D.H. Lawrence's Short Stories Thread

[Virgil]

humm...I don't agree with you, I think Lawrence knew exactly what he was writing here. He revised his texts enough to know; and by now he was quite an experienced author of stories. I think that her dread and repulsiveness is clearly known to her, before she ventures into the wilderness; she knew it in Italy with the earthy cab drivers. She knew this repulsion then, this disgust. How different then is the raw power of the bob-cat? I think they relate - the men she encountered and shunned in the past and felt she was above and the raw sexuality and wildness of nature and the cat.

That is a good point about the Italian cab driver. There is a pattern of being repulsed it seems. Yes I see the connection, but why is she so willful in wanting to go?

Here again I think this - sometimes something that repulses us can still draw us in and capture our attention. I think back to the bull-fight in "The Plumed Serpent"; although shocking and totally revolting, repulsive; people are drawn to it like fleas. They can't escape this drawing power to see it, even when, at the same time they are repulsed by it. I think the princess suddenly acts in the same way - she is drawn into the dark aspects of the mountains, the mystery of nature; once there, true - she is repulsed.

True, repulsion can draw us in, but usually that's something like a car accident, something one comes across. But she seeks the adventure out. That is an intersting connection you make with Kate's repusion at that bull fight. It seems "repulsion" was something Lawrence was exploring around this time. I never caught that before.

[Dark Muse]

I did find it interesting how in the previous passage it seemed to be primarily all doom and gloom during the trip, talking about the darkness, and the death-like things, and grayness, and then in this passage, there are moments when the light comes back. I am not sure what to make of that.

I think that because she really had no clear idea of just what she wanted, or what she expected, and that she was just acting on some inner instinct, on the whim of her demon as it where, it is why when she actually got to the cabin she seemed suddenly repulsed by it all. She really did not know what she wanted, and she was beginning to grow doubts of herself now that the moment, she had thought she wanted had come upon her.

Being finally truly alone with Romero in the small dark cold little cabin, she suddenly did not know what to do, or what she wanted. She just had some sort of glorified vague notion of what she was after, but she was not fit to actually have to deal with the true reality of it.

I also thought it was interesting the way demoness was mentioned in relation to the wild cat.

[Virgil]

Ok, I know you've been waiting with bated breath for the next section.

"Sit down," she said, "and drink tea."

He poured a little bootleg whisky into the enamel cups, and in the silence the two sat on the log-ends, sipping the hot liquid and coughing occasionally from the smoke.

"We burn these oak sticks," he said. "They don't make hardly any smoke."

Curious and remote he was, saying nothing except what had to be said. And she, for her part, was as remote from him. They seemed far, far apart, worlds apart, now they were so near.

He unwrapped one bundle of bedding, and spread the blankets and the sheepskin in the wooden bunk.

"You lie down and rest," he said, "and I make the supper."

She decided to do so. Wrapping her cloak round her, she lay down in the bunk, turning her face to the wall. She could hear him preparing supper over the little petrol stove. Soon she could smell the soup he was heating; and soon she heard the hissing of fried chicken in a pan.

"You eat your supper now?" he said.

With a jerky, despairing movement, she sat up in the bunk, tossing back her hair. She felt cornered.

"Give it me here," she said.

He handed her first the cupful of soup. She sat among the blankets, eating it slowly. She was hungry. Then he gave her an enamel plate with pieces of fried chicken and currant jelly, butter and bread. It was very good. As they ate the chicken he made the coffee. She said never a word. A certain resentment filled her. She was cornered.

When supper was over he washed the dishes, dried them, and put everything away carefully, else there would have been no room to move in the hole of a cabin. The oak-wood gave out a good bright heat.

He stood for a few moments at a loss. Then he asked her:

"You want to go to bed soon?"

"Soon," she said. "Where are you going to sleep?"

"I make my bed here--" he pointed to the floor along the wall. "Too cold out of doors."

"Yes," she said. "I suppose it is."

She sat immobile, her cheeks hot, full of conflicting thoughts. And she watched him while he folded the blankets on the floor, a sheepskin underneath. Then she went out into night.

