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Oh I got the pun. So did he? Maybe, maybe not. Cummins is a very common name; only you would think of the connection. Ever hear of the actor Bob Cummings?... so I added a g.;) I like how you read our Lawrence's mind. Lawrence's mind was not in the gutter like yours; not so sure he would go that far with this, but you can think what you please. Lawrence hated pornogrpahy, you know.Quote:
Originally Posted by Virgil
I might have to be inclined with Virgil here. Remember the way in which Lawrence played with things become "aroused" in Witch al Mode" His stories are often highly sexual. And things like this are rarely coincidental when it comes to writers and artists. As you said yourself how often he rewrote his stories, it seems odd he would not be aware of the connection. Particularly considering the many other ways he uses sexual suggestion.
Well, I know they are highly sexual and charged thus...I am the odd man out here, but most likely he was ticked at whomever he based Miss Cummins on. and therefore dreamed up the name. Was it Dorothy, do you know, Virigl? Or was Cummings totally fictious? He was ticked at Brett at the time he wrote this story; he doesn't paint the Princess in too good a light. I don't think Brett appreciated this story of his. I will have to check out the Who's Who Characters book and see if it says anything about this name. Also, I have qualms about Lawrence using a slang expression, apparently cum is a street slang expression, since I looked into my big college dictionary and the word 'cum' and the definition is not what you two are saying it is. I don't know of other instances, where Lawrence used such slang words, and besides, how does that fit that particular character? She was so prudish and fussy. It actually says in this dictionary that the word means this: "with, together with, along with"...that would fit, since the two were together, Miss Cummins as a sort of chaparone to the Princess - there to protect her from Romano or an indecreptancy...ties them together also, since Miss C is so very prudish and later the Princess assumed/maintains the same 'prudish' virginal guality. If Lawrence meant it in a sexual way I think he would have been a little more subtle.Quote:
Originally Posted by Dark Muse
I do not find the way the Princess is portrayed as being particularly negative or unflattering.Quote:
Originally Posted by Janine
From what I read in the biographies, Brett did find it unflattering and Lawrence admitted the story was based on her. I guess you are the only one finding it flattering to her image, but that is ok. It all depends on how you view this story. I kind of come in halfway on this one. That ending, I am not sure what to make of fully yet, but so many of Lawrence's works leave me asking many more questions. I think that is what attracts me to his work.Quote:
Originally Posted by Dark Muse
Quote:
Originally Posted by Janine
Oh Janine, haven't you read Lady Chatterly. And there are versions of Lady Chatterly called John Thomas and Lady Jane which are supposed to be slang for male and female gentalia in his day. Goodness didn't you just read The Plumed Serpent. What exactly do you think the serpent is supposed to symbolize? There is no doubt in my mind that Lawrence knew what he was implying with Miss Cummins.Quote:
Originally Posted by Janine
But how does that apply to that character? Why of course, I read those other books and I know the slang well, etc. I am the one with the films and they aren't tame either. I just feel this name thing is stretching it a bit in this particular story. Why not drop this now and just move on. It's totally unimportant really.Quote:
Originally Posted by Virgil
Here's the next section.
Well, we get more of Romero's character here. I think this elaborates on what I highlighted in the last section:Quote:
Domingo Romero was almost a typical Mexican to look at, with the typical heavy, dark, long face, clean-shaven, with an almost brutally heavy mouth. His eyes were black and Indian-looking. Only, at the centre of their hopelessness was a spark of pride, or self-confidence, or dauntlessness. Just a spark in the midst of the blackness of static despair.
But this spark was the difference between him and the mass of men. It gave a certain alert sensitiveness to his bearing and a certain beauty to his appearance. He wore a low-crowned black hat, instead of the ponderous headgear of the usual Mexican, and his clothes were thinnish and graceful. Silent, aloof, almost imperceptible in the landscape, he was an admirable guide, with a startling quick intelligence that anticipated difficulties about to rise. He could cook, too, crouching over the camp-fire and moving his lean deft brown hands. The only fault he had was that he was not forthcoming, he wasn't chatty and cosy.
"Oh, don't send Romero with us," the Jews would say. "One can't get any response from him."
Tourists come and go, but they rarely see anything, inwardly. None of them ever saw the spark at the middle of Romero's eye; they were not alive enough to see it.
The Princess caught it one day, when she had him for a guide. She was fishing for trout in the canyon, Miss Cummins was reading a book, the horses were tied under the trees, Romero was fixing a proper fly on her line. He fixed the fly and handed her the line, looking up at her. And at that moment she caught the spark in his eye. And instantly she knew that he was a gentleman, that his 'demon', as her father would have said, was a fine demon. And instantly her manner towards him changed.
