D.H. Lawrence's Short Stories Thread

[Virgil]

Why did Lawrence write so much about infidelity? I do know Connie in Lady Chatterley's Love is very hesitant to become the lover of Mellors. She's encouraged by her husband and doesn't want the affair (for want of a better word). Not at first.

He wrote about infidelity in his short stories, too. Was he just exploring human nature and the problems we have with love? I can understand that.

I'm not sure that he does. I'm thinking through his major novels: no infidelity in Sons and Lovers (although I think Clara has been separated from her husband), none in The Rainbow, I can't recall any in Women In Love, and of course in Lady Chatterly there is. I guess there's some in the short stories, but it doesn't exactly stand out to me either.

This confused me a bit, as I was not sure just what it is she thought would frighten Kate.

Yeah, me too. Was it that she was in bed?

A moment ago Severn was gripped by hatred for womankind becasue of Mrs. Thomas's treatment of Kate, but now he is once more joining in with her, in making fun of someone else.

That jocular nature of Severn is his key characteristic it seems.

This reminds me of the lamp incident in the last story. Where to me there seems to be a thin vauge line between accident and intention.

That is a central tenet in many of Lawrence's work. He seems to believe the subconscious is way more active than we know (a bunch of psychobabble crap, if you ask me ) and that it is free to go to things we repress in the conscious mind.

It is interesting that Mr. Thomas, does blame Severn for having done it on purpose, and though it seems that in fact he had accidently slipped all the while he was cotemplating doing the very thing that happened.

In a way, he did do it on purpose.

I felt that the age difference between the two men, Mr. Thomas being the elder, with Severn being a young man played some role in the fight, particuarly with the ideas of "primal" man. As the fight in someways made me think of pack animals, in which young males will try and establish themselves as the leaders by making a challange to the older males within the pack, the alphas, to try and establish dominence for thesmelves, becasue as the young grow older, they become restless feeling they have a lesser rank, and having to take orders.

Good point, the bucking young male trying to take over leadership of the pack.

Quote:
Why did Lawrence write so much about infidelity?

I don't know except to think that so much was born out of his own family situation and his parents who were so at odds with each other, so different. I think Lawrence was a very keen observer of life around him; he was highly sensitive to individuals and could read far below the surface of a person. I think he is extraordinary delving into the minds of women, especially. Yes, Lady Chatterly does not go off with Mellors suddenly, she is slowly attracted to him; she struggles with this attraction; then with breaking away from her husband. I think basically, Lawrence writes about human struggle; all of his stories are filled with that struggle and elements of opposition, even within a person. I can see how Lawrence would have related to that struggle.

Why do some authors write about murders? They are not murderers themselves. I think authors try to teach us by showing us the wrong things people do or their reactions that go astray or their bad decisions; in this way, we come to the conclusion that the characters could have acted more appropriately. Therefore, we come to the conclusion that life could be better and we could make it so.

I agree with both of Janine's points. Let me phrase it my way. First, one of the key events in Lawrence's life is his wooing of Frieda, who was a married woman, with children no less. And writers write mostly on what they know, so Lawrence must have thought about his experience much. Second, as poetry is charged language (I've said that elsewhere in several places) fiction is charged narrative. A poet needs to take the language beyond the mundane to make it interesting; a fiction writer needs to take narrative beyond the mundane to make that interesting. To write about our daily activities doesn't usually amount to anything interesting. So writers will write about war, an intense love affair, a murder, a dysfunctional family, and infidelity. These are things that raise the interest of readers because they are intense and they are not mundane.

Short answer, since I was suppose to be refraining from posting on the story.

You can't keep away from Lawrence. It's like a moth attracted by a fire.

[Dark Muse]

I could not get this site to work for me all day, untill just now

[Virgil]

I could not get this site to work for me all day, untill just now

Me too.

[Janine]

Quote by Virgil:

You can't keep away from Lawrence. It's like a moth attracted by a fire.

Virgil, 'flame' and that is not a lot of psychobable!

DM, I could not get on either - the site was down for certain all day. ; so I went on Amazon and spent some money! yay!

I actually got my floor all vacumned today! Hurray, I should turn off the computer more often.

[Virgil]

I think writers often write about mundane things, though, Virgil. Don't you? Not all, but some.

