by G. Jack Urso
Lady Chatterley’s Lover is probably the
one book by D.H. Lawrence that most people have heard of, even if they have not actually
read it. Of course, literary scholars turn to the novel to explore the many layers
of meaning in Lawrence’s writing, usually centered on the sexual aspects of the
novel. While certainly notable, the sexual themes are merely symptomatic of
deeper issues that Lawrence explores, primarily the effect of industrialization
on the individual in 19th century Britain.Many of the
characters in Lady Chatterley’s Lover
reveal the inner truth of their lives through their sexual natures. The lower
down the social order, the more comfortable the characters are with their
sexuality, suggesting that the closer a person is to nature the less repressed
they are sexually. This is no more true than with Lady Chatterley’s lover, Oliver
Mellors, the gamekeeper. The source for this social and psychological
dysfunction, to Lawrence, is the dehumanizing force of industrialization.
Lawrence
explores these themes in Lady Chatterley’s
Lover by creating symmetrical relationships between key characters and
using symbolic imagery to reinforce those themes with the reader.
Symmetry
The American Heritage Dictionary, Second College
Edition (1982), defines symmetry as “A relationship of characteristic
correspondence, equivalence, or identity among constituents of a system.”
Connie and Clifford Chatterley, Oliver Mellors, and Mrs. Bolton all nurse some
kind of psychological wound, in that the dehumanizing force of industrialism
affects each of their lives.
Connie
Chatterley is the character most readers identify with. At the most basic
level, Connie’s journey of sexual self-discovery is one with which we all
participate in at some point in our lives.
Far from the
“Scotch hills or Sussex downs” she is accustomed to, Connie Chatterley is as
much a stranger to the “coal-and-iron Midlands” as we are. As a result, she
serves as the medium through which the reader uncovers the novel’s themes and
characters, creating a subliminal connection between reader and character.
Lawrence also
introduces various aspects of the novel to the reader as Connie herself
discovers them; so she becomes an unwitting tour guide of sorts. As a result,
the reader forms a natural sympathy with Connie, whether or not we identify
with her psycho-sexual emotional crisis. This enables Lawrence to further the
narrative naturally, without any forced expositions by the characters to set up
the action or plot.
Connie
Chatterley comes to Wragby Hall to take her place alongside her titled,
crippled, and impotent husband in his family’s ancestral home. The First World
War has just ended, and the physical and psychological scars are dug as deeply
into the human landscape has they are mirrored in the smoky, scarred, sterile
landscapes of the Midlands. When Connie begins to experience the awakening of
her sexual nature, she is set in the plush, fertile gardens and forest surround
Wragby. The forest around Wragby itself is healing as its trees were harvested
to build trenches during the war. These scenes create a symmetrical
relationship between the characters and the land which reinforces Lawrence’s
themes in the novel.
The dehumanizing
force of industrialization continues to work in the outside in the town of Tevershall.
The landscape becomes a psychological mirror reflecting on the outside what is
occurring on the inside. By creating this symmetrical relationship, Lawrence is
also preparing us to examine our own natures and question the impact of society
and technology on ourselves — a concept which still appeals to us in the 21st Century.
Chatting
up the Chatterleys
Clifford
Chatterley’s crippled physical condition is an allegory for the impact of
industrialism on the human spirit. He is
paralyzed as a result of wounds received in war, the ultimate expression of the
dehumanizing nature of technology. He is as sterile as the infertile Midlands
landscape and despite his deep psychological wounds, or because of them, he
functions with the impersonality of a machine.
In Chapter 2,
Lawrence describes Clifford Chatterley:
“And he was neither liked nor disliked by the
people: he was just a part of things, like the pit-bank and Wragby itself.” (Lawrence
15)
Lawrence
establishes Clifford Chatterley as personifying the characteristics of the
social class he comes from and the scarred landscape he is lord over. This
relationship is symmetrical in that both the land and the man reflect the
traits of the other. It is also symbolic as Lawrence uses this relationship to
show the effects of industrialization on the psyche.
There is a dark,
and to borrow a phrase from William Blake, fearful symmetry between Connie and
Clifford Chatterley. Both are dealing with their sexual natures. Connie,
however, confronts it while Clifford avoids it. Connie releases and explores
her sexual self in nature, away from the palatial symbol of industrialism,
Wragby Hall.
