David Herbert Lawrence
Women in Love
Chapter I
Sisters
Ursula and Gudrun Brangwen sat one morning in the windowbay of their fathers
house in Beldover working and talking Ursula was stitching a piece of
brightlycoloured embroidery and Gudrun was drawing upon a board which she held
on her knee They were mostly silent talking as their thoughts strayed through
their minds
»Ursula« said Gudrun »dont you really want to get married« Ursula laid
her embroidery in her lap and looked up Her face was calm and considerate
»I dont know« she replied »It depends how you mean«
Gudrun was slightly taken aback She watched her sister for some moments
»Well« she said ironically »it usually means one thing But dont you
think anyhow youd be « she darkened slightly »in a better position than
you are in now«
A shadow came over Ursulas face
»I might« she said »But Im not sure«
Again Gudrun paused slightly irritated She wanted to be quite definite
»You dont think one needs the experience of having been married« she
asked
»Do you think it need be an experience« replied Ursula
»Bound to be in some way or other« said Gudrun coolly »Possibly
undesirable but bound to be an experience of some sort«
»Not really« said Ursula »More likely to be the end of experience.«
Gudrun sat very still to attend to this
»Of course« she said »theres that to consider« This brought the
conversation to a close Gudrun almost angrily took up her rubber and began to
rub out part of her drawing Ursula stitched absorbedly
»You wouldnt consider a good offer« asked Gudrun
»I think Ive rejected several« said Ursula
»Really« Gudrun flushed dark »But anything really worth while Have you
really«
»A thousand a year and an awfully nice man I liked him awfully« said
Ursula
»Really But werent you fearfully tempted«
»In the abstract but not in the concrete,« said Ursula »When it comes to
the point one isnt even tempted oh if I were tempted Id marry like a
shot Im only tempted not to« The faces of both sisters suddenly lit up with
amusement
»Isnt it an amazing thing« cried Gudrun »how strong the temptation is
not to« They both laughed looking at each other In their hearts they were
frightened
There was a long pause whilst Ursula stitched and Gudrun went on with her
sketch The sisters were women Ursula twentysix and Gudrun twentyfive But
both had the remote virgin look of modern girls sisters of Artemis rather than
of Hebe Gudrun was very beautiful passive softskinned softlimbed She wore
a dress of darkblue silky stuff with ruches of blue and green linen lace in
the neck and sleeves and she had emeraldgreen stockings Her look of
confidence and diffidence contrasted with Ursulas sensitive expectancy The
provincial people intimidated by Gudruns perfect sangfroid and exclusive
bareness of manner said of her »She is a smart woman« She had just come back
from London where she had spent several years working at an artschool as a
student and living a studio life
»I was hoping now for a man to come along« Gudrun said suddenly catching
her underlip between her teeth and making a strange grimace half sly smiling
half anguish Ursula was afraid
»So you have come home expecting him here« she laughed
»Oh my dear« cried Gudrun strident »I wouldnt go out of my way to look
for him But if there did happen to come along a highly attractive individual of
sufficient means well « she tailed off ironically Then she looked
searchingly at Ursula as if to probe her »Dont you find yourself getting
bored« she asked of her sister »Dont you find that things fail to
materialise Nothing materalises Everything withers in the bud«
»What withers in the bud« asked Ursula
»Oh everything oneself things in general« There was a pause whilst
each sister vaguely considered her fate
»It does frighten one« said Ursula and again there was a pause »But do
you hope to get anywhere by just marrying«
»It seems to be the inevitable next step« said Gudrun Ursula pondered
this with a little bitterness She was a class mistress herself in Willey
Green Grammar School as she had been for some years
»I know« she said »it seems like that when one thinks in the abstract. But
really imagine it imagine any man one knows imagine him coming home to one
every evening and saying Hello and giving one a kiss «
There was a blank pause
»Yes« said Gudrun in a narrowed voice »Its just impossible The man
makes it impossible«
»Of course theres children « said Ursula doubtfully
Gudruns face hardened
»Do you really want children Ursula« she asked coldly A dazzled baffled
look came on Ursulas face
»One feels it is still beyond one« she said
»Do you feel like that« asked Gudrun »I get no feeling whatever from the
thought of bearing children«
Gudrun looked at Ursula with a masklike expressionless face Ursula
knitted her brows
»Perhaps it isnt genuine« she faltered »Perhaps one doesnt really want
them in ones soul only superficially« A hardness came over Gudruns face
She did not want to be too definite
»When one thinks of other peoples children « said Ursula
Again Gudrun looked at her sister almost hostile
»Exactly« she said to close the conversation
The two sisters worked on in silence Ursula having always that strange
brightness of an essential flame that is caught meshed contravened She lived
a good deal by herself to herself working passing on from day to day and
always thinking trying to lay hold on life to grasp it in her own
understanding Her active living was suspended but underneath in the darkness
something was coming to pass If only she could break through the last
integuments She seemed to try and put her hands out like an infant in the
womb and she could not not yet Still she had a strange prescience an
intimation of something yet to come
She laid down her work and looked at her sister She thought Gudrun so
charming so infinitely charming in her softness and her fine exquisite
richness of texture and delicacy of line There was a certain playfulness about
her too such a piquancy or ironic suggestion such an untouched reserve Ursula
admired her with all her soul
»Why did you come home Prune« she asked
Gudrun knew she was being admired She sat back from her drawing and looked
at Ursula from under her finelycurved lashes
»Why did I come back Ursula« she repeated »I have asked myself a thousand
times«
»And dont you know«
»Yes I think I do I think my coming back home was just reculer pour mieux
sauter«
And she looked with a long slow look of knowledge at Ursula
»I know« cried Ursula looking slightly dazzled and falsified and as if
she did not know »But where can one jump to«
»Oh it doesnt matter« said Gudrun somewhat superbly »If one jumps over
the edge one is bound to land somewhere«
»But isnt it very risky« asked Ursula
A slow mocking smile dawned on Gudruns face
»Ah« she said laughing »What is it all but words« And so again she
closed the conversation But Ursula was still brooding
»And how do you find home now you have come back to it« she asked
Gudrun paused for some moments coldly before answering Then in a cold
truthful voice she said
»I find myself completely out of it«
»And father«
Gudrun looked at Ursula almost with resentment as if brought to bay
»I havent thought about him Ive refrained« she said coldly
»Yes« wavered Ursula and the conversation was really at an end The
sisters found themselves confronted by a void a terrifying chasm as if they
had looked over the edge
They worked on in silence for some time Gudruns cheek was flushed with
repressed emotion She resented its having been called into being
»Shall we go out and look at that wedding« she asked at length in a voice
that was too casual
»Yes« cried Ursula too eagerly throwing aside her sewing and leaping up
as if to escape something thus betraying the tension of the situation and
causing a friction of dislike to go over Gudruns nerves
As she went upstairs Ursula was aware of the house of her home round about
her And she loathed it the sordid toofamiliar place She was afraid at the
depth of her feeling against the home the milieu the whole atmosphere and
condition of this obsolete life Her feeling frightened her
The two girls were soon walking swiftly down the main road of Beldover a
wide street part shops part dwellinghouses utterly formless and sordid
without poverty Gudrun new from her life in Chelsea and Sussex shrank cruelly
from this amorphous ugliness of a small colliery town in the Midlands Yet
forward she went through the whole sordid gamut of pettiness the long
amorphous gritty street She was exposed to every stare she passed on through
a stretch of torment It was strange that she should have chosen to come back
and test the full effect of this shapeless barren ugliness upon herself Why
had she wanted to submit herself to it did she still want to submit herself to
it the insufferable torture of these ugly meaningless people this defaced
countryside She felt like a beetle toiling in the dust She was filled with
repulsion
They turned off the main road past a black patch of commongarden where
sooty cabbage stumps stood shameless No one thought to be ashamed No one was
ashamed of it all
»It is like a country in an underworld« said Gudrun »The colliers bring it
aboveground with them shovel it up Ursula its marvellous its really
marvellous its really wonderful another world The people are all ghouls
and everything is ghostly Everything is a ghoulish replica of the real world a
replica a ghoul all soiled everything sordid Its like being mad Ursula«
The sisters were crossing a black path through a dark soiled field On the
left was a large landscape a valley with collieries and opposite hills with
cornfields and woods all blackened with distance as if seen through a veil of
crape White and black smoke rose up in steady columns magic within the dark
air Near at hand came the long rows of dwellings approaching curved up the
hillslope in straight lines along the brow of the hill They were of darkened
red brick brittle with dark slate roofs The path on which the sisters walked
was black troddenin by the feet of the recurrent colliers and bounded from
the field by iron fences the stile that led again into the road was rubbed
shiny by the moleskins of the passing miners Now the two girls were going
between some rows of dwellings of the poorer sort Women their arms folded
over their coarse aprons standing gossiping at the end of their block stared
after the Brangwen sisters with that long unwearying stare of aborigines
children called out names
Gudrun went on her way half dazed If this were human life if these were
human beings living in a complete world then what was her own world outside
She was aware of her grassgreen stockings her large grassgreen velour hat
her full soft coat of a strong blue colour And she felt as if she were
treading in the air quite unstable her heart was contracted as if at any
minute she might be precipitated to the ground She was afraid
She clung to Ursula who through long usage was inured to this violation
of a dark uncreated hostile world But all the time her heart was crying as
if in the midst of some ordeal »I want to go back I want to go away I want
not to know it not to know that this exists« Yet she must go forward
Ursula could feel her suffering
»You hate this dont you« she asked
»It bewilders me« stammered Gudrun
»You wont stay long« replied Ursula
And Gudrun went along grasping at release
They drew away from the colliery region over the curve of the hill into
the purer country of the other side towards Willey Green Still the faint
glamour of blackness persisted over the fields and the wooded hills and seemed
darkly to gleam in the air It was a spring day chill with snatches of
sunshine Yellow celandines showed out from the hedgebottoms and in the
cottage gardens of Willey Green currantbushes were breaking into leaf and
little flowers were coming white on the grey alyssum that hung over the stone
walls
Turning they passed down the highroad that went between high banks
towards the church There in the lowest bend of the road low under the trees
stood a little group of expectant people waiting to see the wedding The
daughter of the chief mineowner of the district Thomas Crich was getting
married to a naval officer
»Let us go back« said Gudrun swerving away »There are all those people«
And she hung wavering in the road
»Never mind them« said Ursula »theyre all right They all know me they
dont matter«
»But must we go through them« asked Gudrun
»Theyre quite all right really« said Ursula going forward And together
the two sisters approached the group of uneasy watchful common people They
were chiefly women colliers wives of the more shiftless sort They had
watchful underworld faces
The two sisters held themselves tense and went straight towards the gate
The women made way for them but barely sufficient as if grudging to yield
ground The sisters passed in silence through the stone gateway and up the
steps on the red carpet a policeman estimating their progress
»What price the stockings« said a voice at the back of Gudrun A sudden
fierce anger swept over the girl violent and murderous She would have liked
them all annihilated cleared away so that the world was left clear for her
How she hated walking up the churchyard path along the red carpet continuing
in motion in their sight
»I wont go into the church« she said suddenly with such final decision
that Ursula immediately halted turned round and branched off up a small side
path which led to the little private gate of the Grammar School whose grounds
adjoined those of the church
Just inside the gate of the school shrubbery outside the churchyard Ursula
sat down for a moment on the low stone wall under the laurel bushes to rest
Behind her the large red building of the school rose up peacefully the windows
all open for the holiday Over the shrubs before her were the pale roofs and
tower of the old church The sisters were hidden by the foliage
Gudrun sat down in silence Her mouth was shut close her face averted She
was regretting bitterly that she had ever come back Ursula looked at her and
thought how amazingly beautiful she was flushed with discomfiture But she
caused a constraint over Ursulas nature a certain weariness Ursula wished to
be alone freed from the tightness the enclosure of Gudruns presence
»Are we going to stay here« asked Gudrun
»I was only resting a minute« said Ursula getting up as if rebuked »We
will stand in the corner by the fivescourt we shall see everything from
there«
For the moment the sunshine fell brightly into the churchyard there was a
vague scent of sap and of spring perhaps of violets from off the graves Some
white daisies were out bright as angels In the air the unfolding leaves of a
copperbeech were bloodred
Punctually at eleven oclock the carriages began to arrive There was a
stir in the crowd at the gate a concentration as a carriage drove up wedding
guests were mounting up the steps and passing along the red carpet to the
church They were all gay and excited because the sun was shining
Gudrun watched them closely with objective curiosity She saw each one as a
complete figure like a character in a book or a subject in a picture or a
marionette in a theatre a finished creation She loved to recognise their
various characteristics to place them in their true light give them their own
surroundings settle them for ever as they passed before her along the path to
the church She knew them they were finished sealed and stamped and finished
with for her There was none that had anything unknown unresolved until the
Criches themselves began to appear Then her interest was piqued Here was
something not quite so preconcluded
There came the mother Mrs Crich with her eldest son Gerald She was a
queer unkempt figure in spite of the attempts that had obviously been made to
bring her into line for the day Her face was pale yellowish with a clear
transparent skin she leaned forward rather her features were strongly marked
handsome with a tense unseeing predative look Her colourless hair was
untidy wisps floating down on to her sac coat of dark blue silk from under her
blue silk hat She looked like a woman with a monomania furtive almost but
heavily proud
Her son was of a fair suntanned type rather above middle height
wellmade and almost exaggeratedly welldressed But about him also was the
strange guarded look the unconscious glisten as if he did not belong to the
same creation as the people about him Gudrun lighted on him at once There was
something northern about him that magnetised her In his clear northern flesh
and his fair hair was a glisten like sunshine refracted through crystals of ice
And he looked so new unbroached pure as an arctic thing Perhaps he was thirty
years old perhaps more His gleaming beauty maleness like a young
goodhumoured smiling wolf did not blind her to the significant sinister
stillness in his bearing the lurking danger of his unsubdued temper »His totem
is the wolf« she repeated to herself »His mother is an old unbroken wolf«
And then she experienced a keen paroxysm a transport as if she had made some
incredible discovery known to nobody else on earth A strange transport took
possession of her all her veins were in a paroxysm of violent sensation »Good
God« she exclaimed to herself »what is this« And then a moment after she
was saying assuredly »I shall know more of that man« She was tortured with
desire to see him again a nostalgia a necessity to see him again to make sure
it was not all a mistake that she was not deluding herself that she really
felt this strange and overwhelming sensation on his account this knowledge of
him in her essence this powerful apprehension of him »Am I really singled out
for him in some way is there really some pale gold arctic light that envelopes
only us two« she asked herself And she could not believe it she remained in a
muse scarcely conscious of what was going on around
The bridesmaids were here and yet the bridegroom had not come Ursula
wondered if something was amiss and if the wedding would yet all go wrong She
felt troubled as if it rested upon her The chief bridesmaids had arrived
Ursula watched them come up the steps One of them she knew a tall slow
reluctant woman with a weight of fair hair and a pale long face This was
Hermione Roddice a friend of the Criches Now she came along with her head
held up balancing an enormous flat hat of pale yellow velvet on which were
streaks of ostrich feathers natural and grey She drifted forward as if
scarcely conscious her long blanched face lifted up not to see the world She
was rich She wore a dress of silky frail velvet of pale yellow colour and
she carried a lot of small rosecoloured cyclamens Her shoes and stockings were
of brownish grey like the feathers on her hat her hair was heavy she drifted
along with a peculiar fixity of the hips a strange unwilling motion She was
impressive in her lovely paleyellow and brownishrose yet macabre something
repulsive People were silent when she passed impressed roused wanting to
jeer yet for some reason silenced Her long pale face that she carried lifted
up somewhat in the Rossetti fashion seemed almost drugged as if a strange
mass of thoughts coiled in the darkness within her and she was never allowed to
escape
Ursula watched her with fascination She knew her a little She was the most
remarkable woman in the Midlands Her father was a Derbyshire Baronet of the old
school she was a woman of the new school full of intellectuality and heavy
nerveworn with consciousness She was passionately interested in reform her
soul was given up to the public cause But she was a mans woman it was the
manly world that held her
She had various intimacies of mind and soul with various men of capacity
Ursula knew among these men only Rupert Birkin who was one of the
schoolinspectors of the county But Gudrun had met others in London Moving
with her artist friends in different kinds of society Gudrun had already come
to know a good many people of repute and standing She had met Hermione twice
but they did not take to each other It would be queer to meet again down here
in the Midlands where their social standing was so diverse after they had
known each other on terms of equality in the houses of sundry acquaintances in
town For Gudrun had been a social success and had her friends among the slack
aristocracy that keeps touch with the arts
Hermione knew herself to be welldressed she knew herself to be the social
equal if not far the superior of anyone she was likely to meet in Willey
Green She knew she was accepted in the world of culture and of intellect She
was a Kulturträger a medium for the culture of ideas. With all that was
highest whether in society or in thought or in public action or even in art
she was at one she moved among the foremost at home with them No one could
put her down no one could make mock of her because she stood among the first
and those that were against her were below her either in rank or in wealth or
in high association of thought and progress and understanding So she was
invulnerable All her life she had sought to make herself invulnerable
unassailable beyond reach of the worlds judgment
And yet her soul was tortured exposed Even walking up the path to the
church confident as she was that in every respect she stood beyond all vulgar
judgment knowing perfectly that her appearance was complete and perfect
according to the first standards yet she suffered a torture under her
confidence and her pride feeling herself exposed to wounds and to mockery and
to despite She always felt vulnerable vulnerable there was always a secret
chink in her armour She did not know herself what it was It was a lack of
robust self she had no natural sufficiency there was a terrible void a lack
a deficiency of being within her
And she wanted someone to close up this deficiency to close it up for ever
She craved for Rupert Birkin When he was there she felt complete she was
sufficient whole For the rest of time she was established on the sand built
over a chasm and in spite of all her vanity and securities any common
maidservant of positive robust temper could fling her down this bottomless pit
of insufficiency by the slightest movement of jeering or contempt And all the
while the pensive tortured woman piled up her own defences of æsthetic
knowledge and culture and worldvisions and disinterestedness Yet she could
never stop up the terrible gap of insufficiency
If only Birkin would form a close and abiding connection with her she would
be safe during this fretful voyage of life He could make her sound and
triumphant triumphant over the very angels of heaven If only he would do it
But she was tortured with fear with misgiving She made herself beautiful she
strove so hard to come to that degree of beauty and advantage when he should be
convinced But always there was a deficiency
He was perverse too He fought her off he always fought her off The more
she strove to bring him to her the more he battled her back And they had been
lovers now for years Oh it was so wearying so aching she was so tired But
still she believed in herself She knew he was trying to leave her She knew he
was trying to break away from her finally to be free But still she believed in
her strength to keep him she believed in her own higher knowledge His own
knowledge was high she was the central touchstone of truth She only needed his
conjunction with her
And this this conjunction with her which was his highest fulfilment also
with the perverseness of a wilful child he wanted to deny With the wilfulness
of an obstinate child he wanted to break the holy connection that was between
them
He would be at this wedding he was to be grooms man He would be in the
church waiting He would know when she came She shuddered with nervous
apprehension and desire as she went through the churchdoor He would be there
surely he would see how beautiful her dress was surely he would see how she had
made herself beautiful for him He would understand he would be able to see how
she was made for him the first how she was for him the highest Surely at
last he would be able to accept his highest fate he would not deny her
In a little convulsion of tootired yearning she entered the church and
looked slowly along her cheeks for him her slender body convulsed with
agitation As best man he would be standing beside the altar She looked
slowly deferring in her certainty
And then he was not there A terrible storm came over her as if she were
drowning She was possessed by a devastating hopelessness And she approached
mechanically to the altar Never had she known such a pang of utter and final
hopelessness It was beyond death so utterly null desert
The bridegroom and the grooms man had not yet come There was a growing
consternation outside Ursula felt almost responsible She could not bear it
that the bride should arrive and no groom The wedding must not be a fiasco it
must not
But here was the brides carriage adorned with ribbons and cockades Gaily
the grey horses curvetted to their destination at the churchgate a laughter in
the whole movement Here was the quick of all laughter and pleasure The door of
the carriage was thrown open to let out the very blossom of the day The people
on the roadway murmured faintly with the discontented murmuring of a crowd
The father stepped out first into the air of the morning like a shadow He
was a tall thin careworn man with a thin black beard that was touched with
grey He waited at the door of the carriage patiently selfobliterated
In the opening of the doorway was a shower of fine foliage and flowers a
whiteness of satin and lace and a sound of a gay voice saying
»How do I get out«
A ripple of satisfaction ran through the expectant people They pressed near
to receive her looking with zest at the stooping blonde head with its flower
buds and at the delicate white tentative foot that was reaching down to the
step of the carriage There was a sudden foaming rush and the bride like a
sudden surfrush floating all white beside her father in the morning shadow of
trees her veil flowing with laughter
»Thats done it« she said
She put her hand on the arm of her careworn sallow father and frothing her
light draperies proceeded over the eternal red carpet Her father mute and
yellowish his black beard making him look more careworn mounted the steps
stiffly as if his spirit were absent but the laughing mist of the bride went
along with him undiminished
And no bridegroom had arrived It was intolerable for her Ursula her heart
strained with anxiety was watching the hill beyond the white descending road
that should give sight of him There was a carriage It was running It had just
come into sight Yes it was he Ursula turned towards the bride and the people
and from her place of vantage gave an inarticulate cry She wanted to warn
them that he was coming But her cry was inarticulate and inaudible and she
flushed deeply between her desire and her wincing confusion
The carriage rattled down the hill and drew near There was a shout from
the people The bride who had just reached the top of the steps turned round
gaily to see what was the commotion She saw a confusion among the people a cab
pulling up and her lover dropping out of the carriage and dodging among the
horses and into the crowd
»Tibs Tibs« she cried in her sudden mocking excitement standing high on
the path in the sunlight and waving her bouquet He dodging with his hat in his
hand had not heard
»Tibs« she cried again looking down to him
He glanced up unaware and saw the bride and her father standing on the
path above him A queer startled look went over his face He hesitated for a
moment Then he gathered himself together for a leap to overtake her
»Ahhh« came her strange intaken cry as on the reflex she started
turned and fled scudding with an unthinkable swift beating of her white feet
and fraying of her white garments towards the church Like a hound the young
man was after her leaping the steps and swinging past her father his supple
haunches working like those of a hound that bears down on the quarry
»Ay after her« cried the vulgar women below carried suddenly into the
sport
She her flowers shaken from her like froth was steadying herself to turn
the angle of the church She glanced behind and with a wild cry of laughter and
challenge veered poised and was gone beyond the grey stone buttress In
another instant the bridegroom bent forward as he ran had caught the angle of
the silent stone with his hand and had swung himself out of sight his supple
strong loins vanishing in pursuit
Instantly cries and exclamations of excitement burst from the crowd at the
gate And then Ursula noticed again the dark rather stooping figure of Mr
Crich waiting suspended on the path watching with expressionless face the
flight to the church It was over and he turned round to look behind him at
the figure of Rupert Birkin who at once came forward and joined him
»Well bring up the rear« said Birkin a faint smile on his face
»Ay« replied the father laconically And the two men turned together up the
path
Birkin was as thin as Mr Crich pale and illlooking His figure was narrow
but nicely made He went with a slight trail of one foot which came only from
selfconsciousness Although he was dressed correctly for his part yet there
was an innate incongruity which caused a slight ridiculousness in his
appearance His nature was clever and separate he did not fit at all in the
conventional occasion Yet he subordinated himself to the common idea
travestied himself
He affected to be quite ordinary perfectly and marvellously commonplace
And he did it so well taking the tone of his surroundings adjusting himself
quickly to his interlocutor and his circumstance that he achieved a
verisimilitude of ordinary commonplaceness that usually propitiated his
onlookers for the moment disarmed them from attacking his singleness
Now he spoke quite easily and pleasantly to Mr Crich as they walked along
the path he played with situations like a man on a tightrope but always on a
tightrope pretending nothing but ease
»Im sorry we are so late« he was saying »We couldnt find a buttonhook
so it took us a long time to button our boots But you were to the moment«
»We are usually to time« said Mr Crich
»And Im always late« said Birkin »But today I was really punctual only
accidentally not so Im sorry«
The two men were gone there was nothing more to see for the time Ursula
was left thinking about Birkin He piqued her attracted her and annoyed her
She wanted to know him more She had spoken with him once or twice but only
in his official capacity as inspector She thought he seemed to acknowledge some
kinship between her and him a natural tacit understanding a using of the same
language But there had been no time for the understanding to develop And
something kept her from him as well as attracted her to him There was a
certain hostility a hidden ultimate reserve in him cold and inaccessible
Yet she wanted to know him
»What do you think of Rupert Birkin« she asked a little reluctantly of
Gudrun She did not want to discuss him
»What do I think of Rupert Birkin« repeated Gudrun »I think hes
attractive decidedly attractive What I cant stand about him is his way with
other people his way of treating any little fool as if she were his greatest
consideration One feels so awfully sold oneself«
»Why does he do it« said Ursula
»Because he has no real critical faculty of people at all events« said
Gudrun »I tell you he treats any little fool as he treats me or you and its
such an insult«
»Oh it is« said Ursula »One must discriminate«
»One must discriminate« repeated Gudrun »But hes a wonderful chap in
other respects a marvellous personality But you cant trust him«
»Yes« said Ursula vaguely She was always forced to assent to Gudruns
pronouncements even when she was not in accord altogether
The sisters sat silent waiting for the wedding party to come out Gudrun
was impatient of talk She wanted to think about Gerald Crich She wanted to see
if the strong feeling she had got from him was real She wanted to have herself
ready
Inside the church the wedding was going on Hermione Roddice was thinking
only of Birkin He stood near her She seemed to gravitate physically towards
him She wanted to stand touching him She could hardly be sure he was near her
if she did not touch him Yet she stood subjected through the wedding service
She had suffered so bitterly when he did not come that still she was dazed
Still she was gnawed as by a neuralgia tormented by his potential absence from
her She had awaited him in a faint delirium of nervous torture As she stood
bearing herself pensively the rapt look on her face that seemed spiritual
like the angels but which came from torture gave her a certain poignancy that
tore his heart with pity He saw her bowed head her rapt face the face of an
almost demoniacal ecstatic Feeling him looking she lifted her face and sought
his eyes her own beautiful grey eyes flaring him a great signal But he avoided
her look she sank her head in torment and shame the gnawing at her heart going
on And he too was tortured with shame and ultimate dislike and with acute
pity for her because he did not want to meet her eyes he did not want to
receive her flare of recognition
The bride and bridegroom were married the party went into the vestry
Hermione crowded involuntarily up against Birkin to touch him And he endured
it
Outside Gudrun and Ursula listened for their fathers playing on the organ
He would enjoy playing a wedding march Now the married pair were coming The
bells were ringing making the air shake Ursula wondered if the trees and the
flowers could feel the vibration and what they thought of it this strange
motion in the air The bride was quite demure on the arm of the bridegroom who
stared up into the sky before him shutting and opening his eyes unconsciously
as if he were neither here nor there He looked rather comical blinking and
trying to be in the scene when emotionally he was violated by his exposure to a
crowd He looked a typical naval officer manly and up to his duty
Birkin came with Hermione She had a rapt triumphant look like the fallen
angels restored yet still subtly demoniacal now she held Birkin by the arm
And he was expressionless neutralised possessed by her as if it were his fate
without question
Gerald Crich came fair goodlooking healthy with a great reserve of
energy He was erect and complete there was a strange stealth glistening
through his amiable almost happy appearance Gudrun rose sharply and went away
She could not bear it She wanted to be alone to know this strange sharp
inoculation that had changed the whole temper of her blood
Chapter II
Shortlands
The Brangwens went home to Beldover the wedding party gathered at Shortlands
the Criches home It was a long low old house a sort of manor farm that
spread along the top of a slope just beyond the narrow little lake of Willey
Water Shortlands looked across a sloping meadow that might be a park because
of the large solitary trees that stood here and there across the water of the
narrow lake at the wooded hill that successfully hid the colliery valley
beyond but did not quite hide the rising smoke Nevertheless the scene was
rural and picturesque very peaceful and the house had a charm of its own.
