Quote:
And on 10 August, he and Frieda sailed on the Tahiti for San Francisco, touching at Wellington, New Zealand; at Avatiu, Raratonga; and at Papeete, Tahiti. From Welington he sent a friendly postcard to Katherine Mansfield, with a one word message, 'Ricordi', to break their years of silence. Only a day earlier, Katherine Mansfield, on the point of leaving Switzerland for London, had made her will and had named Lawrence among those of her friends who were to receive small remembrances. Aaron's Rod had roused her admiration for the writer so that she could forgive the man. Reading it in July, and coming across an old story of Lawrence's, 'The Shadow in the Rose Garden' (from The Prussian Officer), she had spoken of these in two letters to Koteliansky. Lawrence's 'Rose Garden' story was 'one of the weakest he ever wrote', yet it was 'so utterly different from all the rest' in a collection of modern stories that she read it 'with joy. When he mentions gooseberries these are real red, ripe gooseberries that the gardener is rolling on a tray. When he bites into an apple it is a sharp, sweet, fresh apple from the growing tree.' And the faults of Aaron's Rod, she thought, were minor: the book lived, and it was a relief to read it after 'all these pre-digested books written by authors who have nothing to say!' She could not agree with much of what Lawrence said, and his ideas of sex were meaningless to her, 'but I feel nearer to L, than anyone else. All these last months I have thought as he does about many things.' Indeed, these two writers had similarities in their physical vision, as a close examination of their prose will show: in an age of journalese and of pallid stereotypes, they both wrote in a style that was concrete, sharp-coloured, and kinetic, each of them with a distinct personal cadence. (In the July 1954 issue of Essays in Criticism, Robert Liddell wrote: 'Katherine Mansfield said somewhere that there were three Lawrences: the black devil, whom she hated; the prohet, in whom she did not believe; and the man and artist whom she loved and valued. Now that is it twenty-four years since he died, can we not rid ourselves of the devil and the prophet - for whom there is no future - and find the man and the artist, who is immortal?')
I did think this an interesting passage. Obviously, the author Katherine Mansfield saw the brilliance in this story, from a realistic and artistic viewpoint. Frieda was Lawrence's wife. They traveled extensely after leaving England. At the time this story was written, I believe they were residing in Cornwall in a cottage near the sea and were indeed quite reclusive. The quotes are merely opinions set forth by Katherine Mansfield, who was a good friend to Lawrence.