A place for all the Sons and Lovers posts:
The text for Sons and Lovers can be found at Project Gutenberg.
Some online DH Lawrence resources
Sons and Lovers: Chapters 1 – 6 discussion
Sons and Lovers: Chapters 7 – 10 discussion
Sons and Lovers: Chapters 11 – 15 discussion
Sons and Lovers (2003 TV adaptation)
Sons and Lovers (1960 movie)
Showing posts with label Sons and Lovers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sons and Lovers. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Sons and Lovers summary
Sons and Lovers (1960 movie)
This movie might be a little harder to find for some since the DVD has not been released in the U.S. (or at least that regional format). Fortunately many inexpensive DVD players now can play any regional format.The casting for the movie was perfect:
Trevor Howard as Walter Morel
Dean Stockwell as Paul Morel
Wendy Hiller as Gertrude Morel
Mary Ure as Clara Dawes
Heather Sears as Miriam Leivers
The last two women did extremely well in difficult roles, and it was fun to see Dean Stockwell so soon after seeing him in the title role of Kim. Trevor Howard was tremendous as the frustrated and alienated head of the household.
The writers (T.E.B. Clarke and Gavin Lambert) took an interesting approach, starting with Paul in his late teens at the start of the movie. With that premise, scenes inevitably are going to be out of synch with the timing in the book. Yet for the most part they were still able to make most of it work. For example, the scene in Chapter 1 where Mr. Morel locks his wife out of the house, here we have Paul coming home and smashing a glass panel in the door to get in the house. The next morning, Mr. Morel tries to reconcile with the family and his wife acknowledges the emasculating impact she has had.
Yet some of the script’s inventions defy explanation. Having Arthur die in the mine (?!?!?) early in the movie just didn’t make sense. I know they were trying to stress Mrs. Morel’s wishes for her sons to attain middle class and avoid working in the mines, but there is enough material in the book to use without major alterations. The invented device of having a collector offer Paul a chance to study art in London, however, did an excellent job of highlighting the struggle Paul felt between staying with his mother and realizing his future.
There was a better sense of the relationship between Paul and his mother in this version as compared to the 2003 adaptation…not perfect but pretty good. And after Paul’s first time with Miriam, some of the “stillness” that Paul complained of after sex was reflected. Since the book made this ‘stillness’ (or sometimes described as a death-like feeling) a repeated point, it was nice to see it given recognition.
It was an interesting choice to film this in black and white. It is still visually beautiful, but obviously the colorful richness of nature conveyed in the book is lost because of that. The Nottinghamshire countryside still had much of the beauty of Lawrence’s time, even with the color limitation. It looked like this version had a strong influence on choices made in the 2003 TV adaptation.
Despite the inventions, conflations and reordering, the movie came reasonably close to capturing many of the strengths of the book. I think the movie is worth searching out and watching on its own terms as well as a comparative to the novel.
Movie poster from moviegoods.com
Monday, January 14, 2008
Sons and Lovers (2003 TV adaptation)
I generally liked the movie while I viewed it, yet as soon as it was over I began to feel disappointed. Unfortunately, this is the complete opposite my feelings about the book. First the good things—the scenery and music are beautiful. Since Lawrence was so focused on nature, I don’t think the movie could possibly overplay outdoor scenes. (Flowers played such a key part for Lawrence but they seem to be lacking on screen.) However, Walter’s alienation from his family was one of the better dramatized parts of the book. His portrayal at William’s funeral was moving.
One of the toughest things about adapting this book to a movie would be trying to externally capture what is going on internally. The emphasis in the novel is with conscious and unconscious thoughts and feelings directing what the characters do. A couple of ways they tried to get around that here was to have a lot of the dialogue straight from the book as well as adding invented scenes to help build the ‘feeling’ of the movie.