It was crowded now with the family and the wedding guests The father who
was not well withdrew to rest Gerald was host He stood in the homely entrance
hall friendly and easy attending to the men He seemed to take pleasure in his
social functions he smiled and was abundant in hospitality
The women wandered about in a little confusion chased hither and thither by
the three married daughters of the house All the while there could be heard the
characteristic imperious voice of one Crich woman or another calling »Helen
come here a minute« »Marjory I want you here« »Oh I say Mrs Witham «
There was a great rustling of skirts swift glimpses of smartlydressed women a
child danced through the hall and back again a maidservant came and went
hurriedly
Meanwhile the men stood in calm little groups chatting smoking pretending
to pay no heed to the rustling animation of the womens world But they could
not really talk because of the glassy ravel of womens excited cold laughter
and running voices They waited uneasy suspended rather bored But Gerald
remained as if genial and happy unaware that he was waiting or unoccupied
knowing himself the very pivot of the occasion
Suddenly Mrs Crich came noiselessly into the room peering about with her
strong clear face She was still wearing her hat and her sac coat of blue
silk
»What is it mother« said Gerald
»Nothing nothing« she answered vaguely And she went straight towards
Birkin who was talking to a Crich brotherinlaw
»How do you do Mr Birkin« she said in her low voice that seemed to take
no count of her guests She held out her hand to him
»Oh Mrs Crich« replied Birkin in his readily voice »I couldnt come to
you before«
»I dont know half the people here« she said in her low voice Her
soninlaw moved uneasily away
»And you dont like strangers« laughed Birkin »I myself can never see why
one should take account of people just because they happen to be in the room
with one why should I know they are there«
»Why indeed why indeed« said Mrs Crich in her low tense voice »Except
that they are there I dont know people whom I find in the house The children
introduce them to me Mother this is Mr Soandso I am no further What has
Mr Soandso to do with his own name and what have I to do with either him
or his name«
She looked up at Birkin She startled him He was flattered too that she
came to talk to him for she took hardly any notice of anybody He looked down
at her tense clear face with its heavy features but he was afraid to look into
her heavyseeing blue eyes He noticed instead how her hair looped in slack
slovenly strands over her rather beautiful ears which were not quite clean
Neither was her neck perfectly clean Even in that he seemed to belong to her
rather than to the rest of the company though he thought to himself he was
always well washed at any rate at the neck and ears
He smiled faintly thinking these things Yet he was tense feeling that he
and the elderly estranged woman were conferring together like traitors like
enemies within the camp of the other people He resembled a deer that throws
one ear back upon the trail behind and one ear forward to know what is ahead
»People dont really matter« he said rather unwilling to continue
The mother looked up at him with sudden dark interrogation as if doubting
his sincerity
»How do you mean matter« she asked sharply
»Not many people are anything at all« he answered forced to go deeper than
he wanted to »They jingle and giggle It would be much better if they were just
wiped out Essentially they dont exist they arent there«
She watched him steadily while he spoke
»But we dont imagine them« she said sharply
»Theres nothing to imagine thats why they dont exist«
»Well« she said »I would hardly go as far as that There they are whether
they exist or no It doesnt rest with me to decide on their existence I only
know that I cant be expected to take count of them all You cant expect me to
know them just because they happen to be there As far as I go they might as
well not be there«
»Exactly« he replied
»Mightnt they« she asked again
»Just as well« he repeated And there was a little pause
»Except that they are there and thats a nuisance« she said »There are my
sonsinlaw« she went on in a sort of monologue »Now Lauras got married
theres another And I really dont know John from James yet They come up to me
and call me mother I know what they will say How are you mother I ought to
say I am not your mother in any sense But what is the use There they are I
have had children of my own I suppose I know them from another womans
children«
»One would suppose so« he said
She looked at him somewhat surprised forgetting perhaps that she was
talking to him And she lost her thread
She looked round the room vaguely Birkin could not guess what she was
looking for nor what she was thinking Evidently she noticed her sons
»Are my children all there« she asked him abruptly
He laughed startled afraid perhaps
»I scarcely know them except Gerald« he replied
»Gerald« she exclaimed »Hes the most wanting of them all Youd never
think it to look at him now would you«
»No« said Birkin
The mother looked across at her eldest son stared at him heavily for some
time
»Ay« she said in an incomprehensible monosyllable that sounded profoundly
cynical Birkin felt afraid as if he dared not realise And Mrs Crich moved
away forgetting him But she returned on her traces
»I should like him to have a friend« she said »He has never had a friend«
Birkin looked down into her eyes which were blue and watching heavily He
could not understand them »Am I my brothers keeper« he said to himself
almost flippantly
Then he remembered with a slight shock that that was Cains cry And
Gerald was Cain if anybody Not that he was Cain either although he had slain
his brother There was such a thing as pure accident and the consequences did
not attach to one even though one had killed ones brother in such wise Gerald
as a boy had accidentally killed his brother What then Why seek to draw a
brand and a curse across the life that had caused the accident A man can live
by accident and die by accident Or can he not Is every mans life subject to
pure accident is it only the race the genus, the species, that has a universal
reference Or is this not true is there no such thing as pure accident Has
everything that happens a universal significance Has it Birkin pondering as
he stood there had forgotten Mrs Crich as she had forgotten him
He did not believe that there was any such thing as accident It all hung
together in the deepest sense
Just as he had decided this one of the Crich daughters came up saying
»Wont you come and take your hat off mother dear We shall be sitting down
to eat in a minute and its a formal occasion darling isnt it« She drew her
arm through her mothers and they went away Birkin immediately went to talk to
the nearest man
The gong sounded for the luncheon The men looked up but no move was made
to the diningroom The women of the house seemed not to feel that the sound had
meaning for them Five minutes passed by The elderly manservant Crowther
appeared in the doorway exasperatedly He looked with appeal at Gerald The
latter took up a large curved conch shell that lay on a shelf and without
reference to anybody blew a shattering blast It was a strange rousing noise
that made the heart beat The summons was almost magical Everybody came
running as if at a signal And then the crowd in one impulse moved to the
diningroom
Gerald waited a moment for his sister to play hostess He knew his mother
would pay no attention to her duties But his sister merely crowded to her seat
Therefore the young man slightly too dictatorial directed the guests to their
places
There was a moments lull as everybody looked at the hors doeuvres that
were being handed round And out of this lull a girl of thirteen or fourteen
with her long hair down her back said in a calm selfpossessed voice
»Gerald you forget father when you make that unearthly noise«
»Do I« he answered And then to the company »Father is lying down he is
not quite well«
»How is he really« called one of the married daughters peeping round the
immense wedding cake that towered up in the middle of the table shedding its
artificial flowers
»He has no pain but he feels tired« replied Winifred the girl with the
hair down her back
The wine was filled and everybody was talking boisterously At the far end
of the table sat the mother with her looselylooped hair She had Birkin for a
neighbour Sometimes she glanced fiercely down the rows of faces bending
forwards and staring unceremoniously And she would say in a low voice to
Birkin
»Who is that young man«
»I dont know« Birkin answered discreetly
»Have I seen him before« she asked
»I dont think so I havent« he replied And she was satisfied Her eyes
closed wearily a peace came over her face she looked like a queen in repose
Then she started a little social smile came on her face for a moment she
looked the pleasant hostess For a moment she bent graciously as if everyone
were welcome and delightful And then immediately the shadow came back a
sullen eagle look was on her face she glanced from under her brows like a
sinister creature at bay hating them all
»Mother« called Diana a handsome girl a little older than Winifred »I may
have wine maynt I«
»Yes you may have wine« replied the mother automatically for she was
perfectly indifferent to the question
And Diana beckoned to the footman to fill her glass
»Gerald shouldnt forbid me« she said calmly to the company at large
»All right Di« said her brother amiably And she glanced challenge at him
as she drank from her glass
There was a strange freedom that almost amounted to anarchy in the house
It was rather a resistance to authority than liberty Gerald had some command
by mere force of personality not because of any granted position There was a
quality in his voice amiable but dominant that cowed the others who were all
younger than he
Hermione was having a discussion with the bridegroom about nationality
»No« she said »I think that the appeal to patriotism is a mistake It is
like one house of business rivalling another house of business«
»Well you can hardly say that can you« exclaimed Gerald who had a real
passion for discussion »You couldnt call a race a business concern could you
and nationality roughly corresponds to race I think I think it is meant to«
There was a moments pause Gerald and Hermione were always strangely but
politely and evenly inimical
»Do you think race corresponds with nationality« she asked musingly with
expressionless indecision
Birkin knew she was waiting for him to participate And dutifully he spoke
up
»I think Gerald is right race is the essential element in nationality in
Europe at least« he said
Again Hermione paused as if to allow this statement to cool Then she said
with strange assumption of authority
»Yes but even so is the patriotic appeal an appeal to the racial instinct
Is it not rather an appeal to the proprietary instinct the commercial instinct
And isnt this what we mean by nationality«
»Probably« said Birkin who felt that such a discussion was out of place
and out of time
But Gerald was now on the scent of argument
»A race may have its commercial aspect« he said »In fact it must It is
like a family You must make provision And to make provision you have got to
strive against other families other nations I dont see why you shouldnt«
Again Hermione made a pause domineering and cold before she replied »Yes
I think it is always wrong to provoke a spirit of rivalry It makes bad blood
And bad blood accumulates«
»But you cant do away with the spirit of emulation altogether« said
Gerald »It is one of the necessary incentives to production and improvement«
»Yes« came Hermiones sauntering response »I think you can do away with
it«
»I must say« said Birkin »I detest the spirit of emulation« Hermione was
biting a piece of bread pulling it from between her teeth with her fingers in
a slow slightly derisive movement She turned to Birkin
»You do hate it yes« she said intimate and gratified
»Detest it« he repeated
»Yes« she murmured assured and satisfied
»But« Gerald insisted »you dont allow one man to take away his
neighbours living so why should you allow one nation to take away the living
from another nation«
There was a long slow murmur from Hermione before she broke into speech
saying with a laconic indifference
»It is not always a question of possessions is it It is not all a question
of goods«
Gerald was nettled by this implication of vulgar materialism
»Yes more or less« he retorted »If I go and take a mans hat from off his
head that hat becomes a symbol of that mans liberty When he fights me for his
hat he is fighting me for his liberty«
Hermione was nonplussed
»Yes« she said irritated »But that way of arguing by imaginary instances
is not supposed to be genuine is it A man does not come and take my hat from
off my head does he«
»Only because the law prevents him« said Gerald
»Not only« said Birkin »Ninetynine men out of a hundred dont want my
hat«
»Thats a matter of opinion« said Gerald
»Or the hat« laughed the bridegroom
»And if he does want my hat such as it is« said Birkin »why surely it is
open to me to decide which is a greater loss to me my hat or my liberty as a
free and indifferent man If I am compelled to offer fight I lose the latter
It is a question which is worth more to me my pleasant liberty of conduct or
my hat«
»Yes« said Hermione watching Birkin strangely »Yes«
»But would you let somebody come and snatch your hat off your head« the
bride asked of Hermione
The face of the tall straight woman turned slowly and as if drugged to this
new speaker
»No« she replied in a low inhuman tone that seemed to contain a chuckle
»No I shouldnt let anybody take my hat off my head«
»How would you prevent it« asked Gerald
»I dont know« replied Hermione slowly »Probably I should kill him«
There was a strange chuckle in her tone a dangerous and convincing humour
in her bearing
»Of course« said Gerald »I can see Ruperts point It is a question to him
whether his hat or his peace of mind is more important«
»Peace of body« said Birkin
»Well as you like there« replied Gerald »But how are you going to decide
this for a nation«
»Heaven preserve me« laughed Birkin
»Yes but suppose you have to« Gerald persisted
»Then it is the same If the national crownpiece is an old hat then the
thieving gent may have it«
»But can the national or racial hat be an old hat« insisted Gerald
»Pretty well bound to be I believe« said Birkin
»Im not so sure« said Gerald
»I dont agree Rupert« said Hermione
»All right« said Birkin
»Im all for the old national hat« laughed Gerald
»And a fool you look in it« cried Diana his pert sister who was just in
her teens
»Oh were quite out of our depths with these old hats« cried Laura Crich
»Dry up now Gerald Were going to drink toasts Let us drink toasts Toasts
glasses glasses now then toasts Speech Speech«
Birkin thinking about race or national death watched his glass being
filled with champagne The bubbles broke at the rim the man withdrew and
feeling a sudden thirst at the sight of the fresh wine Birkin drank up his
glass A queer little tension in the room roused him He felt a sharp
constraint
»Did I do it by accident or on purpose« he asked himself And he decided
that according to the vulgar phrase he had done it accidentally on purpose He
looked round at the hired footman And the hired footman came with a silent
step of cold servantlike disapprobation Birkin decided that he detested
toasts and footmen and assemblies and mankind altogether in most of its
aspects Then he rose to make a speech But he was somehow disgusted
At length it was over the meal Several men strolled out into the garden
There was a lawn and flowerbeds and at the boundary an iron fence shutting
off the little field or park The view was pleasant a highroad curving round
the edge of a low lake under the trees In the spring air the water gleamed
and the opposite woods were purplish with new life Charming Jersey cattle came
to the fence breathing hoarsely from their velvet muzzles at the human beings
expecting perhaps a crust
Birkin leaned on the fence A cow was breathing wet hotness on his hand
»Pretty cattle very pretty« said Marshall one of the brothersinlaw
»They give the best milk you can have«
»Yes« said Birkin
»Eh my little beauty eh my beauty« said Marshall in a queer high
falsetto voice that caused the other man to have convulsions of laughter in his
stomach
»Who won the race Lupton« he called to the bridegroom to hide the fact
that he was laughing
The bridegroom took his cigar from his mouth
»The race« he exclaimed Then a rather thin smile came over his face He
did not want to say anything about the flight to the church door »We got there
together At least she touched first but I had my hand on her shoulder«
»Whats this« asked Gerald
Birkin told him about the race of the bride and the bridegroom
»Hm« said Gerald in disapproval »What made you late then«
»Lupton would talk about the immortality of the soul« said Birkin »and
then he hadnt got a buttonhook«
»Oh God« cried Marshall »The immortality of the soul on your wedding day
Hadnt you got anything better to occupy your mind«
»Whats wrong with it« asked the bridegroom a cleanshaven naval man
flushing sensitively
»Sounds as if you were going to be executed instead of married The
immortality of the soul« repeated the brotherinlaw with most killing
emphasis
But he fell quite flat
»And what did you decide« asked Gerald at once pricking up his ears at the
thought of a metaphysical discussion
»You dont want a soul today my boy« said Marshall »Itd be in your
road«
»Christ Marshall go and talk to somebody else« cried Gerald with sudden
impatience
»By God Im willing« said Marshall in a temper »Too much bloody soul and
talk altogether «
He withdrew in a dudgeon Gerald staring after him with angry eyes that
grew gradually calm and amiable as the stoutlybuilt form of the other man
passed into the distance
»Theres one thing Lupton« said Gerald turning suddenly to the
bridegroom »Laura wont have brought such a fool into the family as Lottie
did«
»Comfort yourself with that« laughed Birkin
»I take no notice of them« laughed the bridegroom
»What about this race then who began it« Gerald asked
»We were late Laura was at the top of the churchyard steps when our cab
came up She saw Lupton bolting towards her And she fled But why do you look
so cross Does it hurt your sense of the family dignity«
»It does rather« said Gerald »If youre doing a thing do it properly
and if youre not going to do it properly leave it alone«
»Very nice aphorism« said Birkin
»Dont you agree« asked Gerald
»Quite« said Birkin »Only it bores me rather when you become aphoristic«
»Damn you Rupert you want all the aphorisms your own way« said Gerald
»No I want them out of the way and youre always shoving them in it«
Gerald smiled grimly at this humorism Then he made a little gesture of
dismissal with his eyebrows
»You dont believe in having any standard of behaviour at all do you« he
challenged Birkin censoriously
»Standard no I hate standards But theyre necessary for the common ruck
Anybody who is anything can just be himself and do as he likes«
»But what do you mean by being himself« said Gerald »Is that an aphorism
or a cliché«
»I mean just doing what you want to do I think it was perfect good form in
Laura to bolt from Lupton to the church door It was almost a masterpiece in
good form Its the hardest thing in the world to act spontaneously on ones
impulses and its the only really gentlemanly thing to do provided youre
fit to do it«
»You dont expect me to take you seriously do you« asked Gerald
»Yes Gerald youre one of the very few people I do expect that of«
»Then Im afraid I cant come up to your expectations here at any rate You
think people should just do as they like«
»I think they always do But I should like them to like the purely
individual thing in themselves, which makes them act in singleness And they
only like to do the collective thing«
»And I« said Gerald grimly »shouldnt like to be in a world of people who
acted individually and spontaneously as you call it We should have everybody
cutting everybody elses throat in five minutes«
»That means you would like to be cutting everybodys throat« said Birkin
»How does that follow« asked Gerald crossly
»No man« said Birkin »cuts another mans throat unless he wants to cut it
and unless the other man wants it cutting This is a complete truth It takes
two people to make a murder a murderer and a murderee And a murderee is a man
who is murderable And a man who is murderable is a man who in a profound if
hidden lust desires to be murdered«
»Sometimes you talk pure nonsense« said Gerald to Birkin »As a matter of
fact, none of us wants our throat cut and most other people would like to cut
it for us some time or other «
»Its a nasty view of things Gerald« said Birkin »and no wonder you are
afraid of yourself and your own unhappiness«
»How am I afraid of myself« said Gerald »and I dont think I am unhappy«
»You seem to have a lurking desire to have your gizzard slit and imagine
every man has his knife up his sleeve for you« Birkin said
»How do you make that out« said Gerald
»From you« said Birkin
There was a pause of strange enmity between the two men that was very near
to love It was always the same between them always their talk brought them
into a deadly nearness of contact a strange perilous intimacy which was either
hate or love or both They parted with apparent unconcern as if their going
apart were a trivial occurrence And they really kept it to the level of trivial
occurrence Yet the heart of each burned from the other They burned with each
other inwardly This they would never admit They intended to keep their
relationship a casual freeandeasy friendship they were not going to be so
unmanly and unnatural as to allow any heartburning between them They had not
the faintest belief in deep relationship between men and men and their
disbelief prevented any development of their powerful but suppressed
friendliness
Chapter III
ClassRoom
A schoolday was drawing to a close In the class-room the last lesson was in
progress peaceful and still It was elementary botany The desks were littered
with catkins hazel and willow which the children had been sketching But the
sky had come over dark as the end of the afternoon approached there was
scarcely light to draw any more Ursula stood in front of the class, leading the
children by questions to understand the structure and the meaning of the
catkins
A heavy coppercoloured beam of light came in at the west window gilding
the outlines of the childrens heads with red gold and falling on the wall
opposite in a rich ruddy illumination Ursula however was scarcely conscious
of it She was busy the end of the day was here the work went on as a peaceful
tide that is at flood hushed to retire
This day had gone by like so many more in an activity that was like a
trance At the end there was a little haste to finish what was in hand She was
pressing the children with questions so that they should know all they were to
know by the time the gong went She stood in shadow in front of the class, with
catkins in her hand and she leaned towards the children absorbed in the
passion of instruction
She heard but did not notice the click of the door Suddenly she started
She saw in the shaft of ruddy coppercoloured light near her the face of a
man It was gleaming like fire watching her waiting for her to be aware It
startled her terribly She thought she was going to faint All her suppressed
subconscious fear sprang into being with anguish
»Did I startle you« said Birkin shaking hands with her »I thought you had
heard me come in«
»No« she faltered scarcely able to speak He laughed saying he was sorry
She wondered why it amused him
»It is so dark« he said »Shall we have the light«
And moving aside he switched on the strong electric lights The class-room
was distinct and hard a strange place after the soft dim magic that filled it
before he came Birkin turned curiously to look at Ursula Her eyes were round
and wondering bewildered her mouth quivered slightly She looked like one who
is suddenly wakened There was a living tender beauty like a tender light of
dawn shining from her face He looked at her with a new pleasure feeling gay in
his heart irresponsible
»You are doing catkins« he asked picking up a piece of hazel from a
scholars desk in front of him »Are they as far out as this I hadnt noticed
them this year«
He looked absorbedly at the tassel of hazel in his hand
»The red ones too« he said looking at the flickers of crimson that came
from the female bud
Then he went in among the desks to see the scholars books Ursula watched
his intent progress There was a stillness in his motion that hushed the
activities of her heart She seemed to be standing aside in arrested silence
watching him move in another concentrated world His presence was so quiet
almost like a vacancy in the corporate air
Suddenly he lifted his face to her and her heart quickened at the flicker
of his voice
»Give them some crayons wont you« he said »so that they can make the
gynaecious flowers red and the androgynous yellow Id chalk them in plain
chalk in nothing else merely the red and the yellow Outline scarcely matters
in this case There is just the one fact to emphasise«
»I havent any crayons« said Ursula
»There will be some somewhere red and yellow thats all you want«
Ursula sent out a boy on a quest
»It will make the books untidy« she said to Birkin flushing deeply
»Not very« he said »You must mark in these things obviously Its the fact
you want to emphasise not the subjective impression to record Whats the fact
red little spiky stigmas of the female flower dangling yellow male catkin
yellow pollen flying from one to the other Make a pictorial record of the fact
as a child does when drawing a face two eyes one nose mouth with teeth so
« And he drew a figure on the blackboard
At that moment another vision was seen through the glass panels of the door
It was Hermione Roddice Birkin went and opened to her
»I saw your car« she said to him »Do you mind my coming to find you I
wanted to see you when you were on duty«
She looked at him for a long time intimate and playful then she gave a
short little laugh And then only she turned to Ursula who with all the class,
had been watching the little scene between the lovers
»How do you do Miss Brangwen« sang Hermione in her low odd singing
fashion that sounded almost as if she were poking fun »Do you mind my coming
in«
Her grey almost sardonic eyes rested all the while on Ursula as if summing
her up
»Oh no« said Ursula
»Are you sure« repeated Hermione with complete sang froid and an odd
halfbullying effrontery
»Oh no I like it awfully« laughed Ursula »a little bit excited and
bewildered because Hermione seemed to be compelling her coming very close to
her as if intimate with her and yet how could she be intimate«
This was the answer Hermione wanted She turned satisfied to Birkin
»What are you doing« she sang in her casual inquisitive fashion
»Catkins« he replied
»Really« she said »And what do you learn about them« She spoke all the
while in a mocking half teasing fashion as if making game of the whole
business She picked up a twig of the catkin piqued by Birkins attention to
it
She was a strange figure in the class-room wearing a large old cloak of
greenish cloth on which was a raised pattern of dull gold The high collar and
the inside of the cloak was lined with dark fur Beneath she had a dress of
fine lavendercoloured cloth trimmed with fur and her hat was closefitting
made of fur and of the dull greenandgold figured stuff She was tall and
strange she looked as if she had come out of some new bizarre picture
»Do you know the little red ovary flowers that produce the nuts Have you
ever noticed them« he asked her And he came close and pointed them out to her
on the sprig she held
»No« she replied »What are they«
»Those are the little seedproducing flowers and the long catkins they
only produce pollen to fertilise them«
»Do they do they« repeated Hermione looking closely
»From those little red bits the nuts come if they receive pollen from the
long danglers«
»Little red flames little red flames« murmured Hermione to herself And
she remained for some moments looking only at the small buds out of which the
red flickers of the stigma issued
»Arent they beautiful I think theyre so beautiful« she said moving
close to Birkin and pointing to the red filaments with her long white finger
»Had you never noticed them before« he asked
»No never before« she replied
»And now you will always see them« he said
»Now I shall always see them« she repeated »Thank you so much for showing
me I think theyre so beautiful little red flames «
Her absorption was strange almost rhapsodic Both Birkin and Ursula were
suspended The little red pistillate flowers had some strange almost mystic
attraction for her
The lesson was finished the books were put away at last the class was
dismissed And still Hermione sat at the table with her chin in her hand her
elbow on the table her long white face pushed up not attending to anything
Birkin had gone to the window and was looking from the brilliantlylighted room
on to the grey colourless outside where rain was noiselessly falling Ursula
put away her things in the cupboard
At length Hermione rose and came near to her
»Your sister has come home« she said
»Yes« said Ursula
»And does she like being back in Beldover«
»No« said Ursula
»No I wonder she can bear it It takes all my strength to bear the
ugliness of this district when I stay here Wont you come and see me Wont
you come with your sister to stay at Breadalby for a few days do «
»Thank you very much« said Ursula
»Then I will write to you« said Hermione »You think your sister will come
I should be so glad I think she is wonderful I think some of her work is
really wonderful I have two waterwagtails carved in wood and painted
perhaps you have seen it«
»No« said Ursula
»I think it is perfectly wonderful like a flash of instinct «
»Her little carvings are strange« said Ursula
»Perfectly beautiful full of primitive passion «
»Isnt it queer that she always likes little things she must always work
small things that one can put between ones hands birds and tiny animals She
likes to look through the wrong end of the operaglasses and see the world that
way why is it do you think«
Hermione looked down at Ursula with that long detached scrutinising gaze
that excited the younger woman
»Yes« said Hermione at length »It is curious The little things seem to be
more subtle to her «
»But they arent are they A mouse isnt any more subtle than a lion is
it«
Again Hermione looked down at Ursula with that long scrutiny as if she were
following some train of thought of her own and barely attending to the others
speech
»I dont know« she replied
»Rupert Rupert« she sang mildly calling him to her He approached in
silence
»Are little things more subtle than big things« she asked with the odd
grunt of laughter in her voice as if she were making game of him in the
question
»Dunno« he said
»I hate subtleties« said Ursula
Hermione looked at her slowly
»Do you« she said
»I always think they are a sign of weakness« said Ursula up in arms as if
her prestige were threatened
Hermione took no notice Suddenly her face puckered her brow was knit with
thought she seemed twisted in troublesome effort for utterance
»Do you really think Rupert« she asked as if Ursula were not present »do
you really think it is worth while Do you really think the children are better
for being roused to consciousness«
A dark flash went over his face a silent fury He was hollowcheeked and
pale almost unearthly And the woman with her serious conscienceharrowing
question tortured him on the quick
»They are not roused to consciousness« he said »Consciousness comes to
them willynilly«
»But do you think they are better for having it quickened stimulated Isnt
it better that they should remain unconscious of the hazel isnt it better that
they should see as a whole without all this pulling to pieces all this
knowledge«
»Would you rather for yourself know or not know that the little red
flowers are there putting out for the pollen« he asked harshly His voice was
brutal scornful cruel
Hermione remained with her face lifted up abstracted He hung silent in
irritation
»I dont know« she replied balancing mildly »I dont know«
»But knowing is everything to you it is all your life« he broke out She
slowly looked at him
»Is it« she said
»To know that is your all that is your life you have only this this
knowledge« he cried »There is only one tree there is only one fruit in your
mouth«
Again she was some time silent
»Is there« she said at last with the same untouched calm And then in a
tone of whimsical inquisitiveness »What fruit Rupert«
»The eternal apple« he replied in exasperation hating his own metaphors
»Yes« she said There was a look of exhaustion about her For some moments
there was silence Then pulling herself together with a convulsed movement
Hermione resumed in a singsong casual voice
»But leaving me apart Rupert do you think the children are better richer
happier for all this knowledge do you really think they are Or is it better
to leave them untouched spontaneous Hadnt they better be animals simple
animals crude violent anything rather than this selfconsciousness this
incapacity to be spontaneous«
They thought she had finished But with a queer rumbling in her throat she
resumed »Hadnt they better be anything than grow up crippled crippled in
their souls crippled in their feelings so thrown back so turned back on
themselves incapable « Hermione clenched her fist like one in a trance »of
any spontaneous action always deliberate always burdened with choice never
carried away«
Again they thought she had finished But just as he was going to reply she
resumed her queer rhapsody »never carried away out of themselves always
conscious always selfconscious always aware of themselves Isnt anything
better than this Better be animals mere animals with no mind at all than
this this nothingness «
»But do you think it is knowledge that makes us unliving and
selfconscious« he asked irritably
She opened her eyes and looked at him slowly
»Yes« she said She paused watching him all the while her eyes vague
Then she wiped her fingers across her brow with a vague weariness It irritated
him bitterly »It is the mind,« she said »and that is death« She raised her
eyes slowly to him »Isnt the mind « she said with the convulsed movement of
her body »isnt it our death Doesnt it destroy all our spontaneity all our
instincts Are not the young people growing up today really dead before they
have a chance to live«
»Not because they have too much mind but too little« he said brutally
»Are you sure« she cried »It seems to me the reverse They are
overconscious burdened to death with consciousness«
