D.H.Lawrence ~ The Tortoise Poems

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Eileen wu

The discussion about the Tortoise poem is really wonderful! I'm hoping for more about D.H.Lawrence's animal poems. Thank you!
Eileen

---

Hi Eileen, so glad to see a new face here. The T poem discussions were put 'on hold' since one person needed a break and then a break sounded good to the other participants at the time. I think we were still on the poem - TORTOISE FAMILY CONNECTIONS - when we abandoned it and we should continue with that I believe; what do you think, Virgil? It is a good poem. I think there are a few more Tortoise poems in the series and as you said other animal poems, these would be of great interest, as well. Thank you, for your compliments on our discussion. It was so much fun - these poems were more interesting than I first perceived them to be. I can't wait to discuss more of them.

I hope that you stay around - there are other discussions on D.H. Lawrence presently going on - or will be soon - Lawrence Short Stories will start up again in October - again... everyone needed a short break. Several of us plan on reading "Sons and Lovers" and discussing it - possibly in October, also, or if not then, in Novemeber. I am a big enthusiast of Lawrence's - you could not tell, right? ;) Virgil shares this mutual interest. We recently did read/discuss in depth Lawrence's fine novel "Women in Love". You might be interested in checking out that thread - it may be a few pages back since it is not active presently. It was a fine discussion.

Bye the way - welcome to Literature Network Forums! You will love the place I am sure. Everyone is so nice here and friendly and helpful.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Janine

We will be discussing D.H.Lawrence's Tortoise poems. I have posted the first of several poems. Each is uniquely distinct in their themes, ideas, symbolism, etc. This first poem deals with the birth of a baby tortoise, now being quite alone, in it's first days of life, and it's remarkable struggle to survive on earth. Wonderful poem and wonderful imagery!

---

This is really one of the poems I am really moved by, and unquestionably Lawrence is a poet of great quality. He is a man of the flesh and of the blood, and what I really appreciate of him is the way he can enter the very spirit of the thing he writes about.

I really get swayed by his poems and in fact get lost in a world of him, and engrossingly indeed. I read yesterday his two poems Piano and the Baby Tortoise. About Piano I have already wrote about the comment of it.

When I read this poem I felt the poet entered the tortoise or he got possessed of the tortoise.

And reading your predilection for him really moved me.

Thank you for being so helpful in understanding the tortoise poems. Surely I'll
stay around and hopefully I can join in your discussion sometime I have more questions than comments . You know I need do more reading about D. H. Lawrence,my favourite poet.
Eileen

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by blazeofglory

This is really one of the poems I am really moved by, and unquestionably Lawrence is a poet of great quality. He is a man of the flesh and of the blood, and what I really appreciate of him is the way he can enter the very spirit of the thing he writes about.

I really get swayed by his poems and in fact get lost in a world of him, and engrossingly indeed. I read yesterday his two poems Piano and the Baby Tortoise. About Piano I have already wrote about the comment of it.

When I read this poem I felt the poet entered the tortoise or he got possessed of the tortoise.

And reading your predilection for him really moved me.

---

Hi blazeofglory, Yes, this is a truly great poem. When I first read it I did not know just how much so and now I love 'Baby Tortoise'; we had a good discussion on that poem. Then with the next poem, which points out the significance of the patterns on the turtle's shell, we were able to bring up a world of possibilities for discussion. 'Baby Tortoise' is very 'touching' and made me think of Lawrence's own life struggles...the idea of 'an against all odds survival'. I felt also that Lawrence got right into the shell and this little being (the newly hatched turtle) and absolutely shared his feelings while describing him and his struggle for life. This is what makes the poem so great - it is so personal to Lawrence.
blaze, I did read your insightful comments on the Piano poem. I will post a comment myself there soon.

Hello again Eileen, You are quite welcome for any help we have provided or insight. I love Lawrence and he is my favorite author or at least one of them. I have read nearly all he has written, but I need to read all of his poems. I love some of them very much so. I am glad you plan to stay around for more discussions and feel free always to ask questions. This is how we all learn, isn't it? It is good to have you aboard! :)

Posting in here now to assure this thread stays open. Lately I have been thinking about this thread and wanted to revive it. There are more of the Tortoise poems to discuss. Anytime is great with me. I will try posting the next one soon.