The stars were big. Mars sat on the edge of a mountain, for all the world like the blazing eye of a crouching mountain lion. But she herself was deep, deep below in a pit of shadow. In the intense silence she seemed to hear the spruce forest crackling with electricity and cold. Strange, foreign stars floated on that unmoving water. The night was going to freeze. Over the hills came the far sobbing-singing howling of the coyotes. She wondered how the horses would be.

Shuddering a little, she turned to the cabin. Warm light showed through its chinks. She pushed at the rickety, half-opened door.

"What about the horses?" she said.

"My black, he won't go away. And your mare will stay with him. You want to go to bed now?"

"I think I do."

"All right. I feed the horses some oats."

And he went out into the night.

He did not come back for some time. She was lying wrapped up tight in the bunk.

He blew out the lantern, and sat down on his bedding to take off his clothes. She lay with her back turned. And soon, in the silence, she was asleep.

She dreamed it was snowing, and the snow was falling on her through the roof, softly, softly, helplessly, and she was going to be buried alive. She was growing colder and colder, the snow was weighing down on her. The snow was going to absorb her.

She awoke with a sudden convulsion, like pain. She was really very cold; perhaps the heavy blankets had numbed her. Her heart seemed unable to beat, she felt she could not move.

With another convulsion she sat up. It was intensely dark. There was not even a spark of fire, the light wood had burned right away. She sat in thick oblivious darkness. Only through a chink she could see a star.

What did she want? Oh, what did she want? She sat in bed and rocked herself woefully. She could hear the steady breathing of the sleeping man. She was shivering with cold; her heart seemed as if it could not beat. She wanted warmth, protection, she wanted to be taken away from herself. And at the same time, perhaps more deeply than anything, she wanted to keep herself intact, intact, untouched, that no one should have any power over her, or rights to her. It was a wild necessity in her that no one, particularly no man, should have any rights or power over her, that no one and nothing should possess her.

Yet that other thing! And she was so cold, so shivering, and her heart could not beat. Oh, would not someone help her heart to beat?

She tried to speak, and could not. Then she cleared her throat.

"Romero," she said strangely, "it is so cold."

Where did her voice come from, and whose voice was it, in the dark?

She heard him at once sit up, and his voice, startled, with a resonance that seemed to vibrate against her, saying:

"You want me to make you warm?"

"Yes."

As soon as he had lifted her in his arms, she wanted to scream to him not to touch her. She stiffened herself. Yet she was dumb.

And he was warm, but with a terrible animal warmth that seemed to annihilate her. He panted like an animal with desire. And she was given over to this thing.

She had never, never wanted to be given over to this. But she had willed that it should happen to her. And according to her will, she lay and let it happen. But she never wanted it. She never wanted to be thus assailed and handled, and mauled. She wanted to keep herself to herself.

However, she had willed it to happen, and it had happened. She panted with relief when it was over.

Yet even now she had to lie within the hard, powerful clasp of this other creature, this man. She dreaded to struggle to go away. She dreaded almost too much the icy cold of that other bunk.

"Do you want to go away from me?" asked his strange voice. Oh, if it could only have been a thousand miles away from her! Yet she had willed to have it thus close.

"No," she said.

And she could feel a curious joy and pride surging up again in him: at her expense. Because he had got her. She felt like a victim there. And he was exulting in his power over her, his possession, his pleasure.

There are a number of interesting points in this section. Of course there is the intense cold. This is nature completely unsmpathetic to human needs. There is this lovely passage:

The stars were big. Mars sat on the edge of a mountain, for all the world like the blazing eye of a crouching mountain lion. But she herself was deep, deep below in a pit of shadow. In the intense silence she seemed to hear the spruce forest crackling with electricity and cold. Strange, foreign stars floated on that unmoving water. The night was going to freeze. Over the hills came the far sobbing-singing howling of the coyotes. She wondered how the horses would be.

Nature is charged with intensity and power: the planet like a mountain lion's eye, the intense silence, the forest "crackling with electricity and cold," and howling of the coyotes, "singing-sobbing." She is obviously uncomfortable with the sleeping arrangements, though she asks about the horses. And Romero ironicaly replies, "My black, he won't go away. And your mare will stay with him. You want to go to bed now?" This counterpoints her and Romero's situation, I think. Or it shows how Romero thinks, a mare will submitt to the male.

Not sure why Romero takes off his clothes in such cold weather, other than he was planning to do what he does.