Well, they have to make it interesting. How mudane do you mean? I've never cared for pure slice of life stuff. No one cares that I got up in the morning, showered, went to work, and came home to futz around lit net. That's a slice of life. Ultimately those slice of life pieces depend on some sort of internal psychological drama. What is it that Tolstoy says: All happy families are alike; all unhappy families are unhappy in their own way. You can't just easily write a slice of life of a happy family, but now a dysfunctional family - how easy is that.

[Janine]

Well, they have to make it interesting. How mudane do you mean? I've never cared for pure slice of life stuff. No one cares that I got up in the morning, showered, went to work, and came home to futz around lit net. That's a slice of life. Ultimately those slice of life pieces depend on some sort of internal psychological drama. What is it that Tolstoy says: All happy families are alike; all unhappy families are unhappy in their own way. You can't just easily write a slice of life of a happy family, but now a dysfunctional family - how easy is that.

Mine would fit the bill! hahaha They thrive on being disfunctional!

[Janine]

No, I didn't mean mundane in that way, Virgil. I absolutely can't stand "slice of life," either.

I meant writers don't always write about murders, adultery, secrets, etc.

For example, in "The Old Adam" Lawrence writes about mundane things - a conventional middle class family, a husband who comes home late and enoys a beer, a wife who reads and sews, a young man with little experience in life, an innocent child, a maid who's being fired, and no one really does anything that doesn't occur in households every day, but Lawrence puts his own unique spin on the happenings and it makes the story special. He extracts a universal human truth from the goings on, which aren't that much, really - a romp in the garden, a slip down the stairs in which no one is seriously injured.

I just meant the not all stories, the best stories, in fact, aren't about spectacular things like John Grisham writes about or Dan Brown. The happenings in the best stories aren't going to change the world, but they are things that every human being experiences. We all carry "the old Adam" inside us, we all know loss of some kind, eventually, we all can name a child we love, even if not our own, we're all seaching for something, etc.

I hope that clears it up.

Antiquarian, I agree with all what you said above; I think you wrote that and expressed the idea very well. I do think this an everyday sort of story or observance, which Lawrence's 'puts his own unique spin' on. Much is shown below the surface/between the lines/in the expressions of the characters - perhaps what you term 'subtext', and the ending is not an everyday occurance. I don't think many experience that type of thing occurring in our families, on a daily basis. Anyway, I liked the rest that you wrote very much so; especially about the 'Old Adam' within.

I guess I am in and out of here briefly - like a 'moth to a flame' as Virgil put it.

So what happened to the last bit of text Virgil posted? Is all discussed from that part? I kind of lost track here. I was reading along, but lost the flow again.

Antiquarian and Virgil, I was over in the Shakespeare; the discussion seems to have started today. I still need to relisten to my audiofile of the play, put I did answer a few posts from my memory. That play should be fun.

[Janine]

Thanks, Janine. I appreciate your response.

Thanks, that makes me happy to know. I am still sort of on break. At least Virgil is posting the text!

I don't think all of Lawrence's stories are about the everyday happenings in life. Is it "The Shadow in the Rose Garden" in which a love thought dead is found to be emotionally broken? That's not an experience everyone has, but it is a loss for the woman involved, and we all suffer loss.

No, they really aren't all everyday happenings, so true. Funny you should mention that short story - I just ordered some books from Dover last night - bit sale again and got them each so reasonable that I bought a lot so I would get free shipping. Anyway, one book onsale was some of L's more noted stories - think it is 7; at least this book made the claim they were some of his best. Several we have discussed in here and that one was on the list. I know there was some conjecture to if it was a good story but I personally loved that story. It is funny, a few of the others listed were ones I had considered and thought would be good for later on.

I think part of Lawrence's genius is being able to illuminate what goes on beneath the surface. That's the goal of almost every writer and Lawrence was certainly a genuis at achieving it.

Definitely true. He is noted for that talent of delving far below the surface of situations and interaction between characters and also within characters. His body of work is based on this idea and this complexity of characters. He was a natural genius at being able to achieve this - so true. He paved the way for many new authors and broke a lot of ground, not only in censorship, but also in the way he observed and wrote what is really going on within people and their minds.