What ever happened to KTD? She was such a nice young lady. I noticed she hasn't been on since early March. I miss her. :(

This sounds like it could be interesting, I might have to peek around this thread

DM, glad to see you here and taking an interest. These poems make for really interesting discussions; you should check back and read some. I think there are 8 in the set Lawrence wrote, but don't quote me on that. I know that each one represents a different period in life - such as infant, child, adolescent and so forth. I forget just how many we have discussed so far; I will have to check on that.

Yes, Virgil, a long while back she just announced she was taking a break and she never returned. I guess she got bored discussing these poems but I found them fascinating. It was her idea to begin with, remember. I imagine that people do get busy with real life.

Hehe I am just glad you are not tired of seeing me around yet :D

You kidding? I got used to you and your weird sense of humor, DM. Besides we made a good Lawrence follower out of you. Now I find your quirpy tastes amusing and we get along fine; maybe we even bonded after some strange occurances awhile back where others were chomping at the bit in another L thread; I am sure you get my drift ;) At anyrate, I think these poems are worthy of our attention and reviving them. Give me a day or so to decide where we left off.

Hehe yes, we do not always agree but we do get along

DM, that sounds like the lyric to a song...hehehe.

Hehe..

I think we finally learned to laugh our differences off, don't you?

I do like to argue, but I never really took any of it seriously or personally

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Dark Muse

I do like to argue, but I never really took any of it seriously or personally

---

That is the spirit; real fair sportsmanship. It is getting late again, DM, I think I am fading and will call it a night.:yawnb:I am sitting here with one eye closed.;) Nighty night!

Goodnight

I am reposting this for all our benefit:

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Virgil
I did a little reseach on Lawrence's Tortoise poems and I wanted to share it with you. The Tortoise poems are a sequence of six poems that Lawrence wrote and first published as a small bookl called Tortoise (1921) and then incoproated into a much larger book of poems called Birds, Beasts and Flowers (1923). The Tortoise poems were actually written in September of 1920 while Lawrence was staying alone in Florence, Italy. The six poems are called "Baby Tortoise," "Tortoise Shell," "Tortoise Family Connections," "Lui Et Elle," "Tortoise Gallantry," and "Tortoise Shout." The movement of the poems goes from birth to adulthood to death. Thy span the life cycle.

---

Ok, I just researched back to the last poem we did. It was "Tortoise Family Connections." So now I see that there are 3 more poems left that we had not yet discussed. We can start with "Lui Et Elle," but it might benefit us all to review the others that preceeded this poem, by simply reading them. I will make a more formal announcement that this is the poem to be discussed. What do you think everyone?

Perhaps we should do the next one now Janine. It might make sense to get one under our belt before we do a short story. I doubt ktd is coming back shortly, if at all. Were we going in poem sequence or were you selecting them at random?

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Virgil

Perhaps we should do the next one now Janine. It might make sense to get one under our belt before we do a short story. I doubt ktd is coming back shortly, if at all. Were we going in poem sequence or were you selecting them at random?

---

Virgil, Yes, I think we can assume that ktd is not coming back; is she even on the forum lately? I haven't seen her for ages. So what do you mean when you say - were we going in poem sequence or were we you selecting them at random? I was picking the next poem in the Tortoise sequence entitled "Lui Et Elle."

I already posted in the LSS thread that we would start the story on Monday. You still want me to pick one, right? Also, we have a new comer there; that is great news.

How bout we start this poem on Monday, also? I will formally announce it then. We can flip back and forth between the two threads, can't we? We don't have to post everyday either, not in this one, anyway.

Sounds good. Monday is perfect.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Virgil

Sounds good. Monday is perfect.

---

Good! I just read the poem online. It is a long one; so I will post it in its entirity and then later in segments as we go along. I have a first impression about the poem already. Do you know, Virgil, what the title translates to from the French? You can find the poem here - http://www.poetry-archive.com/l/lui_et_elle.html


Here is the entire poem:

LUI ET ELLE
by: D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930)

SHE is large and matronly
And rather dirty,
A little sardonic-looking, as if domesticity had driven her to it.
Though what she does, except lay four eggs at random in the garden once a year
And put up with her husband,
I don't know.