I don’t expect a movie to follow the work exactly, and realize there will need to be a lot of paring in order to get to an acceptable length. But one of the strengths of the book was Lawrence’s ability to give a well-rounded picture of a character on the sketchiest of details. Seeing Walter Morel with red hair was a jolt, as was anything other than a buxom Clara. The latter point was especially jarring since Lawrence painted not just the internal strength of Clara (which fails in the end) but her physical strength as well. There are many more examples where the choice made for the movie is different from the book, which at some point seems to make it into something completely different story.
As the scenes piled up that were out of order, conflated, or invented, the general gist of the story remained but much of the power of the book was lost. The scene where Walter locked his wife out of the house in Chapter 1 is sadly truncated (as was the workmen carrying William’s casket). And changing a seaside vacation with Clara to one with Miriam is just inexplicable. While I wouldn’t say the nudity in the movie was gratuitous, it didn’t feel necessary. The one point (repeatedly shown) that sex and sensuousness don’t always mix felt old by the end.
The question on recommending the movie is a tough one. The movie can be a pleasure to watch at times as long as you’re not expecting it to be true to the book. While that can be said of many adaptations from book to screen, this one definitely took a considerable step away from the source many times.
One of the toughest things about adapting this book to a movie would be trying to externally capture what is going on internally. The emphasis in the novel is with conscious and unconscious thoughts and feelings directing what the characters do. A couple of ways they tried to get around that here was to have a lot of the dialogue straight from the book as well as adding invented scenes to help build the ‘feeling’ of the movie.
I don’t expect a movie to follow the work exactly, and realize there will need to be a lot of paring in order to get to an acceptable length. But one of the strengths of the book was Lawrence’s ability to give a well-rounded picture of a character on the sketchiest of details. Seeing Walter Morel with red hair was a jolt, as was anything other than a buxom Clara. The latter point was especially jarring since Lawrence painted not just the internal strength of Clara (which fails in the end) but her physical strength as well. There are many more examples where the choice made for the movie is different from the book, which at some point seems to make it into something completely different story.
As the scenes piled up that were out of order, conflated, or invented, the general gist of the story remained but much of the power of the book was lost. The scene where Walter locked his wife out of the house in Chapter 1 is sadly truncated (as was the workmen carrying William’s casket). And changing a seaside vacation with Clara to one with Miriam is just inexplicable. While I wouldn’t say the nudity in the movie was gratuitous, it didn’t feel necessary. The one point (repeatedly shown) that sex and sensuousness don’t always mix felt old by the end.
The question on recommending the movie is a tough one. The movie can be a pleasure to watch at times as long as you’re not expecting it to be true to the book. While that can be said of many adaptations from book to screen, this one definitely took a considerable step away from the source many times.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Sons and Lovers: Chapters 11 – 15 discussion
A few words on the last chapters as well as comments on themes and topics from the book:
The relationship between mother and sons (particularly Paul and William) is unhealthy and troubling in a much different way than I was expecting from the reputation of the book. The dependence the sons have on her as well as the ideal she has created frustrates and limits their ability to have normal relationships with women. The more I read about Miriam, the resemblance to Mrs. Morel deepened. I mentioned their shared disappointment with life in the previous post, but there is a disquieting scene in this section where Miriam admits her desire to have Paul’s children, which to some degree is the ultimate reason she wants to marry him. In other words, she’ll love his children but can’t fully love him. This echoes Mrs. Morel’s situation with her husband to a large extent. And Mrs. Morel’s projection of Miriam wanting to “absorb” Paul masks her own assimilation of him.
Miriam’s sensuousness comes through when she appreciates nature, plus she seems to have a heightened experience of it (nature) through or with Paul. In contrast, there are times when Mrs. Morel has flashes of sensuality with Walter, her love surfacing occasionally through the disappointment. She gives in to that feeling which is in sharp contrast to Paul, who fights and despises how such desire makes him feel. He ultimately gives in to his desire for Miriam, mostly because he hopes it will complete or round out his feelings for her rather than for the feeling itself (or that matter, for Miriam). And Paul’s desire of Clara, an older married woman, is far more troubling. Despite his mother’s death and Paul’s breaking clean of Miriam and Clara, I don’t get the feeling that his future relationships will be any better thanks to the ambiguous ending.