I haven't been in the Shakespeare forum for a few days. In fact, I still have to read the play again. Or at least start. A lot of good discussion coming up - Chekhov, Shakespeare, hopefully The Road and The Sea. Maybe it's right to take a break from the Lawrence thread for awhile this summer, but we don't want to abandon it! Lawrence was far too great a writer for that. His stories are beautifully written and I still need to read at least The Rainbow and Women in Love.

Don't worry, it is probably moving slowly in Shakespeare. I have to listen to Act I tonight. Yes, many good discussions and summer is a good time for a break. No, I won't let the thread die out, if I can help it. I invested too many hours in this thread and much research. I need to copy all that to an offline file. It is all so 'invaluable', in my estimate - our past discussions.

Anti, I actually read "The Rainbow' after reading "Women in Love", but soon I hope to re-read "The Rainbow; I re-read now S&L, WIL, and several of the Novellas. Time to re-read "The Rainbow" I think. Do you own a copy of WIL? There is now listed on Amazon; a reasonable paperback. I wanted that one, but it was expensive back awhile ago and then not available, so I had to settle for a different edition. This one is the best, I think. It has a photo on the front of two woman, just showing their frocks/sort of black and white painting.

[Virgil]

No, I didn't mean mundane in that way, Virgil. I absolutely can't stand "slice of life," either.

I meant writers don't always write about murders, adultery, secrets, etc.

For example, in "The Old Adam" Lawrence writes about mundane things - a conventional middle class family, a husband who comes home late and enoys a beer, a wife who reads and sews, a young man with little experience in life, an innocent child, a maid who's being fired, and no one really does anything that doesn't occur in households every day, but Lawrence puts his own unique spin on the happenings and it makes the story special. He extracts a universal human truth from the goings on, which aren't that much, really - a romp in the garden, a slip down the stairs in which no one is seriously injured.

I just meant the not all stories, the best stories, in fact, aren't about spectacular things like John Grisham writes about or Dan Brown. The happenings in the best stories aren't going to change the world, but they are things that every human being experiences. We all carry "the old Adam" inside us, we all know loss of some kind, eventually, we all can name a child we love, even if not our own, we're all seaching for something, etc.

I hope that clears it up.

Oh absolutely. I was only listing the tried and retried methods by authors. Those have become genres of their own. Originaity in thinking up a new story situation is what makes a original work. My point was that one needs an experience that is intense, something that makes a story. Think of some of the premises of some great novels: Moby Dick, The Scarlet Letter, Portrait of a Lady, The Great Gatsby, The Sun Also Rises. Some of them are original but some are still tried and true. Like I said, if one does write on something mundane like in "The Old Adam" it has to rely on a psycological twist to make it interesting. If this was strictly a story about a young man dropping a trunk on an older man, well then who cares. But if there is a psychological battle underneath the surface, sexual tension, men trying to out masculine each other, then it makes for a story.

I guess I am in and out of here briefly - like a 'moth to a flame' as Virgil put it.

Seems like more in than out. Is that flame hot?

So what happened to the last bit of text Virgil posted? Is all discussed from that part? I kind of lost track here. I was reading along, but lost the flow again.

Oh goodness. Last night the forum was down. Patience. I'll post the next in a few minutes. God, you can never keep the people happy in the peanut gallery.

Antiquarian and Virgil, I was over in the Shakespeare; the discussion seems to have started today. I still need to relisten to my audiofile of the play, put I did answer a few posts from my memory. That play should be fun.

I'll probably start Winter's Tale over the weekend.

[Janine]

Seems like more in than out. Is that flame hot?

Now that I took a step back it is real hot!

Maybe sometimes we can't see the forest for the trees.


Thundering here - might have to shut down for the evening. oh well.....then the flame will be temporarily extinquished.

[Virgil]

In response to the pestering from the peanut gallery, I'm posting the next section of the story.