She likes to eat.
She hurries up, striding reared on long uncanny legs,
When food is going.
Oh yes, she can make haste when she likes.

She snaps the soft bread from my hand in great mouthfuls,
Opening her rather pretty wedge of an iron, pristine face
Into an enormously wide-beaked mouth
Like sudden curved scissors,
And gulping at more than she can swallow, and working her thick, soft tongue,
And having the bread hanging over her chin.

O Mistress, Mistress,
Reptile mistress,
Your eye is very dark, very bright,
And it never softens
Although you watch.

She knows,
She knows well enough to come for food,
Yet she sees me not;
Her bright eye sees, but not me, not anything,
Sightful, sightless, seeing and visionless,
Reptile mistress.

Taking bread in her curved, gaping, toothless mouth,
She has no qualm when she catches my finger in her steel overlapping gums,
But she hangs on, and my shout and my shrinking are nothing to her,
She does not even know she is nipping me with her curved beak.
Snake-like she draws at my finger, while I drag it in horror away.

Mistress, reptile mistress,
You are almost too large, I am almost frightened.
He is much smaller,
Dapper beside her,
And ridiculously small.

Her laconic eye has an earthy, materialistic look,
His, poor darling, is almost fiery.
His wimple, his blunt-prowed face,
His low forehead, his skinny neck, his long, scaled, striving legs,
So striving, striving,
Are all more delicate than she,

And he has a cruel scar on his shell.
Poor darling, biting at her feet,
Running beside her like a dog, biting her earthy, splay feet,
Nipping her ankles,
Which she drags apathetic away, though without retreating into her shell.
Agelessly silent,
And with a grim, reptile determination,
Cold, voiceless age-after-age behind him, serpents' long obstinacy
Of horizontal persistence.

Little old man
Scuffling beside her, bending down, catching his opportunity,
Parting his steel-trap face, so suddenly, and seizing her scaly ankle,
And hanging grimly on,
Letting go at last as she drags away,
And closing his steel-trap face.
His steel-trap, stoic, ageless, handsome face.
Alas, what a fool he looks in this scuffle.
And how he feels it!

The lonely rambler, the stoic, dignified stalker through chaos,
The immune, the animate,
Enveloped in isolation,
Forerunner.

Now look at him!
Alas, the spear is through the side of his isolation.
His adolescence saw him crucified into sex,
Doomed, in the long crucifixion of desire, to seek his consummation beyond himself.
Divided into passionate duality,
He, so finished and immune, now broken into desirous fragmentariness,
Doomed to make an intolerable fool of himself
In his effort toward completion again.

Poor little earthy house-inhabiting Osiris,
The mysterious bull tore him at adolescence into pieces,
And he must struggle after reconstruction, ignominiously.
And so behold him following the tail
Of that mud-hovel of his slowly-rambling spouse,
Like some unhappy bull at the tail of a cow,
But with more than bovine, grim, earth-dank persistence,

Suddenly seizing the ugly ankle as she stretches out to walk,
Roaming over the sods,
Or, if it happen to show, at her pointed, heavy tail
Beneath the low-dropping back-board of her shell.
Their two shells like doomed boats bumping,
Hers huge, his small;
Their splay feet rambling and rowing like paddles,
And stumbling mixed up in one another,
In the race of love--
Two tortoises,
She huge, he small.

She seems earthily apathetic,
And he has a reptile's awful persistence.
I heard a woman pitying her, pitying the Mère Tortue.
While I, I pity Monsieur.

"He pesters her and torments her," said the woman.
How much more is he pestered and tormented, say I.
What can he do?
He is dumb, he is visionless,
Conceptionless.

His black, sad-lidded eye sees but beholds not
As her earthen mound moves on,
But he catches the folds of vulnerable, leathery skin,
Nail-studded, that shake beneath her shell,
And drags at these with his beak,
Drags and drags and bites,
While she pulls herself free, and rows her dull mound along.

"Lui et Elle" is reprinted from Tortoises. D.H. Lawrence. New York: Thomas Seltzer, 1921.

Just finished reading the poem and I quite liked it.

Oh good. Suggestion: you could jot down some notes on passages and what they meant to you or how you interpretted them, anything really - maybe just passages you particularly liked.