Here's a wonderful Lawrencian passage that moves her emotions to the point of where her will crystalizes:

She dreamed it was snowing, and the snow was falling on her through the roof, softly, softly, helplessly, and she was going to be buried alive. She was growing colder and colder, the snow was weighing down on her. The snow was going to absorb her.

She awoke with a sudden convulsion, like pain. She was really very cold; perhaps the heavy blankets had numbed her. Her heart seemed unable to beat, she felt she could not move.

With another convulsion she sat up. It was intensely dark. There was not even a spark of fire, the light wood had burned right away. She sat in thick oblivious darkness. Only through a chink she could see a star.

What did she want? Oh, what did she want? She sat in bed and rocked herself woefully. She could hear the steady breathing of the sleeping man. She was shivering with cold; her heart seemed as if it could not beat. She wanted warmth, protection, she wanted to be taken away from herself. And at the same time, perhaps more deeply than anything, she wanted to keep herself intact, intact, untouched, that no one should have any power over her, or rights to her. It was a wild necessity in her that no one, particularly no man, should have any rights or power over her, that no one and nothing should possess her.

She's really in a quandry. The cold has pushed her to depend on Romero, but her will represses.
But nature forces her to give in:

Yet that other thing! And she was so cold, so shivering, and her heart could not beat. Oh, would not someone help her heart to beat?

She tried to speak, and could not. Then she cleared her throat.

"Romero," she said strangely, "it is so cold."

Where did her voice come from, and whose voice was it, in the dark?

She heard him at once sit up, and his voice, startled, with a resonance that seemed to vibrate against her, saying:

"You want me to make you warm?"

"Yes."

As soon as he had lifted her in his arms, she wanted to scream to him not to touch her. She stiffened herself. Yet she was dumb.

And then the rape, at least from her point of view. From Romero's he can justifiably say she accepted it, or even wanted it. But here's where I think Lawrence loses me again in this story:

And he was warm, but with a terrible animal warmth that seemed to annihilate her. He panted like an animal with desire. And she was given over to this thing.

She had never, never wanted to be given over to this. But she had willed that it should happen to her. And according to her will, she lay and let it happen. But she never wanted it. She never wanted to be thus assailed and handled, and mauled. She wanted to keep herself to herself.

However, she had willed it to happen, and it had happened. She panted with relief when it was over.

Lawrence is claiing she willed it to happen, and maybe that's what Lawrence intended, but I don't see it. Unlike the story, The Prussian Officer, where Lawrence develops this subconcious desire, I don't think he does enough to convince me in this story that she really wanted the sex, even when consciously she doesn't. Perhaps someone can defend Lawrence here, but it just feels undeveloped to me. But still the entire section is a great passage.

[Janine]

Ok, I know you've been waiting with bated breath for the next section.

Finally!... I thought we would never push onto this climatic moment - near end of your post.

There are a number of interesting points in this section. Of course there is the intense cold. This is nature completely unsmpathetic to human needs. There is this lovely passage:

Exceedingly interesting post indeed! I quite enjoyed this bit of Lawrence's writing. If you have ever camped or been out in the wilderness when it is indeed cold or on the chilly side, then you might not be able to relate to this. I did have a rare opportunity to do so many years back. Camping itself and nature alters ones' perception entirely in my opinion. Of course fire and warmth, also comfort food (soup, etc.) seem now to be priorities in life. And yes, Virgil, I will be disputing your last part and your confusion about Lawrence's writing; you know me, I will be defending my Lawrence. I don't really this inward confusion as any different than the confusion within many of Lawrence's characters (often women, but sometimes men, as well) in this novels or stories.

Do you want to go away from me?" asked his strange voice. Oh, if it could only have been a thousand miles away from her! Yet she had willed to have it thus close."

Is this quote correct - or should that be thousand miles away from here OR from him? I don't know if the whole line reads right either. *confused*...is this from her point of view or his? I guess I am referring to "his strange voice."

"No," she said.

And she could feel a curious joy and pride surging up again in him: at her expense. Because he had got her. She felt like a victim there. And he was exulting in his power over her, his possession, his pleasure.