"You ----, you did it on purpose!" he shouted, and straightway he fetched the young man two heavy blows, upon the jaw and ear. Thomas, a footballer and a boxer in his youth, had been brought up among the roughs of Swansea; Severn in a religious college in France. The young man had never been struck in the face before. He instantly went white and mad with rage. Thomas stood on guard, fists up. But on the small, lumbered landing there was no room for fight. Moreover, Severn had no instinct of fisticuffs. With open, stiff fingers, the young man sprang on his adversary. In spite of the blow he received, but did not feel, he flung himself again forward, and then, catching Thomas's collar, brought him down with a crash. Instantly his exquisite hands were dug in the other's thick throat, the linen collar having been torn open. Thomas fought madly, with blind, brute strength. But the other lay wrapped on him like a white steel, his rare intelligence concentrated, not scattered; concentrated on strangling Thomas swiftly. He pressed forward, forcing his landlord's head over the edge of the next flight of stairs. Thomas, stout and full-blooded, lost every trace of self-possession; he struggled like an animal at slaughter. The blood came out of his nose over his face; he made horrid choking sounds as he struggled.

Suddenly Severn felt his face turned between two hands. With a shock of real agony, he met the eyes of Kate. She bent forward, she captured his eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" she cried in frenzy of indignation. She leaned over him in her night-dress, her two black plaits hanging perpendicular. He hid his face, and took his hands away. As he kneeled to rise, he glanced up the stairs. Mrs. Thomas stood against the banisters, motionless in a trance of horror and remorse. He saw the remorse plainly. Severn turned away his face, and was wild with shame. He saw his landlord kneeling, his hands at his throat, choking, rattling, and gasping. The young man's heart filled with remorse and grief. He put his arms round the heavy man, and raised him, saying tenderly:

"Let me help you up."

He had got Thomas up against the wall, when the choked man began to slide down again in collapse, gasping all the time pitifully.

"No, stand up; you're best standing up," commanded Severn sharply, rearing his landlord up again. Thomas managed to obey, stupidly. His nose still bled, he still held his throat and gasped with a crowing sound. But his breathing was getting deeper.

"Water, Kate--and sponge--cold," said Severn.

Kate was back in an instant. The young man bathed his landlord's face and temples and throat. The bleeding ceased directly, the stout man's breathing became a series of irregular, jerky gasps, like a child that has been sobbing hard. At last he took a long breath, and his breast settled into regular stroke, with little fluttering interruptions. Still holding his hand to his throat, he looked up with dazed, piteous brown eyes, mutely wretched and appealing. He moved his tongue as if to try it, put back his head a little, and moved the muscles of his throat. Then he replaced his hands on the place that ached.

Severn was grief-stricken. He would willingly, at that moment, have given his right hand for the man he had hurt.

Mrs. Thomas, meanwhile, stood on the stairs, watching: for a long time she dared not move, knowing she would sink down. She watched. One of the crises of her life was passing. Full of remorse, she passed over into the bitter land of repentance. She must no longer allow herself to hope for anything for herself. The rest of her life must be spent in self-abnegation: she must seek for no sympathy, must ask for no grace in love, no grace and harmony in living. Henceforward, as far as her own desires went, she was dead. She took a fierce joy in the anguish of it.

"Do you feel better?" Severn asked of the sick man. Thomas looked at the questioner with tragic brown eyes, in which was no anger, only mute self-pity. He did not answer, but looked like a wounded animal, very pitiable. Mrs. Thomas quickly repressed an impulse of impatient scorn, replacing it with a numb, abstract sense of duty, lofty and cold.

Well, the fight, as most fight scenes, is comic. This is particularly funny, even slapstick:

The young man had never been struck in the face before. He instantly went white and mad with rage. Thomas stood on guard, fists up. But on the small, lumbered landing there was no room for fight. Moreover, Severn had no instinct of fisticuffs. With open, stiff fingers, the young man sprang on his adversary. In spite of the blow he received, but did not feel, he flung himself again forward, and then, catching Thomas's collar, brought him down with a crash. Instantly his exquisite hands were dug in the other's thick throat, the linen collar having been torn open.

James Bond or Sam Spade they're not. But Severn by chance it seems comes out on top, and then he meets Kate:

Suddenly Severn felt his face turned between two hands. With a shock of real agony, he met the eyes of Kate. She bent forward, she captured his eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" she cried in frenzy of indignation. She leaned over him in her night-dress, her two black plaits hanging perpendicular. He hid his face, and took his hands away.

I can understand her being shocked, but why indignation? And what exactly are "two black plaits hanging perpendicular?" Given that she's in her night dress, I can't help thinking it's her breasts. But I guess it's clothing or her hair? And then we get Mrs Thomas who is shocked at the fight and actually paralized from responding:

As he kneeled to rise, he glanced up the stairs. Mrs. Thomas stood against the banisters, motionless in a trance of horror and remorse. He saw the remorse plainly.