He had perched her on a rock over a quiet pool, beyond the cotton-wood trees. It was early September, and the canyon already cool, but the leaves of the cottonwoods were still green. The Princess stood on her rock, a small but perfectly-formed figure, wearing a soft, close grey sweater and neatly-cut grey riding-breeches, with tall black boots, her fluffy brown hair straggling from under a little grey felt hat. A woman? Not quite. A changeling of some sort, perched in outline there on the rock, in the bristling wild canyon. She knew perfectly well how to handle a line. Her father had made a fisherman of her.
Romero, in a black shirt and with loose black trousers pushed into wide black riding-boots, was fishing a little farther down. He had put his hat on a rock behind him; his dark head was bent a little forward, watching the water. He had caught three trout. From time to time he glanced up-stream at the Princess, perched there so daintily. He saw she had caught nothing.
Soon he quietly drew in his line and came up to her. His keen eye watched her line, watched her position. Then, quietly, he suggested certain changes to her, putting his sensitive brown hand before her. And he withdrew a little, and stood in silence, leaning against a tree, watching her. He was helping her across the distance. She knew it, and thrilled. And in a moment she had a bite. In two minutes she landed a good trout. She looked round at him quickly, her eyes sparkling, the colour heightened in her cheeks. And as she met his eyes a smile of greeting went over his dark face, very sudden, with an odd sweetness.
She knew he was helping her. And she felt in his presence a subtle, insidious male kindliness she had never known before waiting upon her. Her cheek flushed, and her blue eyes darkened.
After this, she always looked for him, and for that curious dark beam of a man's kindliness which he could give her, as it were, from his chest, from his heart. It was something she had never known before.
A vague, unspoken intimacy grew up between them. She liked his voice, his appearance, his presence. His natural language was Spanish; he spoke English like a foreign language, rather slow, with a slight hesitation, but with a sad, plangent sonority lingering over from his Spanish. There was a certain subtle correctness in his appearance; he was always perfectly shaved; his hair was thick and rather long on top, but always carefully groomed behind. And his fine black cashmere shirt, his wide leather belt, his well-cut, wide black trousers going into the embroidered cowboy boots had a certain inextinguishable elegance. He wore no silver rings or buckles. Only his boots were embroidered and decorated at the top with an inlay of white suède. He seemed elegant, slender, yet he was very strong.
And at the same time, curiously, he gave her the feeling that death was not far from him. Perhaps he too was half in love with death. However that may be, the sense she had that death was not far from him made him 'possible' to her.
Small as she was, she was quite a good horsewoman. They gave her at the ranch a sorrel mare, very lovely in colour, and well-made, with a powerful broad neck and the hollow back that betokens a swift runner. Tansy, she was called. Her only fault was the usual mare's failing, she was inclined to be hysterical.
So that every day the Princess set off with Miss Cummins and Romero, on horseback, riding into the mountains. Once they went camping for several days, with two more friends in the party.
"I think I like it better," the Princess said to Romero, "when we three go alone."
And he gave her one of his quick, transfiguring smiles.
It was curious no white man had ever showed her this capacity for subtle gentleness, this power to help her in silence across a distance, if she were fishing without success, or tired of her horse, or if Tansy suddenly got scared. It was as if Romero could send her from his heart a dark beam of succour and sustaining. She had never known this before, and it was very thrilling.
Then the smile that suddenly creased his dark face, showing the strong white teeth. It creased his face almost into a savage grotesque. And at the same time there was in it something so warm, such a dark flame of kindliness for her, she was elated into her true Princess self.
Then that vivid, latent spark in his eye, which she had seen, and which she knew he was aware she had seen. It made an inter-recognition between them, silent and delicate. Here he was delicate as a woman in this subtle inter-recognition.
And yet his presence only put to flight in her the idée fixe of 'marriage'. For some reason, in her strange little brain, the idea of marrying him could not enter. Not for any definite reason. He was in himself a gentleman, and she had plenty of money for two. There was no actual obstacle. Nor was she conventional.
No, now she came down to it, it was as if their two 'dæmons' could marry, were perhaps married. Only their two selves, Miss Urquhart and Señor Domingo Romero, were for some reason incompatible. There was a peculiar subtle intimacy of inter-recognition between them. But she did not see in the least how it would lead to marriage. Almost she could more easily marry one of the nice boys from Harvard or Yale.
This combnation of confidence and despair sets up the climax of the story.Quote:
Only, at the centre of their hopelessness was a spark of pride, or self-confidence, or dauntlessness. Just a spark in the midst of the blackness of static despair.