While the book highlights the impotence and frustration of men, it fully conveys the powerlessness of the females characterized. Their options are limited in most aspects of life. I’ve mentioned Mrs. Morel’s and Miriam’s outbursts, but in this last section the limitations for Clara are starkly drawn. Earlier in the book, Paul helps Clara get a job at Jordan’s, but the embarrassment she shows is palpable when Paul drops in unannounced and sees Clara and her mom making lace. Despite her involvement in the feminist movement and her attempt to act above social conventions, she realizes her choices are restricted if she wishes to participate socially in a meaningful way. There are several conflicting reasons for her return to her husband at the end of the novel, but the limitation of her options because she is a woman is a powerful one.
Much of the book emphasizes strife or struggle, both external (between spouses, siblings, family members, generations, lovers, etc. or with any of these against society) and internal (consciously or unconsciously). I would have to read back through the book, but the only truly happy married pair I can recall are the Leivers (Miriam’s parents). Maybe Mrs. Morel’s parents fell into that category, but they don’t have much substance in the book other than the traits Gertrude took from her father. The internal struggles are highlighted often and drive most of the characters. One interesting question to delve into (I won’t do it here since I didn’t think of this point until after finishing the book) is how responsible society is for many of the struggles and which had a more proximate cause from someone in particular. In conjunction with the strife there is an emphasis on healing at various times, whether physical, moral or a conciliation.
An additional point I didn’t catch until near the end of the book is Lawrence’s use of color, associating certain colors with particular characters. I didn’t catch this until Paul and Clara first make love—the color red was in abundance through flowers, clay, and radishes. This may be a stretch, but it dawned on me that Mr. Morel had red and black emphasized, the red usually tied to his sensuous nature. Seeing it again with Clara means it may have been intended since that is consistent. It would be something to keep in mind upon re-reading the book.
Mrs. Morel’s deterioration and death are powerful scenes. The conflict between Paul and her at the end is macabre at best, with Paul (and Annie) wishing her dead while she fights to stay alive. The self-interest revealed in that conflict taints the good deeds that all sides perform (Mrs. Morel not complaining during her pain and illness, Annie and Paul taking care of her). Mrs. Morel unburdening her bitterness toward her husband to Paul while on her deathbed captures her disappointment and selfishness. The laugh between Annie and Paul when he crushes all the morphia pills to put in their mother’s milk, described as a “little sanity” in all the horror, feels like anything but sane. Despite this behavior, the culmination of Mrs. Morel’s disease is painful to watch. I found myself questioning why she was hanging on to life so tenaciously…was it because of her nature, because of her love, or for some other reason? And why did Annie and Paul wish her dead—was it to cease her pain? Because of the characters’ frequent selfish behavior, their motives aren’t clear. That ambivalence dovetails nicely with much of the book since characters aren’t always conscious of their motives. The struggle between conscious choices and unconscious desires frames the entire novel and gives many scenes their power.
Next: two screen versions of Sons and Lovers—the 2003 adaptation for TV and the 1960 movie version. The next book will be James Joyce’s Dubliners.
The relationship between mother and sons (particularly Paul and William) is unhealthy and troubling in a much different way than I was expecting from the reputation of the book. The dependence the sons have on her as well as the ideal she has created frustrates and limits their ability to have normal relationships with women. The more I read about Miriam, the resemblance to Mrs. Morel deepened. I mentioned their shared disappointment with life in the previous post, but there is a disquieting scene in this section where Miriam admits her desire to have Paul’s children, which to some degree is the ultimate reason she wants to marry him. In other words, she’ll love his children but can’t fully love him. This echoes Mrs. Morel’s situation with her husband to a large extent. And Mrs. Morel’s projection of Miriam wanting to “absorb” Paul masks her own assimilation of him.