I can understand why Severn is remorseful, but why Mrs. Thomas? The only thing I can think of is that subconsciously she too wished this to happen. What do you guys think on that point? I can't remember anything specific where she wished her husband harm, but I do think she was antogonistic toward him. And then Lawrence expands on Mrs. Thomas's remorse:

Mrs. Thomas, meanwhile, stood on the stairs, watching: for a long time she dared not move, knowing she would sink down. She watched. One of the crises of her life was passing. Full of remorse, she passed over into the bitter land of repentance. She must no longer allow herself to hope for anything for herself. The rest of her life must be spent in self-abnegation: she must seek for no sympathy, must ask for no grace in love, no grace and harmony in living. Henceforward, as far as her own desires went, she was dead. She took a fierce joy in the anguish of it.

Again repentance for what? She didn't drop the trunk. Lawrence even raises whatever she's guilty of to a level of a major sin: "The rest of her life must be spent in self-abnegation: she must seek for no sympathy, must ask for no grace in love, no grace and harmony in living. Henceforward, as far as her own desires went, she was dead." So what exactly did she do to reach this level of guilt? Her sexual desire for Severn? Her secret desire to punish her husband? I don't know. Frankly whatever I think it's too much of a stretch, even for those that believe in the psychobabble. And one more reaction from Mrs. Thomas:

"Do you feel better?" Severn asked of the sick man. Thomas looked at the questioner with tragic brown eyes, in which was no anger, only mute self-pity. He did not answer, but looked like a wounded animal, very pitiable. Mrs. Thomas quickly repressed an impulse of impatient scorn, replacing it with a numb, abstract sense of duty, lofty and cold.

Is the scorn directed at Severn or her husband ? I think it's for Severn, as we see in the paragraphs ahead. It's interesting to see the transition of Mrs. Thomas's reactons to the fight and the aftermath.

[Quark]

In response to the pestering from the peanut gallery, I'm posting the next section of the story.

Thanks, Virgil. I was wondering how I was going to get back into the conversation.

Given that she's in her night dress, I can't help thinking it's her breasts. But I guess it's clothing or her hair?

Plaits = boobs? I don't think so. It's her hair. Now that's clear, I have to go over to the Aenead thread and respond to your comments on Book VI and female genitalia.

I can understand why Severn is remorseful, but why Mrs. Thomas? The only thing I can think of is that subconsciously she too wished this to happen. What do you guys think on that point?

She's been stringing along this other guy who she no intentions of accepting. If she had been straight-forward with Severn, none of this would have happened. That's why she reacts that way to the fight. I think it may be an overreaction, but it's clear that's why she reacts that way.

Is the scorn directed at Severn or her husband ? I think it's for Severn, as we see in the paragraphs ahead. It's interesting to see the transition of Mrs. Thomas's reactons to the fight and the aftermath.

It's pointed at her husband. Gertie is aware of how poorly her husband has acted through this episode, and she's feels contempt for him.

[Janine]

Oh, no the moth is back. I can't resist answering this part. You are so funny, Virgil!

t exactly are "two black plaits hanging perpendicular?" Given that she's in her night dress, I can't help thinking it's her breasts. But I guess it's clothing or her hair? And then we get Mrs Thomas who is shocked at the fight and actually paralized from responding:

Plaits are braids in the hair silly - like two braided pigtails - no not breats! What are we going to do with you Virgil? You men don't know anything about women! :lol; Many women braided their hair to retire to bed, if their hair was long. I thought the 'two black braids hanging perpendicular" really made that part more humorous, amusing. I think at that point I laughed out loud.

I thought her repentence was for egging Severn on and especially that remark during the thunderstorm - the one that made him wake up and take notice and wonder about. Then too at the table when Mr.Thomas came home she was obviously siding with Severn or trying to. I guess she would have remorse for suggesting something sexual towards Severn and also for being snide when her husband was telling his story about being praised at his meeting.

Actually, I prefer to be called the butterfly! Moths are so ordinaray and they eat wool clothes.