»Imprisoned within a limited false set of concepts« he cried
But she took no notice of this only went on with her own rhapsodic
interrogation
»When we have knowledge dont we lose everything but knowledge« she asked
pathetically »If I know about the flower dont I lose the flower and have only
the knowledge Arent we exchanging the substance for the shadow arent we
forfeiting life for this dead quality of knowledge? And what does it mean to me
after all What does all this knowing mean to me It means nothing«
»You are merely making words« he said »knowledge means everything to you
Even your animalism you want it in your head You dont want to be an animal
you want to observe your own animal functions to get a mental thrill out of
them It is all purely secondary and more decadent than the most hidebound
intellectualism What is it but the worst and last form of intellectualism this
love of yours for passion and the animal instincts Passion and the instincts
you want them hard enough but through your head in your consciousness. It all
takes place in your head under that skull of yours Only you wont be conscious
of what actually is you want the lie that will match the rest of your
furniture«
Hermione set hard and poisonous against this attack Ursula stood covered
with wonder and shame It frightened her to see how they hated each other
»Its all that Lady of Shalott business« he said in his strong abstract
voice He seemed to be charging her before the unseeing air »Youve got that
mirror your own fixed will your immortal understanding your own tight
conscious world and there is nothing beyond it There in the mirror you must
have everything But now you have come to all your conclusions you want to go
back and be like a savage without knowledge You want a life of pure sensation
and passion«
He quoted the last word satirically against her She sat convulsed with fury
and violation speechless like a stricken pythoness of the Greek oracle
»But your passion is a lie« he went on violently »It isnt passion at all
it is your will Its your bullying will You want to clutch things and have
them in your power You want to have things in your power And why Because you
havent got any real body any dark sensual body of life You have no
sensuality You have only your will and your conceit of consciousness, and your
lust for power to know«
He looked at her in mingled hate and contempt also in pain because she
suffered and in shame because he knew he tortured her He had an impulse to
kneel and plead for forgiveness But a bitterer red anger burned up to fury in
him He became unconscious of her he was only a passionate voice speaking
»Spontaneous« he cried »You and spontaneity You the most deliberate
thing that ever walked or crawled Youd be verily deliberately spontaneous
thats you Because you want to have everything in your own volition your
deliberate voluntary consciousness You want it all in that loathsome little
skull of yours that ought to be cracked like a nut For youll be the same till
it is cracked like an insect in its skin If one cracked your skull perhaps one
might get a spontaneous passionate woman out of you with real sensuality As
it is what you want is pornography looking at yourself in mirrors watching
your naked animal actions in mirrors so that you can have it all in your
consciousness make it all mental«
There was a sense of violation in the air as if too much was said the
unforgivable Yet Ursula was concerned now only with solving her own problems
in the light of his words She was pale and abstracted
»But do you really want sensuality« she asked puzzled
Birkin looked at her and became intent in his explanation
»Yes« he said »that and nothing else at this point It is a fulfilment
the great dark knowledge you cant have in your head the dark involuntary
being It is death to ones self but it is the coming into being of another«
»But how How can you have knowledge not in your head« she asked quite
unable to interpret his phrases
»In the blood« he answered »when the mind and the known world is drowned
in darkness everything must go there must be the deluge Then you find
yourself in a palpable body of darkness a demon «
»But why should I be a demon « she asked
»Woman wailing for her demon lover « he quoted »why I dont know«
Hermione roused herself as from a death annihilation
»He is such a dreadful satanist isnt he« she drawled to Ursula in a
queer resonant voice that ended in a shrill little laugh of pure ridicule The
two women were jeering at him jeering him into nothingness The laugh of the
shrill triumphant female sounded from Hermione jeering him as if he were a
neuter
»No« he said »You are the real devil who wont let life exist«
She looked at him with a long slow look malevolent supercilious
»You know all about it dont you« she said with slow cold cunning
mockery
»Enough« he replied his face fixing fine and clear like steel A horrible
despair and at the same time a sense of release liberation came over
Hermione She turned with a pleasant intimacy to Ursula
»You are sure you will come to Breadalby« she said urging
»Yes I should like to very much« replied Ursula
Hermione looked down at her gratified reflecting and strangely absent as
if possessed as if not quite there
»Im so glad« she said pulling herself together »Some time in about a
fortnight Yes I will write to you here at the school shall I Yes And
youll be sure to come Yes I shall be so glad Goodbye Goodbye«
Hermione held out her hand and looked into the eyes of the other woman She
knew Ursula as an immediate rival and the knowledge strangely exhilarated her
Also she was taking leave It always gave her a sense of strength advantage to
be departing and leaving the other behind Moreover she was taking the man with
her if only in hate
Birkin stood aside fixed and unreal But now when it was his turn to bid
goodbye he began to speak again
»Theres the whole difference in the world« he said »between the actual
sensual being and the vicious mentaldeliberate profligacy our lot goes in for
In our nighttime theres always the electricity switched on we watch
ourselves we get it all in the head really Youve got to lapse out before you
can know what sensual reality is, lapse into unknowingness and give up your
volition Youve got to do it Youve got to learn notobe before you can come
into being«
»But we have got such a conceit of ourselves thats where it is We are so
conceited and so unproud Weve got no pride were all conceit so conceited
in our own papiermâché realised selves Wed rather die than give up our little
selfrighteous selfopinionated selfwill«
There was silence in the room Both women were hostile and resentful He
sounded as if he were addressing a meeting Hermione merely paid no attention
stood with her shoulders tight in a shrug of dislike
Ursula was watching him as if furtively not really aware of what she was
seeing There was a great physical attractiveness in him a curious hidden
richness that came through his thinness and his pallor like another voice
conveying another knowledge of him It was in the curves of his brows and his
chin rich fine exquisite curves the powerful beauty of life itself She
could not say what it was But there was a sense of richness and of liberty
»But we are sensual enough without making ourselves so arent we« she
asked turning to him with a certain golden laughter flickering under her
greenish eyes like a challenge And immediately the queer careless terribly
attractive smile came over his eyes and brows though his mouth did not relax
»No« he said »we arent Were too full of ourselves«
»Surely it isnt a matter of conceit« she cried
»That and nothing else«
She was frankly puzzled
»Dont you think that people are most conceited of all about their sensual
powers« she asked
»Thats why they arent sensual only sensuous which is another matter
Theyre always aware of themselves and theyre so conceited that rather than
release themselves and live in another world from another centre theyd «
»You want your tea dont you« said Hermione turning to Ursula with a
gracious kindliness »Youve worked all day «
Birkin stopped short A spasm of anger and chagrin went over Ursula His
face set And he bade goodbye as if he had ceased to notice her
They were gone Ursula stood looking at the door for some moments Then she
put out the lights And having done so she sat down again in her chair
absorbed and lost And then she began to cry bitterly bitterly weeping but
whether for misery or joy she never knew
Chapter IV
Diver
The week passed away On the Saturday it rained a soft drizzling rain that held
off at times In one of the intervals Gudrun and Ursula set out for a walk
going towards Willey Water The atmosphere was grey and translucent the birds
sang sharply on the young twigs the earth would be quickening and hastening in
growth The two girls walked swiftly gladly because of the soft subtle rush
of morning that filled the wet haze By the road the blackthorn was in blossom
white and wet its tiny amber grains burning faintly in the white smoke of
blossom Purple twigs were darkly luminous in the grey air high hedges glowed
like living shadows hovering nearer coming into creation The morning was full
of a new creation
When the sisters came to Willey Water the lake lay all grey and visionary
stretching into the moist translucent vista of trees and meadow Fine electric
activity in sound came from the dumbles below the road the birds piping one
against the other and water mysteriously plashing issuing from the lake
The two girls drifted swiftly along In front of them at the corner of the
lake near the road was a mossy boathouse under a walnut tree and a little
landingstage where a boat was moored wavering like a shadow on the still grey
water below the green decayed poles All was shadowy with coming summer
Suddenly from the boathouse a white figure ran out frightening in its
swift sharp transit across the old landingstage It launched in a white arc
through the air there was a bursting of the water and among the smooth ripples
a swimmer was making out to space in a centre of faintly heaving motion The
whole otherworld wet and remote he had to himself He could move into the pure
translucency of the grey uncreated water
Gudrun stood by the stone wall watching
»How I envy him« she said in low desirous tones
»Ugh« shivered Ursula »So cold«
»Yes but how good how really fine to swim out there« The sisters stood
watching the swimmer move further into the grey moist full space of the water
pulsing with his own small invading motion and arched over with mist and dim
woods
»Dont you wish it were you« asked Gudrun looking at Ursula
»I do« said Ursula »But Im not sure its so wet«
»No« said Gudrun reluctantly She stood watching the motion on the bosom
of the water as if fascinated He having swum a certain distance turned round
and was swimming on his back looking along the water at the two girls by the
wall In the faint wash of motion, they could see his ruddy face and could feel
him watching them
»It is Gerald Crich« said Ursula
»I know« replied Gudrun
And she stood motionless gazing over the water at the face which washed up
and down on the flood as he swam steadily From his separate element he saw
them and he exulted to himself because of his own advantage his possession of a
world to himself He was immune and perfect He loved his own vigorous
thrusting motion and the violent impulse of the very cold water against his
limbs buoying him up He could see the girls watching him a way off outside
and that pleased him He lifted his arm from the water in a sign to them
»He is waving« said Ursula
»Yes« replied Gudrun They watched him He waved again with a strange
movement of recognition across the difference
»Like a Nibelung« laughed Ursula Gudrun said nothing only stood still
looking over the water
Gerald suddenly turned and was swimming away swiftly with a side stroke
He was alone now alone and immune in the middle of the waters which he had all
to himself He exulted in his isolation in the new element unquestioned and
unconditioned He was happy thrusting with his legs and all his body without
bond or connection anywhere just himself in the watery world
Gudrun envied him almost painfully Even this momentary possession of pure
isolation and fluidity seemed to her so terribly desirable that she felt herself
as if damned out there on the highroad
»God what it is to be a man« she cried
»What« exclaimed Ursula in surprise
»The freedom the liberty the mobility« cried Gudrun strangely flushed
and brilliant »Youre a man you want to do a thing you do it You havent the
thousand obstacles a woman has in front of her«
Ursula wondered what was in Gudruns mind to occasion this outburst She
could not understand
»What do you want to do« she asked
»Nothing« cried Gudrun in swift refutation »But supposing I did
Supposing I want to swim up that water It is impossible it is one of the
impossibilities of life for me to take my clothes off now and jump in But
isnt it ridiculous doesnt it simply prevent our living«
She was so hot so flushed so furious that Ursula was puzzled
The two sisters went on up the road They were passing between the trees
just below Shortlands They looked up at the long low house dim and glamorous
in the wet morning its cedar trees slanting before the windows Gudrun seemed
to be studying it closely
»Dont you think its attractive Ursula« asked Gudrun
»Very« said Ursula »Very peaceful and charming«
»It has form too it has a period«
»What period«
»Oh eighteenth century for certain Dorothy Wordsworth and Jane Austen
dont you think«
Ursula laughed
»Dont you think so« repeated Gudrun
»Perhaps But I dont think the Criches fit the period I know Gerald is
putting in a private electric plant for lighting the house and is making all
kinds of latest improvements«
Gudrun shrugged her shoulders swiftly
»Of course« she said »thats quite inevitable«
»Quite« laughed Ursula »He is several generations of youngness at one go
They hate him for it He takes them all by the scruff of the neck and fairly
flings them along Hell have to die soon when hes made every possible
improvement and there will be nothing more to improve Hes got go anyhow«
»Certainly hes got go« said Gudrun »In fact Ive never seen a man that
showed signs of so much The unfortunate thing is where does his go go to what
becomes of it«
»Oh I know« said Ursula »It goes in applying the latest appliances«
»Exactly« said Gudrun
»You know he shot his brother« said Ursula
»Shot his brother« cried Gudrun frowning as if in disapprobation
»Didnt you know Oh yes I thought you knew He and his brother were
playing together with a gun He told his brother to look down the gun and it
was loaded and blew the top of his head off Isnt it a horrible story«
»How fearful« cried Gudrun »But it is long ago«
»Oh yes they were quite boys« said Ursula »I think it is one of the most
horrible stories I know«
»And he of course did not know that the gun was loaded«
»Yes You see it was an old thing that had been lying in the stable for
years Nobody dreamed it would ever go off and of course no one imagined it
was loaded But isnt it dreadful that it should happen«
»Frightful« cried Gudrun »And isnt it horrible too to think of such a
thing happening to one when one was a child and having to carry the
responsibility of it all through ones life Imagine it two boys playing
together then this comes upon them for no reason whatever out of the air
Ursula its very frightening Oh its one of the things I cant bear Murder
that is thinkable because theres a will behind it But a thing like that to
happen to one «
»Perhaps there was an unconscious will behind it« said Ursula »This
playing at killing has some primitive desire for killing in it dont you
think«
»Desire« said Gudrun coldly stiffening a little »I cant see that they
were even playing at killing I suppose one boy said to the other You look down
the barrel while I pull the trigger and see what happens It seems to me the
purest form of accident«
»No« said Ursula »I couldnt pull the trigger of the emptiest gun in the
world not if someone were looking down the barrel One instinctively doesnt do
it one cant«
Gudrun was silent for some moments in sharp disagreement
»Of course« she said coldly »If one is a woman and grown up ones
instinct prevents one But I cannot see how that applies to a couple of boys
playing together«
Her voice was cold and angry
»Yes« persisted Ursula At that moment they heard a womans voice a few
yards off say loudly
»Oh damn the thing« They went forward and saw Laura Crich and Hermione
Roddice in the field on the other side of the hedge and Laura Crich struggling
with the gate to get out Ursula at once hurried up and helped to lift the
gate
»Thanks so much« said Laura looking up flushed and amazonlike yet rather
confused »It isnt right on the hinges«
»No« said Ursula »And theyre so heavy«
»Surprising« cried Laura
»How do you do« sang Hermione from out of the field the moment she could
make her voice heard »Its nice now Are you going for a walk Yes Isnt the
young green beautiful So beautiful quite burning Good morning good morning
youll come and see me thank you so much next week yes goodbye
goodbye«
Gudrun and Ursula stood and watched her slowly waving her head up and down
and waving her hand slowly in dismissal smiling a strange affected smile
making a tall queer frightening figure with her heavy fair hair slipping to
her eyes Then they moved off as if they had been dismissed like inferiors The
four women parted
As soon as they had gone far enough Ursula said her cheeks burning
»I do think shes impudent«
»Who Hermione Roddice« asked Gudrun »Why«
»The way she treats one impudence«
»Why Ursula what did you notice that was so impudent« asked Gudrun rather
coldly
»Her whole manner Oh its impossible the way she tries to bully one Pure
bullying Shes an impudent woman Youll come and see me as if we should be
falling over ourselves for the privilege«
»I cant understand Ursula what you are so much put out about« said
Gudrun in some exasperation »One knows those women are impudent these free
women who have emancipated themselves from the aristocracy«
»But it is so unnecessary so vulgar« cried Ursula
»No I dont see it And if I did pour moi elle nexiste pas I dont
grant her the power to be impudent to me«
»Do you think she likes you« asked Ursula
»Well no I shouldnt think she did«
»Then why does she ask you to go to Breadalby and stay with her«
Gudrun lifted her shoulders in a low shrug
»After all shes got the sense to know were not just the ordinary run«
said Gudrun »Whatever she is shes not a fool And Id rather have somebody I
detested than the ordinary woman who keeps to her own set Hermione Roddice does
risk herself in some respects«
Ursula pondered this for a time
»I doubt it« she replied »Really she risks nothing I suppose we ought to
admire her for knowing she can invite us school teachers and risk nothing«
»Precisely« said Gudrun »Think of the myriads of women that darent do it
She makes the most of her privileges thats something I suppose really we
should do the same in her place«
»No« said Ursula »No It would bore me I couldnt spend my time playing
her games Its infra dig«
The two sisters were like a pair of scissors snipping off everything that
came athwart them or like a knife and a whetstone the one sharpened against
the other
»Of course« cried Ursula suddenly »she ought to thank her stars if we will
go and see her You are perfectly beautiful a thousand times more beautiful
than ever she is or was and to my thinking a thousand times more beautifully
dressed for she never looks fresh and natural like a flower always old
thoughtout and we are more intelligent than most people«
»Undoubtedly« said Gudrun
»And it ought to be admitted simply« said Ursula
»Certainly it ought« said Gudrun »But youll find that the really chic
thing is to be so absolutely ordinary so perfectly commonplace and like the
person in the street that you really are a masterpiece of humanity not the
person in the street actually but the artistic creation of her «
»How awful« cried Ursula
»Yes Ursula it is awful in most respects You darent be anything that
isnt amazingly à terre so much à terre that it is the artistic creation of
ordinariness«
»Its very dull to create oneself into nothing better« laughed Ursula
»Very dull« retorted Gudrun »Really Ursula it is dull thats just the
word One longs to be highflown and make speeches like Corneille after it«
Gudrun was becoming flushed and excited over her own cleverness
»Strut« said Ursula »One wants to strut to be a swan among geese«
»Exactly« cried Gudrun »a swan among geese«
»They are all so busy playing the ugly duckling« cried Ursula with mocking
laughter »And I dont feel a bit like a humble and pathetic ugly duckling I do
feel like a swan among geese I cant help it They make one feel so And I
dont care what they think of me Je men fiche«
Gudrun looked up at Ursula with a queer uncertain envy and dislike
»Of course the only thing to do is to despise them all just all« she
said
The sisters went home again to read and talk and work and wait for Monday
for school Ursula often wondered what else she waited for besides the
beginning and end of the school week and the beginning and end of the holidays
This was a whole life Sometimes she had periods of tight horror when it seemed
to her that her life would pass away and be gone without having been more than
this But she never really accepted it Her spirit was active her life like a
shoot that is growing steadily but which has not yet come above ground
Chapter V
In the Train
One day at this time Birkin was called to London He was not very fixed in his
abode He had rooms in Nottingham because his work lay chiefly in that town
But often he was in London or in Oxford He moved about a great deal his life
seemed uncertain without any definite rhythm any organic meaning
On the platform of the railway station he saw Gerald Crich reading a
newspaper and evidently waiting for the train Birkin stood some distance off
among the people It was against his instinct to approach anybody
From time to time in a manner characteristic of him Gerald lifted his head
and looked round Even though he was reading the newspaper closely he must keep
a watchful eye on his external surroundings There seemed to be a dual
consciousness running in him He was thinking vigorously of something he read in
the newspaper and at the same time his eye ran over the surfaces of the life
round him and he missed nothing Birkin who was watching him was irritated by
his duality He noticed too that Gerald seemed always to be at bay against
everybody in spite of his queer genial social manner when roused
Now Birkin started violently at seeing this genial look flash on to Geralds
face at seeing Gerald approaching with hand outstretched
»Hallo Rupert where are you going«
»London So are you I suppose«
»Yes «
Geralds eyes went over Birkins face in curiosity
»Well travel together if you like« he said
»Dont you usually go first« asked Birkin
»I cant stand the crowd« replied Gerald »But thirdll be all right
Theres a restaurant car we can have some tea«
The two men looked at the station clock having nothing further to say
»What were you reading in the paper« Birkin asked
Gerald looked at him quickly
»Isnt it funny what they do put in the newspapers« he said »Here are two
leaders « he held out his Daily Telegraph »full of the ordinary newspaper cant
« he scanned the columns down »and then theres this little I dunno what
youd call it essay almost appearing with the leaders and saying there must
arise a man who will give new values to things give us new truths a new
attitude to life or else we shall be a crumbling nothingness in a few years a
country in ruin «
»I suppose thats a bit of newspaper cant as well« said Birkin
»It sounds as if the man meant it and quite genuinely« said Gerald
»Give it to me« said Birkin holding out his hand for the paper
The train came and they went on board sitting on either side a little
table by the window in the restaurant car Birkin glanced over his paper then
looked up at Gerald who was waiting for him
»I believe the man means it« he said »as far as he means anything«
»And do you think its true Do you think we really want a new gospel«
asked Gerald
Birkin shrugged his shoulders
»I think the people who say they want a new religion are the last to accept
anything new They want novelty right enough But to stare straight at this life
that weve brought upon ourselves and rejected absolutely smash up the old
idols of ourselves that we shll never do Youve got very badly to want to get
rid of the old before anything new will appear even in the self.«
Gerald watched him closely
»You think we ought to break up this life just start and let fly« he
asked
»This life Yes I do Weve got to bust it completely or shrivel inside it
as in a tight skin For it wont expand any more«
There was a queer little smile in Geralds eyes a look of amusement calm
and curious
»And how do you propose to begin I suppose you mean reform the whole order
of society« he asked
Birkin had a slight tense frown between the brows He too was impatient of
the conversation
»I dont propose at all« he replied »When we really want to go for
something better we shall smash the old Until then any sort of proposal or
making proposals is no more than a tiresome game for selfimportant people«
The little smile began to die out of Geralds eyes and he said looking
with a cool stare at Birkin
»So you really think things are very bad«
»Completely bad«
The smile appeared again
»In what way«
»Every way« said Birkin »We are such dreary liars Our one idea is to lie
to ourselves We have an ideal of a perfect world clean and straight and
sufficient So we cover the earth with foulness life is a blotch of labour
like insects scurrying in filth so that your collier can have a pianoforte in
his parlour and you can have a butler and a motorcar in your up house and as
a nation we can sport the Ritz or the Empire Gaby Deslys and the Sunday
newspapers It is very dreary«
Gerald took a little time to readjust himself after this tirade
»Would you have us live without houses return to nature« he asked
»I would have nothing at all People only do what they want to do and what
they are capable of doing If they were capable of anything else there would be
something else«
Again Gerald pondered He was not going to take offence at Birkin
»Dont you think the colliers pianoforte as you call it is a symbol for
something very real a real desire for something higher in the colliers life«
»Higher« cried Birkin »Yes Amazing heights of upright grandeur It makes
him so much higher in his neighbouring colliers eyes He sees himself reflected
in the neighbouring opinion like in a Brocken mist several feet taller on the
strength of the pianoforte and he is satisfied He lives for the sake of that
Brocken spectre the reflection of himself in the human opinion You do the
same If you are of high importance to humanity you are of high importance to
yourself That is why you work so hard at the mines If you can produce coal to
cook five thousand dinners a day you are five thousand times more important
than if you cooked only your own dinner«
»I suppose I am« laughed Gerald
»Cant you see« said Birkin »that to help my neighbour to eat is no more
than eating myself I eat thou eatest he eats we eat you eat they eat and
what then Why should every man decline the whole verb First person singular is
enough for me«
»Youve got to start with material things« said Gerald Which statement
Birkin ignored
»And weve got to live for something were not just cattle that can graze
and have done with it« said Gerald
»Tell me« said Birkin »What do you live for«
Geralds face went baffled
»What do I live for« he repeated »I suppose I live to work to produce
something in so far as I am a purposive being Apart from that I live because
I am living«
»And whats your work Getting so many more thousands of tons of coal out of
the earth every day And when weve got all the coal we want and all the plush
furniture and pianofortes and the rabbits are all stewed and eaten and were
all warm and our bellies are filled and were listening to the young lady
performing on the pianoforte what then What then when youve made a real
fair start with your material things«
Gerald sat laughing at the words and the mocking humour of the other man
But he was cogitating too
»We havent got there yet« he replied »A good many people are still
waiting for the rabbit and the fire to cook it«
»So while you get the coal I must chase the rabbit« said Birkin mocking at
Gerald
»Something like that« said Gerald
Birkin watched him narrowly He saw the perfect goodhumoured callousness
even strange glistening malice in Gerald glistening through the plausible
ethics of productivity
»Gerald« he said »I rather hate you«
»I know you do« said Gerald »Why do you«
Birkin mused inscrutably for some minutes
»I should like to know if you are conscious of hating me« he said at last
»Do you ever consciously detest me hate me with mystic hate There are odd
moments when I hate you starrily«
Gerald was rather taken aback even a little disconcerted He did not quite
know what to say
»I may of course hate you sometimes« he said »But Im not aware of it
never acutely aware of it that is«
»So much the worse« said Birkin
Gerald watched him with curious eyes He could not quite make him out
»So much the worse is it« he repeated
There was a silence between the two men for some time as the train ran on
In Birkins face was a little irritable tension a sharp knitting of the brows
keen and difficult Gerald watched him warily carefully rather calculatingly
for he could not decide what he was after
Suddenly Birkins eyes looked straight and overpowering into those of the
other man
»What do you think is the aim and object of your life Gerald« he asked
Again Gerald was taken aback He could not think what his friend was getting
at Was he poking fun or not
»At this moment I couldnt say offhand« he replied with faintly ironic
humour
»Do you think to live is the beall and the endall of life« Birkin asked
with direct attentive seriousness
»Of my own life« said Gerald
»Yes«
There was a really puzzled pause
»I cant say« said Gerald »It hasnt been so far«
»What has your life been so far«
»Oh finding out things for myself and getting experiences and making
things go«
Birkin knitted his brows like sharply moulded steel
»I find« he said »that one needs some one really pure single activity I
should call love a single pure activity But I dont really love anybody not
now«
»Have you ever really loved anybody« asked Gerald
»Yes and no« replied Birkin
»Not finally« said Gerald
»Finally finally no« said Birkin
»Nor I« said Gerald
»And do you want to« said Birkin
Gerald looked with a long twinkling almost sardonic look into the eyes of
the other man
»I dont know« he said
»I do I want to love« said Birkin
»You do«
»Yes I want the finality of love«
»The finality of love« repeated Gerald And he waited for a moment
»Just one woman« he added The evening light flooding yellow along the
fields lit up Birkins face with a tense abstract steadfastness Gerald still
could not make it out
»Yes one woman« said Birkin
But to Gerald it sounded as if he were insistent rather than confident
»I dont believe a woman and nothing but a woman will ever make my life«
said Gerald
»Not the centre and core of it the love between you and a woman« asked
Birkin
Geralds eyes narrowed with a queer dangerous smile as he watched the other
man
»I never quite feel it that way« he said
»You dont Then wherein does life centre for you«
»I dont know thats what I want somebody to tell me As far as I can make
out it doesnt centre at all It is artificially held together by the social
mechanism«
Birkin pondered as if he would crack something
»I know« he said »it just doesnt centre The old ideals are dead as nails
nothing there It seems to me there remains only this perfect union with a
woman sort of ultimate marriage and there isnt anything else«
»And you mean if there isnt the woman theres nothing« said Gerald
»Pretty well that seeing theres no God«
»Then were hard put to it« said Gerald And he turned to look out of the
window at the flying golden landscape
Birkin could not help seeing how beautiful and soldierly his face was with
a certain courage to be indifferent
»You think its heavy odds against us« said Birkin
»If weve got to make our life up out of a woman one woman woman only
yes I do« said Gerald »I dont believe I shall ever make up my life at that
rate«
Birkin watched him almost angrily
»You are a born unbeliever« he said
»I only feel what I feel« said Gerald And he looked again at Birkin almost
sardonically with his blue manly sharplighted eyes Birkins eyes were at
the moment full of anger But swiftly they became troubled doubtful then full
of a warm rich affectionateness and laughter
»It troubles me very much Gerald« he said wrinkling his brows
»I can see it does« said Gerald uncovering his mouth in a manly quick
soldierly laugh
Gerald was held unconsciously by the other man He wanted to be near him he
wanted to be within his sphere of influence There was something very congenial
to him in Birkin But yet beyond this he did not take much notice He felt
that he himself Gerald had harder and more durable truths than any the other
man knew He felt himself older more knowing It was the quickchanging warmth
and vitality and brilliant warm utterance he loved in his friend It was the
rich play of words and quick interchange of feelings he enjoyed The real
content of the words he never really considered he himself knew better
Birkin knew this He knew that Gerald wanted to be fond of him without
taking him seriously And this made him go hard and cold As the train ran on
he sat looking at the land and Gerald fell away became as nothing to him
Birkin looked at the land at the evening and was thinking »Well if
mankind is destroyed if our race is destroyed like Sodom and there is this
beautiful evening with the luminous land and trees I am satisfied That which
informs it all is there and can never be lost After all what is mankind but
just one expression of the incomprehensible And if mankind passes away it will
only mean that this particular expression is completed and done That which is
expressed and that which is to be expressed cannot be diminished There it is
in the shining evening Let mankind pass away time it did The creative
utterances will not cease they will only be there Humanity doesnt embody the
utterance of the incomprehensible any more Humanity is a dead letter There
will be a new embodiment in a new way Let humanity disappear as quick as
possible«
Gerald interrupted him by asking
»Where are you staying in London«
Birkin looked up
»With a man in Soho I pay part of the rent of a house and stop there when
I like«
»Good idea have a place more or less your own« said Gerald
»Yes But I dont care for it much Im tired of the people I am bound to