Connie
Chatterley crosses the lines of class to love Mellors, who has also rejected
the constraints of his own class. Likewise there is a symmetrical relationship
between Clifford Chatterley and Mrs. Bolton, his nurse and caretaker. Rather
than cross the lines of class to love each other, as Connie and Mellors do,
they stay within the boundaries of their respective class divisions.
Clifford
Chatterley’s expression of his sexual needs take on an oedipal form in his
relationship with Mrs. Bolton. Indeed, it cannot be said they even love one
another. Mrs. Bolton still harbors great pain from the loss of her husband,
and, regarding Lord Chatterley, “she despised him and hated him” (Lawrence 292).
To Mrs. Bolton, Clifford represents the establishment that labeled her husband
a coward and deprived her from full compensation following his death. Inwardly
resenting the ruling class, Mrs. Bolton is clearly obtaining some kind of
perverse satisfaction by providing Lord Chatterley with what Lady Chatterley
could not. The rot of industrialization and war permeates their relationship,
as much as nature nurtures the relationship between Connie Chatterley and
Oliver Mellors.
For his part,
Clifford becomes “much sharper and keener than the real man he used to be” (Lawrence
291). Lawrence further describes Clifford as “letting go all his manhood, and
sinking back to a childish position that was really perverse” and “as if his
passivity and prostitution to the Magna Mater [Mrs. Bolton] gave him insight
into material business affairs, and lent him a certain remarkable inhuman force”
(Lawrence 291). Connie’s experience is passionately human, expressed in nature,
and she becomes pregnant in what is a symbolic, human, fertile image. This is
opposed to the sterile “inhuman” force that impregnates Clifford as a result of
his intimacy with Mrs. Bolton.
Despite the keen
mind that allows him success in his writing, or the technical work associated
with the mines, Clifford is never able to see his wife drifting away from him.
As Mrs. Bolton thinks to herself in Chapter 16: “Any man in his senses must
have known his wife was in love with someone else, and was going to leave him”
(Lawrence 289). While Lord Chatterley was not “inwardly surprised” at the news,
he could never bring his conscious mind to accept it. In the end, what Clifford
Chatterley is refusing to accept is his paralysis.
Clifford may
overcompensate by playing the pompous lord of the manor, the learned man of
letters, or the hard-nosed industrialist, but in those quiet moments with Mrs.
Bolton as he reverts to a man-child he reveals the extent of his paralysis. The
disconnection with his human self, however crippled physically, disables him
emotionally.
Lawrence
juxtaposes the relationships between Connie and Mellors with that of Clifford
and Mrs. Bolton to define what he believes is a “healthy” relationship. In his
letter to Katherine Mansfield in 1918, Lawrence is clear that be believes men
must assert some kind of dominance in their relationships with women:
“I do think men must go ahead absolutely in
front of their women. Consequently, the women must follow as it were
unquestioningly.” (Boulton 163)
Mellors
establishes dominance over Connie sexually while Clifford is sexually
submissive to Mrs. Bolton. While healthy passion is the hallmark of Connie’s
relationship with Mellors, the oedipal overtones of Clifford’s relationship
with Mrs. Bolton define for the reader what Lawrence considers an “unhealthy”
relationship; specifically, one in which the male is submissive to the female. Considering
certain homoerotic imagery in Lawrence’s other works, such as Women in Love, the question of
Lawrence’s definition of a healthy sexuality is not so straightforward a
matter.
Symbolism
Symbolism is
defined in the American Heritage
Dictionary, Second College Edition (1982) as “The practice of representing
things by means of symbols or of attributing symbolic meanings or significance
to objects, events, or relationships.” The physical wounds of Clifford
Chatterley and the “wounded” landscape of Tavershall, for example, are symbolic
of the dehumanizing force of industrialism. Lawrence makes this link in chapter
five when the narrative turns to talk of a strike:
“The colliers at Tavershall were talking
again of a strike. And it seemed to Connie there again, it was not a
manifestation of energy, it was the bruise of the war that had been in
abeyance, slowly rising to the surface and creating the great ache of unrest,
the stupor of the discontent. The bruise was deep, deep, deep-the bruise of a
false and inhuman war. It would take many years for the living blood, deep
inside their souls and bodies. And it would need a new hope.” (Lawrence 50)
Lawrence defines
that “new hope” in the book as the celebration of the self by the exploration
of experience of our sexual natures. The love created by the deep intimacy we
see in such relationships as the one Connie has with Mellor, is, to Lawrence,
the only thing that heals the wounds of war, or from the dehumanizing effects
of industrialism.