Thanks for the suggestion. I will keep that in mind and maybe take another look at the poem. I know there were a few things I really liked

Then you will be better prepared when the discussion begins. I think since the poem is a long one, I will post segments of it like we do in the short stories, what do you think?

I think I have to unplug now - thunderstorms once again, darn it!

This is the first section to discuss the Tortoise poem:

LUI ET ELLE

by: D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930)

SHE is large and matronly
And rather dirty,
A little sardonic-looking, as if domesticity had driven her to it.

Though what she does, except lay four eggs at random in the garden once a year
And put up with her husband,
I don't know.

She likes to eat.
She hurries up, striding reared on long uncanny legs,
When food is going.
Oh yes, she can make haste when she likes.

She snaps the soft bread from my hand in great mouthfuls,
Opening her rather pretty wedge of an iron, pristine face
Into an enormously wide-beaked mouth
Like sudden curved scissors,
And gulping at more than she can swallow, and working her thick, soft tongue,
And having the bread hanging over her chin.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Janine

Then you will be better prepared when the discussion begins. I think since the poem is a long one, I will post segments of it like we do in the short stories, what do you think?

I think I have to unplug now - thunderstorms once again, darn it!

---

I think that sounds like a good idea

First of all, I have to say that over all I found the poem to be quite funny in a lot of ways.

Quote:

---

SHE is large and matronly
And rather dirty,
A little sardonic-looking, as if domesticity had driven her to it.

Though what she does, except lay four eggs at random in the garden once a year
And put up with her husband,
I don't know.

---

These lines here make me think of like a middle-aged housewife who is just stuck in the routine, but isn't truly happy of content any longer.

Quote:

---

She snaps the soft bread from my hand in great mouthfuls,
Opening her rather pretty wedge of an iron, pristine face
Into an enormously wide-beaked mouth
Like sudden curved scissors,
And gulping at more than she can swallow, and working her thick, soft tongue,
And having the bread hanging over her chin.

---

I thought these lines were just hystrical, and the discription is so vivid.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Dark Muse

First of all, I have to say that over all I found the poem to be quite funny in a lot of ways.



These lines here make me think of like a middle-aged housewife who is just stuck in the routine, but isn't truly happy of content any longer.




I thought these lines were just hystrical, and the discription is so vivid.

---

Yes, DM, I totally agree with the humor in this poem. In fact, the entire time I was reading this I thought - this is describing Lawrence and his wife Frieda perfectly. At least, I have a feeling he was greatly influenced by their now many yr old marrage. I will have to check out the exact date he wrote this, and see if this is true and indeed, he had been married awhile. One can see that between this tortoise pair the 'marriage bliss' has long since departed.

Wait, is it "HE is large and matronly" or "She is large and matronly"?

It is suppose to be She. The S just got left off in Janine's repost, but the original poem says She

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Dark Muse

It is suppose to be She. The S just got left off in Janine's repost, but the original poem says She

---

Thank God. All of a sdden there I thought Lawrence was into transexualism. :p

Hahahahaha

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Virgil

Thank God. All of a sdden there I thought Lawrence was into transexualism. :p

---

Hahaha:lol: - I did indeed forget the 'S' and just edited and placed it there. Definitely it was "SHE is large and madronly"....hahaha, sounds like Frieda in her late photos, doesn't it? No, don't think L was a transexual although he did write so often of those bright colored stocking; I wonder if he liked them so much he actually did wear them himself when no one was looking? :goof:

Quote:

---

SHE is large and matronly
And rather dirty,
A little sardonic-looking, as if domesticity had driven her to it.

Though what she does, except lay four eggs at random in the garden once a year
And put up with her husband,
I don't know.

---

This last line particularly made me laugh. He could easily be describing his wife, although she did not lay eggs in the garden,:lol: ...rather this part: "And put up with her husband, I don't know." This line is so much of 'Lawrence' laughing at himself. It is certain, from my biographical research and reading, that Freida, his wife, did indeed 'put up' with a lot while living with the restless and tempermental writer.