Miriam’s sensuousness comes through when she appreciates nature, plus she seems to have a heightened experience of it (nature) through or with Paul. In contrast, there are times when Mrs. Morel has flashes of sensuality with Walter, her love surfacing occasionally through the disappointment. She gives in to that feeling which is in sharp contrast to Paul, who fights and despises how such desire makes him feel. He ultimately gives in to his desire for Miriam, mostly because he hopes it will complete or round out his feelings for her rather than for the feeling itself (or that matter, for Miriam). And Paul’s desire of Clara, an older married woman, is far more troubling. Despite his mother’s death and Paul’s breaking clean of Miriam and Clara, I don’t get the feeling that his future relationships will be any better thanks to the ambiguous ending.
While the book highlights the impotence and frustration of men, it fully conveys the powerlessness of the females characterized. Their options are limited in most aspects of life. I’ve mentioned Mrs. Morel’s and Miriam’s outbursts, but in this last section the limitations for Clara are starkly drawn. Earlier in the book, Paul helps Clara get a job at Jordan’s, but the embarrassment she shows is palpable when Paul drops in unannounced and sees Clara and her mom making lace. Despite her involvement in the feminist movement and her attempt to act above social conventions, she realizes her choices are restricted if she wishes to participate socially in a meaningful way. There are several conflicting reasons for her return to her husband at the end of the novel, but the limitation of her options because she is a woman is a powerful one.
Much of the book emphasizes strife or struggle, both external (between spouses, siblings, family members, generations, lovers, etc. or with any of these against society) and internal (consciously or unconsciously). I would have to read back through the book, but the only truly happy married pair I can recall are the Leivers (Miriam’s parents). Maybe Mrs. Morel’s parents fell into that category, but they don’t have much substance in the book other than the traits Gertrude took from her father. The internal struggles are highlighted often and drive most of the characters. One interesting question to delve into (I won’t do it here since I didn’t think of this point until after finishing the book) is how responsible society is for many of the struggles and which had a more proximate cause from someone in particular. In conjunction with the strife there is an emphasis on healing at various times, whether physical, moral or a conciliation.
An additional point I didn’t catch until near the end of the book is Lawrence’s use of color, associating certain colors with particular characters. I didn’t catch this until Paul and Clara first make love—the color red was in abundance through flowers, clay, and radishes. This may be a stretch, but it dawned on me that Mr. Morel had red and black emphasized, the red usually tied to his sensuous nature. Seeing it again with Clara means it may have been intended since that is consistent. It would be something to keep in mind upon re-reading the book.
Mrs. Morel’s deterioration and death are powerful scenes. The conflict between Paul and her at the end is macabre at best, with Paul (and Annie) wishing her dead while she fights to stay alive. The self-interest revealed in that conflict taints the good deeds that all sides perform (Mrs. Morel not complaining during her pain and illness, Annie and Paul taking care of her). Mrs. Morel unburdening her bitterness toward her husband to Paul while on her deathbed captures her disappointment and selfishness. The laugh between Annie and Paul when he crushes all the morphia pills to put in their mother’s milk, described as a “little sanity” in all the horror, feels like anything but sane. Despite this behavior, the culmination of Mrs. Morel’s disease is painful to watch. I found myself questioning why she was hanging on to life so tenaciously…was it because of her nature, because of her love, or for some other reason? And why did Annie and Paul wish her dead—was it to cease her pain? Because of the characters’ frequent selfish behavior, their motives aren’t clear. That ambivalence dovetails nicely with much of the book since characters aren’t always conscious of their motives. The struggle between conscious choices and unconscious desires frames the entire novel and gives many scenes their power.
Next: two screen versions of Sons and Lovers—the 2003 adaptation for TV and the 1960 movie version. The next book will be James Joyce’s Dubliners.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Sons and Lovers: Chapters 7 – 10 discussion
I’m beginning to like the book more, but it doesn’t mean I like the characters any better. This section covers the first half of Part II—Paul at work, his relationships with Miriam and Clara, and the declining health of his mother.