find there«
»What kind of people«
»Art music London Bohemia the most pettifogging calculating Bohemia
that ever reckoned its pennies But there are a few decent people decent in
some respects They are really very thorough rejecters of the world perhaps
they live only in the gesture of rejection and negation but negatively
something at any rate«
»What are they painters musicians«
»Painters musicians writers hangerson models advanced young people
anybody who is openly at outs with the conventions and belongs to nowhere
particularly They are often young fellows down from the University and girls
who are living their own lives as they say«
»All loose« said Gerald
Birkin could see his curiosity roused
»In one way Most bound in another For all their shockingness all on one
note«
He looked at Gerald and saw how his blue eyes were lit up with a little
flame of curious desire He saw too how goodlooking he was Gerald was
attractive his blood seemed fluid and electric His blue eyes burned with a
keen yet cold light there was a certain beauty a beautiful passivity in all
his body his moulding
»We might see something of each other I am in London for two or three
days« said Gerald
»Yes« said Birkin »I dont want to go to the theatre or the musichall
youd better come round and see what you can make of Halliday and his crowd«
»Thanks I should like to« laughed Gerald »What are you doing tonight«
»I promised to meet Halliday at the Pompadour Its a bad place but there
is nowhere else«
»Where is it« asked Gerald
»Piccadilly Circus«
»Oh yes well shall I come round there«
»By all means it might amuse you«
The evening was falling They had passed Bedford Birkin watched the
country and was filled with a sort of hopelessness He always felt this on
approaching London His dislike of mankind of the mass of mankind amounted
almost to an illness
»Where the quiet coloured end of evening smiles
Miles and miles «
he was murmuring to himself like a man condemned to death Gerald who was very
subtly alert wary in all his senses leaned forward and asked smilingly
»What were you saying« Birkin glanced at him laughed and repeated
»Where the quiet coloured end of evening smiles
Miles and miles
Over pastures where the something something sheep
Half asleep «
Gerald also looked now at the country And Birkin who for some reason was now
tired and dispirited said to him
»I always feel doomed when the train is running into London I feel such a
despair so hopeless as if it were the end of the world«
»Really« said Gerald »And does the end of the world frighten you«
Birkin lifted his shoulders in a slow shrug
»I dont know« he said »It does while it hangs imminent and doesnt fall
But people give me a bad feeling very bad«
There was a roused glad smile in Geralds eyes
»Do they« he said And he watched the other man critically
In a few minutes the train was running through the disgrace of outspread
London Everybody in the carriage was on the alert waiting to escape At last
they were under the huge arch of the station in the tremendous shadow of the
town Birkin shut himself together he was in now
The two men went together in a taxicab
»Dont you feel like one of the damned« asked Birkin as they sat in a
little swiftlyrunning enclosure and watched the hideous great street
»No« laughed Gerald
»It is real death« said Birkin
Chapter VI
Creme de Menthe
They met again in the café several hours later Gerald went through the push
doors into the large lofty room where the faces and heads of the drinkers
showed dimly through the haze of smoke reflected more dimly and repeated ad
infinitum in the great mirrors on the walls so that one seemed to enter a
vague dim world of shadowy drinkers humming within an atmosphere of blue
tobacco smoke There was however the red plush of the seats to give substance
within the bubble of pleasure
Gerald moved in his slow observant glisteningattentive motion down
between the tables and the people whose shadowy faces looked up as he passed He
seemed to be entering in some strange element passing into an illuminated new
region among a host of licentious souls He was pleased and entertained He
looked over all the dim evanescent strangely illuminated faces that bent
across the tables Then he saw Birkin rise and signal to him
At Birkins table was a girl with bobbed blonde hair cut short in the
artist fashion hanging straight and curving slightly inwards to her ears She
was small and delicately made with fair colouring and large innocent blue
eyes There was a delicacy almost a floweriness in all her form and at the
same time a certain attractive grossness of spirit that made a little spark
leap instantly alight in Geralds eyes
Birkin who looked muted unreal his presence left out introduced her as
Miss Darrington She gave her hand with a sudden unwilling movement looking
all the while at Gerald with a dark exposed stare A glow came over him as he
sat down
The waiter appeared Gerald glanced at the glasses of the other two Birkin
was drinking something green Miss Darrington had a small liqueur glass that was
empty save for a tiny drop
»Wont you have some more «
»Brandy« she said sipping her last drop and putting down the glass The
waiter disappeared
»No« she said to Birkin »He doesnt know Im back Hell be terwified when
he sees me here«
She spoke her rs like ws lisping with a slightly babyish pronunciation
which was at once affected and true to her character Her voice was dull and
toneless
»Where is he then« asked Birkin
»Hes doing a private show at Lady Snellgroves« said the girl »Warens is
there too«
There was a pause
»Well then« said Birkin in a dispassionate protective manner »what do
you intend to do«
The girl paused sullenly She hated the question
»I dont intend to do anything« she replied »I shall look for some
sittings tomorrow«
»Who shall you go to« asked Birkin
»I shall go to Bentleys first But I believe hes angwy with me for running
away«
»That is from the Madonna«
»Yes And then if he doesnt want me I know I can get work with
Carmarthen«
»Carmarthen«
»Frederick Carmarthen he does photographs«
»Chiffon and shoulders «
»Yes But hes awfully decent« There was a pause
»And what are you going to do about Julius« he asked
»Nothing« she said »I shall just ignore him«
»Youve done with him altogether« But she turned aside her face sullenly
and did not answer the question
Another young man came hurrying up to the table
»Hallo Birkin Hallo Minette when did you come back« he said eagerly
»Today«
»Does Halliday know«
»I dont know I dont care either«
»Haha The wind still sits in that quarter does it Do you mind if I come
over to this table«
»Im talking to Wupert do you mind« she replied coolly and yet
appealingly like a child
»Open confession good for the soul eh« said the young man »Well so
long«
And giving a sharp look at Birkin and at Gerald the young man moved off
with a swing of his coat skirts
All this time Gerald had been completely ignored And yet he felt that the
girl was physically aware of his proximity He waited listened and tried to
piece together the conversation
»Are you staying at the house« the girl asked of Birkin
»For three days« replied Birkin »And you«
»I dont know yet I can always go to Berthas« There was a silence
Suddenly the girl turned to Gerald and said in a rather formal polite
voice with the distant manner of a woman who accepts her position as a social
inferior yet assumes intimate camaraderie with the male she addresses
»Do you know London well«
»I can hardly say« he laughed »Ive been up a good many times but I was
never in this place before«
»Youre not an artist then« she said in a tone that placed him an
outsider
»No« he replied
»Hes a soldier and an explorer and a Napoleon of industry« said Birkin
giving Gerald his credentials for Bohemia
»Are you a soldier« asked the girl with a cold yet lively curiosity
»No I resigned my commission« said Gerald »some years ago«
»He was in the last war« said Birkin
»Were you really« said the girl
»And then he explored the Amazon« said Birkin »and now he is ruling over
coalmines«
The girl looked at Gerald with steady calm curiosity He laughed hearing
himself described He felt proud too full of male strength His blue keen eyes
were lit up with laughter his ruddy face with its sharp fair hair was full of
satisfaction and glowing with life He piqued her
»How long are you staying« she asked him
»A day or two« he replied »But there is no particular hurry«
Still she stared into his face with that slow full gaze which was so
curious and so exciting to him He was acutely and delightfully conscious of
himself of his own attractiveness He felt full of strength able to give off a
sort of electric power And he was aware of her blue exposedlooking eyes upon
him She had beautiful eyes flowerlike fully opened naked in their looking
at him And on them there seemed to float a curious iridescence a sort of film
of disintegration and sullenness like oil on water She wore no hat in the
heated café her loose simple jumper was strung on a string round her neck But
it was made of rich yellow crêpedechine that hung heavily and softly from her
young throat and her slender wrists Her appearance was simple and complete
really beautiful because of her regularity and form her shiny yellow hair
falling curved and level on either side of her head her straight small
softened features provoking in the slight fullness of their curves her slender
neck and the simple richcoloured smock hanging on her slender shoulders She
was very still almost null in her manner apart and watchful
She appealed to Gerald strongly He felt an awful enjoyable power over her
an instinctive cherishing very near to cruelty For she was a victim He felt
that she was in his power and he was generous The electricity was turgid and
voluptuously rich in his limbs He would be able to destroy her utterly in the
strength of his discharge But she was waiting in her separation given
They talked banalities for some time Suddenly Birkin said
»Theres Julius« and he half rose to his feet motioning to the newcomer
The girl with a curious almost evil motion looked round over her shoulder
without moving her body Gerald watched her fair close hair swing over her
ears He felt her watching intensely the man who was approaching so he looked
too He saw a swarthy slender young man with rather long solid black hair
hanging from under his black hat moving cumbrously down the room his face lit
up with a smile at once naïve and warm and vapid He approached towards Birkin
with a haste of welcome
It was not till he was quite close that he perceived the girl He recoiled
went green and said in a high squealing voice
»Minette what are you doing here«
The café looked up like animals when they hear a cry Halliday hung
motionless an almost imbecile smile flickering palely on his face The girl
only stared at him with an icecold look in which flared an unfathomable hell of
knowledge, and a certain impotence She was limited by him
»Why have you come back« repeated Halliday in the same high hysterical
voice »I told you not to come back«
The girl did not answer only stared in the same iceblank heavy fashion
straight at him as he stood recoiled as if for safety against the next table
»You know you wanted her to come back come and sit down« said Birkin to
him
»No I didnt want her to come back and I told her not to come back What
have you come for Minette«
»For nothing from you« she said in a heavy voice of resentment
»Then why have you come back at all« cried Halliday his voice rising to a
kind of squeal
»She comes as she likes« said Birkin »Are you going to sit down or are
you not«
»No I wont sit down with Minette« cried Halliday
»I wont hurt you you neednt be afraid« she said to him very curtly and
yet with a sort of protectiveness towards him in her voice
Halliday came and sat at the table putting his hand on his heart and
crying
»Oh its given me such a turn Minette I wish you wouldnt do these
things Why did you come back«
»Not for anything from you« she repeated
»Youve said that before« he cried in a high voice
She turned completely away from him to Gerald Crich whose eyes were
shining with a subtle amusement
»Were you ever vewy much afwaid of the savages« she asked in her calm
dull childish voice
»No never very much afraid On the whole theyre harmless theyre not
born yet you cant feel really afraid of them You know you can manage them«
»Do you weally Arent they very fierce«
»Not very There arent many fierce things as a matter of fact. There
arent many things neither people nor animals that have it in them to be
really dangerous«
»Except in herds« interrupted Birkin
»Arent there really« she said »Oh I thought savages were all so
dangerous theyd have your life before you could look round«
»Did you« he laughed »They are overrated savages Theyre too much like
other people not exciting after the first acquaintance«
»Oh its not so very wonderfully brave then to be an explorer«
»No Its more a question of hardships than of terrors«
»Oh And werent you ever afraid«
»In my life I dont know Yes Im afraid of some things of being shut
up locked up anywhere or being fastened Im afraid of being bound hand and
foot«
She looked at him steadily with her naïve eyes that rested on him and
roused him so deeply that it left his upper self quite calm It was rather
delicious to feel her drawing his selfrevelations from him as from the very
innermost dark marrow of his body She wanted to know And her eyes seemed to be
looking through into his naked organism He felt she was compelled to him she
was fated to come into contact with him must have the seeing him and knowing
him And this roused a curious exultance Also he felt she must relinquish
herself into his hands and be subject to him She was so profane slavelike
watching him absorbed by him It was not that she was interested in what he
said she was absorbed by his selfrevelation by him she wanted the secret of
him the experience of his male being
Geralds face was lit up with an uncanny smile full of light and
rousedness yet unconscious He sat with his arms on the table his sunbrowned
rather sinister hands that were animal and yet very shapely and attractive
pushed forward towards her And they fascinated her And she knew she watched
her own fascination
Other men had come to the table to talk with Birkin and Halliday Gerald
said in a low voice apart to Minette
»Where have you come back from«
»From the country« replied Minette in a very low yet fully resonant
voice Her face closed hard Continually she glanced at Halliday and then a
flare came over her eyes The heavy fair young man ignored her completely he
was really afraid of her For some moments she would be unaware of Gerald He
had not conquered her yet
»And what has Halliday to do with it« he asked his voice still muted
She would not answer for some seconds Then she said unwillingly
»He made me go and live with him and now he wants to throw me over And yet
he wont let me go to anybody else He wants me to live hidden in the country
And then he says I persecute him that he cant get rid of me«
»Doesnt know his own mind« said Gerald
»He hasnt any mind so he cant know it« she said »He waits for what
somebody tells him to do He never does anything he wants to do himself
because he doesnt know what he wants Hes a perfect baby«
Gerald looked at Halliday for some moments watching the soft rather
degenerate face of the young man Its very softness was an attraction it was a
soft warm nature into which one might plunge with gratification
»But he has no hold over you has he« Gerald asked
»You see he made me go and live with him when I didnt want to« she
replied »He came and cried to me tears you never saw so many saying he
couldnt bear it unless I went back to him And he wouldnt go away he would
have stayed for ever He made me go back Then every time he behaves in this
fashion And now Im going to have a baby he wants to give me a hundred pounds
and send me into the country so that he would never see me nor hear of me
again But Im not going to do it after «
A queer look came over Geralds face
»Are you going to have a child« he asked incredulous It seemed to look at
her impossible she was so young and so far in spirit from any childbearing
She looked full into his face and her blue inchoate eyes had now a furtive
look and a look of a knowledge of evil dark and indomitable A flame ran
secretly to his heart
»Yes« she said »Isnt it beastly«
»Dont you want it« he asked
»I dont« she replied emphatically
»But « he said »how long have you known«
»Ten weeks« she said
All the time she kept her eyes full upon him He remained silent thinking
Then switching off and becoming cold he asked in a voice full of considerate
kindness
»Is there anything we can eat here Is there anything you would like«
»Yes« she said »I should adore some oysters«
»All right« he said »Well have oysters« And he beckoned to the waiter
Halliday took no notice until the little plate was set before her Then
suddenly he cried
»Minette you cant eat oysters when youre drinking brandy«
»What has it got to do with you« she asked
»Nothing nothing« he cried »But you cant eat oysters when youre
drinking brandy«
»Im not drinking brandy« she replied and she sprinkled the last drops of
her liqueur over his face He gave an odd squeal She sat looking at him as if
indifferent
»Minette why do you do that« he cried in panic He gave Gerald the
impression that he was terrified of her and that he loved his terror He seemed
to relish his own horror and hatred of her turn it over and extract every
flavour from it in real panic Gerald thought him a strange fool and yet
piquant
»But Minette« said another man in a very small quick Eton voice »you
promised not to hurt him«
»I havent hurt him« she answered
»What will you drink« the young man asked He was dark and smoothskinned
and full of a stealthy vigour
»I dont like porter Maxim« she replied
»You must ask for champagne« came the whispering gentlemanly voice of the
other
Gerald suddenly realised that this was a hint to him
»Shall we have champagne« he asked laughing
»Yes please dwy« she lisped childishly
Gerald watched her eating the oysters She was delicate and finicking in her
eating her fingers were fine and seemed very sensitive in the tips so she put
her food apart with fine small motions she ate carefully delicately It
pleased him very much to see her and it irritated Birkin They were all
drinking champagne Maxim the prim young Russian with the smooth warmcoloured
face and black oiled hair was the only one who seemed to be perfectly calm and
sober Birkin was white and abstract unnatural Gerald was smiling with a
constant bright amused cold light in his eyes leaning a little protectively
towards Minette who was very handsome and soft unfolded like some fair
iceflower in dreadful flowering nakedness vainglorious now flushed with wine
and with the excitement of men Halliday looked foolish One glass of wine was
enough to make him drunk and giggling Yet there was always a pleasant warm
naïveté about him that made him attractive
»Im not afwaid of anything except blackbeetles« said Minette looking up
suddenly and staring with her round eyes on which there seemed an unseeing film
of flame fully upon Gerald He laughed dangerously from the blood Her
childish speech caressed his nerves and her burning filmed eyes turned now
full upon him oblivious of all her antecedents gave him a sort of licence
»Im not« she protested »Im not afraid of other things But blackbeetles
ugh« she shuddered convulsively as if the very thought were too much to
bear
»Do you mean« said Gerald with the punctiliousness of a man who has been
drinking »that you are afraid of the sight of a blackbeetle or you are afraid
of a blackbeetle biting you or doing you some harm«
»Do they bite« cried the girl
»How perfectly loathsome« exclaimed Halliday
»I dont know« replied Gerald looking round the table »Do blackbeetles
bite But that isnt the point Are you afraid of their biting or is it a
metaphysical antipathy«
The girl was looking full upon him all the time with inchoate eyes
»Oh I think theyre beastly theyre horrid« she cried »If I see one it
gives me the creeps all over If one were to crawl on me Im sure I should die
Im sure I should«
»I hope not« whispered the young Russian
»Im sure I should Maxim« she asseverated
»Then one wont crawl on you« said Gerald smiling and knowing In some
strange way he understood her
»Its metaphysical as Gerald says« Birkin stated
There was a little pause of uneasiness
»And are you afraid of nothing else Minette« asked the young Russian in
his quick hushed elegant manner
»Not weally« she said »I am afwaid of some things but not weally the
same Im not afwaid of blood«
»Not afwaid of blood« exclaimed a young man with a thick pale jeering
face who had just come to the table and was drinking whisky
Minette turned on him a sulky look of dislike low and ugly
»Arent you really afraid of blud« the other persisted a sneer all over
his face
»No Im not« she retorted
»Why have you ever seen blood except in a dentists spittoon« jeered the
young man
»I wasnt speaking to you« she replied rather superbly
»You can answer me cant you« he said
For reply she suddenly jabbed a knife across his thick pale hand He
started up with a vulgar curse
»Shows what you are« said Minette in contempt
»Curse you« said the young man standing by the table and looking down at
her with acrid malevolence
»Stop that« said Gerald in quick instinctive command
The young man stood looking down at her with sardonic contempt a cowed
selfconscious look on his thick pale face The blood began to flow from his
hand
»Oh how horrible take it away« squealed Halliday turning green and
averting his face
»Dyou feel ill« asked the sardonic young man in some concern »Do you
feel ill Julius Garn its nothing man dont give her the pleasure of
letting her think shes performed a feat dont give her the satisfaction man
its just what she wants«
»Oh« squealed Halliday
»Hes going to cat Maxim« said Minette warningly The suave young Russian
rose and took Halliday by the arm leading him away Birkin white and
diminished looked on as if he were displeased The wounded sardonic young man
moved away ignoring his bleeding hand in the most conspicuous fashion
»Hes an awful coward really« said Minette to Gerald »Hes got such an
influence over Julius«
»Who is he« asked Gerald
»Hes a Jew really I cant bear him«
»Well hes quite unimportant But whats wrong with Halliday«
»Juliuss the most awful coward youve ever seen« she cried »He always
faints if I lift a knife hes tewwified of me«
»Hm« said Gerald
»Theyre all afwaid of me« she said »Only the Jew thinks hes going to
show his courage But hes the biggest coward of them all really because hes
afwaid what people will think about him and Julius doesnt care about that«
»Theyve a lot of valour between them« said Gerald goodhumouredly
Minette looked at him with a slow slow smile She was very handsome
flushed and confident in dreadful knowledge Two little points of light glinted
on Geralds eyes
»Why do they call you Minette Because youre like a cat« he asked her
»I expect so« she said
The smile grew more intense on his face
»You are rather or a young female panther«
»Oh God Gerald« said Birkin in some disgust
They both looked uneasily at Birkin
»Youre silent tonight Wupert« she said to him with a slight insolence
being safe with the other man
Halliday was coming back looking forlorn and sick
»Minette« he said »I wish you wouldnt do these things Oh« He sank in
his chair with a groan
»Youd better go home« she said to him
»I will go home« he said »But wont you all come along Wont you come
round to the flat« he said to Gerald »I should be so glad if you would Do
thatll be splendid I say« He looked round for a waiter »Get me a taxi« Then
he groaned again »Oh I do feel perfectly ghastly Minette you see what you
do to me«
»Then why are you such an idiot« she said with sullen calm
»But Im not an idiot Oh how awful Do come everybody it will be so
splendid Minette you are coming What Oh but you must come yes you must
What Oh my dear girl dont make a fuss now I feel perfectly Oh its so
ghastly Ho er Oh«
»You know you cant drink« she said to him coldly
»I tell you it isnt drink its your disgusting behaviour Minette its
nothing else Oh how awful Libidnikov do let us go«
»Hes only drunk one glass only one glass« came the rapid hushed voice
of the young Russian
They all moved off to the door The girl kept near to Gerald and seemed to
be at one in her motion with him He was aware of this and filled with
demonsatisfaction that his motion held good for two He held her in the hollow
of his will and she was soft secret invisible in her stirring there
They crowded five of them into the taxicab Halliday lurched in first and
dropped into his seat against the other window Then Minette took her place and
Gerald sat next to her They heard the young Russian giving orders to the
driver then they were all seated in the dark crowded close together Halliday
groaning and leaning out of the window They felt the swift muffled motion of
the car
Minette sat near to Gerald and she seemed to become soft subtly to infuse
herself into his bones as if she were passing into him in a black electric
flow Her being suffused into his veins like a magnetic darkness and
concentrated at the base of his spine like a fearful source of power Meanwhile
her voice sounded out reedy and nonchalant as she talked indifferently with
Birkin and with Maxim Between her and Gerald was this silence and this black
electric comprehension in the darkness Then she found his hand and grasped it
in her own firm small clasp It was so utterly dark and yet such a naked
statement that rapid vibrations ran through his blood and over his brain he
was no longer responsible Still her voice rang on like a bell tinged with a
tone of mockery And as she swung her head her fine mane of hair just swept his
face and all his nerves were on fire as with a subtle friction of electricity
But the great centre of his force held steady a magnificent pride to him at
the base of his spine
They arrived at a street of quiet houses went up a garden path and
presently a door was being opened for them by a darkskinned servant Gerald
looked in surprise wondering if he were a gentleman one of the Orientals down
from Oxford perhaps But no he was the manservant
»Make tea Hasan« said Halliday
»There is a room for me« said Birkin
To both of which questions the man grinned and murmured
He made Gerald uncertain because being tall and slender and reticent he
looked like a gentleman
»Who is your servant« he asked of Halliday »He looks a swell«
»Oh yes thats because hes dressed in another mans clothes Hes
anything but a swell really We found him in the road starving So I took him
here and another man gave him clothes Hes anything but what he seems to be
his only advantage is that he cant speak English and cant understand it so
hes perfectly safe«
»Hes very dirty« said the young Russian swiftly and silently
Directly the man appeared in the doorway
»What is it« said Halliday
The man grinned and murmured shyly
»Want to speak to master«
Gerald watched curiously The fellow in the doorway was goodlooking and
cleanlimbed his bearing was calm he looked elegant aristocratic Yet he was
half a savage grinning foolishly Halliday went out into the corridor to speak
with him
»What« they heard his voice »What What do you say Tell me again What
Want money Want more money But what do you want money for« There was the
confused sound of the Arabs talking then Halliday appeared in the room
smiling also foolishly and saying
»He says he wants money to buy underclothing Can anybody lend me a
shilling Oh thanks a shilling will do to buy all the underclothes he wants«
He took the money from Gerald and went out into the passage again where they
heard him saying »You cant want more money you had three and six yesterday
You mustnt ask for any more Bring the tea in quickly«
Gerald looked round the room It was an ordinary London sittingroom in a
house evidently taken furnished rather haphazard but pleasant But there were
several statues woodcarvings from the West Pacific strange and disturbing the
carved natives looked almost like the foetus of a human being One was a woman
sitting naked in a strange posture and looking tortured her abdomen stuck out
The young Russian explained that she was sitting in childbirth clutching the
ends of the band that hung from her neck one in each hand so that she could
bear down and help labour The strange transfixed rudimentary face of the
woman again reminded Gerald of a foetus it was also rather wonderful conveying
the suggestion of the extreme of physical sensation beyond the limits of mental
consciousness
»Arent they rather obscene« he asked disapproving
»I dont know« murmured the other rapidly »I have never defined the
obscene I think they are very good«
Gerald turned away There were one or two new pictures in the room in the
Futurist manner there was a large piano And these with some ordinary London
lodginghouse furniture of the better sort completed the whole
Minette had taken off her hat and coat and was seated on the sofa She was
evidently quite at home in the house but uncertain suspended She did not
quite know her position Her alliance for the time being was with Gerald and
she did not know how far this was admitted by any of the men She was
considering how she should carry off the situation She was determined to have
her experience Now at this eleventh hour she was not to be baulked Her face
was flushed as with battle her eye was brooding but inevitable
The man came in with tea and a bottle of Kümmel He set the tray on a little
table before the couch
»Minette« said Halliday »pour out the tea«
She did not move
»Wont you do it« Halliday repeated in a state of nervous apprehension
»Ive not come back here as it was before« she said »I only came because
the others wanted me to not for your sake«
»My dear Minette you know you are your own mistress I dont want you to do
anything but use the flat for your own convenience you know it Ive told you
so many times«
She did not reply but silently reservedly reached for the teapot They
all sat round and drank tea Gerald could feel the electric connection between
him and her so strongly as she sat there quiet and withheld that another set
of conditions altogether had come to pass Her silence and her immutability
perplexed him How was he going to come to her And yet he felt it quite
inevitable He trusted completely to the current that held them His perplexity
was only superficial new conditions reigned the old were surpassed here one
did as one was possessed to do no matter what it was
Birkin rose It was nearly one oclock
»Im going to bed« he said »Gerald Ill ring you up in the morning at
your place or you ring me up here«
»Right« said Gerald and Birkin went out
When he was well gone Halliday said in a stimulated voice to Gerald
»I say wont you stay here oh do«
»You cant put everybody up« said Gerald
»Oh but I can perfectly there are three more beds besides mine do stay
wont you Everything is quite ready there is always somebody here I always
put people up I love having the house crowded«
»But there are only two rooms« said Minette in a cold hostile voice »now
Ruperts here«
»I know there are only two rooms« said Halliday in his odd high way of
speaking »But what does that matter There is the studio «
He was smiling rather foolishly and he spoke eagerly with an insinuating
determination
»Julius and I will share one room« said the Russian in his discreet
precise voice Halliday and he were friends since Eton
»Its very simple« said Gerald rising and pressing back his arms
stretching himself Then he went again to look at one of the pictures Every one
of his limbs was turgid with electric force and his back was tense like a
tigers with slumbering fire He was very proud
Minette rose She gave a black look at Halliday fierce and deadly which
brought the rather foolish pleased smile to that young mans face Then she
went out of the room with a cold Goodnight to them all generally
There was a brief interval they heard a door close then Maxim said in his
refined voice
»Thats all right«
He looked significantly at Gerald and said again with a silent nod
»Thats all right youre all right«
Gerald looked at the smooth ruddy comely face and at the strange
significant eyes and it seemed as if the voice of the young Russian so small
and perfect sounded in the blood rather than in the air
»Im all right then« said Gerald
»Yes Yes Youre all right« said the Russian
Halliday continued to smile and to say nothing
Suddenly Minette appeared again in the door her small childish face
looking sullen and vindictive
»I know you want to catch me out« came her cold rather resonant voice
»But I dont care I dont care how much you catch me out«
She turned and was gone again She had been wearing a loose dressinggown of
purple silk tied round her waist She looked so small and childish and
vulnerable almost pitiful And yet the looks of her eyes made Gerald feel
drowned in some potent darkness that almost frightened him
The men lit another cigarette and talked casually
Chapter VII
Totem
In the morning Gerald woke late He had slept heavily Minette was still asleep
sleeping childishly and pathetically There was something small and curled up
and defenceless about her that roused an unsatisfied flame of passion in the
young mans blood a devouring avid pity He looked at her again But it would
be too cruel to wake her He subdued himself and went away
Hearing voices coming from the sittingroom Halliday talking to Libidnikov
he went to the door and glanced in He had on a silk wrap of a beautiful bluish
colour with an amethyst hem
To his surprise he saw the two young men by the fire stark naked Halliday
looked up rather pleased
»Goodmorning« he said »Oh did you want towels« And stark naked he went
out into the hall striding a strange white figure between the unliving
furniture He came back with the towels and took his former position crouching
seated before the fire on the fender
»Dont you love to feel the fire on your skin« he said
»It is rather pleasant« said Gerald
»How perfectly splendid it must be to be in a climate where one could do
without clothing altogether« said Halliday
»Yes« said Gerald »if there werent so many things that sting and bite«
»Thats a disadvantage« murmured Maxim
Gerald looked at him and with a slight revulsion saw the human animal
golden skinned and bare somehow humiliating Halliday was different He had a
rather heavy slack broken beauty dark and firm He was like a Christ in a
Pietà The animal was not there at all only the heavy broken beauty And
Gerald realised how Hallidays eyes were beautiful too so hazelyellow and warm
and confused broken also in their expression The fireglow fell on his heavy
rather bowed shoulders he sat slackly crouched on the fender his face was
uplifted weak perhaps slightly disintegrate and yet with a moving beauty of
its own.