Quote:

---

She snaps the soft bread from my hand in great mouthfuls,
Opening her rather pretty wedge of an iron, pristine face
Into an enormously wide-beaked mouth
Like sudden curved scissors,
And gulping at more than she can swallow, and working her thick, soft tongue,
And having the bread hanging over her chin.

---

This part is not too attractive a portrait of the female, but still it is amusing/funny. I like the way he refers again to her wide-beaked mouth. He used that in some of the other tortoise poems. He likes to refer to their mouths as 'beak-like", which is kind of strange but primitive as well, tying the bird kingdom into the reptile kingdom in some obscure but Lawrence way. I like the line
"pretty wedge of an iron, pristine face" because it is curious to me how he puts these odd words together and yet comes up with an image and we know exactly what he is getting at. I think he is looking at the female tortoise as a figure of strength in this part of the description in using the word iron; or am I reading this wrong? Is this more of an ironic statement?

The last line "having the bread hanging over her chin" really make me chuckle. It seems humorously playful and not at all judgemental.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Janine

This part is not too attractive a portrait of the female, but still it is amusing/funny. I like the way he refers again to her wide-beaked mouth. He used that in some of the other tortoise poems. He likes to refer to their mouths as 'beak-like", which is kind of strange but primitive as well, tying the bird kingdom into the reptile kingdom in some obscure but Lawrence way.

---

The mouths of turtles are acutally called beaks as well.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Janine

"pretty wedge of an iron, pristine face" because it is curious to me how he puts these odd words together and yet comes up with an image and we know exactly what he is getting at. I think he is looking at the female tortoise as a figure of strength in this part of the description in using the word iron; or am I reading this wrong? Is this more of an ironic statement?

---

I would agree with the allusion to strength here. It made me think of a sort of "hard" woman. Someone with a stern or severe looking face. It made me think of a woman who might be considered more handsome than pretty.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Janine

The last line "having the bread hanging over her chin" really make me chuckle. It seems humorously playful and not at all judgemental.

---

Yes I liked that

Quote:

---

Like sudden curved scissors

---

I also wondered. Were the words scissors here used intentionally becasue they are a domestic, house hold item of which a woman would be given to use?

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Dark Muse

The mouths of turtles are acutally called beaks as well.

---

Ahha...we had wondered about that in the other poems. Thanks for that tidbit of information. I live on a lake with turtles - you would think I would have known that.

DM, you sure are right there on the beam after I post. Glad you noticed and commented.

Quote:

---

I would agree with the allusion to strength here. It made me think of a sort of "hard" woman. Someone with a stern or severe looking face. It made me think of a woman who might be considered more handsome than pretty.

---

Good. I was just getting an impression, so it was a 'guess', but I suppose I was not far off. Again that reminds me of Frieda. I am sure Lawrence was thinking of her and a couple, who had been married for a number of years, when he wrote this.

Quote:

---

Yes I liked that

---

Good.

Quote:

---

I also wondered. Were the words scissors here used intentionally becasue they are a domestic, house hold item of which a woman would be given to use?

---

Yes, that word was interesting, wasn't it? I think I agree with you on this one. Kind of scary - DM, we have been agreeing way too much lately. ;):alien::lol:

Hehe I know it does get frightening when that happens

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Dark Muse

Hehe I know it does get frightening when that happens

---

Yes, very frightening...hummm....but somehow nice, really...are the planets lined up in a strange configuration? I think yours are definitely 'favorable' right now - you seem to have gotten 'inspired' and your creativity is blossoming, DM! I like the new threads you have started lately and the PreRaphaelite discussion group. I must go soon and check the progress there.


Before we move on with the text I think this stanza is so funny - I will explain:

Quote:

---

She likes to eat.
She hurries up, striding reared on long uncanny legs,
When food is going.
Oh yes, she can make haste when she likes.

---

In descriptions by Lawrence of his wife he often pointed out that lines just like this one "she likes to eat." I read the travel books and she he would always talk about her going past a market and wanting to stop to get some exotic food or bread. I had to laugh when I read this line. Lawrence saw his wife like a turtle or vis versa....how funny:lol: The last line is funny too because often his portrayals of Freida made her seem slow and lazy, but as the poem says "Oh yes, she can make haste when she likes." - I can just see Lawrence reading this to his wife and the two of them laughing away.

By the way, I like to eat, so I can relate.