Men writing books about women - this is always a tricky business. Male readers find it too dramatic, female readers judge mercilessly. Moreover, the book was banned for so many years and remained the subject of hot disputes about sexuality and adultery in the literature. Everything about Lady Chatterley (publications, adaptations) brought about a scandal to arouse, undoubtedly, a greater interest from the audience.
But taking the rubbish away, this is a book about a WOMAN, her world, her pain, her inner conflict ... this is all about Constance Chatterley, her longing to be loved, to be fulfilled, to be listened to. She embodies so many women who are too suppressed by the society, ravished by dead words become obscene and dead ideas become obsessions. No matter in what century we live, a woman is always in conflict with her body and her body is in conflict with her mind:
What a frail, easily-hurt, rather pathetic thing a naked human body is: somehow a little unfinished, incomplete!..
The two moments I consider my favourite in the book are when Connie undresses herself in front of the mirror investigating her fading body and when she is holding little chickens crying with despair over her failed motherhood. If one can read these pieces remaining calm I really envy them (or rather pity). If a man can understand a woman like Lawrence did he has reached the enlightenment.
When I first read the book I was left frustrated about the end, it seemed undone and overdone at the same time. But then it occurred to me it was not about the end, it was about the process like life itself, the process of cherishing a genius of Lawrence as a linguist and as a sage.
What a frail, easily-hurt, rather pathetic thing a naked human body is: somehow a little unfinished, incomplete!..
The two moments I consider my favourite in the book are when Connie undresses herself in front of the mirror investigating her fading body and when she is holding little chickens crying with despair over her failed motherhood. If one can read these pieces remaining calm I really envy them (or rather pity). If a man can understand a woman like Lawrence did he has reached the enlightenment.
When I first read the book I was left frustrated about the end, it seemed undone and overdone at the same time. But then it occurred to me it was not about the end, it was about the process like life itself, the process of cherishing a genius of Lawrence as a linguist and as a sage.
No comments:
Post a Comment