[Dark Muse]

Well, the fight, as most fight scenes, is comic. This is particularly funny, even slapstick

Yes the fight was quite amusing

I can understand her being shocked, but why indignation?

I think perhaps she might feel indignation over the fact that these two grown men are behaving like children, and perhaps a part of her feels Severn at least should no better, as it was established that this sort of thing is out of his character, and he is more of the intellectual and the "civilized"

I can understand why Severn is remorseful, but why Mrs. Thomas? The only thing I can think of is that subconsciously she too wished this to happen. What do you guys think on that point? I can't remember anything specific where she wished her husband harm, but I do think she was antagonistic toward him. And then Lawrence expands on Mrs. Thomas's remorse:

I felt that after seeing the fight, and seeing Mr. Thomas physically injured, caused within her feelings of guilt for her own treatment of her husband, and perhaps for the way she acted with Severn. It was perhaps a slap in the face to her, to actually see the joking physically manifested in this form.

Again repentance for what? She didn't drop the trunk. Lawrence even raises whatever she's guilty of to a level of a major sin: "The rest of her life must be spent in self-abnegation: she must seek for no sympathy, must ask for no grace in love, no grace and harmony in living. Henceforward, as far as her own desires went, she was dead." So what exactly did she do to reach this level of guilt? Her sexual desire for Severn? Her secret desire to punish her husband?

I felt that it was referring to some desire she had for Severn and her preference for him over her own husband. When I had first read this scene, I felt almost as if perhaps at least subconsciously both Severn and Mrs. Thomas, had this ideal that if something were to happen to Mr. Thomas, the two of them would just live happily ever after more or less, though when the possibility was actually played out with the potential for Mr. Thomas to have been seriously hurt, it came as too much of a shock to Mrs. Thomas.

And I think it was just not possible for Mrs. Thomas to have any kind of relationship with both men. For her she had to choose one or the other, and previously she had tried to live in both worlds more or less, but in the end, she choose to sacrifice herself by severing her tie with Severn and giving her devotion to her husband.

[Virgil]

Virgil is commenting on female genitalia somewhere on this board?

Unfortunately yes. On the Aeneid thread.

I don’t agree with Quark that Mrs. Thomas has been stringing Severn along, though I do think the two were attracted to each other, possibly with primitive animalistic passion, during the thunderstorm.

I agree with Anti. Whatever sexual tension was going on appears to be a momentary thing. At least we get no indication of something going on for a longer term.

I also don’t think she subconsciously wanted the accident to happen (and I do think some things are just accidents, I don’t subscribe to the Freudian poppycock that “there are no accidents,” sure there are), however I do agree with Virgil that she’d been so antagonistic towards Joe that evening, she would feel remorseful.

I admit we have no indication of a subconscious desire to hurt her husband. I was just specualting.

I don’t know what Lawrence had in mind, what he felt was going through the minds of his characters, but I didn’t see Mrs. Thomas do anything that required this level of repentance. Perhaps I just missed it. It wouldn’t be the first time. LOL

Actually I had not noticed Mrs. Thomas's reaction in my other reads. Only now do I see this and I wonder too what is going on. She has nothing to be guilty of, certainly not on the surface of things. One would have to believe that Lawrence meant for something to be going on in her subconscious.

I didn’t feel Joe acted that poorly, given what had happened. I think I may be the only one who actually likes Joe.

Joe's reaction is quite understandable, both on the surface (someone dropping a trunk on your head) and on the subconscious level (someone having desires on your wife). I like Joe. I dubbed him affectionately the neanderthal.

Can you believe the men, Janine? Not even knowing that plaits are braids? LOL I laughed at this part, too. It’s very funny. I agree.

Did you laugh at me not knowing they were braids or me thinking they were breasts.

I thought her repentance was for the way she’d treated Severn earlier in the evening, too. And for the way she’s treated Joe. It seemed like she was trying to pit the men against each other. Stir the pot, then stand back and see what boils over. I agree that she feels bad for that. Maybe Lawrence wanted to redeem her in our eyes? I don’t know.

That could be, though her guilt seems way beyond that transaction.

I didn’t feel the attraction was ever more than momentary, so I don’t feel that Gertie and Edward ever felt they could live happily ever after if something were to happen to Joe, but I do think Gertie got a lot of amusement out of baiting the two men and now feels very remorseful about it.

I agree.