The bleak,
scarred, sterile Midlands landscape around Tevershall is symbolic of the
dehumanizing effect of industrialization. Indeed, industrialization is seen to
have sucked the life out of the town. In Chapter 9, Clifford, having been
stirred by his relationship with Mrs. Bolton to show interest in the world,
takes notice of what is going on in the mines.
“Tevershall pits were running thin . . . Tevershal
had once been a famous mine, and had made money. But its best days were over.”
(Lawrence 105)
Clifford, and by
extraction, Western society itself, “were running thin,” their “best days were
over.” Clifford is spurred into action to prevent the inevitable loss of a
limited resource, in this case, coal. While at first one might think that
Clifford Chatterley is finally snapping out of his funk, he is, in fact,
fighting reality.
The highly
ordered class structure of English society may have served a purpose a thousand
years ago, but its time was past. That was, in part, what World War I was
about, or, at least, its affect. Who else would be able to see that if not an
officer like Clifford Chatterley, who served in the trenches and was crippled
for his efforts? Nevertheless, he does not. By attempting to save the mines and
trying to turn a profit again, Clifford is attempting to save himself and
justify the existence of a system that has seen “its best days,” thereby also
justifying his own crippled existence. To Lawrence, this is a form of madness.
In Chapter 11,
Connie goes on a drive through the surrounding area. Lawrence describes the
blight of the landscape:
“the blackened brick dwellings, the black
slate roofs glistening their sharp edges, the mud black with coal-dust, the
pavements wet and black.” (Lawrence 152)
“The Wesleyan chapel, higher up, was of
blackened brick and stood behind iron railings and blackened scrubs.” (Lawrence
152)
“The church was away on the left, among
black trees.” (Lawrence 153)
“There was something uncanny and underground
about it all. It was an under-world. And quite incalculable. How shall we
understand the reactions in half-corpses?” (Lawrence 153)
Lawrence is
using repetitions of the word black
to underscore the killing effect industrialism is having on the town. A
connection is beginning made between the work that sustains Tevershall, the
mines, and what the town is turning into — a half-dead town on the verge of
extinction. Tevershall itself seems to be turning inside out, becoming a dark
surface reflection of the mines. How much more so than the people who inhabit
the town, or rule from Wragby Hall, or, perhaps, even ourselves, the readers?
Does industrialization, now incarnate in the technology age of the 21st century,
continuing to rob us of our humanity and life? If Lawrence were to write Lady Chatterley’s Lover today, would he
make Clifford Chatterley a crippled software magnate? A Bill Gates in a
wheelchair? One can only speculate.
The Effects
of Industrialism on the Human Spirit
In Chapter 10,
we share Mellors’ thoughts as he walks through the wood surrounding Wragby
Hall, considering his previous withdrawal from society:
“It was not women’s fault, or even love’s
fault, nor the fault of sex. The fault lay there, out there, in those evil
electric lights and diabolical rattlings of engines. There, in the world of the
mechanical greedy, greedy mechanism, and mechanized greed . . .ready to destroy
whatever did not conform.” (Lawrence 119)
Industrialism
leads to a loss of individuality for Lawrence. As Tevershall slowly took on the
physical characteristics of the mines, are we not also in danger of taking on
the characteristics of mechanized industry and lose what makes us human in the
process? Mellors echoes Lawrence’s thoughts on this matter:
“All the lot. Their spunk’s gone
dead—motor-cars and cinemas and aeroplanes suck the last bit out of them. I
tell you every generations breeds a more rabbit generation, with indiarubber
tubing for guts and tin legs and tin faces. Tin people! It’s all a steady sort
of bolshevism-just killing off the human thing, and worshipping the mechanical
thing. Money, money, money, money! All the modern lot get their real kick out
of killing the old human feeling out of man, making mincemeat of the old Adam
and the old Eve.” (Lawrence 217)
Lawrence is
making clear what he has been hinting at through the portrayal of Clifford as
paralyzed, the sterility of the scarred Midlands landscape, and Connie’s own
physical wasting away before she gets involved with Mellors. These are symbols
for the major theme in the novel – the dehumanizing effect of
industrialization. The pace of our lives increases to keep up with the pace of
technology. As our lives becomes more dependent on our machines, we thus become
more like those machines.
Bolshevism is
seen a force that further dehumanizes us. Early in the book, the character
Charlie May says, “Each man is a machine-part, and the driving power of the
machine, hate: hate of the bourgeois! That, to me, is bolshevism (Lawrence 38).”