»Of course« said Maxim »youve been in hot countries where the people go
about naked«
»Oh really« exclaimed Halliday »Where«
»South America Amazon« said Gerald
»Oh but how perfectly splendid Its one of the things I want most to do
to live from day to day without ever putting on any sort of clothing whatever
If I could do that I should feel I had lived«
»But why« said Gerald »I cant see that it makes so much difference«
»Oh I think it would be perfectly splendid Im sure life would be entirely
another thing entirely different and perfectly wonderful«
»But why« asked Gerald »Why should it«
»Oh one would feel things instead of merely looking at them I should feel
the air move against me and feel the things I touched instead of having only
to look at them Im sure life is all wrong because it has become much too
visual we can neither hear nor feel nor understand we can only see Im sure
that is entirely wrong«
»Yes that is true that is true« said the Russian
Gerald glanced at him and saw him his suave golden coloured body with the
black hair growing fine and freely like tendrils and his limbs like smooth
plantstems He was so healthy and wellmade why did he make one ashamed why
did one feel repelled Why should Gerald even dislike it why did it seem to him
to detract from his own dignity Was that all a human being amounted to So
uninspired thought Gerald
Birkin suddenly appeared in the doorway in white pyjamas and wet hair and
a towel over his arm He was aloof and white and somehow evanescent
»Theres the bathroom now if you want it« he said generally and was
going away again when Gerald called
»I say Rupert«
»What« The single white figure appeared again a presence in the room
»What do you think of that figure there I want to know« Gerald asked
Birkin white and strangely ghostly went over to the carved figure of the
savage woman in labour Her nude protuberant body crouched in a strange
clutching posture her hands gripping the ends of the band above her breast
»It is art« said Birkin
»Very beautiful its very beautiful« said the Russian
They all drew near to look Gerald looked at the group of men the Russian
golden and like a waterplant Halliday tall and heavily brokenly beautiful
Birkin very white and indefinite not to be assigned as he looked closely at
the carven woman Strangely elated Gerald also lifted his eyes to the face of
the wooden figure And his heart contracted
He saw vividly with his spirit the grey forwardstretching face of the
savage woman dark and tense abstracted in utter physical stress It was a
terrible face void peaked abstracted almost into meaninglessness by the
weight of sensation beneath He saw Minette in it As in a dream he knew her
»Why is it art« Gerald asked shocked resentful
»It conveys a complete truth« said Birkin »It contains the whole truth of
that state whatever you feel about it«
»But you cant call it high art« said Gerald
»High There are centuries and hundreds of centuries of development in a
straight line behind that carving it is an awful pitch of culture of a
definite sort«
»What culture« Gerald asked in opposition He hated the sheer barbaric
thing
»Pure culture in sensation culture in the physical consciousness really
ultimate physical consciousness mindless utterly sensual It is so sensual as
to be final supreme«
But Gerald resented it He wanted to keep certain illusions certain ideas
like clothing
»You like the wrong things Rupert« he said »things against yourself«
»Oh I know this isnt everything« Birkin replied moving away
When Gerald went back to his room from the bath he also carried his
clothes He was so conventional at home that when he was really away and on
the loose as now he enjoyed nothing so much as full outrageousness So he
strode with his blue silk wrap over his arm and felt defiant
Minette lay in her bed motionless her round blue eyes like stagnant
unhappy pools He could only see the dead bottomless pools of her eyes Perhaps
she suffered The sensation of her inchoate suffering roused the old sharp flame
in him a mordant pity a passion almost of cruelty
»You are awake now« he said to her
»What time is it« came her muted voice
She seemed to flow back almost like liquid from his approach to sink
helplessly away from him Her inchoate look of a violated slave whose
fulfilment lies in her further and further violation made his nerves quiver
with acutely desirable sensation After all his was the only will she was the
passive substance of his will He tingled with the subtle biting sensation And
then he knew he must go away from her there must be pure separation between
them
It was a quiet and ordinary breakfast the four men all looking very clean
and bathed Gerald and the Russian were both correct and comme il faut in
appearance and manner Birkin was gaunt and sick and looked a failure in his
attempt to be a properly dressed man like Gerald and Maxim Halliday wore
tweeds and a green flannel shirt and a rag of a tie which was just right for
him The Arab brought in a great deal of soft toast and looked exactly the same
as he had looked the night before statically the same
At the end of the breakfast Minette appeared in a purple silk wrap with a
shimmering sash She had recovered herself somewhat but was mute and lifeless
still It was a torment to her when anybody spoke to her Her face was like a
small fine mask sinister too masked with unwilling suffering It was almost
midday Gerald rose and went away to his business glad to get out But he had
not finished He was coming back again at evening they were all dining
together and he had booked seats for the party excepting Birkin at a
musichall
At night they came back to the house very late again again flushed with
drink Again the Arab who invariably disappeared between the hours of ten and
twelve at night came in silently and inscrutably with tea bending in a slow
strange leopardlike fashion to put the tray softly on the table His face was
immutable aristocraticlooking tinged slightly with grey under the skin he
was young and goodlooking But Birkin felt a slight sickness looking at him
and feeling the slight greyness as an ash or a corruption in the aristocratic
inscrutability of expression a nauseating bestial stupidity
Again they talked cordially and rousedly together But already a certain
friability was coming over the party Birkin was mad with irritation Halliday
was turning in an insane hatred against Gerald Minette was becoming hard and
cold like a flint knife and Halliday was laying himself out to her And her
intention ultimately was to capture Halliday to have complete power over him
In the morning they all stalked and lounged about again But Gerald could
feel a strange hostility to himself in the air It roused his obstinacy and he
stood up against it He hung on for two more days The result was a nasty and
insane scene with Halliday on the fourth evening Halliday turned with absurd
animosity upon Gerald in the café There was a row Gerald was on the point of
knockingin Hallidays face when he was filled with sudden disgust and
indifference and he went away leaving Halliday in a foolish state of gloating
triumph Minette hard and established and Maxim standing clear Birkin was
absent he had gone out of town again
Gerald was piqued because he had left without giving Minette money It was
true he did not know whether she wanted money or not But she might have been
glad of ten pounds and he would have been very glad to give them to her Now he
felt in a false position He went away chewing his lips to get at the ends of
his short clipped moustache He knew Minette was merely glad to be rid of him
She had got her Halliday whom she wanted She wanted him completely in her
power Then she would marry him She wanted to marry him She had set her will
on marrying Halliday She never wanted to hear of Gerald again unless perhaps
she were in difficulty because after all Gerald was what she called a man and
these others Halliday Libidnikov Birkin the whole Bohemian set they were
only half men But it was half men she could deal with She felt sure of herself
with them The real men like Gerald put her in her place too much
Still she respected Gerald she really respected him She had managed to
get his address so that she could appeal to him in time of distress She knew
he wanted to give her money She would perhaps write to him on that inevitable
rainy day
Chapter VIII
Breadalby
Breadalby was a Georgian house with Corinthian pillars standing among the
softer greener hills of Derbyshire not far from Cromford In front it looked
over a lawn over a few trees down to a string of fishponds in the hollow of
the silent park At the back were trees among which were to be found the
stables and the big kitchen garden behind which was a wood
It was a very quiet place some miles from the highroad back from the
Derwent Valley outside the show scenery Silent and forsaken the golden stucco
showed between the trees the housefront looked down the park unchanged and
unchanging
Of late however Hermione had lived a good deal at the house She had
turned away from London away from Oxford towards the silence of the country
Her father was mostly absent abroad she was either alone in the house with
her visitors of whom there were always several or she had with her her
brother a bachelor and a Liberal member of Parliament He always came down
when the House was not sitting seemed always to be present in Breadalby
although he was most conscientious in his attendance to duty
The summer was just coming in when Ursula and Gudrun went to stay the second
time with Hermione Coming along in the car after they had entered the park
they looked across the dip where the fishponds lay in silence at the pillared
front of the house sunny and small like an English drawing of the old school
on the brow of the green hill against the trees There were small figures on
the green lawn women in lavender and yellow moving to the shade of the
enormous beautifully balanced cedar tree
»Isnt it complete« said Gudrun »It is as final as an old aquatint« She
spoke with some resentment in her voice as if she were captivated unwillingly
as if she must admire against her will
»Do you love it« asked Ursula
»I dont love it but in its way I think it is quite complete«
The motorcar ran down the hill and up again in one breath and they were
curving to the side door A parlourmaid appeared and then Hermione coming
forward with her pale face lifted and her hands outstretched advancing
straight to the newcomers her voice singing
»Here you are Im so glad to see you « she kissed Gudrun »so glad to
see you « she kissed Ursula and remained with her arm round her »Are you very
tired«
»Not at all tired« said Ursula
»Are you tired Gudrun«
»Not at all thanks« said Gudrun
»No « drawled Hermione And she stood and looked at them The two girls
were embarrassed because she would not move into the house but must have her
little scene of welcome there on the path The servants waited
»Come in« said Hermione at last having fully taken in the pair of them
Gudrun was the more beautiful and attractive she had decided again Ursula was
more physical more womanly She admired Gudruns dress more It was of green
poplin with a loose coat above it of broad darkgreen and darkbrown stripes
The hat was of a pale greenish straw the colour of new hay and it had a
plaited ribbon of black and orange the stockings were dark green the shoes
black It was a good getup at once fashionable and individual Ursula in dark
blue was more ordinary though she also looked well
Hermione herself wore a dress of prunecoloured silk with coral beads and
coralcoloured stockings But her dress was both shabby and soiled even rather
dirty
»You would like to see your rooms now wouldnt you Yes We will go up now
shall we«
Ursula was glad when she could be left alone in her room Hermione lingered
so long made such a stress on one She stood so near to one pressing herself
near upon one in a way that was most embarrassing and oppressive She seemed to
hinder ones workings
Lunch was served on the lawn under the great tree whose thick blackish
boughs came down close to the grass There were present a young Italian woman
slight and fashionable a young athleticlooking Miss Bradley a learned dry
Baronet of fifty who was always making witticisms and laughing at them heartily
in a harsh horselaugh there was Rupert Birkin and then a woman secretary a
Fräulein März young and slim and pretty
The food was very good that was one thing Gudrun critical of everything
gave it her full approval Ursula loved the situation the white table by the
cedar tree the scent of new sunshine the little vision of the leafy park with
faroff deer feeding peacefully There seemed a magic circle drawn about the
place shutting out the present enclosing the delightful precious past trees
and deer and silence like a dream
But in spirit she was unhappy The talk went on like a rattle of small
artillery always slightly sententious with a sententiousness that was only
emphasised by the continual crackling of a witticism the continual spatter of
verbal jest designed to give a tone of flippancy to a stream of conversation
that was all critical and general a canal of conversation rather than a stream
The attitude was mental and very wearying Only the elderly sociologist
whose mental fibre was so tough as to be insentient seemed to be thoroughly
happy Birkin was down in the mouth Hermione appeared with amazing
persistence to wish to ridicule him and make him look ignominious in the eyes
of everybody And it was surprising how she seemed to succeed how helpless he
seemed against her He looked completely insignificant Ursula and Gudrun both
very unused were mostly silent listening to the slow rhapsodic singsong of
Hermione or the verbal sallies of Sir Joshua or the prattle of Fräulein or
the responses of the other two women
Luncheon was over coffee was brought out on the grass the party left the
table and sat about in lounge chairs in the shade or in the sunshine as they
wished Fräulein departed into the house Hermione took up her embroidery the
little Contessa took a book Miss Bradley was weaving a basket out of fine
grass and there they all were on the lawn in the early summer afternoon
working leisurely and spattering with halfintellectual deliberate talk
Suddenly there was the sound of the brakes and the shutting off of a
motorcar
»Theres Salsie« sang Hermione in her slow amusing singsong And laying
down her work she rose slowly and slowly passed over the lawn round the
bushes out of sight
»Who is it« asked Gudrun
»Mr Roddice Miss Roddices brother at least I suppose its he« said
Sir Joshua
»Salsie yes it is her brother« said the little Contessa lifting her head
for a moment from her book and speaking as if to give information in her
slightly deepened guttural English
They all waited And then round the bushes came the tall form of Alexander
Roddice striding romantically like a Meredith hero who remembers Disraeli He
was cordial with everybody he was at once a host with an easy offhand
hospitality that he had learned for Hermiones friends He had just come down
from London from the House At once the atmosphere of the House of Commons made
itself felt over the lawn the Home Secretary had said such and such a thing
and he Roddice on the other hand thought such and such a thing and had said
soandso to the PM
Now Hermione came round the bushes with Gerald Crich He had come along with
Alexander Gerald was presented to everybody was kept by Hermione for a few
moments in full view then he was led away still by Hermione He was evidently
her guest of the moment
There had been a split in the Cabinet the Minister for Education had
resigned owing to adverse criticism This started a conversation on education
»Of course« said Hermione lifting her face like a rhapsodist »there can
be no reason no excuse for education except the joy and beauty of knowledge in
itself.« She seemed to rumble and ruminate with subterranean thoughts for a
minute then she proceeded »Vocational education isnt education it is the
close of education«
Gerald on the brink of discussion sniffed the air with delight and
prepared for action
»Not necessarily« he said »But isnt education really like gymnastics
isnt the end of education the production of a welltrained vigorous energetic
mind«
»Just as athletics produce a healthy body ready for anything« cried Miss
Bradley in hearty accord
Gudrun looked at her in silent loathing
»Well « rumbled Hermione »I dont know To me the pleasure of knowing is
so great so wonderful nothing has meant so much to me in all life as certain
knowledge no I am sure nothing«
»What knowledge for example, Hermione« asked Alexander
Hermione lifted her face and rumbled
»M m m I dont know But one thing was the stars when I really
understood something about the stars One feels so uplifted so unbounded «
Birkin looked at her in a white fury
»What do you want to feel unbounded for« he said sarcastically »You dont
want to be unbounded«
Hermione recoiled in offence
»Yes but one does have that limitless feeling« said Gerald »Its like
getting on top of the mountain and seeing the Pacific«
»Silent upon a peak in Dariayn« murmured the Italian lifting her face for
a moment from her book
»Not necessarily in Darien« said Gerald while Ursula began to laugh
Hermione waited for the dust to settle and then she said untouched
»Yes it is the greatest thing in life to know It is really to be happy
to be free«
»Knowledge is, of course liberty« said Mattheson
»In compressed tabloids« said Birkin looking at the dry stiff little body
of the Baronet Immediately Gudrun saw the famous sociologist as a flat bottle
containing tabloids of compressed liberty That pleased her Sir Joshua was
labelled and placed forever in her mind
»What does that mean Rupert« sang Hermione in a calm snub
»You can only have knowledge strictly« he replied »of things concluded
in the past Its like bottling the liberty of last summer in the bottled
gooseberries«
»Can one have knowledge only of the past« asked the Baronet pointedly
»Could we call our knowledge of the laws of gravitation for instance knowledge
of the past«
»Yes« said Birkin
»There is a most beautiful thing in my book« suddenly piped the little
Italian woman »It says the man came to the door and threw his eyes down the
street«
There was a general laugh in the company Miss Bradley went and looked over
the shoulder of the Contessa
»See« said the Contessa
»Bazarov came to the door and threw his eyes hurriedly down the street« she
read
Again there was a loud laugh the most startling of which was the Baronets
which rattled out like a clatter of falling stones
»What is the book« asked Alexander promptly
»Fathers and Sons by Turgenev« said the little foreigner pronouncing
every syllable distinctly She looked at the cover to verify herself
»An old American edition« said Birkin
»Ha of course translated from the French« said Alexander with a fine
declamatory voice »Bazarov ouvra la porte et jeta les yeux dans la rue«
He looked brightly round the company
»I wonder what the hurriedly was« said Ursula
They all began to guess
And then to the amazement of everybody the maid came hurrying with a large
teatray The afternoon had passed so swiftly
After tea they were all gathered for a walk
»Would you like to come for a walk« said Hermione to each of them one by
one And they all said yes feeling somehow like prisoners marshalled for
exercise Birkin only refused
»Will you come for a walk Rupert«
»No Hermione«
»But are you sure«
»Quite sure« There was a seconds hesitation
»And why not« sang Hermiones question It made her blood run sharp to be
thwarted in even so trifling a matter She intended them all to walk with her in
the park
»Because I dont like trooping off in a gang« he said
Her voice rumbled in her throat for a moment Then she said with a curious
stray calm
»Then well leave a little boy behind if hes sulky«
And she looked really gay while she insulted him But it merely made him
stiff
She trailed off to the rest of the company only turning to wave her
handkerchief to him and to chuckle with laughter singing out
»Goodbye goodbye little boy«
»Goodbye impudent hag« he said to himself
They all went through the park Hermione wanted to show them the wild
daffodils on a little slope »This way this way« sang her leisurely voice at
intervals And they had all to come this way The daffodils were pretty but who
could see them Ursula was stiff all over with resentment by this time
resentment of the whole atmosphere Gudrun mocking and objective watched and
registered everything
They looked at the shy deer and Hermione talked to the stag as if he too
were a boy she wanted to wheedle and fondle He was male so she must exert some
kind of power over him They trailed home by the fishponds and Hermione told
them about the quarrel of two male swans who had striven for the love of the
one lady She chuckled and laughed as she told how the ousted lover had sat with
his head buried under his wing on the gravel
When they arrived back at the house Hermione stood on the lawn and sang
out in a strange small high voice that carried very far
»Rupert Rupert« The first syllable was high and slow the second dropped
down »Roooopert«
But there was no answer A maid appeared
»Where is Mr Birkin Alice« asked the mild straying voice of Hermione But
under the straying voice what a persistent almost insane will
»I think hes in his room madame«
»Is he«
Hermione went slowly up the stairs along the corridor singing out in her
high small call
»Ruoopert Ruoopert«
She came to his door and tapped still crying »Roopert«
»Yes« sounded his voice at last
»What are you doing«
The question was mild and curious
There was no answer Then he opened the door
»Weve come back« said Hermione »The daffodils are so beautiful«
»Yes« he said »Ive seen them«
She looked at him with her long slow impassive look along her cheeks
»Have you« she echoed And she remained looking at him She was stimulated
above all things by this conflict with him when he was like a sulky boy
helpless and she had him safe at Breadalby But underneath she knew the split
was coming and her hatred of him was subconscious and intense
»What were you doing« she reiterated in her mild indifferent tone He did
not answer and she made her way almost unconsciously into his room He had
taken a Chinese drawing of geese from the boudoir and was copying it with much
skill and vividness
»You are copying the drawing« she said standing near the table and
looking down at his work »Yes How beautifully you do it You like it very
much dont you«
»Its a marvellous drawing« he said
»Is it Im so glad you like it because Ive always been fond of it The
Chinese Ambassador gave it me«
»I know« he said
»But why do you copy it« she asked casual and singsong »Why not do
something original«
»I want to know it« he replied »One gets more of China copying this
picture than reading all the books«
»And what do you get«
She was at once roused she laid as it were violent hands on him to extract
his secrets from him She must know It was a dreadful tyranny an obsession in
her to know all he knew For some time he was silent hating to answer her
Then compelled he began
»I know what centres they live from what they perceive and feel the hot
stinging centrality of a goose in the flux of cold water and mud the curious
bitter stinging heat of a gooses blood entering their own blood like an
inoculation of corruptive fire fire of the coldburning mud the lotus
mystery«
Hermione looked at him along her narrow pallid cheeks Her eyes were
strange and drugged heavy under their heavy drooping lids Her thin bosom
shrugged convulsively He stared back at her devilish and unchanging With
another strange sick convulsion she turned away as if she were sick could
feel dissolution settingin in her body For with her mind she was unable to
attend to his words he caught her as it were beneath all her defences and
destroyed her with some insidious occult potency
»Yes« she said as if she did not know what she were saying »Yes« and she
swallowed and tried to regain her mind But she could not she was witless
decentralised Use all her will as she might she could not recover She
suffered the ghastliness of dissolution broken and gone in a horrible
corruption And he stood and looked at her unmoved She strayed out pallid and
preyedupon like a ghost like one attacked by the tombinfluences which dog us
And she was gone like a corpse that has no presence no connection He remained
hard and vindictive
Hermione came down to dinner strange and sepulchral her eyes heavy and full
of sepulchral darkness strength She had put on a dress of stiff old greenish
brocade that fitted tight and made her look tall and rather terrible ghastly
In the gay light of the drawingroom she was uncanny and oppressive But seated
in the halflight of the diningroom sitting stiffly before the shaded candles
on the table she seemed a power a presence She listened and attended with a
drugged attention
The party was gay and extravagant in appearance everybody had put on
evening dress except Birkin and Joshua Mattheson The little Italian Contessa
wore a dress of tissue of orange and gold and black velvet in soft wide
stripes Gudrun was emerald green with strange network Ursula was in yellow
with dull silver veiling Miss Bradley was of grey crimson and jet Fräulein
März wore pale blue It gave Hermione a sudden convulsive sensation of pleasure
to see these rich colours under the candlelight She was aware of the talk
going on ceaselessly Joshuas voice dominating of the ceaseless pitterpatter
of womens light laughter and responses of the brilliant colours and the white
table and the shadow above and below and she seemed in a swoon of
gratification convulsed with pleasure and yet sick like a revenant She took
very little part in the conversation yet she heard it all it was all hers
They all went together into the drawingroom as if they were one family
easily without any attention to ceremony Fräulein handed the coffee everybody
smoked cigarettes or else long warden pipes of white clay of which a sheaf was
provided
»Will you smoke cigarettes or pipe« asked Fräulein prettily There was a
circle of people Sir Joshua with his eighteenthcentury appearance Gerald the
amused handsome young Englishman Alexander tall and the handsome politician
democratic and lucid Hermione strange like a long Cassandra and the women
lurid with colour all dutifully smoking their long white pipes and sitting in
a halfmoon in the comfortable softlighted drawingroom round the logs that
flickered on the marble hearth
The talk was very often political or sociological and interesting
curiously anarchistic There was an accumulation of powerful force in the room
powerful and destructive Everything seemed to be thrown into the meltingpot
and it seemed to Ursula they were all witches helping the pot to bubble There
was an elation and a satisfaction in it all but it was cruelly exhausting for
the newcomers this ruthless mental pressure this powerful consuming
destructive mentality that emanated from Joshua and Hermione and Birkin and
dominated the rest
But a sickness a fearful nausea gathered possession of Hermione There was
a lull in the talk as it was arrested by her unconscious but allpowerful will
»Salsie wont you play something« said Hermione breaking off completely
»Wont somebody dance Gudrun you will dance wont you I wish you would
Anche tu Palestra ballerai si per piacere You too Ursula«
Hermione rose and slowly pulled the goldembroidered band that hung by the
mantel clinging to it for a moment then releasing it suddenly Like a
priestess she looked unconscious sunk in a heavy halftrance
A servant came and soon reappeared with armfuls of silk robes and shawls
and scarves mostly Oriental things that Hermione with her love for beautiful
extravagant dress had collected gradually
»The three women will dance together« she said
»What shall it be« asked Alexander rising briskly
»Vergini Delle Rocchette« said the Contessa at once
»They are so languid« said Ursula
»The three witches from Macbeth« suggested Fräulein usefully It was
finally decided to do Naomi and Ruth and Orpah Ursula was Naomi Gudrun was
Ruth the Contessa was Orpah The idea was to make a little ballet in the style
of the Russian Ballet of Pavlova and Nijinsky
The Contessa was ready first Alexander went to the piano a space was
cleared Orpah in beautiful Oriental clothes began slowly to dance the death
of her husband Then Ruth came and they wept together and lamented then Naomi
came to comfort them It was all done in dumb show the women danced their
emotion in gesture and motion The little drama went on for a quarter of an
hour
Ursula was beautiful as Naomi All her men were dead it remained to her
only to stand alone in indomitable assertion demanding nothing Ruth
womanloving loved her Orpah a vivid sensational subtle widow would go
back to the former life a repetition The interplay between the women was real
and rather frightening It was strange to see how Gudrun clung with heavy
desperate passion to Ursula yet smiled with subtle malevolence against her how
Ursula accepted silently unable to provide any more either for herself or for
the other but dangerous and indomitable refuting her grief
Hermione loved to watch She could see the Contessas rapid stoatlike
sensationalism Gudruns ultimate but treacherous cleaving to the woman in her
sister Ursulas dangerous helplessness as if she were helplessly weighted and
unreleased
»That was very beautiful« everybody cried with one accord But Hermione
writhed in her soul knowing what she could not know She cried out for more
dancing and it was her will that set the Contessa and Birkin moving mockingly
in Malbrouk
Gerald was excited by the desperate cleaving of Gudrun to Naomi The essence
of that female subterranean recklessness and mockery penetrated his blood He
could not forget Gudruns lifted offered cleaving reckless yet withal
mocking weight And Birkin watching like a hermit crab from its hole had seen
the brilliant frustration and helplessness of Ursula She was rich full of
dangerous power She was like a strange unconscious bud of powerful womanhood
He was unconsciously drawn to her She was his future
Alexander played some Hungarian music and they all danced seized by the
spirit Gerald was marvellously exhilarated at finding himself in motion moving
towards Gudrun dancing with feet that could not yet escape from the waltz and
the twostep but feeling his force stir along his limbs and his body out of
captivity He did not know yet how to dance their convulsive ragtime sort of
dancing but he knew how to begin Birkin when he could get free from the
weight of the people present whom he disliked danced rapidly and with a real
gaiety And how Hermione hated him for this irresponsible gaiety
»Now I see« cried the Contessa excitedly watching his purely gay motion
which he had all to himself »Mr Birkin he is a changer«
Hermione looked at her slowly and shuddered knowing that only a foreigner
could have seen and have said this
»Cosa vuoldire Palestra« she asked singsong
»Look« said the Contessa in Italian »He is not a man he is a chameleon
a creature of change«
»He is not a man he is treacherous not one of us« said itself over in
Hermiones consciousness. And her soul writhed in the black subjugation to him
because of his power to escape to exist, other than she did because he was not
consistent not a man less than a man She hated him in a despair that
shattered her and broke her down so that she suffered sheer dissolution like a
corpse and was unconscious of everything save the horrible sickness of
dissolution that was taking place within her body and soul
The house being full Gerald was given the smaller room really the
dressingroom communicating with Birkins bedroom When they all took their
candles and mounted the stairs where the lamps were burning subduedly Hermione