And Dollie catches the spark in his eye:
I find this notion of a "demon" very interesting. What exactly does Lawrence mean? Certainly Romero becomes a sort of demon at the end of the story. And Dollie's father has that demon in him. It's almost as if it's a spirit, a wld spirit that the person doesn't have control over. Does Dollie have a demon in her? I guess so since their demons were supposed to have married. Very strange notion.Quote:
The Princess caught it one day, when she had him for a guide. She was fishing for trout in the canyon, Miss Cummins was reading a book, the horses were tied under the trees, Romero was fixing a proper fly on her line. He fixed the fly and handed her the line, looking up at her. And at that moment she caught the spark in his eye. And instantly she knew that he was a gentleman, that his 'demon', as her father would have said, was a fine demon. And instantly her manner towards him changed.
And of course this is important.
Their interaction in nature has stirred a sexual response in her. And notice the very next paragraph:Quote:
She knew he was helping her. And she felt in his presence a subtle, insidious male kindliness she had never known before waiting upon her. Her cheek flushed, and her blue eyes darkened.
She has become a follower, tamed by the maleness that Romero projects. Interesting Lawrence uses the metaphor of a "curious dark beam" for the power. I think in The Plumed Serpent he uses the term "dark column." And tink both terms suggest a phallus, the phallic power I mentioned earlier.Quote:
After this, she always looked for him, and for that curious dark beam of a man's kindliness which he could give her, as it were, from his chest, from his heart. It was something she had never known before.
This is so much like Lawrence's view of the Mexicans in "The Plumed Serpent" and in that novel he often gets repetitious with his observing/describing them and their attitude. He seems to either like the dark aspects of these people, or a brighter light he sees on the horizon for them...actually, I will look it up, but I think at one time Kate observes Ciprano as a tower of light. Lawrence seems here to see a sort of 'demon' in them, also. But to L, the 'demon' was not a bad thing. He rather revered it. If you recall in the film "Coming Through" when he asked advice from the Hopkins, Mrs. Hopkins asked 'have you asked your demon? ' This was referring to his situation with Frieda, and what steps he should take next; he replied he had asked the demon and 'he has recommended crucifixion'. That was biographical; I read it in several of my biographies. He also mentions this demon in many a letter he wrote, even as far back as those early years. When younger he once saw a production with Sarah Bernhardt and ran out of the threater terrified; yet he spoke of her performance as wonderful, even beautiful and 'that all her demons were pouring forth'. I have read several accounts of this experience, he seemed to be highly impressed with that experience and it seemed key for him in later years in his writing. Lawrence also saw God in the darker light. He did not have anytime for the tame God, as seen that way by the majority, but rather wanted the mysterious dark God, even the wrathful God we see in the Old Testment. I think in this story and TPS, which this story leads up to, this idea of the demon is very prevalent and major and it relates back to his father and to the blood-consciousness. He also abhored the dead Christ on the crucifixes in Mexico and the sad devotion people had to those iconic images. He wanted the breathing alive Christ of the flesh and blood and he wanted that he be the resurrected Christ, not the morbid still dead bleeding horrid image of the Christ on the cross, so prevalent and popular in the Mexican culture.Quote:
Domingo Romero was almost a typical Mexican to look at, with the typical heavy, dark, long face, clean-shaven, with an almost brutally heavy mouth. His eyes were black and Indian-looking. Only, at the centre of their hopelessness was a spark of pride, or self-confidence, or dauntlessness. Just a spark in the midst of the blackness of static despair.
This is just one aspect of this story. I will try and comment more later on about what other things you wrote in this last post, Virgil. Pretty much I agree with all you say and can maybe expand on some of your thoughts here.
I think also what I said above also addresses your question on the demon, here:
I think that Romero doesn't become the demon, I rather think he had this dark element in his nature all along. It is just that it fully surfaces towards the end. It takes his utmost frustration with The Princess to bring it out full-blown. True that Dollie's father also has that 'demon' aspect within him his makeup and he knows it. Doesn't he mention that he and his daugther have it? I will review the text. It is as though this demon is a wild spirit or a natural spirit unleased in this story at the end. His animal instincts take over. Lawrence probably saw this demon as a sort of 'holy ghost' as well. I definitely think Dollie had the demon as well. In Lawrence's eyes all people possessed a sort of demon; few recognised it; most supressed it. It is a strange notion but demon is not that new an idea. Doesn't this idea occur all throughout literature. In Hamlet surely he was possessed by a personal demon that surfaces and drive him on. In Hesse works he mentions the 'demon' often and it is key to some of much of work. I think any piece of literature that delves into the subconsious aspects of the characters display the demon idea. Isn't it the darker side of man, in essense. I believe that Lawrence believed one must see both sides for the person to be considered whole. For a conventional person, yes, this is a very odd notion, but is it? If one compared the Old and New Testment of the Bible, one can clearly see the darkness and the light and they make up the whole.Quote:
I find this notion of a "demon" very interesting. What exactly does Lawrence mean? Certainly Romero becomes a sort of demon at the end of the story. And Dollie's father has that demon in him. It's almost as if it's a spirit, a wld spirit that the person doesn't have control over. Does Dollie have a demon in her? I guess so since their demons were supposed to have married. Very strange notion.