Indeed, to
Lawrence it appears that bolshevism is at the very apex of the expression of
this dehumanizing force. Remarks critical of bolshevism are made throughout the
book by different characters. The reference to Adam and Eve at the end of
Mellors’ speech in Chapter 15 reminds one about how they felt ashamed at their
own nakedness after being exiled from Eden. After Mellors' speech on the
dehumanizing effect of industrialism, he and Connie quite literally return to
nature.
The
Bacchanal
Shortly after
the aforementioned scene in Chapter 15, comes the highly symbolic scene where
Connie and Mellors both go out dancing and laughing in the rain naked. The
scene is rich with symbolism and evocative of an ancient Dionysian rite. They
are like Adam and Eve returning to Eden, unashamed of their own nakedness.
Lawrence sets the stage for the scene in Chapter 10, when he describes the new
sensations stirring within Connie Chatterley, “Ah yes, to be passionate like a
baccante, like a bacchanal, fleeing wild through the woods” (Lawrence 136).
It is no
coincidence that Lawrence places this symbolic ritual after Mellors’ speech on
the effects of industrialization on the human being. Lawrence is suggesting
that at some point in our lives we all need to run “wild through the woods” to
reclaim our true natures, or, at least, our natural state of being.
Self-Discovery
In Chapter 7 we
encounter Lady Chatterley as she examines her naked body in a full-length
mirror. It is clearly a scene symbolic of self-discovery. As Connie follows the
contours of her body and considers the changes brought on by age, we share in
the experience as she considers past loves, her insecurities, and vanity.
Lawrence’s ideal of love is at least partly defined in this scene as a
“healthy, human sensuality that warms the blood and freshens the whole being” (Lawrence
71). Connie desires an intimate, physical knowledge of herself, not an abstract
philosophical concept. Indeed, in the scene following, an exchange between
Tommy Dukes and Harry WInterslow strikes a chord with Connie.
“Certainly nothing but the spirit in us is
worth having,” said Winterslow.
“Think so?-Give me the resurrection of the
body! Said Dukes.
“But it’s come, in time-when we’ve shoved the cerebral stone
away a bit, the money and the rest. Then we’ll get a democracy of touch,
instead of a democracy of pocket.”
Something echoed inside Connie. “Give me the
resurrection of the body! The democracy of touch!” She didn’t know what the
latter meant, but it comforted her, as meaningless things do.” (Lawrence 75-76)
The period of
time Connie spends in Italy provides us with two related events that have a
symmetrical relationship. While in Venice, Michaelis, her lover from early in
the book, turns up. Shortly afterward, she receives a letter form Clifford in
which she learns Mellors’ wife has turned up. As Lord Chatterley will later
refuse to divorce Lady Chatterley, so too does Mellors’ wife, Bertha. These
events serve to move Connie and Mellors closer to the point of escaping Wragby
once and for all.
The
Boulevard of Broken Themes
Lady Chatterley’s Lover compels us to
confront our own sexuality and to question how free we actually are in that
regard. Certainly, the themes of sexual freedom and the freedom to love are
invariably mentioned in any discussion of this novel; however, Lawrence is
dealing with something a bit more complex than sexual liberation alone. Rather,
it is the danger of industrialization as a threat to our humanity that is the
driving force behind the action. This is a theme that appeared in other genres
after World War I. Fritz Lang’s film Metropolis
(1927), released about the same time as Lady
Chatterley’s Lover, deals very prominently with this theme. In this way,
Lawrence is echoing the anxieties of his generation.
Since the pace
of technology is not likely to cease anytime soon, the themes Lawrence explores
in Lady Chatterley’s Lover will likewise
remain relevant for many generations to come. It is the timeless quality of the
major theme, discovering who we are by exploring and experiencing our sexual
nature, which brings us back to this important novel. Lawrence encourages us to
reassess our place in society and seek out our true natures by experiencing the
close, intimate joy two people share in an equal, loving relationship. Few
other experiences leave us so vulnerable and open as when we are in love – when
the essential truth of our being is exposed to another human for evaluation,
judgment, and, hopefully, acceptance.
Works Cited
Boulton, James T. The Selected Letters of D.H. Lawrence.
Cambridge: University Press, 1997. Print.
Lawrence, D.H. Lady Chatterley’s Lover. London: Penguin Books
Ltd., 1994. Print.
Lawrence, D.H. Lady Chatterley’s Lover. London: Penguin Books
Ltd., 1994. Print.
Related
Content
● ● ●
No comments:
Post a Comment