captured Ursula and brought her into her own bedroom to talk to her A sort of
constraint came over Ursula in the big strange bedroom Hermione seemed to be
bearing down on her awful and inchoate making some appeal They were looking
at some Indian silk shirts gorgeous and sensual in themselves, their shape
their almost corrupt gorgeousness And Hermione came near and her bosom
writhed and Ursula was for a moment blank with panic And for a moment
Hermiones haggard eyes saw the fear on the face of the other there was again a
sort of crash a crashing down And Ursula picked up a shirt of rich red and
blue silk made for a young princess of fourteen and was crying mechanically
»Isnt it wonderful who would dare to put those two strong colours
together «
Then Hermiones maid entered silently and Ursula overcome with dread
escaped carried away by powerful impulse
Birkin went straight to bed He was feeling happy and sleepy Since he had
danced he was happy But Gerald would talk to him Gerald in evening dress sat
on Birkins bed when the other lay down and must talk
»Who are those two Brangwens« Gerald asked
»They live in Beldover«
»In Beldover Who are they then«
»Teachers in the Grammar School«
There was a pause
»They are« exclaimed Gerald at length »I thought I had seen them before«
»It disappoints you« said Birkin
»Disappoints me No but how is it Hermione has them here«
»She knew Gudrun in London thats the younger one the one with the darker
hair shes an artist does sculpture and modelling«
»Shes not a teacher in the Grammar School then only the other«
»Both Gudrun art mistress Ursula a class mistress«
»And whats the father«
»Handicraft instructor in the schools«
»Really«
»Classbarriers are breaking down«
Gerald was always uneasy under the slightly jeering tone of the other
»That their father is handicraft instructor in a school What does it matter
to me«
Birkin laughed Gerald looked at his face as it lay there laughing and
bitter and indifferent on the pillow and he could not go away
»I dont suppose you will see very much more of Gudrun at least She is a
restless bird shell be gone in a week or two« said Birkin
»Where will she go«
»London Paris Rome heaven knows I always expect her to sheer off to
Damascus or San Francisco shes a bird of paradise God knows what shes got to
do with Beldover It goes by contraries like dreams«
Gerald pondered for a few moments
»How do you know her so well« he asked
»I knew her in London« he replied »in the Algernon Strange set Shell
know about Minette and Libidnikov and the rest even if she doesnt know them
personally She was never quite that set more conventional in a way Ive
known her for two years I suppose«
»And she makes money apart from her teaching« asked Gerald
»Some irregularly She can sell her models She has a certain réclame«
»How much for«
»A guinea ten guineas«
»And are they good What are they«
»I think sometimes they are marvellously good That is hers those two
wagtails in Hermiones boudoir youve seen them they are carved in wood and
painted«
»I thought it was savage carving again«
»No hers Thats what they are animals and birds sometimes odd small
people in everyday dress really rather wonderful when they come off They have
a sort of funniness that is quite unconscious and subtle«
»She might be a wellknown artist one day« mused Gerald
»She might But I think she wont She drops her art if anything else
catches her Her contrariness prevents her taking it seriously she must never
be too serious she feels she might give herself away And she wont give
herself away shes always on the defensive Thats what I cant stand about
her type By the way how did things go off with Minette after I left you I
havent heard anything«
»Oh rather disgusting Halliday turned objectionable and I only just saved
myself from jumping in his stomach in a real oldfashioned row«
Birkin was silent
»Of course« he said »Julius is somewhat insane On the one hand hes had
religious mania and on the other he is fascinated by obscenity Either he is a
pure servant washing the feet of Christ or else he is making obscene drawings
of Jesus action and reaction and between the two nothing He is really
insane He wants a pure lily another girl with a Botticelli face on the one
hand and on the other he must have Minette just to defile himself with her«
»Thats what I cant make out« said Gerald »Does he love her Minette or
doesnt he«
»He neither does nor doesnt She is the harlot the actual harlot of
adultery to him And hes got a craving to throw himself into the filth of her
Then he gets up and calls on the name of the lily of purity the babyfaced
girl and so enjoys himself all round Its the old story action and reaction
and nothing between«
»I dont know« said Gerald after a pause »that he does insult Minette so
very much She strikes me as being rather foul«
»But I thought you liked her« exclaimed Birkin »I always felt fond of her
I never had anything to do with her personally thats true«
»I liked her all right for a couple of days« said Gerald »But a week of
her would have turned me over Theres a certain smell about the skin of those
women that in the end is sickening beyond words even if you like it at
first«
»I know« said Birkin Then he added rather fretfully »But go to bed
Gerald God knows what time it is«
Gerald looked at his watch and at length rose off the bed and went to his
room But he returned in a few minutes in his shirt
»One thing« he said seating himself on the bed again »We finished up
rather stormily and I never had time to give her anything«
»Money« said Birkin »Shell get what she wants from Halliday or from one
of her acquaintances«
»But then« said Gerald »Id rather give her her dues and settle the
account«
»She doesnt care«
»No perhaps not But one feels the account is left open and one would
rather it were closed«
»Would you« said Birkin He was looking at the white legs of Gerald as the
latter sat on the side of the bed in his shirt They were whiteskinned full
muscular legs handsome and decided Yet they moved Birkin with a sort of
pathos tenderness as if they were childish
»I think Id rather close the account« said Gerald repeating himself
vaguely
»It doesnt matter one way or another« said Birkin
»You always say it doesnt matter« said Gerald a little puzzled looking
down at the face of the other man affectionately
»Neither does it« said Birkin
»But she was a decent sort really «
»Render unto Cæsarina the things that are Cæsarinas« said Birkin turning
aside It seemed to him Gerald was talking for the sake of talking »Go away it
wearies me its too late at night« he said
»I wish youd tell me something that did matter« said Gerald looking down
all the time at the face of the other man waiting for something But Birkin
turned his face aside
»All right then go to sleep« said Gerald and he laid his hand
affectionately on the other mans shoulder and went away
In the morning when Gerald awoke and heard Birkin move he called out »I
still think I ought to give Minette some money«
»Oh God« said Birkin »dont be so matterof-fact. Close the account in
your own soul if you like It is there you cant close it«
»How do you know I cant«
»Knowing you«
Gerald meditated for some moments
»It seems to me the right thing to do you know with the Minettes is to
pay them«
»And the right thing for mistresses keep them And the right thing for
wives live under the same roof with them Integer vitae scelerisque purus «
said Birkin
»Theres no need to be nasty about it« said Gerald
»It bores me Im not interested in your peccadilloes«
»And I dont care whether you are or not I am«
The morning was again sunny The maid had been in and brought the water and
had drawn the curtains Birkin sitting up in bed looked lazily and pleasantly
out on the park that was so green and deserted romantic belonging to the
past He was thinking how lovely how sure how formed how final all the things
of the past were the lovely accomplished past this house so still and
golden the park slumbering its centuries of peace And then what a snare and a
delusion this beauty of static things what a horrible dead prison Breadalby
really was what an intolerable confinement the peace Yet it was better than
the sordid scrambling conflict of the present If only one might create the
future after ones own heart for a little pure truth a little unflinching
application of simple truth to life the heart cried out ceaselessly
»I cant see what you will leave me at all to be interested in« came
Geralds voice from the lower room »Neither the Minettes nor the mines nor
anything else«
»You be interested in what you can Gerald Only Im not interested myself«
said Birkin
»What am I to do at all then« came Geralds voice
»What you like What am I to do myself«
In the silence Birkin could feel Gerald musing this fact
»Im blest if I know« came the goodhumoured answer
»You see« said Birkin »part of you wants Minette and nothing but Minette
part of you wants the mines the business and nothing but the business and
there you are all in bits «
»And part of me wants something else« said Gerald in a queer quiet real
voice
»What« said Birkin rather surprised
»Thats what I hoped you could tell me« said Gerald
There was a silence for some time
»I cant tell you I cant find my own way let alone yours You might
marry« Birkin replied
»Who Minette« asked Gerald
»Perhaps« said Birkin And he rose and went to the window
»That is your panacea« said Gerald »But you havent even tried it on
yourself yet and you are sick enough«
»I am« said Birkin »Still I shall come right«
»Through marriage«
»Yes« Birkin answered obstinately
»And no« added Gerald »No no no my boy«
There was a silence between them and a strange tension of hostility They
always kept a gap a distance between them they wanted always to be free each
of the other Yet there was a curious heartstraining towards each other
»Salvator femminus« said Gerald satirically
»Why not« said Birkin
»No reason at all« said Gerald »if it really works But whom will you
marry«
»A woman« said Birkin
»Good« said Gerald
Birkin and Gerald were the last to come down to breakfast Hermione liked
everybody to be early She suffered when she felt her day was diminished she
felt she had missed her life She seemed to grip the hours by the throat to
force her life from them She was rather pale and ghastly as if left behind in
the morning Yet she had her power her will was strangely pervasive With the
entrance of the two young men a sudden tension was felt
She lifted her face and said in her amused singsong
»Good morning Did you sleep well Im so glad«
And she turned away ignoring them Birkin who knew her well saw that she
intended to discount his existence
»Will you take what you want from the sideboard« said Alexander in a voice
slightly suggesting disapprobation »I hope the things arent cold Oh no Do
you mind putting out the flame under the chafingdish Rupert Thank you«
Even Alexander was rather authoritative where Hermione was cool He took his
tone from her inevitably Birkin sat down and looked at the table He was so
used to this house to this room to this atmosphere through years of intimacy
and now he felt in complete opposition to it all it had nothing to do with him
How well he knew Hermione as she sat there erect and silent and somewhat
bemused and yet so potent so powerful He knew her statically so finally
that it was almost like a madness It was difficult to believe one was not mad
that one was not a figure in the hall of kings in some Egyptian tomb where the
dead all sat immemorial and tremendous How utterly he knew Joshua Matheson who
was talking in his harsh yet rather mincing voice endlessly endlessly always
with a strong mentality working always interesting and yet always known
everything he said known beforehand however novel it was and clever Alexander
the uptodate host so bloodlessly freeandeasy Fräulein so prettily chiming
in just as she should the little Italian Countess taking notice of everybody
only playing her little game objective and cold like a weasel watching
everything and extracting her own amusement never giving herself in the
slightest then Miss Bradley heavy and rather subservient treated with cool
almost amused contempt by Hermione and therefore slighted by everybody how
known it all was like a game with the figures set out the same figures the
Queen of chess the knights the pawns the same now as they were hundreds of
years ago the same figures moving round in one of the innumerable permutations
that make up the game But the game is known its going on is like a madness it
is so exhausted
There was Gerald an amused look on his face the game pleased him There
was Gudrun watching with steady large hostile eyes the game fascinated her
and she loathed it There was Ursula with a slightly startled look on her face
as if she were hurt and the pain were just outside her consciousness
Suddenly Birkin got up and went out
»Thats enough« he said to himself involuntarily
Hermione knew his motion though not in her consciousness She lifted her
heavy eyes and saw him lapse suddenly away on a sudden unknown tide and the
waves broke over her Only her indomitable will remained static and mechanical
she sat at the table making her musing stray remarks But the darkness had
covered her she was like a ship that has gone down It was finished for her
too she was wrecked in the darkness Yet the unfailing mechanism of her will
worked on she had that activity
»Shall we bathe this morning« she said suddenly looking at them all
»Splendid« said Joshua »It is a perfect morning«
»Oh it is beautiful« said Fräulein
»Yes let us bathe« said the Italian woman
»We have no bathingsuits« said Gerald
»Have mine« said Alexander »I must go to church and read the lessons They
expect me«
»Are you a Christian« asked the Italian Countess with sudden interest
»No« said Alexander »Im not But I believe in keeping up the old
institutions«
»They are so beautiful« said Fräulein daintily
»Oh they are« cried Miss Bradley
They all trailed out on to the lawn It was a sunny soft morning in early
summer when life ran in the world subtly like a reminiscence The church bells
were ringing a little way off not a cloud was in the sky the swans were like
lilies on the water below the peacocks walked with long prancing steps across
the shadow and into the sunshine of the grass One wanted to swoon into the
bygone perfection of it all
»Goodbye« called Alexander waving his gloves cheerily and he disappeared
behind the bushes on his way to church
»Now« said Hermione »shall we all bathe«
»I wont« said Ursula
»You dont want to« said Hermione looking at her slowly
»No I dont want to« said Ursula
»Nor I« said Gudrun
»What about my suit« asked Gerald
»I dont know« laughed Hermione with an odd amused intonation »Will a
handkerchief do a large handkerchief«
»That will do« said Gerald
»Come along then« sang Hermione
The first to run across the lawn was the little Italian small and like a
cat her white legs twinkling as she went ducking slightly her head that was
tied in a gold silk kerchief She tripped through the gate and down the grass
and stood like a tiny figure of ivory and bronze at the waters edge having
dropped off her towelling watching the swans which came up in surprise Then
out ran Miss Bradley like a large soft plum in her darkblue suit Then Gerald
came a scarlet silk kerchief round his loins his towels over his arms He
seemed to flaunt himself a little in the sun lingering and laughing strolling
easily looking white but natural in his nakedness Then came Sir Joshua in an
overcoat and lastly Hermione striding with stiff grace from out of a great
mantle of purple silk her head tied up in purple and gold Handsome was her
stiff long body her straightstepping white legs there was a static
magnificence about her as she let the cloak float loosely away from her
striding She crossed the lawn like some strange memory and passed slowly and
statelily towards the water
There were three ponds in terraces descending the valley large and smooth
and beautiful lying in the sun The water ran over a little stone wall over
small rocks splashing down from one pond to the level below The swans had gone
out on to the opposite bank the reeds smelled sweet a faint breeze touched the
skin
Gerald had dived in after Sir Joshua and had swum to the end of the pond
There he climbed out and sat on the wall There was a dive and the little
Countess was swimming like a rat to join him They both sat in the sun
laughing and crossing their arms on their breasts Sir Joshua swam up to them
and stood near them up to his armpits in the water Then Hermione and Miss
Bradley swam over and they sat in a row on the embankment
»Arent they terrifying Arent they really terrifying« said Gudrun »Dont
they look saurian They are just like great lizards Did you ever see anything
like Sir Joshua But really Ursula he belongs to the primeval world when
great lizards crawled about«
Gudrun looked in dismay on Sir Joshua who stood up to the breast in the
water his long greyish hair washed down into his eyes his neck set into
thick crude shoulders He was talking to Miss Bradley who seated on the bank
above plump and big and wet looked as if she might roll and slither in the
water almost like one of the slithering sealions in the Zoo
Ursula watched in silence Gerald was laughing happily between Hermione and
the Italian He reminded her of Dionysus because his hair was really yellow
his figure so full and laughing Hermione in her large stiff sinister grace
leaned near him frightening as if she were not responsible for what she might
do He knew a certain danger in her a convulsive madness But he only laughed
the more turning often to the little Countess who was flashing up her face at
him
They all dropped into the water and were swimming together like a shoal of
seals Hermione was powerful and unconscious in the water large and slow and
powerful Palestra was quick and silent as a waterrat Gerald wavered and
flickered a white natural shadow Then one after the other they waded out
and went up to the house
But Gerald lingered a moment to speak to Gudrun
»You dont like the water« he said
She looked at him with a long slow inscrutable look as he stood before her
negligently the water standing in beads all over his skin
»I like it very much« she replied
He paused expecting some sort of explanation
»And you swim«
»Yes I swim«
Still he would not ask her why she would not go in then He could feel
something ironic in her He walked away piqued for the first time
»Why wouldnt you bathe« he asked her again later when he was once more
the properlydressed young Englishman
She hesitated a moment before answering opposing his persistence
»Because I didnt like the crowd« she replied
He laughed her phrase seemed to reecho in his consciousness. The flavour
of her slang was piquant to him Whether he would or not she signified the real
world to him He wanted to come up to her standards fulfil her expectations He
knew that her criterion was the only one that mattered The others were all
outsiders instinctively whatever they might be socially And Gerald could not
help it he was bound to strive to come up to her criterion fulfil her idea of
a man and a human being
After lunch when all the others had withdrawn Hermione and Gerald and
Birkin lingered finishing their talk There had been some discussion on the
whole quite intellectual and artificial about a new state a new world of man
Supposing this old social state were broken and destroyed then out of the
chaos what then
The great social idea said Sir Joshua was the social equality of man No
said Gerald the idea was that every man was fit for his own little bit of a
task let him do that and then please himself The unifying principle was the
work in hand Only work the business of production held men together It was
mechanical but then society was a mechanism Apart from work they were
isolated free to do as they liked
»Oh« cried Gudrun »Then we shant have names any more we shall be like
the Germans nothing but Herr Obermeister and Herr Untermeister I can imagine
it I am Mrs Colliery Manager Crich I am Mrs MemberofParliament
Roddice I am Miss ArtTeacher Brangwen Very pretty that«
»Things would work very much better Miss ArtTeacher Brangwen« said
Gerald
»What things Mr CollieryManager Crich The relation between you and me
par exemple«
»Yes for example,« cried the Italian »That which is between men and women
«
»That is nonsocial« said Birkin sarcastically
»Exactly« said Gerald »Between me and a woman the social question does
not enter It is my own affair«
»A tenpound note on it« said Birkin
»You dont admit that a woman is a social being« asked Ursula of Gerald
»She is both« said Gerald »She is a social being as far as society is
concerned But for her own private self she is a free agent it is her own
affair what she does«
»But wont it be rather difficult to arrange the two halves« asked Ursula
»Oh no« replied Gerald »They arrange themselves naturally we see it now
everywhere«
»Dont you laugh so pleasantly till youre out of the wood« said Birkin
Gerald knitted his brows in momentary irritation
»Was I laughing« he said
»If« said Hermione at last »we could only realise that in the spirit we
are all one all equal in the spirit all brothers there the rest wouldnt
matter there would be no more of this carping and envy and this struggle for
power which destroys only destroys«
This speech was received in silence and almost immediately the party rose
from the table But when the others had gone Birkin turned round in bitter
declamation saying
»It is just the opposite just the contrary Hermione We are all different
and unequal in spirit it is only the social differences that are based on
accidental material conditions We are all abstractly or mathematically equal
if you like Every man has hunger and thirst two eyes one nose and two legs
Were all the same in point of number. But spiritually there is pure difference
and neither equality nor inequality counts It is upon these two bits of
knowledge that you must found a state Your democracy is an absolute lie your
brotherhood of man is a pure falsity if you apply it further than the
mathematical abstraction We all drank milk first we all eat bread and meat we
all want to ride in motorcars therein lies the beginning and the end of the
brotherhood of man But no equality
But I myself who am myself what have I to do with equality with any other
man or woman In the spirit I am as separate as one star is from another as
different in quality and quantity Establish a state on that One man isnt any
better than another not because they are equal, but because they are
intrinsically other that there is no term of comparison The minute you begin
to compare one man is seen to be far better than another all the inequality
you can imagine is there by nature I want every man to have his share in the
worlds goods so that I am rid of his importunity so that I can tell him Now
youve got what you want youve got your fair share of the worlds gear Now
you onemouthed fool mind yourself and dont obstruct me«
Hermione was looking at him with leering eyes along her cheeks He could
feel violent waves of hatred and loathing of all he said coming out of her It
was dynamic hatred and loathing coming strong and black out of the
unconsciousness She heard his words in her unconscious self consciously she
was as if deafened she paid no heed to them
»It sounds like megalomania Rupert« said Gerald genially
Hermione gave a queer grunting sound Birkin stood back
»Yes let it« he said suddenly the whole tone gone out of his voice that
had been so insistent bearing everybody down And he went away
But he felt later a little compunction He had been violent cruel with
poor Hermione He wanted to recompense her to make it up He had hurt her he
had been vindictive He wanted to be on good terms with her again
He went into her boudoir a remote and very cushiony place She was sitting
at her table writing letters She lifted her face abstractedly when he entered
watched him go to the sofa and sit down Then she looked down at her paper
again
He took up a large volume which he had been reading before and became
minutely attentive to his author His back was towards Hermione She could not
go on with her writing Her whole mind was a chaos darkness breaking in upon
it and herself struggling to gain control with her will as a swimmer struggles
with the swirling water But in spite of her efforts she was borne down
darkness seemed to break over her she felt as if her heart was bursting The
terrible tension grew stronger and stronger it was most fearful agony like
being walled up
And then she realised that his presence was the wall his presence was
destroying her Unless she could break out she must die most fearfully walled
up in horror And he was the wall She must break down the wall she must break
him down before her the awful obstruction of him who obstructed her life to the
last It must be done or she must perish most horribly
Terrible shocks ran over her body like shocks of electricity as if many
volts of electricity suddenly struck her down She was aware of him sitting
silently there an unthinkable evil obstruction Only this blotted out her mind
pressed out her very breathing his silent stooping back the back of his head
A terrible voluptuous thrill ran down her arms she was going to know her
voluptuous consummation Her arms quivered and were strong immeasurably and
irresistibly strong What delight what delight in strength what delirium of
pleasure She was going to have her consummation of voluptuous ecstasy at last
It was coming In utmost terror and agony she knew it was upon her now in
extremity of bliss Her hand closed on a blue beautiful ball of lapis lazuli
that stood on her desk for a paperweight She rolled it round in her hand as
she rose silently Her heart was a pure flame in her breast she was purely
unconscious in ecstasy She moved towards him and stood behind him for a moment
in ecstasy He closed within the spell remained motionless and unconscious
Then swiftly in a flame that drenched down her body like fluid lightning
and gave her a perfect unutterable consummation unutterable satisfaction she
brought down the ball of jewel stone with all her force crash on his head But
her fingers were in the way and deadened the blow Nevertheless down went his
head on the table on which his book lay the stone slid aside and over his ear
it was one convulsion of pure bliss for her lit up by the crushed pain of her
fingers But it was not somehow complete She lifted her arm high to aim once
more straight down on the head that lay dazed on the table She must smash it
it must be smashed before her ecstasy was consummated fulfilled for ever A
thousand lives a thousand deaths mattered nothing now only the fulfilment of
this perfect ecstasy
She was not swift she could only move slowly A strong spirit in him woke
him and made him lift his face and twist to look at her Her arm was raised the
hand clasping the ball of lapis lazuli It was her left hand he realised again
with horror that she was lefthanded Hurriedly with a burrowing motion he
covered his head under the thick volume of Thucydides and the blow came down
almost breaking his neck and shattering his heart
He was shattered but he was not afraid Twisting round to face her he
pushed the table over and got away from her He was like a flask that is smashed
to atoms he seemed to himself that he was all fragments smashed to bits Yet
his movements were perfectly coherent and clear his soul was entire and
unsurprised
»No you dont Hermione« he said in a low voice »I dont let you«
He saw her standing tall and livid and attentive the stone clenched tense
in her hand
»Stand away and let me go« he said drawing near to her
As if pressed back by some hand she stood away watching him all the time
without changing like a neutralised angel confronting him
»It is no good« he said when he had gone past her »It isnt I who will
die You hear«
He kept his face to her as he went out lest she should strike again While
he was on his guard she dared not move And he was on his guard she was
powerless So he had gone and left her standing
She remained perfectly rigid standing as she was for a long time Then she
staggered to the couch and lay down and went heavily to sleep When she awoke
she remembered what she had done but it seemed to her she had only hit him as
any woman might do because he tortured her She was perfectly right She knew
that spiritually she was right In her own infallible purity she had done
what must be done She was right she was pure A drugged almost sinister
religious expression became permanent on her face
Birkin barely conscious and yet perfectly direct in his motion went out
of the house and straight across the park to the open country to the hills
The brilliant day had become overcast spots of rain were falling He wandered
on to a wild valleyside where were thickets of hazel many flowers tufts of
heather and little clumps of young firtrees budding with soft paws It was
rather wet everywhere there was a stream running down at the bottom of the
valley which was gloomy or seemed gloomy He was aware that he could not
regain his consciousness that he was moving in a sort of darkness
Yet he wanted something He was happy in the wet hillside that was
overgrown and obscure with bushes and flowers He wanted to touch them all to
saturate himself with the touch of them all He took off his clothes and sat
down naked among the primroses moving his feet softly among the primroses his
legs his knees his arms right up to the armpits lying down and letting them
touch his belly his breasts It was such a fine cool subtle touch all over
him he seemed to saturate himself with their contact
But they were too soft He went through the long grass to a clump of young
firtrees that were no higher than a man The soft sharp boughs beat upon him
as he moved in keen pangs against them threw little cold showers of drops on
his belly and beat his loins with their clusters of softsharp needles There
was a thistle which pricked him vividly but not too much because all his
movements were too discriminate and soft To lie down and roll in the sticky
cool young hyacinths to lie on ones belly and cover ones back with handfuls
of fine wet grass soft as a breath soft and more delicate and more beautiful
than the touch of any woman and then to sting ones thigh against the living
dark bristles of the firboughs and then to feel the light whip of the hazel on
ones shoulders stinging and then to clasp the silvery birchtrunk against
ones breast its smoothness its hardness its vital knots and ridges this
was good this was all very good very satisfying Nothing else would do
nothing else would satisfy except this coolness and subtlety of vegetation
travelling into ones blood How fortunate he was that there was this lovely
subtle responsive vegetation waiting for him as he waited for it how
fulfilled he was how happy
As he dried himself a little with his handkerchief he thought about
Hermione and the blow He could feel a pain on the side of his head But after
all what did it matter What did Hermione matter what did people matter
altogether There was this perfect cool loneliness so lovely and fresh and
unexplored Really what a mistake he had made thinking he wanted people
thinking he wanted a woman He did not want a woman not in the least The
leaves and the primroses and the trees they were really lovely and cool and
desirable they really came into the blood and were added on to him He was
enrichened now immeasurably and so glad
It was quite right of Hermione to want to kill him What had he to do with
her Why should he pretend to have anything to do with human beings at all Here
was his world he wanted nobody and nothing but the lovely subtle responsive
vegetation and himself his own living self.