There are two quotes in this section that seem to be a key to the book. As Miriam looks at one of Paul’s paintings, she asks:
Throughout the book, Lawrence also tries to capture that shimmer inside. The second quote comes as Paul is arguing with his mother: “But damn your happiness! So long as life’s full, it doesn’t matter whether it’s happy or not.” Paul, the thinly-veiled Lawrentian character, seeks to live fully and constantly develop himself and others. Yet he is unable to have a healthy connection with a woman, critically hindering his development and full life. Lawrence does not shrink from showing Paul’s faults and exposing him to criticism, a trait that partially offsets the dislike of Paul with a grudging appreciation of Lawrence.
Mrs. Morel’s life is unfulfilled so she lives through Paul in a manner that is well beyond vicarious in manner. When Paul wins prizes, her response is “I knew we could do it.” (emphasis mine) Mrs. Morel wants Paul to move up into the middle class (despite his declaration otherwise) and find a nice girl to make Paul happy. It is always interesting to compare Mars. Morel’s thoughts on how she thinks should be versus her own actions. For example, despite the mother’s statement that “say if a man is GENUINE, as he is, and a girl is fond of him—then—it should be all right,” her appreciation of her husband (who is nothing if not genuine) is anything but all right. She hates Miriam because she feels the girl undermines Paul’s joy, when the unhappiness is all Paul’s doing. Miriam is actually very nourishing and supportive of Paul. Mrs. Morel feels Miriam wants to “absorb” Paul when the absorption quality is of Paul by his mother. Yet Mrs. Morel is astute enough not to go beyond stating her opinion when asked in order not “to have any open rupture” with Paul. Paul and his mother would have sham arguments to “get over the stress of emotion,” joshing each other in a loving manner. Yet Paul has open anger toward his mother at times when she shows her age or sickness. And Paul’s anger is triggered toward Miriam when his mother talks about her. He recognizes that Miriam gives him warmth and insight, yet that clearly isn't enough for him.
Paul continuously claims all he can give Miriam is friendship: “I don't think one person would ever monopolize me—be everything to me.” The irony is thick, even though both Paul and his mother realize that he will eventually find a woman to marry. The baggage he would bring to such a relationship is guaranteed to kill it before it will have a chance. It is also interesting to see the contradiction in the ways Paul and his mother view Miriam. Paul felt that Miriam “did hold the best of him…(but) he could not stay with her because she did not take the rest of him…”, clearly at odds with his mother’s concern of Miriam absorbing him. And Paul’s indecision festers, thinking he belongs to Miriam and that feeling is enough. Both Paul and Miriam are very similar in some respects—both are close to their mothers, and while Miriam is described as being mystical in regards to religion, Paul has the same feeling with nature. Even more ironic is how similar Miriam is to Paul’s mother regarding her dissatisfaction with “her lot,” wanting to do something but plaintively asking “what chance HAVE I?” Paul’s emotions are clearly ignited by Miriam as they swing wildly, from rage to gentleness and back again very quickly, and he is usually unable to know or explain why. Yet he describes Miriam as having “extreme emotion.”
Miriam’s sexuality causes the split within Paul to deepen. He is aroused when she puts her arm in his or when she suggestively and intimately appreciates flowers. His response, unknown to him and usually described as his blood being like a flame inside him, overwhelms him and causes him to draw away from her. Yet another irony is Paul’s appreciation of nature while he is unable to experience the natural arousal without shame (and anger at Miriam for ‘causing’ it). Clara is in contrast to Miriam in that she arouses Paul differently, intellectually as well as physically. Since Clara was still married, however, she was effectively ‘off-limits’ and therefore not threatening. Paul’s constant prodding of Clara into the rupture of her marriage obviously signals a trouble for him. And at one point in his questioning, he even puts the finger on his parent’s marital woes without realizing it. Clara acts very aloof with the younger Paul, apparently for both societal and personal reasons. At the end of this section, Clara highlights the immaturity of Paul in discussing his relationship with Miriam and shows her disdain:
Because of Paul’s repeated misunderstanding of Miriam, I think it is safe to say you have to discount or question all of his statements about her throughout the book.