This statement and the one at the end of the first section of text you posted, already demonstrates to us some confusion and opposition within Dolly's own mind. She seems to want some type of connection with Romero, but she does not want him to have power over her. When she realises she is in this position she then feels she is the 'victim.' However, later I think she wavers in asking him into her bed. He did not just barge in without being invited afterall. I don't think Dolly remains firm, she wants something and then she doesn't. Hey, what do they always say 'it is the right for a woman to change her mind'...unfortunately Dolly puts herself in a very precarious positon, leads Romero right up to the brink of his explosive passion and then backs down - 'changes her mind'. She brings this on herself with that state of indecision or confusion within herself.

Nature is charged with intensity and power: the planet like a mountain lion's eye, the intense silence, the forest "crackling with electricity and cold," and howling of the coyotes, "singing-sobbing." She is obviously uncomfortable with the sleeping arrangements, though she asks about the horses. And Romero ironicaly replies, "My black, he won't go away. And your mare will stay with him. You want to go to bed now?" This counterpoints her and Romero's situation, I think. Or it shows how Romero thinks, a mare will submitt to the male.

Absolutely charged with "intensity and power" I just love those images and L's references. The writing in this part is exceptional! Yes, the horses do mimic the way in which Romero thinks. Much like the image of Gerald in WIL, he is the master, not only of the woman but of his horses and his 'black' horse is master over the mare; thus showing Lawrence's view at this time of the male naturally being dominent over the female. Ok, here definitely is where the feminists start howling. But this theme does run through many of his novels and stories.

Not sure why Romero takes off his clothes in such cold weather, other than he was planning to do what he does.

He is warm blooded??? like....
"He's warm blooded, check it and see, he's got a fever of 103%" - remember that song? haha...

Here's a wonderful Lawrencian passage that moves her emotions to the point of where her will crystalizes:

Yes, excellent passage, well written; I agree.

She's really in a quandry. The cold has pushed her to depend on Romero, but her will represses.

Yes, she certainly is in a quandry but she put herself willingly into this situation. The cold in "Virgin and the Gypsy" put her into a similar situation; in that case the woman did not reject the man. She also asked for help in getting warmed up. She was the younger of the two women and yet she has less naivity about sex than Dolly has. Dolly has book learning about sex and not actually knowledge of the act. She thinks she wants the male closeness and warmth but she is 'unrealistic' when it comes to what that will mean in the end to her.

But nature forces her to give in:

And then the rape, at least from her point of view. From Romero's he can justifiably say she accepted it, or even wanted it. But here's where I think Lawrence loses me again in this story:

Lawrence is claiing she willed it to happen, and maybe that's what Lawrence intended, but I don't see it. Unlike the story, The Prussian Officer, where Lawrence develops this subconcious desire, I don't think he does enough to convince me in this story that she really wanted the sex, even when consciously she doesn't. Perhaps someone can defend Lawrence here, but it just feels undeveloped to me. But still the entire section is a great passage.[/QUOTE]

Well, her 'will' was strong all throughout the story. I think she believed she could maintain that 'will' and have her 'will' over Romero in the end. But she could not. I don't see where this is so unrealistic, as far as the writing was concerned. They are in another worldly type environment; as I said nature can alter one's perception greatly. One can feel almost insignificant against the backdrop of the power of nature as Lawrence has painted it here. And afterall, Lawrence usually does write about 'conflicts' within his characters themselves. I see this as a great conflict within Dolly, from the start of this story. Dolly wanted something she could not have. She was 'unrealistic' as I already said. I thought the passage was great and written very well. I didn't once feel it to be under-developed. Maybe you are looking at it too much from a male point of view, Virgil I seriously think that any man in this circumstance would have reacted the same way as Romero does. He may feel she wants to be taken; he may be reading her all wrong; who wouldn't given she even invites him into her bed? He has felt her thoughts out all through the journey to this point, to this cabin. When she agrees that he come into her bed, then she crosses that delicate line. After that, the story situtation quickly spirals out of control.

[Janine]

Hello Virgil or anyone! *echo* Hello! Are we ever going to progress with this story? I thought by now someone would have answered my post above. I'm just posting now to remind you all that the L thread exists.

[Dark Muse]

I have been meaning to respond to the latest part posted I just have not been able to get around to doing so yet. I will try to soon.

[Janine]

I have been meaning to respond to the latest part posted I just have not been able to get around to doing so yet. I will try to soon.