It was necessary to go back into the world That was true But that did not
matter so one knew where one belonged He knew now where he belonged This was
his place his marriage place The world was extraneous
He climbed out of the valley wondering if he were mad But if so he
preferred his own madness to the regular sanity He rejoiced in his own
madness he was free He did not want that old sanity of the world which was
become so repulsive He rejoiced in the newfound world of his madness It was
so fresh and delicate and so satisfying
As for the certain grief he felt at the same time in his soul that was
only the remains of an old ethic that bade a human being adhere to humanity
But he was weary of the old ethic of the human being and of humanity He loved
now the soft delicate vegetation that was so cool and perfect He would
overlook the old grief he would put away the old ethic he would be free in his
new state
He was aware of the pain in his head becoming more and more difficult every
minute He was walking now along the road to the nearest station It was raining
and he had no hat But then plenty of cranks went out nowadays without hats in
the rain
He wondered again how much of his heaviness of heart a certain depression
was due to fear fear lest anybody should have seen him naked lying against the
vegetation What a dread he had of mankind of other people It amounted almost
to horror to a sort of dream terror his horror of being observed by some
other people If he were on an island like Alexander Selkirk with only the
creatures and the trees he would be free and glad there would be none of this
heaviness this misgiving He could love the vegetation and be quite happy and
unquestioned by himself
He had better send a note to Hermione she might trouble about him and he
did not want the onus of this So at the station he wrote saying
»I will go on to town I dont want to come back to Breadalby for the
present But it is quite all right I dont want you to mind having
biffed me in the least Tell the others it is just one of my moods You
were quite right to biff me because I know you wanted to So theres
the end of it«
In the train however he felt ill Every motion was insufferable pain and he
was sick He dragged himself from the station into a cab feeling his way step
by step like a blind man and held up only by a dim will
For a week or two he was ill but he did not let Hermione know and she
thought he was sulking there was a complete estrangement between them She
became rapt abstracted in her conviction of exclusive righteousness She lived
in and by her own selfesteem conviction of her own rightness of spirit
Chapter IX
CoalDust
Going home from school in the afternoon the Brangwen girls descended the hill
between the picturesque cottages of Willey Green till they came to the railway
crossing There they found the gate shut because the colliery train was
rumbling nearer They could hear the small locomotive panting hoarsely as it
advanced with caution between the embankments The onelegged man in the little
signalhut by the road stared out from his security like a crab from a
snailshell
Whilst the two girls waited Gerald Crich trotted up on a red Arab mare He
rode well and softly pleased with the delicate quivering of the creature
between his knees And he was very picturesque at least in Gudruns eyes
sitting soft and close on the slender red mare whose long tail flowed on the
air He saluted the two girls and drew up at the crossing to wait for the gate
looking down the railway for the approaching train In spite of her ironic smile
at his picturesqueness Gudrun liked to look at him He was well set and easy
his face with its warm tan showed up his whitish coarse moustache and his blue
eyes were full of sharp light as he watched the distance
The locomotive chuffed slowly between the banks hidden The mare did not
like it She began to wince away as if hurt by the unknown noise But Gerald
pulled her back and held her head to the gate The sharp blasts of the chuffing
engine broke with more and more force on her The repeated sharp blows of
unknown terrifying noise struck through her till she was rocking with terror
She recoiled like a spring let go But a glistening halfsmiling look came into
Geralds face He brought her back again inevitably
The noise was released the little locomotive with her clanking steel
connectingrod emerged on the highroad clanking sharply The mare rebounded
like a drop of water from hot iron Ursula and Gudrun pressed back into the
hedge in fear But Gerald was heavy on the mare and forced her back It seemed
as if he sank into her magnetically and could thrust her back against herself
»The fool« cried Ursula loudly »Why doesnt he ride away till its gone
by«
Gudrun was looking at him with blackdilated spellbound eyes But he sat
glistening and obstinate forcing the wheeling mare which spun and swerved like
a wind and yet could not get out of the grasp of his will nor escape from the
mad clamour of terror that resounded through her as the trucks thumped slowly
heavily horrifying one after the other one pursuing the other over the rails
of the crossing
The locomotive as if wanting to see what could be done put on the brakes
and back came the trucks rebounding on the iron buffers striking like horrible
cymbals clashing nearer and nearer in frightful strident concussions The mare
opened her mouth and rose slowly as if lifted up on a wind of terror Then
suddenly her forefeet struck out as she convulsed herself utterly away from
the horror Back she went and the two girls clung to each other feeling she
must fall backwards on top of him But he leaned forward his face shining with
fixed amusement and at last he brought her down sank her down and was bearing
her back to the mark But as strong as the pressure of his compulsion was the
repulsion of her utter terror throwing her back away from the railway so that
she spun round and round on two legs as if she were in the centre of some
whirlwind It made Gudrun faint with poignant dizziness which seemed to
penetrate to her heart
»No No Let her go Let her go you fool you fool « cried Ursula at
the top of her voice completely outside herself And Gudrun hated her bitterly
for being outside herself It was unendurable that Ursulas voice was so
powerful and naked
A sharpened look came on Geralds face He bit himself down on the mare like
a keen edge biting home and forced her round She roared as she breathed her
nostrils were two wide hot holes her mouth was apart her eyes frenzied It
was a repulsive sight But he held on her unrelaxed with an almost mechanical
relentlessness keen as a sword pressing into her Both man and horse were
sweating with violence Yet he seemed calm as a ray of cold sunshine
Meanwhile the eternal trucks were rumbling on very slowly treading one
after the other one after the other like a disgusting dream that has no end
The connecting chains were grinding and squeaking as the tension varied the
mare pawed and struck away mechanically now her terror fulfilled in her for
now the man encompassed her her paws were blind and pathetic as she beat the
air the man closed round her and brought her down almost as if she were part
of his own physique
»And shes bleeding Shes bleeding« cried Ursula frantic with opposition
and hatred of Gerald She alone understood him perfectly in pure opposition
Gudrun looked and saw the trickles of blood on the sides of the mare and
she turned white And then on the very wound the bright spurs came down
pressing relentlessly The world reeled and passed into nothingness for Gudrun
she could not know any more
When she recovered her soul was calm and cold without feeling The trucks
were still rumbling by and the man and the mare were still fighting But she
herself was cold and separate she had no more feeling for them She was quite
hard and cold and indifferent
They could see the top of the hooded guardsvan approaching the sound of
the trucks was diminishing there was hope of relief from the intolerable noise
The heavy panting of the halfstunned mare sounded automatically the man seemed
to be relaxing confidently his will bright and unstained The guardsvan came
up and passed slowly the guard staring out in his transition on the spectacle
in the road And through the man in the closed wagon Gudrun could see the whole
scene spectacularly isolated and momentary like a vision isolated in eternity
Lovely grateful silence seemed to trail behind the receding train How
sweet the silence is Ursula looked with hatred on the buffers of the
diminishing wagon The gatekeeper stood ready at the door of his hut to
proceed to open the gate But Gudrun sprang suddenly forward in front of the
struggling horse threw off the latch and flung the gates asunder throwing
onehalf to the keeper and running with the other half forwards Gerald
suddenly let go the horse and leaped forwards almost on to Gudrun She was not
afraid As he jerked aside the mares head Gudrun cried in a strange high
voice like a gull or like a witch screaming out from the side of the road
»I should think youre proud«
The words were distinct and formed The man twisting aside on his dancing
horse looked at her in some surprise some wondering interest Then the mares
hoofs had danced three times on the drumlike sleepers of the crossing and man
and horse were bounding springily unequally up the road
The two girls watched them go The gatekeeper hobbled thudding over the
logs of the crossing with his wooden leg He had fastened the gate Then he
also turned and called to the girls
»A masterful young jockey thatll have his own road if ever anybody
would«
»Yes« cried Ursula in her hot overbearing voice »Why couldnt he take
the horse away till the trucks had gone by Hes a fool and a bully Does he
think its manly to torture a horse Its a living thing why should he bully
it and torture it«
There was a pause then the gatekeeper shook his head and replied
»Yes its as nice a little mare as you could set eyes on beautiful little
thing beautiful Now you couldnt see his father treat any animal like that
not you Theyre as different as they welly can be Gerald Crich and his father
two different men different made«
Then there was a pause
»But why does he do it« cried Ursula »why does he Does he think hes
grand when hes bullied a sensitive creature ten times as sensitive as
himself«
Again there was a cautious pause Then again the man shook his head as if
he would say nothing but would think the more
»I expect hes got to train the mare to stand to anything« he replied »A
purebred Harab not the sort of breed as is used to round here different
sort from our sort altogether They say as he got her from Constantinople«
»He would« said Ursula »Hed better have left her to the Turks Im sure
they would have had more decency towards her«
The man went in to drink his can of tea the girls went on down the lane
that was deep in soft black dust Gudrun was as if numbed in her mind by the
sense of indomitable soft weight of the man bearing down into the living body
of the horse the strong indomitable thighs of the blond man clenching the
palpitating body of the mare into pure control a sort of soft white magnetic
domination from the loins and thighs and calves enclosing and encompassing the
mare heavily into unutterable subordination softbloodsubordination terrible
On the left as the girls walked silently the coalmine lifted its great
mounds and its patterned headstocks the black railway with the trucks at rest
looked like a harbour just below a large bay of railroad with anchored wagons
Near the second levelcrossing that went over many bright rails was a farm
belonging to the collieries and a great round globe of iron a disused boiler
huge and rusty and perfectly round stood silently in a paddock by the road The
hens were pecking round it some chickens were balanced on the drinking trough
wagtails flew away in among trucks from the water
On the other side of the wide crossing by the roadside was a heap of
palegrey stones for mending the roads and a cart standing and a middleaged
man with whiskers round his face was leaning on his shovel talking to a young
man in gaiters who stood by the horses head Both men were facing the
crossing
They saw the two girls appear small brilliant figures in the near
distance in the strong light of the late afternoon Both wore light gay summer
dresses Ursula had an orangecoloured knitted coat Gudrun a pale yellow
Ursula wore canary yellow stockings Gudrun bright rose The figures of the two
women seemed to glitter in progress over the wide bay of the railway crossing
white and orange and yellow and rose glittering in motion across a hot world
silted with coaldust
The two men stood quite still in the heat watching The elder was a short
hardfaced energetic man of middle age the younger a labourer of twentythree
or so They stood in silence watching the advance of the sisters They watched
whilst the girls drew near and whilst they passed and whilst they receded down
the dusty road that had dwellings on one side and dusty young corn on the
other
Then the elder man with the whiskers round his face said in a prurient
manner to the young man
»What price that eh Shell do wont she«
»Which« asked the young man eagerly with a laugh
»Her with the red stockings What d you say Id give my weeks wages for
five minutes what just for five minutes«
Again the young man laughed
»Your missis ud have summat to say to you« he replied
Gudrun had turned round and looked at the two men They were to her sinister
creatures standing watching after her by the heap of pale grey slag She
loathed the man with whiskers round his face
»Youre first class you are« the man said to her and to the distance
»Do you think it would be worth a weeks wages« said the younger man
musing
»Do I Id put em bloodywell down this second «
The younger man looked after Gudrun and Ursula objectively as if he wished
to calculate what there might be that was worth his weeks wages He shook his
head with fatal misgiving
»No« he said »Its not worth that to me«
»Isnt« said the old man »By God if it isnt to me«
And he went on shovelling his stones
The girls descended between the houses with slate roofs and blackish brick
walls The heavy gold glamour of approaching sunset lay over all the colliery
district and the ugliness overlaid with beauty was like a narcotic to the
senses. On the roads silted with black dust the rich light fell more warmly
more heavily over all the amorphous squalor a kind of magic was cast from the
glowing close of day
»It has a foul kind of beauty this place« said Gudrun evidently suffering
from fascination »Cant you feel in some way a thick hot attraction in it I
can And it quite stupefies me«
They were passing between blocks of miners dwellings In the back yards of
several dwellings a miner could be seen washing himself in the open on this hot
evening naked down to the loins his great trousers of moleskin slipping almost
away Miners already cleaned were sitting on their heels with their backs near
the walls talking and silent in pure physical wellbeing tired and taking
physical rest Their voices sounded out with strong intonation and the broad
dialect was curiously caressing to the blood It seemed to envelop Gudrun in a
labourers caress there was in the whole atmosphere a resonance of physical
men a glamorous thickness of labour and maleness surcharged in the air But it
was universal in the district and therefore unnoticed by the inhabitants
To Gudrun however it was potent and halfrepulsive She could never tell
why Beldover was so utterly different from London and the south why ones whole
feelings were different why one seemed to live in another sphere Now she
realised that this was the world of powerful underworld men who spent most of
their time in the darkness In their voices she could hear the voluptuous
resonance of darkness the strong dangerous underworld mindless inhuman They
sounded also like strange machines heavy oiled The voluptuousness was like
that of machinery cold and iron
It was the same every evening when she came home she seemed to move through
a wave of disruptive force that was given off from the presence of thousands of
vigorous underworld halfautomatised colliers and which went to the brain and
the heart awaking a fatal desire and a fatal callousness
There came over her a nostalgia for the place She hated it she knew how
utterly cut off it was how hideous and how sickeningly mindless Sometimes she
beat her wings like a new Daphne turning not into a tree but a machine And yet
she was overcome by the nostalgia She struggled to get more and more into
accord with the atmosphere of the place she craved to get her satisfaction of
it
She felt herself drawn out at evening into the main street of the town that
was uncreated and ugly and yet surcharged with this same potent atmosphere of
intense dark callousness There were always miners about They moved with their
strange distorted dignity a certain beauty and unnatural stillness in their
bearing a look of abstraction and half resignation in their pale often gaunt
faces They belonged to another world they had a strange glamour their voices
were full of an intolerable deep resonance like a machines burring a music
more maddening than the sirens long ago
She found herself with the rest of the common women drawn out on Friday
evenings to the little market Friday was payday for the colliers and Friday
night was market night Every woman was abroad every man was out shopping with
his wife or gathering with his pals The pavements were dark for miles around
with people coming in the little marketplace on the crown of the hill and the
main street of Beldover were black with thicklycrowded men and women
It was dark the marketplace was hot with kerosene flares which threw a
ruddy light on the grave faces of the purchasing wives and on the pale abstract
faces of the men The air was full of the sound of criers and of people talking
thick streams of people moved on the pavements towards the solid crowd of the
market The shops were blazing and packed with women in the streets were men
mostly men miners of all ages Money was spent with almost lavish freedom
The carts that came could not pass through They had to wait the driver
calling and shouting till the dense crowd would make way Everywhere young
fellows from the outlying districts were making conversation with the girls
standing in the road and at the corners The doors of the publichouses were
open and full of light men passed in and out in a continual stream everywhere
men were calling out to one another, or crossing to meet one another, or
standing in little gangs and circles discussing endlessly discussing The
sense of talk buzzing jarring halfsecret the endless mining and political
wrangling vibrated in the air like discordant machinery And it was their
voices which affected Gudrun almost to swooning They aroused a strange
nostalgic ache of desire something almost demoniacal never to be fulfilled
Like any other common girl of the district Gudrun strolled up and down up
and down the length of the brilliant twohundred paces of the pavement nearest
the marketplace She knew it was a vulgar thing to do her father and mother
could not bear it but the nostalgia came over her she must be among the
people Sometimes she sat among the louts in the cinema rakishlooking
unattractive louts they were Yet she must be among them
And like any other common lass she found her boy It was an electrician
one of the electricians introduced according to Geralds new scheme He was an
earnest clever man a scientist with a passion for sociology He lived alone in
a cottage in lodgings in Willey Green He was a gentleman and sufficiently
welltodo His landlady spread the reports about him he would have a large
wooden tub in his bedroom and every time he came in from work he would have
pails and pails of water brought up to bathe in then he put on clean shirt and
underclothing every day and clean silk socks fastidious and exacting he was
in these respects but in every other way most ordinary and unassuming
Gudrun knew all these things The Brangwens house was one to which the
gossip came naturally and inevitably Palmer was in the first place a friend of
Ursulas But in his pale elegant serious face there showed the same nostalgia
that Gudrun felt He too must walk up and down the street on Friday evening So
he walked with Gudrun and a friendship was struck up between them But he was
not in love with Gudrun he really wanted Ursula but for some strange reason
nothing could happen between her and him He liked to have Gudrun about as a
fellowmind but that was all And she had no real feeling for him He was a
scientist he had to have a woman to back him But he was really impersonal he
had the fineness of an elegant piece of machinery He was too cold too
destructive to care really for women too great an egoist He was polarised by
the men Individually he detested and despised them In the mass they fascinated
him as machinery fascinated him They were a new sort of machinery to him but
incalculable incalculable
So Gudrun strolled the streets with Palmer or went to the cinema with him
And his long pale rather elegant face flickered as he made his sarcastic
remarks There they were the two of them two elegants in one sense in the
other sense two units absolutely adhering to the people teeming with the
distorted colliers The same secret seemed to be working in the souls of all
alike Gudrun Palmer the rakish young bloods the gaunt middleaged men All
had a secret sense of power and of inexpressible destructiveness and of fatal
halfheartedness a sort of rottenness in the will
Sometimes Gudrun would start aside see it all see how she was sinking in
And then she was filled with a fury of contempt and anger She felt she was
sinking into one mass with the rest all so close and intermingled and
breathless It was horrible She stifled She prepared for flight feverishly
she flew to her work But soon she let go She started off into the country
the darkish glamorous country The spell was beginning to work again
Chapter X
SketchBook
One morning the sisters were sketching by the side of Willey Water at the
remote end of the lake Gudrun had waded out to a gravelly shoal and was seated
like a Buddhist staring fixedly at the waterplants that rose succulent from
the mud of the low shores What she could see was mud soft oozy watery mud
and from its festering chill waterplants rose up thick and cool and fleshy
very straight and turgid thrusting out their leaves at right angles and having
dark lurid colours dark green and blotches of blackpurple and bronze But she
could feel their turgid fleshy structure as in a sensuous vision she knew how
they rose out of the mud she knew how they thrust out from themselves how they
stood stiff and succulent against the air
Ursula was watching the butterflies of which there were dozens near the
water little blue ones suddenly snapping out of nothingness into a jewellife
a large blackandred one standing upon a flower and breathing with his soft
wings intoxicatingly breathing pure ethereal sunshine two white ones
wrestling in the low air there was a halo round them ah when they came
tumbling nearer they were orangetips and it was the orange that had made the
halo Ursula rose and drifted away unconscious like the butterflies
Gudrun absorbed in a stupor of apprehension of surging waterplants sat
crouched on the shoal drawing not looking up for a long time and then staring
unconsciously absorbedly at the rigid naked succulent stems Her feet were
bare her hat lay on the bank opposite
She started out of her trance hearing the knocking of oars She looked
round There was a boat with a gaudy Japanese parasol and a man in white
rowing The woman was Hermione and the man was Gerald She knew it instantly
And instantly she perished in the keen frisson of anticipation an electric
vibration in her veins intense much more intense than that which was always
humming low in the atmosphere of Beldover
Gerald was her escape from the heavy slough of the pale underworld
automatic colliers He started out of the mud He was master She saw his back
the movement of his white loins But not that it was the whiteness he seemed
to enclose as he bent forwards rowing He seemed to stoop to something His
glistening whitish hair seemed like the electricity of the sky
»Theres Gudrun« came Hermiones voice floating distinct over the water
»We will go and speak to her Do you mind«
Gerald looked round and saw the girl standing by the waters edge looking
at him He pulled the boat towards her magnetically without thinking of her
In his world his conscious world she was still nobody He knew that Hermione
had a curious pleasure in treading down all the social differences at least
apparently and he left it to her
»How do you do Gudrun« sang Hermione using the Christian name in the
fashionable manner »What are you doing«
»How do you do Hermione I was sketching«
»Were you« The boat drifted nearer till the keel ground on the bank »May
we see I should like to so much«
It was no use resisting Hermiones deliberate intention
»Well « said Gudrun reluctantly for she always hated to have her
unfinished work exposed »theres nothing in the least interesting«
»Isnt there But let me see will you«
Gudrun reached out the sketchbook Gerald stretched from the boat to take
it And as he did so he remembered Gudruns last words to him and her face
lifted up to him as he sat on the swerving horse An intensification of pride
went over his nerves because he felt in some way she was compelled by him The
exchange of feeling between them was strong and apart from their consciousness.
And as if in a spell Gudrun was aware of his body stretching and surging
like the marshfire stretching towards her his hand coming straight forward
like a stem Her voluptuous acute apprehension of him made the blood faint in
her veins her mind went dim and unconscious And he rocked on the water
perfectly like the rocking of phosphorescence He looked round at the boat It
was drifting off a little He lifted the oar to bring it back And the exquisite
pleasure of slowly arresting the boat in the heavysoft water was complete as
a swoon
»Thats what you have done« said Hermione looking searchingly at the
plants on the shore and comparing with Gudruns drawing Gudrun looked round in
the direction of Hermiones long pointing finger »That is it isnt it«
repeated Hermione needing confirmation
»Yes« said Gudrun automatically taking no real heed
»Let me look« said Gerald reaching forward for the book But Hermione
ignored him he must not presume before she had finished But he his will as
unthwarted and as unflinching as hers stretched forward till he touched the
book A little shock a storm of revulsion against him shook Hermione
unconsciously She released the book when he had not properly got it and it
tumbled against the side of the boat and bounced into the water
»There« sang Hermione with a strange ring of malevolent victory »Im so
sorry so awfully sorry Cant you get it Gerald«
This last was said in a note of anxious sneering that made Geralds veins
tingle with fine hate for her He leaned far out of the boat reaching down into
the water He could feel his position was ridiculous his loins exposed behind
him
»It is of no importance« came the strong clanging voice of Gudrun She
seemed to touch him But he reached further the boat swayed violently
Hermione however remained unperturbed He grasped the book under the water
and brought it up dripping
»Im so dreadfully sorry dreadfully sorry« repeated Hermione »Im afraid
it was all my fault«
»Its of no importance really I assure you it doesnt matter in the
least« said Gudrun loudly with emphasis her face flushed scarlet And she
held out her hand impatiently for the wet book to have done with the scene
Gerald gave it to her He was not quite himself
»Im so dreadfully sorry« repeated Hermione till both Gerald and Gudrun
were exasperated »Is there nothing that can be done«
»In what way« asked Gudrun with cool irony
»Cant we save the drawings«
There was a moments pause wherein Gudrun made evident all her refutation
of Hermiones persistence
»I assure you« said Gudrun with cutting distinctness »the drawings are
quite as good as ever they were for my purpose I want them only for
reference«
»But cant I give you a new book I wish youd let me do that I feel so
truly sorry I feel it was all my fault«
»As far as I saw« said Gudrun »it wasnt your fault at all If there was
any fault it was Mr Crichs But the whole thing is entirely trivial and it
really is ridiculous to take any notice of it«
Gerald watched Gudrun closely whilst she repulsed Hermione There was a
body of cold power in her He watched her with an insight that amounted to
clairvoyance He saw her a dangerous hostile spirit that could stand
undiminished and unabated It was so finished and of such perfect gesture
moreover
»Im awfully glad if it doesnt matter« he said »if theres no real harm
done«
She looked back at him with her fine blue eyes and signalled full into his
spirit as she said her voice ringing with intimacy almost caressive now it was
addressed to him
»Of course it doesnt matter in the least«
The bond was established between them in that look in her tone In her
tone she made the understanding clear they were of the same kind he and she
a sort of diabolic freemasonry subsisted between them Henceforward she knew
she had her power over him Wherever they met they would be secretly
associated And he would be helpless in the association with her Her soul
exulted
»Goodbye Im so glad you forgive me Goooodbye«
Hermione sang her farewell and waved her hand Gerald automatically took
the oar and pushed off But he was looking all the time with a glimmering
subtlysmiling admiration in his eyes at Gudrun who stood on the shoal shaking
the wet book in her hand She turned away and ignored the receding boat But
Gerald looked back as he rowed beholding her forgetting what he was doing
»Arent we going too much to the left« sang Hermione as she sat ignored
under her coloured parasol
Gerald looked round without replying the oars balanced and glancing in the
sun
»I think its all right« he said goodhumouredly beginning to row again
without thinking of what he was doing And Hermione disliked him extremely for
his goodhumoured obliviousness she was nullified she could not regain
ascendancy
Chapter XI
An Island
Meanwhile Ursula had wandered on from Willey Water along the course of the
bright little stream The afternoon was full of larks singing On the bright
hillsides was a subdued smoulder of gorse A few forgetmenots flowered by the
water There was a rousedness and a glancing everywhere
She strayed absorbedly on over the brooks She wanted to go to the
millpond above The big millhouse was deserted save for a labourer and his
wife who lived in the kitchen So she passed through the empty farmyard and
through the wilderness of a garden and mounted the bank by the sluice When she
got to the top to see the old velvety surface of the pond before her she
noticed a man on the bank tinkering with a punt It was Birkin sawing and
hammering away
She stood at the head of the sluice looking at him He was unaware of
anybodys presence He looked very busy like a wild animal active and intent
She felt she ought to go away he would not want her He seemed to be so much
occupied But she did not want to go away Therefore she moved along the bank
till he would look up
Which he soon did The moment he saw her he dropped his tools and came
forward saying
»How do you do Im making the punt watertight Tell me if you think it is
right«
She went along with him
»You are your fathers daughter so you can tell me if it will do« he said
She bent to look at the patched punt
»I am sure I am my fathers daughter« she said fearful of having to judge
»But I dont know anything about carpentry It looks right dont you think«
»Yes I think I hope it wont let me to the bottom thats all Though even
so it isnt a great matter I should come up again Help me to get it into the
water will you«
With combined efforts they turned over the heavy punt and set it afloat
»Now« he said »Ill try it and you can watch what happens Then if it
carries Ill take you over to the island«
»Do« she cried watching anxiously
The pond was large and had that perfect stillness and the dark lustre of
very deep water There were two small islands overgrown with bushes and a few
trees towards the middle Birkin pushed himself off and veered clumsily in the
pond Luckily the punt drifted so that he could catch hold of a willow bough
and pull it to the island
»Rather overgrown« he said looking into the interior »but very nice Ill
come and fetch you The boat leaks a little«
In a moment he was with her again and she stepped into the wet punt
»Itll float us all right« he said and manoeuvred again to the island
They landed under a willow tree She shrank from the little jungle of rank
plants before her evilsmelling figwort and hemlock But he explored into it
»I shall mow this down« he said »and then it will be romantic like Paul
et Virginie«
»Yes one could have lovely Watteau picnics here« cried Ursula with
enthusiasm
His face darkened
»I dont want Watteau picnics here« he said
»Only your Virginie« she laughed
»Virginie enough« he smiled wryly »No I dont want her either«
Ursula looked at him closely She had not seen him since Breadalby He was
very thin and hollow with a ghastly look in his face
»You have been ill havent you« she asked rather repulsed
»Yes« he replied coldly
They had sat down under the willow tree and were looking at the pond from
their retreat on the island
»Has it made you frightened« she asked
»What of« he asked turning his eyes to look at her Something in him
inhuman and unmitigated disturbed her and shook her out of her ordinary self
»It is frightening to be very ill isnt it« she said
»It isnt pleasant« he said »Whether one is really afraid of death or not
I have never decided In one mood not a bit in another very much«
»But doesnt it make you feel ashamed I think it makes one so ashamed to
be ill illness is so terribly humiliating dont you think«
He considered for some minutes
»Maybe« he said »Though one knows all the time ones life isnt really
right at the source Thats the humiliation I dont see that the illness
counts so much after that One is ill because one doesnt live properly
cant Its the failure to live that makes one ill and humiliates one«
»But do you fail to live« she asked almost jeering
»Why yes I dont make much of a success of my days One seems always to
be bumping ones nose against the blank wall ahead«
Ursula laughed She was frightened and when she was frightened she always
laughed and pretended to be jaunty
»Your poor nose« she said looking at that feature of his face
»No wonder its ugly« he replied
She was silent for some minutes struggling with her own selfdeception It
was an instinct in her to deceive herself
»But Im happy I think life is awfully jolly« she said
»Good« he answered with a certain cold indifference
She reached for a bit of paper which had wrapped a small piece of chocolate
she had found in her pocket and began making a boat He watched her without
heeding her There was something strangely pathetic and tender in her moving
unconscious fingertips that were agitated and hurt really
»I do enjoy things dont you« she asked
»Oh yes But it infuriates me that I cant get right at the really growing
part of me I feel all tangled and messed up and I cant get straight anyhow I
dont know what really to do One must do something somewhere«
»Why should you always be doing« she retorted »It is so plebeian I think
it is much better to be really patrician and to do nothing but just be oneself
like a walking flower«
»I quite agree« he said »if one has burst into blossom But I cant get my
flower to blossom anyhow Either it is blighted in the bud or has got the
smotherfly or it isnt nourished Curse it it isnt even a bud It is a
contravened knot«
Again she laughed He was so very fretful and exasperated But she was
anxious and puzzled How was one to get out anyhow There must be a way out
somewhere
There was a silence wherein she wanted to cry She reached for another bit
of chocolate paper and began to fold another boat
»And why is it« she asked at length »that there is no flowering no
dignity of human life now«
»The whole idea is dead Humanity itself is dryrotten really There are
myriads of human beings hanging on the bush and they look very nice and rosy
your healthy young men and women But they are apples of Sodom as a matter of
fact, Dead Sea Fruit gallapples It isnt true that they have any significance
their insides are full of bitter corrupt ash«
»But there are good people« protested Ursula
»Good enough for the life of today But mankind is a dead tree covered
with fine brilliant galls of people«
Ursula could not help stiffening herself against this it was too
picturesque and final But neither could she help making him go on
»And if it is so why is it« she asked hostile They were rousing each
other to a fine passion of opposition
»Why why are people all balls of bitter dust Because they wont fall off
the tree when theyre ripe They hang on to their old positions when the
position is overpast till they become infested with little worms and dryrot«
There was a long pause His voice had become hot and very sarcastic Ursula
was troubled and bewildered they were both oblivious of everything but their
own immersion
»But even if everybody is wrong where are you right« she cried »where
are you any better«
»I Im not right« he cried back »At least my only rightness lies in the
fact that I know it I detest what I am outwardly I loathe myself as a human
being Humanity is a huge aggregate lie and a huge lie is less than a small
truth Humanity is less far less than the individual, because the individual
may sometimes be capable of truth and humanity is a tree of lies And they say
that love is the greatest thing they persist in saying this the foul liars
and just look at what they do Look at all the millions of people who repeat
every minute that love is the greatest and charity is the greatest and see
what they are doing all the time By their works ye shall know them for dirty
liars and cowards who darent stand by their own actions much less by their
own words«
»But« said Ursula sadly »that doesnt alter the fact that love is the
greatest does it What they do doesnt alter the truth of what they say does
it«
»Completely because if what they say were true then they couldnt help
fulfilling it But they maintain a lie and so they run amok at last Its a lie
to say that love is the greatest You might as well say that hate is the
greatest since the opposite of everything balances What people want is hate
hate and nothing but hate And in the name of righteousness and love they get
it They distil themselves with nitroglycerine all the lot of them out of very