One last observation on the novel is Lawrence’s obvious love of nature and the countryside. Paul at times almost is nature personified, especially with his wild mood swings and changeability that accompanies every Spring. Characters that move from the country to the city usually worsen physically. His love of Willey farm extends to everything there as well as the country around it. The alienation that Mrs. Morel fosters between the children and their father has echoes in pushing them toward middle-class attainment as well as the emotional schism caused by their dependence on her. These disruptions from the natural flow of things causes many of the problems within the novel.
There are two quotes in this section that seem to be a key to the book. As Miriam looks at one of Paul’s paintings, she asks:
"Why do I like this so?"
Always something in his breast shrank from these close, intimate, dazzled looks of hers.
"Why DO you?" he asked.
"I don't know. It seems so true."
"It's because—it's because there is scarcely any shadow in it; it's more shimmery, as if I'd painted the shimmering protoplasm in the leaves and everywhere, and not the stiffness of the shape. That seems dead to me. Only this shimmeriness is the real living. The shape is a dead crust. The shimmer is inside really."
Throughout the book, Lawrence also tries to capture that shimmer inside. The second quote comes as Paul is arguing with his mother: “But damn your happiness! So long as life’s full, it doesn’t matter whether it’s happy or not.” Paul, the thinly-veiled Lawrentian character, seeks to live fully and constantly develop himself and others. Yet he is unable to have a healthy connection with a woman, critically hindering his development and full life. Lawrence does not shrink from showing Paul’s faults and exposing him to criticism, a trait that partially offsets the dislike of Paul with a grudging appreciation of Lawrence.
Mrs. Morel’s life is unfulfilled so she lives through Paul in a manner that is well beyond vicarious in manner. When Paul wins prizes, her response is “I knew we could do it.” (emphasis mine) Mrs. Morel wants Paul to move up into the middle class (despite his declaration otherwise) and find a nice girl to make Paul happy. It is always interesting to compare Mars. Morel’s thoughts on how she thinks should be versus her own actions. For example, despite the mother’s statement that “say if a man is GENUINE, as he is, and a girl is fond of him—then—it should be all right,” her appreciation of her husband (who is nothing if not genuine) is anything but all right. She hates Miriam because she feels the girl undermines Paul’s joy, when the unhappiness is all Paul’s doing. Miriam is actually very nourishing and supportive of Paul. Mrs. Morel feels Miriam wants to “absorb” Paul when the absorption quality is of Paul by his mother. Yet Mrs. Morel is astute enough not to go beyond stating her opinion when asked in order not “to have any open rupture” with Paul. Paul and his mother would have sham arguments to “get over the stress of emotion,” joshing each other in a loving manner. Yet Paul has open anger toward his mother at times when she shows her age or sickness. And Paul’s anger is triggered toward Miriam when his mother talks about her. He recognizes that Miriam gives him warmth and insight, yet that clearly isn't enough for him.
Paul continuously claims all he can give Miriam is friendship: “I don't think one person would ever monopolize me—be everything to me.” The irony is thick, even though both Paul and his mother realize that he will eventually find a woman to marry. The baggage he would bring to such a relationship is guaranteed to kill it before it will have a chance. It is also interesting to see the contradiction in the ways Paul and his mother view Miriam. Paul felt that Miriam “did hold the best of him…(but) he could not stay with her because she did not take the rest of him…”, clearly at odds with his mother’s concern of Miriam absorbing him. And Paul’s indecision festers, thinking he belongs to Miriam and that feeling is enough. Both Paul and Miriam are very similar in some respects—both are close to their mothers, and while Miriam is described as being mystical in regards to religion, Paul has the same feeling with nature. Even more ironic is how similar Miriam is to Paul’s mother regarding her dissatisfaction with “her lot,” wanting to do something but plaintively asking “what chance HAVE I?” Paul’s emotions are clearly ignited by Miriam as they swing wildly, from rage to gentleness and back again very quickly, and he is usually unable to know or explain why. Yet he describes Miriam as having “extreme emotion.”
