at peace, in peace
and at one with the master of the house, with the
mistress
at home, at home in the house of the living,
sleeping on the hearth, and yawning before the fire.

Sleeping on the hearth of the living world,
yawning at home before the fire of life
feeling the presence of the living God
like a great reassurance
a deep calm in the heart
a presence
as of a master sitting at the board
in his own and greater being,
in the house of life.

-- by D.H. Lawrence

Note the line "fire of life"

Will post something later. Going out again today and won't be near a computer. Be back this evening. Sorry for all the delays.