Thanks for responding Dark Muse, sorry I did not mention you by name. I didn't forget you. I thought you were probably in Poe-land. I am glad you didn't forget this story. Virgil seems to have a mental block this month about the short story or else he is so busy working. I will give him a gentle nudge towards this thread; drop a line in his profile page.

[Virgil]

Finally!... I thought we would never push onto this climatic moment - near end of your post.

Complaining, complaining.

Exceedingly interesting post indeed! I quite enjoyed this bit of Lawrence's writing. If you have ever camped or been out in the wilderness when it is indeed cold or on the chilly side, then you might not be able to relate to this. I did have a rare opportunity to do so many years back. Camping itself and nature alters ones' perception entirely in my opinion. Of course fire and warmth, also comfort food (soup, etc.) seem now to be priorities in life.

Yes, that's a good way to put it, pushing the situation to the priorities of life. Actually to an animal's existance, naturalism in the extreme.

Is this quote correct - or should that be thousand miles away from here OR from him? I don't know if the whole line reads right either. *confused*...is this from her point of view or his? I guess I am referring to "his strange voice."

I copied it off the web site. It looks like a typo. I don't have my hard text with me. Perhaps someone can look it up and see if it's the same in the print.

This statement and the one at the end of the first section of text you posted, already demonstrates to us some confusion and opposition within Dolly's own mind. She seems to want some type of connection with Romero, but she does not want him to have power over her. When she realises she is in this position she then feels she is the 'victim.' However, later I think she wavers in asking him into her bed. He did not just barge in without being invited afterall. I don't think Dolly remains firm, she wants something and then she doesn't. Hey, what do they always say 'it is the right for a woman to change her mind'...unfortunately Dolly puts herself in a very precarious positon, leads Romero right up to the brink of his explosive passion and then backs down - 'changes her mind'. She brings this on herself with that state of indecision or confusion within herself.

Yes, that is a good way to look at it.

Absolutely charged with "intensity and power" I just love those images and L's references. The writing in this part is exceptional! Yes, the horses do mimic the way in which Romero thinks.

Actually more like the way Lawrence thinks.

Much like the image of Gerald in WIL, he is the master, not only of the woman but of his horses and his 'black' horse is master over the mare; thus showing Lawrence's view at this time of the male naturally being dominent over the female. Ok, here definitely is where the feminists start howling. But this theme does run through many of his novels and stories.

Hehe, I love it when the feminists start howling.

He is warm blooded??? like....
"He's warm blooded, check it and see, he's got a fever of 103%" - remember that song? haha...

Do you do more than dance? I guess Dollie doesn't want to.

Yes, she certainly is in a quandry but she put herself willingly into this situation. The cold in "Virgin and the Gypsy" put her into a similar situation; in that case the woman did not reject the man. She also asked for help in getting warmed up. She was the younger of the two women and yet she has less naivity about sex than Dolly has. Dolly has book learning about sex and not actually knowledge of the act. She thinks she wants the male closeness and warmth but she is 'unrealistic' when it comes to what that will mean in the end to her.

Oh I haven't read The V&G. Sounds like there are parallels.

Well, her 'will' was strong all throughout the story. I think she believed she could maintain that 'will' and have her 'will' over Romero in the end. But she could not. I don't see where this is so unrealistic, as far as the writing was concerned.

I can't help but feel that Lawrence is unclear. Does he really dig into Dollie's mind as he does with other characters? I don't think so. This was already a fairly long story and I bet he was trying to cut corners. But I think you're interpretation of Dollie's actions is correct.

They are in another worldly type environment; as I said nature can alter one's perception greatly. One can feel almost insignificant against the backdrop of the power of nature as Lawrence has painted it here. And afterall, Lawrence usually does write about 'conflicts' within his characters themselves. I see this as a great conflict within Dolly, from the start of this story. Dolly wanted something she could not have. She was 'unrealistic' as I already said. I thought the passage was great and written very well. I didn't once feel it to be under-developed. Maybe you are looking at it too much from a male point of view,

Perhaps so.

Virgil I seriously think that any man in this circumstance would have reacted the same way as Romero does. He may feel she wants to be taken; he may be reading her all wrong; who wouldn't given she even invites him into her bed? He has felt her thoughts out all through the journey to this point, to this cabin. When she agrees that he come into her bed, then she crosses that delicate line. After that, the story situtation quickly spirals out of control.

