On D.H. Lawrence’s ‘The Rainbow’

Was woman made of man, or man of woman?
Is life numinous or are we mere automaton?

If the latter, then what keeps the ‘forces’ unified?
So, no, it’s consummation: Being multiplied

Infinite times, so oneness with the infinite.
These are the themes ‘The Rainbow’ holds within it…

Ursula’s mental independence, elicited,
Makes her reject her pervert teacher Winifred,

As well as the women’s movement, brought to life
Solely by men’s weakness. Yet no wife,

She can’t find a man who’s free of stale bureaucracy;
And so she grows to bitterly hate democracy.

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Henry Williamson’s ‘The Dark Lantern’ (‘A Chronicle of Ancient Sunlight’ Book 1)

An amazing précis of the late Victorian, encompassing so much;
Its characters being Types, yet blooded figures you could almost touch,

From quiet, malleable Hetty, and her Wooster-like brother Hughie,
And their father, a neo-Falstaffian wag who thinks Tennyson is phooey,

An embodiment of steamships and the City, such malarkey;
While Hetty’s husband Richard manifests soft-patriarchy,

A near-autistic categoriser of butterflies and gloom.
And yet, already quickening inside of Hetty’s womb

Is the Blackshirt generation, destined to shake the shoals of the earth
(Only at the end of the book does the star of the sequence arrive at birth.)

D.H. Lawrence’s The Trespasser

This story is based on real events (its Wagnerian echoes seem forced).
Helena is a modern girl who flees both cold and warmth;

An anemone, to her, is just a kaleidoscopic shape
But, for her lover Siegmund, is a thing to evaluate;

He gets beneath its skin; but the flesh is distasteful to her,
She is positively anaemic, exhausts her passions in a blur,

Til Siegmund’s violin is the only thing that still remains of him.
The cold condemning eyes of his wife, the grave eyes of his children

No longer matter now, for he is in an empty place
(Niflheim, limbo) forgetting Helena’s empty face.