Hey just to let you know, I haven't dissapared upon you, but this week I probably will not really be around very much. Next week I will most likely be able to once more rejoin the discussion.
That is ok, Dark Muse. Yeah, this week is kind of bad for me too with the holiday and everything. Hope you have a great Thanksgiving!Quote:
Originally Posted by Dark Muse
Excellent post Janine!!! I fully agree with everything you say. I do think demon was a positive trait for L, but it's sort of stange that Dollie has one too, though she seems to lack any blood consciouness.Quote:
Originally Posted by Janine
That's alright. Why don't we wait until after thanksgiving for the next section.Quote:
Originally Posted by Dark Muse
Thanks Virgil, that was complimentary...appreciate that. Somehow my thoughts all seemed to come together today; but I am not done with your long post or the long segment of text that you posted. I would like to take that paragraph by paragraph and comment.Quote:
Originally Posted by Virgil
About her demon - my response would have to be 'not really'. I believe that Lawrence believed that we all possessed the 'demon'. Just because she cannot connect with it' or the blood consciousness, doesn't mean she does not have the potential to. Unfortunately, in this case she did not embrass it and there is the whole gist of the story. In Lawrence's eyes this was a deficiency in The Princess, not the fact she did not have the demon, but that she could not get intouch with it and realise it - thus experience a 'transfiguration'. As you know 'transfiguration' was all to Lawrence. Just look back to the other stories we read - one comes to mind prominently - 'The Horse-Dealer's Daughter' - that was a case of the woman giving up her will to the man and the two of then experinced this transfiguration. I am not saying this is my idea of one, the will of the woman being reliquished but it was the way Lawrence saw it. He was Adam and he expected Eve to comply and give in to his will. Some might reduce this to the word 'furfillment', and it is that, too, but I think that Lawrence felt it was much more than furfillment - he felt it embraced the great mystery in the union of man and woman. This is the essense of Lawrence, always present in all of his work. Lawrence's sense of 'transfiguration' is as a religious experience, such as being filled with the Holy Ghost. He mentions this quite a bit in "The Plumed Serpent". The two go away quite transformed from the experience. In this stories case , The Princess comes away untouched and uneffected and her virginity is said to be intact; spiritually it is still intact.
Good idea. Guess what? I am actually cooking a turkey tomorrow - a fresh one was available at our local grocery onsale. Just a 10lb one. I will work on the stuffing tonight and then we will have candied sweets and a few other nice easy things tomorrow - it will be great, even though it will only be my mom and I.Quote:
That's alright. Why don't we wait until after thanksgiving for the next section.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
http://i125.photobucket.com/albums/p...heLiterary.jpg
I hope you don't think I look like this woman! hahaha :lol:
Yes perfectly said!! You are on the ball today. What happened? :p It must be because you're feeling better. Good to hear. Good luck with the turkey. We'll be going to my mother's and we've got an 18+ pound bird. That's huge and there will only be five of us. Plenty of left overs. :DQuote:
Originally Posted by Janine
haha...that is the furthest from the truth. I am not feeling as good, as yesterday; so it must be the extra drugs I took for pain, etc. One of them actually does make me more attentive and focused - odd isn't it? I am slowly becoming a druggie, but I seem to be more clear headed - very odd...:confused: No wonder all those authors were drunkards or on something. This pain pill seems to make me smarter or maybe it just appears that way. I can BS better when uninhibited.:lol:Quote:
Originally Posted by Virgil
Wow, an 18 pounder! I love the left-overs; turkey sandwiches, soup, etc . Well, no doubt we will have them too, so I am not complaining. My sister can eat the dark meat; she likes that best; maybe I can even make turkey soup, I love that. I have the stuff here to make it, too. We will have my chive stuffing - I grew those chives myself and froze them. It is delicious in the stuffing - try it sometime. Chives is a cinch to grow, requires very little care. Even neglecting it won't kill it.
Well, enjoy your day and eat whatever you feel like eatting and have some red wine, too...or is it white, with turkey? We are having pumpkin pie, but not homemade....still it looks rather yummy. I love pumpkin pie, don't you? It is my son's all-time favorite.