This blog post is playing mean tricks on me and refusing to stick around. Hopefully this will work. Happy reading!
If only man was swept off the face of the earth, creation would go on so marvellously, with a new start, non-human. Man is one of the mistakes of creation—like the ichthyosauri.
OUCH. D. H. Lawrence holds back his criticism of neither man nor dinosaur in Women in Love, so I’m not going to bother with reverence either. Lawrence liked ichthyosauri about as much as I liked his book.
We’ll start with the protagonists. Lawrence isn’t the effusive type, so naturally his characters have little to brag about. Rupert Birkin is described as pale and sickly, while Gerald Crich wears a “sharp impersonal face” and carries himself with “mechanical relentlessness.” Gudrun is said to be “beautiful, passive, soft-skinned, soft-limbed” with a confidence that contrasts with her sister Ursula’s “sensitive expectancy,” but both apparently have the “remote, virgin look of modern girls”… whatever the hell that means. Minor characters include assorted…
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