Miriam’s sexuality causes the split within Paul to deepen. He is aroused when she puts her arm in his or when she suggestively and intimately appreciates flowers. His response, unknown to him and usually described as his blood being like a flame inside him, overwhelms him and causes him to draw away from her. Yet another irony is Paul’s appreciation of nature while he is unable to experience the natural arousal without shame (and anger at Miriam for ‘causing’ it). Clara is in contrast to Miriam in that she arouses Paul differently, intellectually as well as physically. Since Clara was still married, however, she was effectively ‘off-limits’ and therefore not threatening. Paul’s constant prodding of Clara into the rupture of her marriage obviously signals a trouble for him. And at one point in his questioning, he even puts the finger on his parent’s marital woes without realizing it. Clara acts very aloof with the younger Paul, apparently for both societal and personal reasons. At the end of this section, Clara highlights the immaturity of Paul in discussing his relationship with Miriam and shows her disdain:
"How do you know what she is?"
"I do! I know she wants a sort of soul union."
"But how do you know what she wants?"
"I've been with her for seven years."
"And you haven't found out the very first thing about her."
"What's that?"
"That she doesn't want any of your soul communion. That's your own imagination. She wants you."
He pondered over this. Perhaps he was wrong.
"But she seems—" he began.
"You've never tried," she answered.
Because of Paul’s repeated misunderstanding of Miriam, I think it is safe to say you have to discount or question all of his statements about her throughout the book.
One last observation on the novel is Lawrence’s obvious love of nature and the countryside. Paul at times almost is nature personified, especially with his wild mood swings and changeability that accompanies every Spring. Characters that move from the country to the city usually worsen physically. His love of Willey farm extends to everything there as well as the country around it. The alienation that Mrs. Morel fosters between the children and their father has echoes in pushing them toward middle-class attainment as well as the emotional schism caused by their dependence on her. These disruptions from the natural flow of things causes many of the problems within the novel.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Sons and Lovers: Chapters 1 – 6 discussion
Sons and Lovers has been a challenge for me. I love Lawrence’s style and find the book quite powerful, but every one of the characters disgust me so much that at times I don’t look forward to reading it. Part One (Chapters 1 through 6) covers up through the eldest son William’s death and Paul’s pneumonia.
Nature permeates the writing, springing forth all around even when not explicitly described. The vitality of the surroundings infuses the work. Small joys are magnified in the family’s daily life. Chapter 1 starts off magnificently, with descriptions that you can feel. Mr. and Mrs. Morel are sympathetic characters at first, but all of that is dashed before the end of the chapter. The scene where Walter locks his pregnant wife out in the cold, then falls into a drunken stupor, is moving. And yet…
Mrs. Morel’s despair at her situation (“What have I to do with all this? Even the child I am going to have! It doesn’t seem as if I were taken into account” and “I wait, and what I wait for can never come”) ends up in revolting thoughts about her pregnancy with Paul (“She did not want it.” “She despised him, and was tied to him. This coming child was too much for her”). All that changes with Paul’s birth but the self-centeredness of her thoughts is contradicted by her dutiful, if most times grudging, behavior toward her husband.
Mr. Morel, despite Lawrence painting him as a monster, ends up being the one sympathetic character for me. His wife’s behavior toward him signals a foreshadowing for her children: “She could not be content with the little he might be; she would have him the much that he ought to be. So, in seeking to make him nobler than he could be, she destroyed him.” And what is meant to be a sympathetic note for her (“She saw him listen deferentially, but without understanding. This killed her efforts at a finer intimacy, and she had flashes of fear”) rebounds to highlight her own lack of interest in his pastimes. The scene where he wakes from his drunken stupor after locking his wife outside, showing no fear of supposed burglars, ends in his comical scampering upstairs ahead of her. His fear of her is well placed and is laughably demonstrated several times.
It is painful to watch his “sensuous flame of life” slowly go out, extinguished by work, physical ailments, and his family’s palpable hate. His wife has poisoned the household against him, yet she hates his desire to stay away as well. Walter embodies the impotence of fatherhood, reacting badly to his displacement from within the family. Seeing the poison spread to the children is bitter. Paul looks at his mother and “it hurt the boy keenly, this feeling about her that she had never had her life’s fulfillment.” Notably absent is any feeling like that for his father. Any tenderness shown by the father is rebuffed.
