D.H. Lawrence's Short Stories Thread

[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¬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 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. 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.

[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. 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.

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!

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!

[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!

You mean the scent degenerates in NY? Hahaha.

Here are some Mums of various colors for those who don't know what they are.

[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/nov...th-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?