Well, that could explain the initial sex. But there is more to the actions which I'll post tonight.

I did notice something else in this section just now that I should have mentioned. Look at this paragraph:

And he was warm, but with a terrible animal warmth that seemed to annihilate her. He panted like an animal with desire. And she was given over to this thing.

Notice the word "annihilate." Lawrence uses that word a lot. There are two manners in which he uses it. One, as a climax to a battle of wills where one will destroys the other. Or two in a moment of sexual climax where the will just disappears for a moment and one is in a moment of mindlessness, the will being temporarily destroyed. Not sure how Lawrence is using it here. It seems to come around the sexual moment. But it also seems to come at a point where his will over comes her resistance.

[Dark Muse]

I do not think that in this part of the story it can truly be called a rape at this point. Though she does not "want" the sex, at least not in the tradidtional sense she is not actively enjoying it, she could just as well have asked him to start a fire again if she wanted warmth.

She of her own will agreed to get into bed with him. So to speak since they do not acutally have beds. She is determined to have this experince, so I think she does consent to it, I do not truly think she is being froced here. She asked for it to happen, and allowed it to happen even if she is not enjoying it.

If at this point the story Romero truly wanted to rape her, he would not have asked her if she wanted to sleep with him, he could have just pounced upon her and overpowered her.

[Virgil]

This is true Muse. I don't think Lawrence would consider it a rape. In fact I change my mind. It's not a rape. God, the feminists have almost gotten to me too.

[Janine]

I do not think that in this part of the story it can truly be called a rape at this point. Though she does not "want" the sex, at least not in the tradidtional sense she is not actively enjoying it, she could just as well have asked him to start a fire again if she wanted warmth.

She of her own will agreed to get into bed with him. So to speak since they do not acutally have beds. She is determined to have this experince, so I think she does consent to it, I do not truly think she is being froced here. She asked for it to happen, and allowed it to happen even if she is not enjoying it.

If at this point the story Romero truly wanted to rape her, he would not have asked her if she wanted to sleep with him, he could have just pounced upon her and overpowered her.

I totally agree with you, Dark Muse. Pretty weird, huh?... We are agreeing again. We might agree on more things than you would think.

Yes, Virgil, I believe those darm feminists have almost got to you again!

I will answer your reply above to my comments later on, V.

[Janine]

He unwrapped one bundle of bedding, and spread the blankets and the sheepskin in the wooden bunk

Dark Muse, isn't a bunk a sort of bed? or do you think they are referring here to the floor or the cabin? Just curious. Is it our turn to comment on your text or further comment on your posts about my comments on the text, Virgil? I feel sort of lost now in this discussion.

[Virgil]

Quote:
He unwrapped one bundle of bedding, and spread the blankets and the sheepskin in the wooden bunk

Sheepskin? Do you think he had condoms?

Dark Muse, isn't a bunk a sort of bed? or do you think they are referring here to the floor or the cabin? Just curious. Is it our turn to comment on your text or further comment on your posts about my comments on the text, Virgil? I feel sort of lost now in this discussion.

I must admit I was confused as to what they were sleeping on. At first i thought it was sleeping bags but when I saw bunk the other day I thought, oh they had beds or cots. I'm still not sure. And why are you lost? You said above you were going to reply to my comments. I was waiting.

[Janine]

Sheepskin? Do you think he had condoms?

hahaha....very funny....Virgil! I don't think so. I think they were skins from sheeps that were wooley and kept one warm!

I must admit I was confused as to what they were sleeping on. At first i thought it was sleeping bags but when I saw bunk the other day I thought, oh they had beds or cots. I'm still not sure. And why are you lost? You said above you were going to reply to my comments. I was waiting.

Oh, yeah I sort of forgot (thus I am a bit 'lost' lately)...sorry 'bout that. I will get to that tomorrow; still watching my Tenessee Williams play. I guess this is going to run into next month; but maybe we can try hard to get it done this following week; what do you think?

[Virgil]

Ok, let's get it done by the end of January. I think there are about three more sections to go. How about one tomorrow night, one Sunday night, and one mid week? That should cover it.