Paul’s sensitivity and discomfort growing up is captured well by Lawrence. He feels out of place in the community and is hypersensitive to everything around him. His shyness and embarrassment with girls is overcome in his contact with the older women at work. Yet there is little to endear him to the reader. The relationship with his mother is uncomfortable to watch. The discord between husband and wife manifests in an unhealthy relationship between mother and sons, which further leads to internal strains within the boys.
The scenes with William’s fiancé highlight the divide the mother has created within the boys: on one side is their sexual desire, on the other is the ideal that the mother has instilled within them. Not that Louisa Lily Denys Western was a good choice for William, but his wild swings of mood in talking with her reflect the conflict of reconciling the two competing desires. The split that had been within the family now appears within the boys. The strain on William is apparently what makes him susceptible to death.
Maybe it’s a little ironic that my feeling toward the book has a similar split feeling.
Nature permeates the writing, springing forth all around even when not explicitly described. The vitality of the surroundings infuses the work. Small joys are magnified in the family’s daily life. Chapter 1 starts off magnificently, with descriptions that you can feel. Mr. and Mrs. Morel are sympathetic characters at first, but all of that is dashed before the end of the chapter. The scene where Walter locks his pregnant wife out in the cold, then falls into a drunken stupor, is moving. And yet…
Mrs. Morel’s despair at her situation (“What have I to do with all this? Even the child I am going to have! It doesn’t seem as if I were taken into account” and “I wait, and what I wait for can never come”) ends up in revolting thoughts about her pregnancy with Paul (“She did not want it.” “She despised him, and was tied to him. This coming child was too much for her”). All that changes with Paul’s birth but the self-centeredness of her thoughts is contradicted by her dutiful, if most times grudging, behavior toward her husband.
Mr. Morel, despite Lawrence painting him as a monster, ends up being the one sympathetic character for me. His wife’s behavior toward him signals a foreshadowing for her children: “She could not be content with the little he might be; she would have him the much that he ought to be. So, in seeking to make him nobler than he could be, she destroyed him.” And what is meant to be a sympathetic note for her (“She saw him listen deferentially, but without understanding. This killed her efforts at a finer intimacy, and she had flashes of fear”) rebounds to highlight her own lack of interest in his pastimes. The scene where he wakes from his drunken stupor after locking his wife outside, showing no fear of supposed burglars, ends in his comical scampering upstairs ahead of her. His fear of her is well placed and is laughably demonstrated several times.
It is painful to watch his “sensuous flame of life” slowly go out, extinguished by work, physical ailments, and his family’s palpable hate. His wife has poisoned the household against him, yet she hates his desire to stay away as well. Walter embodies the impotence of fatherhood, reacting badly to his displacement from within the family. Seeing the poison spread to the children is bitter. Paul looks at his mother and “it hurt the boy keenly, this feeling about her that she had never had her life’s fulfillment.” Notably absent is any feeling like that for his father. Any tenderness shown by the father is rebuffed.
Paul’s sensitivity and discomfort growing up is captured well by Lawrence. He feels out of place in the community and is hypersensitive to everything around him. His shyness and embarrassment with girls is overcome in his contact with the older women at work. Yet there is little to endear him to the reader. The relationship with his mother is uncomfortable to watch. The discord between husband and wife manifests in an unhealthy relationship between mother and sons, which further leads to internal strains within the boys.
The scenes with William’s fiancé highlight the divide the mother has created within the boys: on one side is their sexual desire, on the other is the ideal that the mother has instilled within them. Not that Louisa Lily Denys Western was a good choice for William, but his wild swings of mood in talking with her reflect the conflict of reconciling the two competing desires. The split that had been within the family now appears within the boys. The strain on William is apparently what makes him susceptible to death.
Maybe it’s a little ironic that my feeling toward the book has a similar split feeling.
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