love Its the lie that kills If we want hate let us have it death murder
torture violent destruction let us have it but not in the name of love But
I abhor humanity I wish it was swept away It could go and there would be no
absolute loss if every human being perished tomorrow The reality would be
untouched Nay it would be better The real tree of life would then be rid of
the most ghastly heavy crop of Dead Sea Fruit the intolerable burden of myriad
simulacra of people an infinite weight of mortal lies«
»So youd like everybody in the world destroyed« said Ursula
»I should indeed«
»And the world empty of people«
»Yes truly You yourself dont you find it a beautiful clean thought a
world empty of people just uninterrupted grass and a hare sitting up«
The pleasant sincerity of his voice made Ursula pause to consider her own
proposition And really it was attractive a clean lovely humanless world It
was the really desirable Her heart hesitated and exulted But still she was
dissatisfied with him
»But« she objected »youd be dead yourself so what good would it do you«
»I would die like a shot to know that the earth would really be cleaned of
all the people It is the most beautiful and freeing thought Then there would
never be another foul humanity created for a universal defilement«
»No« said Ursula »there would be nothing«
»What Nothing Just because humanity was wiped out You flatter yourself
Thered be everything«
»But how if there were no people«
»Do you think that creation depends on man It merely doesnt There are the
trees and the grass and birds I much prefer to think of the lark rising up in
the morning upon a humanless world Man is a mistake he must go There is the
grass and hares and adders and the unseen hosts actual angels that go about
freely when a dirty humanity doesnt interrupt them and good puretissued
demons very nice«
It pleased Ursula what he said pleased her very much as a phantasy Of
course it was only a pleasant fancy She herself knew too well the actuality of
humanity its hideous actuality She knew it could not disappear so cleanly and
conveniently It had a long way to go yet a long and hideous way Her subtle
feminine demoniacal soul knew it well
»If only man was swept off the face of the earth creation would go on so
marvellously with a new start nonhuman Man is one of the mistakes of
creation like the ichthyosauri If only he were gone again think what lovely
things would come out of the liberated days things straight out of the fire«
»But man will never be gone« she said with insidious diabolical knowledge
of the horrors of persistence »The world will go with him«
»Ah no« he answered »not so I believe in the proud angels and the demons
that are our forerunners They will destroy us because we are not proud
enough The ichthyosauri were not proud they crawled and floundered as we do
And besides look at elderflowers and bluebells they are a sign that pure
creation takes place even the butterfly But humanity never gets beyond the
caterpillar stage it rots in the chrysalis it never will have wings It is
anticreation like monkeys and baboons«
Ursula watched him as he talked There seemed a certain impatient fury in
him all the while and at the same time a great amusement in everything and a
final tolerance And it was this tolerance she mistrusted not the fury She saw
that all the while in spite of himself he would have to be trying to save the
world And this knowledge whilst it comforted her heart somewhere with a little
selfsatisfaction stability yet filled her with a certain sharp contempt and
hate of him She wanted him to herself she hated the Salvator Mundi touch It
was something diffuse and generalised about him which she could not stand He
would behave in the same way say the same things give himself as completely to
anybody who came along anybody and everybody who liked to appeal to him It was
despicable a very insidious form of prostitution
»But« she said »you believe in individual love even if you dont believe
in loving humanity «
»I dont believe in love at all that is any more than I believe in hate
or in grief Love is one of the emotions like all the others and so it is all
right whilst you feel it But I cant see how it becomes an absolute It is just
part of human relationships no more And it is only part of any human
relationship And why one should be required always to feel it any more than
one always feels sorrow or distant joy I cannot conceive Love isnt a
desideratum it is an emotion you feel or you dont feel according to
circumstance«
»Then why do you care about people at all« she asked »if you dont believe
in love Why do you bother about humanity«
»Why do I Because I cant get away from it«
»Because you love it« she persisted
It irritated him
»If I do love it« he said »it is my disease«
»But it is a disease you dont want to be cured of« she said with some
cold sneering
He was silent now feeling she wanted to insult him
»And if you dont believe in love what do you believe in« she asked
mocking »Simply in the end of the world and grass«
He was beginning to feel a fool
»I believe in the unseen hosts« he said
»And nothing else You believe in nothing visible except grass and birds
Your world is a poor show«
»Perhaps it is« he said cool and superior now he was offended assuming a
certain insufferable aloof superiority and withdrawing into his distance
Ursula disliked him But also she felt she had lost something She looked at
him as he sat crouched on the bank There was a certain priggish Sundayschool
stiffness over him priggish and detestable And yet at the same time the
moulding of him was so quick and attractive it gave such a great sense of
freedom the moulding of his brows his chin his whole physique something so
alive somewhere in spite of the look of sickness
And it was this duality in feeling which he created in her that made a fine
hate of him quicken in her bowels There was his wonderful desirable
liferapidity the rare quality of an utterly desirable man and there was at
the same time this ridiculous mean effacement into a Salvator Mundi and a
Sundayschool teacher a prig of the stiffest type
He looked up at her He saw her face strangely enkindled as if suffused
from within by a powerful sweet fire His soul was arrested in wonder She was
enkindled in her own living fire Arrested in wonder and in pure perfect
attraction he moved towards her She sat like a strange queen almost
supernatural in her glowing smiling richness
»The point about love« he said his consciousness quickly adjusting itself
»is that we hate the word because we have vulgarised it It ought to be
prescribed tabooed from utterance for many years till we get a new better
idea«
There was a beam of understanding between them
»But it always means the same thing« she said
»Ah God no let it not mean that any more« he cried »Let the old
meanings go«
»But still it is love« she persisted A strange wicked yellow light shone
at him in her eyes
He hesitated baffled withdrawing
»No« he said »it isnt Spoken like that never in the world Youve no
business to utter the word«
»I must leave it to you to take it out of the Ark of the Covenant at the
right moment« she mocked
Again they looked at each other She suddenly sprang up turned her back to
him and walked away He too rose slowly and went to the waters edge where
crouching he began to amuse himself unconsciously Picking a daisy he dropped
it on the pond so that the stem was a keel the flower floated like a little
waterlily staring with its open face up to the sky It turned slowly round in
a slow slow Dervish dance as it veered away
He watched it then dropped another daisy into the water and after that
another and sat watching them with bright absolved eyes crouching near on the
bank Ursula turned to look A strange feeling possessed her as if something
were taking place But it was all intangible And some sort of control was being
put on her She could not know She could only watch the brilliant little discs
of the daisies veering slowly in travel on the dark lustrous water The little
flotilla was drifting into the light a company of white specks in the distance
»Do let us go to the shore to follow them« she said afraid of being any
longer imprisoned on the island And they pushed off in the punt
She was glad to be on the free land again She went along the bank towards
the sluice The daisies were scattered broadcast on the pond tiny radiant
things like an exaltation points of exaltation here and there Why did they
move her so strongly and mystically
»Look« he said »your boat of purple paper is escorting them and they are
a convoy of rafts«
Some of the daisies came slowly towards her hesitating making a shy bright
little cotillon on the dark clear water Their gay bright candour moved her so
much as they came near that she was almost in tears
»Why are they so lovely« she cried »Why do I think them so lovely«
»They are nice flowers« he said her emotional tones putting a constraint
on him
»You know that a daisy is a company of florets a concourse become
individual Dont the botanists put it highest in the line of development I
believe they do«
»The compositæ yes I think so« said Ursula who was never very sure of
anything Things she knew perfectly well at one moment seemed to become
doubtful the next
»Explain it so then« he said »The daisy is a perfect little democracy so
its the highest of flowers hence its charm«
»No« she cried »no never It isnt democratic«
»No« he admitted »Its the golden mob of the proletariat surrounded by a
showy white fence of the idle rich«
»How hateful your hateful social orders« she cried
»Quite Its a daisy well leave it alone«
»Do Let it be a dark horse for once« she said »if anything can be a dark
horse to you« she added satirically
They stood aside forgetful As if a little stunned they both were
motionless barely conscious The little conflict into which they had fallen had
torn their consciousness and left them like two impersonal forces there in
contact
He became aware of the lapse He wanted to say something to get on to a new
more ordinary footing
»You know« he said »that I am having rooms here at the mill Dont you
think we can have some good times«
»Oh are you« she said ignoring all his implication of admitted intimacy
He adjusted himself at once became normally distant
»If I find I can live sufficiently by myself« he continued »I shall give
up my work altogether It has become dead to me I dont believe in the humanity
I pretend to be part of I dont care a straw for the social ideals I live by I
hate the dying organic form of social mankind so it cant be anything but
trumpery to work at education I shall drop it as soon as I am clear enough
tomorrow perhaps and be by myself«
»Have you enough to live on« asked Ursula
»Yes Ive about four hundred a year That makes it easy for me«
There was a pause
»And what about Hermione« asked Ursula
»Thats over finally a pure failure and never could have been anything
else«
»But you still know each other«
»We could hardly pretend to be strangers could we«
There was a stubborn pause
»But isnt that a halfmeasure« asked Ursula at length
»I dont think so« he said »Youll be able to tell me if it is«
Again there was a pause of some minutes duration He was thinking
»One must throw everything away everything let everything go to get the
one last thing one wants« he said
»What thing« she asked in challenge
»I dont know freedom together« he said
She had wanted him to say love
There was heard a loud barking of the dogs below He seemed disturbed by it
She did not notice Only she thought he seemed uneasy
»As a matter of fact,« he said in rather a small voice »I believe that is
Hermione come now with Gerald Crich She wanted to see the rooms before they
are furnished«
»I know« said Ursula »She will superintend the furnishing for you«
»Probably Does it matter«
»Oh no I should think not« said Ursula »Though personally I cant bear
her I think she is a lie if you like you who are always talking about lies«
Then she ruminated for a moment when she broke out »Yes and I do mind if she
furnishes your rooms I do mind I mind that you keep her hanging on at all«
He was silent now frowning
»Perhaps« he said »I dont want her to furnish the rooms here and I
dont keep her hanging on Only I neednt be churlish to her need I At any
rate I shall have to go down and see them now Youll come wont you«
»I dont think so« she said coldly and irresolutely
»Wont you Yes do Come and see the rooms as well Do come«
Chapter XII
Carpetting
He set off down the bank and she went unwillingly with him Yet she would not
have stayed away either
»We know each other well you and I already« he said She did not answer
In the large darkish kitchen of the mill the labourers wife was talking
shrilly to Hermione and Gerald who stood he in white and she in a glistening
bluish foulard strangely luminous in the dusk of the room whilst from the
cages on the walls a dozen or more canaries sang at the top of their voices
The cages were all placed round a small square window at the back where the
sunshine came in a beautiful beam filtering through green leaves of a tree
The voice of Mrs Salmon shrilled against the noise of the birds which rose
ever more wild and triumphant and the womans voice went up and up against
them and the birds replied with wild animation
»Heres Rupert« shouted Gerald in the midst of the din He was suffering
badly being very sensitive in the ear
»Ooh them birds they wont let you speak « shrilled the labourers wife
in disgust »Ill cover them up«
And she darted here and there throwing a duster an apron a towel a
tablecloth over the cages of the birds
»Now will you stop it and let a body speak for your row« she said still
in a voice that was too high
The party watched her Soon the cages were covered they had a strange
funereal look But from under the towels odd defiant trills and bubblings still
shook out
»Oh they wont go on« said Mrs Salmon reassuringly »Theyll go to sleep
now«
»Really« said Hermione politely
»They will« said Gerald »They will go to sleep automatically now the
impression of evening is produced.«
»Are they so easily deceived« cried Ursula
»Oh yes« replied Gerald »Dont you know the story of Fabre who when he
was a boy put a hens head under her wing and she straight away went to sleep
Its quite true«
»And did that make him a naturalist« asked Birkin
»Probably« said Gerald
Meanwhile Ursula was peeping under one of the cloths There sat the canary
in a corner bunched and fluffed up for sleep
»How ridiculous« she cried »It really thinks the night has come How
absurd Really how can one have any respect for a creature that is so easily
taken in«
»Yes« sang Hermione coming also to look She put her hand on Ursulas arm
and chuckled a low laugh »Yes doesnt he look comical« she chuckled »Like a
stupid husband«
Then with her hand still on Ursulas arm she drew her away saying in her
mild singsong
»How did you come here We saw Gudrun too«
»I came to look at the pond« said Ursula »and I found Mr Birkin there«
»Did you This is quite a Brangwen land isnt it«
»Im afraid I hoped so« said Ursula »I ran here for refuge when I saw you
down the lake just putting off«
»Did you And now weve run you to earth«
Hermiones eyelids lifted with an uncanny movement amused but overwrought
She had always her strange rapt look unnatural and irresponsible
»I was going on« said Ursula »Mr Birkin wanted me to see the rooms Isnt
it delightful to live here It is perfect«
»Yes« said Hermione abstractedly Then she turned right away from Ursula
ceased to know her existence
»How do you feel Rupert« she sang in a new affectionate tone to Birkin
»Very well« he replied
»Were you quite comfortable« The curious sinister rapt look was on
Hermiones face she shrugged her bosom in a convulsed movement and seemed like
one half in a trance
»Quite comfortable« he replied
There was a long pause whilst Hermione looked at him for a long time from
under her heavy drugged eyelids
»And you think youll be happy here« she said at last
»Im sure I shall«
»Im sure I shall do anything for him as I can« said the labourers wife
»And Im sure our mester will so I hope as hell find himself comfortable«
Hermione turned and looked at her slowly
»Thank you so much« she said and then she turned completely away again
She recovered her position and lifting her face towards him and addressing him
exclusively she said
»Have you measured the rooms«
»No« he said »Ive been mending the punt«
»Shall we do it now« she said slowly balanced and dispassionate
»Have you got a tape measure Mrs Salmon« he said turning to the woman
»Yes sir I think I can find one« replied the woman bustling immediately
to a basket »This is the only one Ive got if it will do«
Hermione took it though it was offered to him
»Thank you so much« she said »It will do very nicely Thank you so much«
Then she turned to Birkin saying with a little gay movement »Shall we do it
now Rupert«
»What about the others theyll be bored« he said reluctantly
»Do you mind« said Hermione turning to Ursula and Gerald vaguely
»Not in the least« they replied
»Which room shall we do first« she said turning again to Birkin with the
same gaiety now she was going to do something with him
»Well take them as they come« he said
»Should I be getting your teas ready while you do that« said the
labourers wife »also gay because she had something to do«
»Would you« said Hermione turning to her with the curious motion of
intimacy that seemed to envelop the woman draw her almost to Hermiones breast
and which left the others standing apart »I should be so glad Where shall we
have it«
»Where would you like it Shall it be in here or out on the grass«
»Where shall we have tea« sang Hermione to the company at large
»On the bank by the pond And well carry the things up if youll just get
them ready Mrs Salmon« said Birkin
»All right« said the pleased woman
The party moved down the passage into the front room It was empty but
clean and sunny There was a window looking on to the tangled front garden
»This is the diningroom« said Hermione »Well measure it this way Rupert
you go down there «
»Cant I do it for you« said Gerald coming to take the end of the tape
»No thank you« cried Hermione stooping to the ground in her bluish
brilliant foulard It was a great joy to her to do things and to have the
ordering of the job with Birkin He obeyed her subduedly Ursula and Gerald
looked on It was a peculiarity of Hermiones that at every moment she had one
intimate and turned all the rest of those present into onlookers This raised
her into a state of triumph
They measured and discussed in the diningroom and Hermione decided what
the floor coverings must be It sent her into a strange convulsed anger to be
thwarted Birkin always let her have her way for the moment
Then they moved across through the hall to the other front room that was
a little smaller than the first
»This is the study« said Hermione »Rupert I have a rug that I want you to
have for here Will you let me give it to you Do I want to give it you«
»What is it like« he asked ungraciously
»You havent seen it It is chiefly rose red then blue a metallic
midblue and a very soft dark blue I think you would like it Do you think you
would«
»It sounds very nice« he replied »What is it Oriental With a pile«
»Yes Persian It is made of camels hair silky I think it is called
Bergamos twelve feet by seven Do you think it will do«
»It would do« he said »But why should you give me an expensive rug I can
manage perfectly well with my old Oxford Turkish«
»But may I give it to you Do let me«
»How much did it cost«
She looked at him and said
»I dont remember It was quite cheap«
He looked at her his face set
»I dont want to take it Hermione« he said
»Do let me give it to the rooms« she said going up to him and putting her
hand on his arm lightly pleadingly »I shall be so disappointed«
»You know I dont want you to give me things« he repeated helplessly
»I dont want to give you things« she said teasingly »But will you have
this«
»All right« he said defeated and she triumphed
They went upstairs There were two bedrooms to correspond with the rooms
downstairs One of them was half furnished and Birkin had evidently slept
there Hermione went round the room carefully taking in every detail as if
absorbing the evidence of his presence in all the inanimate things She felt
the bed and examined the coverings
»Are you sure you were quite comfortable« she said pressing the pillow
»Perfectly« he replied coldly
»And were you warm There is no down quilt I am sure you need one You
mustnt have a great pressure of clothes«
»Ive got one« he said »It is coming down«
They measured the rooms and lingered over every consideration Ursula stood
at the window and watched the woman carrying the tea up the bank to the pond
She hated the palaver Hermione made she wanted to drink tea she wanted
anything but this fuss and business
At last they all mounted the grassy bank to the picnic Hermione poured out
tea She ignored now Ursulas presence And Ursula recovering from her
illhumour turned to Gerald saying
»Oh I hated you so much the other day Mr Crich«
»What for« said Gerald wincing slightly away
»For treating your horse so badly Oh I hated you so much«
»What did he do« sang Hermione
»He made his lovely sensitive Arab horse stand with him at the
railwaycrossing whilst a horrible lot of trucks went by and the poor thing
she was in a perfect frenzy a perfect agony It was the most horrible sight you
can imagine«
»Why did you do it Gerald« asked Hermione calm and interrogative
»She must learn to stand what use is she to me in this country if she
shies and goes off every time an engine whistles«
»But why inflict unnecessary torture« said Ursula »Why make her stand all
that time at the crossing You might just as well have ridden back up the road
and saved all that horror Her sides were bleeding where you had spurred her It
was too horrible «
Gerald stiffened
»I have to use her« he replied »And if Im going to be sure of her at all
shell have to learn to stand noises«
»Why should she« cried Ursula in a passion »She is a living creature why
should she stand anything just because you choose to make her She has as much
right to her own being as you have to yours«
»There I disagree« said Gerald »I consider that mare is there for my use
Not because I bought her but because that is the natural order It is more
natural for a man to take a horse and use it as he likes than for him to go
down on his knees to it begging it to do as it wishes and to fulfil its own
marvellous nature«
Ursula was just breaking out when Hermione lifted her face and began in
her musing singsong
»I do think I do really think we must have the courage to use the lower
animal life for our needs I do think there is something wrong when we look on
every living creature as if it were ourselves I do feel that it is false to
project our own feelings on every animate creature It is a lack of
discrimination a lack of criticism«
»Quite« said Birkin sharply »Nothing is so detestable as the maudlin
attributing of human feelings and consciousness to animals«
»Yes« said Hermione wearily »we must really take a position Either we are
going to use the animals or they will use us«
»Thats a fact« said Gerald »A horse has got a will like a man though it
has no mind strictly And if your will isnt master then the horse is master
of you And this is a thing I cant help I cant help being master of the
horse«
»If only we could learn how to use our will« said Hermione »we could do
anything The will can cure anything and put anything right That I am
convinced of if only we use the will properly intelligibly«
»What do you mean by using the will properly« said Birkin
»A very great doctor taught me« she said addressing Ursula and Gerald
vaguely »He told me for instance that to cure oneself of a bad habit one
should force oneself to do it when one would not do it make oneself do it
and then the habit would disappear«
»How do you mean« said Gerald
»If you bite your nails for example. Then when you dont want to bite your
nails bite them make yourself bite them And you would find the habit was
broken«
»Is that so« said Gerald
»Yes And in so many things I have made myself well I was a very queer and
nervous girl And by learning to use my will simply by using my will I made
myself right«
Ursula looked all the while at Hermione as she spoke in her slow
dispassionate and yet strangely tense voice A curious thrill went over the
younger woman Some strange dark convulsive power was in Hermione fascinating
and repelling
»It is fatal to use the will like that« cried Birkin harshly »disgusting
Such a will is an obscenity«
Hermione looked at him for a long time with her shadowed heavy eyes Her
face was soft and pale and thin almost phosphorescent her jaw was lean
»Im sure it isnt« she said at length There always seemed an interval a
strange split between what she seemed to feel and experience, and what she
actually said and thought She seemed to catch her thoughts at length from off
the surface of a maelstrom of chaotic black emotions and reactions and Birkin
was always filled with repulsion she caught so infallibly her will never
failed her Her voice was always dispassionate and tense and perfectly
confident Yet she shuddered with a sense of nausea a sort of seasickness that
always threatened to overwhelm her mind But her mind remained unbroken her
will was still perfect It almost sent Birkin mad But he would never never
dare to break her will and let loose the maelstrom of her subconsciousness and
see her in her ultimate madness Yet he was always striking at her
»And of course« he said to Gerald »horses havent got a complete will
like human beings A horse has no one will Every horse strictly has two
wills With one will it wants to put itself in the human power completely and
with the other it wants to be free wild The two wills sometimes lock you
know that if ever youve felt a horse bolt while youve been driving it«
»I have felt a horse bolt while I was driving it« said Gerald »but it
didnt make me know it had two wills I only knew it was frightened«
Hermione had ceased to listen She simply became oblivious when these
subjects were started
»Why should a horse want to put itself in the human power« asked Ursula
»That is quite incomprehensible to me I dont believe it ever wanted it«
»Yes it did Its the last perhaps highest loveimpulse resign your will
to the higher being« said Birkin
»What curious notions you have of love« jeered Ursula
»And woman is the same as horses two wills act in opposition inside her
With one will she wants to subject herself utterly With the other she wants to
bolt and pitch her rider to perdition«
»Then Im a bolter« said Ursula with a burst of laughter
»Its a dangerous thing to domesticate even horses let alone women« said
Birkin »The dominant principle has some rare antagonists«
»Good thing too« said Ursula
»Quite« said Gerald with a faint smile »Theres more fun«
Hermione could bear no more She rose saying in her easy singsong
»Isnt the evening beautiful I get filled sometimes with such a great sense
of beauty that I feel I can hardly bear it«
Ursula to whom she had appealed rose with her moved to the last
impersonal depths And Birkin seemed to her almost a monster of hateful
arrogance She went with Hermione along the bank of the pond talking of
beautiful soothing things picking the gentle cowslips
»Wouldnt you like a dress« said Ursula to Hermione »of this yellow
spotted with orange a cotton dress«
»Yes« said Hermione stopping and looking at the flower letting the
thought come home to her and soothe her »Wouldnt it be pretty I should love
it«
And she turned smiling to Ursula in a feeling of real affection
But Gerald remained with Birkin wanting to probe him to the bottom to know
what he meant by the dual will in horses A flicker of excitement danced on
Geralds face
Hermione and Ursula strayed on together united in a sudden bond of deep
affection and closeness
»I really do not want to be forced into all this criticism and analysis of
life I really do want to see things in their entirety with their beauty left
to them and their wholeness their natural holiness Dont you feel it dont
you feel you cant be tortured into any more knowledge« said Hermione stopping
in front of Ursula and turning to her with clenched fists thrust downwards
»Yes« said Ursula »I do I am sick of all this poking and prying«
»Im so glad you are Sometimes« said Hermione again stopping arrested in
her progress and turning to Ursula »sometimes I wonder if I ought to submit to
all this realisation if I am not being weak in rejecting it But I feel I cant
I cant It seems to destroy everything All the beauty and the and the true
holiness is destroyed and I feel I cant live without them«
»And it would be simply wrong to live without them« cried Ursula »No it
is so irreverent to think that everything must be realised in the head Really
something must be left to the Lord there always is and always will be«
»Yes« said Hermione reassured like a child »it should shouldnt it And
Rupert « she lifted her face to the sky in a muse »he can only tear things
to pieces He really is like a boy who must pull everything to pieces to see how
it is made And I cant think it is right it does seem so irreverent as you
say«
»Like tearing open a bud to see what the flower will be like« said Ursula
»Yes And that kills everything doesnt it It doesnt allow any
possibility of flowering«
»Of course not« said Ursula »It is purely destructive«
»It is isnt it«
Hermione looked long and slow at Ursula seeming to accept confirmation from
her Then the two women were silent As soon as they were in accord they began
mutually to mistrust each other In spite of herself Ursula felt herself
recoiling from Hermione It was all she could do to restrain her revulsion
They returned to the men like two conspirators who have withdrawn to come
to an agreement Birkin looked up at them Ursula hated him for his cold
watchfulness But he said nothing
»Shall we be going« said Hermione »Rupert you are coming to Shortlands to
dinner Will you come at once will you come now with us«
»Im not dressed« replied Birkin »And you know Gerald stickles for
convention«
»I dont stickle for it« said Gerald »But if youd got as sick as I have
of rowdy goasyouplease in the house youd prefer it if people were peaceful
and conventional at least at meals«
»All right« said Birkin
»But cant we wait for you while you dress« persisted Hermione
»If you like«
He rose to go indoors Ursula said she would take her leave
»Only« she said turning to Gerald »I must say that however man is lord
of the beast and the fowl I still dont think he has any right to violate the
feelings of the inferior creation I still think it would have been much more
sensible and nice of you if youd trotted back up the road while the train went
by and been considerate«
»I see« said Gerald smiling but somewhat annoyed »I must remember
another time«
»They all think Im an interfering female« thought Ursula to herself as
she went away But she was in arms against them
She ran home plunged in thought She had been very much moved by Hermione
she had really come into contact with her so that there was a sort of league
between the two women And yet she could not bear her But she put the thought
away »Shes really good« she said to herself »She really wants what is
right« And she tried to feel at one with Hermione and to shut off from Birkin
She was strictly hostile to him But she was held to him by some bond some deep
principle This at once irritated her and saved her
Only now and again violent little shudders would come over her out of her
subconsciousness and she knew it was the fact that she had stated her challenge
to Birkin and he had consciously or unconsciously accepted It was a fight to
the death between them or to new life though in what the conflict lay no one
could say
Chapter XIII
Mino
The days went by and she received no sign Was he going to ignore her was he
going to take no further notice of her secret A dreary weight of anxiety and
acrid bitterness settled on her And yet Ursula knew she was only deceiving
herself and that he would proceed She said no word to anybody
Then sure enough there came a note from him asking if she would come to
tea with Gudrun to his rooms in town
»Why does he ask Gudrun as well« she asked herself at once »Does he want
to protect himself or does he think I would not go alone«
She was tormented by the thought that he wanted to protect himself But at
the end of all she only said to herself
»I dont want Gudrun to be there because I want him to say something more
to me So I shant tell Gudrun anything about it and I shall go alone Then I
shall know«
She found herself sitting on the tramcar mounting up the hill going out of
the town to the place where he had his lodging She seemed to have passed into
a kind of dream world absolved from the conditions of actuality She watched
the sordid streets of the town go by beneath her as if she were a spirit
disconnected from the material universe What had it all to do with her She was
palpitating and formless within the flux of the ghost life She could not
consider any more what anybody would say of her or think about her People had
passed out of her range she was absolved She had fallen strange and dim out
of the sheath of the material life as a berry falls from the only world it has
ever known down out of the sheath on to the real unknown
Birkin was standing in the middle of the room when she was shown in by the
landlady He too was moved outside himself She saw him agitated and shaken a
frail unsubstantial body silent like the node of some violent force that came
out from him and shook her almost into a swoon
»You are alone« he said
»Yes Gudrun could not come«
He instantly guessed why
And they were both seated in silence in the terrible tension of the room
She was aware that it was a pleasant room full of light and very restful in its
form aware also of a fuchsia tree with dangling scarlet and purple flowers
»How nice the fuchsias are« she said to break the silence
»Arent they Did you think I had forgotten what I said«
A swoon went over Ursulas mind
»I dont want you to remember it if you dont want to« she struggled to
say through the dark mist that covered her
There was silence for some moments
»No« he said »It isnt that Only if we are going to know each other we
must pledge ourselves for ever If we are going to make a relationship even of
friendship there must be something final and irrevocable about it«
There was a clang of mistrust and almost anger in his voice She did not
answer Her heart was too much contracted She could not have spoken
Seeing she was not going to reply he continued almost bitterly giving
himself away
»I cant say it is love I have to offer and it isnt love I want It is
something much more impersonal and harder and rarer«
There was a silence out of which she said
»You mean you dont love me«
She suffered furiously saying that
»Yes if you like to put it like that Though perhaps that isnt true I
dont know At any rate I dont feel the emotion of love for you no and I
dont want to Because it gives out in the last issues«
»Love gives out in the last issues« she asked feeling numb to the lips
»Yes it does At the very last one is alone beyond the influence of love
There is a real impersonal me that is beyond love beyond any emotional
relationship So it is with you But we want to delude ourselves that love is
the root It isnt It is only the branches The root is beyond love a naked
kind of isolation an isolated me that does not meet and mingle and never
can«
She watched him with wide troubled eyes His face was incandescent in its
abstract earnestness
»And you mean you cant love« she asked in trepidation
»Yes if you like I have loved But there is a beyond where there is not
love«
She could not submit to this She felt it swooning over her But she could
not submit
»But how do you know if you have never really loved« she asked
»It is true what I say there is a beyond in you in me which is further
than love beyond the scope as stars are beyond the scope of vision some of
them«
»Then there is no love« cried Ursula
»Ultimately no there is something else But ultimately there is no
love«
Ursula was given over to this statement for some moments Then she half rose
from her chair saying in a final repellant voice
»Then let me go home what am I doing here«
»There is the door« he said »You are a free agent«
He was suspended finely and perfectly in this extremity She hung motionless
for some seconds then she sat down again
»If there is no love what is there« she cried almost jeering
»Something« he said looking at her battling with his soul with all his
might
»What«
He was silent for a long time unable to be in communication with her while
she was in this state of opposition
»There is« he said in a voice of pure abstraction »a final me which is
stark and impersonal and beyond responsibility So there is a final you And it
is there I would want to meet you not in the emotional loving plane but
there beyond where there is no speech and no terms of agreement. There we are
two stark unknown beings two utterly strange creatures I would want to
approach you and you me And there could be no obligation because there is no
standard for action there because no understanding has been reaped from that
plane It is quite inhuman so there can be no calling to book in any form
whatsoever because one is outside the pale of all that is accepted and
nothing known applies One can only follow the impulse taking that which lies
in front and responsible for nothing asked for nothing giving nothing only
each taking according to the primal desire«
Ursula listened to this speech her mind dumb and almost senseless what he
said was so unexpected and so untoward
»It is just purely selfish« she said
»If it is pure yes But it isnt selfish at all Because I dont know what
I want of you I deliver myself over to the unknown in coming to you I am
without reserves or defences stripped entirely into the unknown Only there
needs the pledge between us that we will both cast off everything cast off
ourselves even and cease to be so that that which is perfectly ourselves can
take place in us.«
She pondered along her own line of thought
»But it is because you love me that you want me« she persisted
»No it isnt It is because I believe in you if I do believe in you«
»Arent you sure« she laughed suddenly hurt
He was looking at her steadfastly scarcely heeding what she said
»Yes I must believe in you or else I shouldnt be here saying this« he
replied »But that is all the proof I have I dont feel any very strong belief
at this particular moment«
She disliked him for this sudden relapse into weariness and faithlessness
»But dont you think me goodlooking« she persisted in a mocking voice
He looked at her to see if he felt that she was goodlooking
»I dont feel that youre goodlooking« he said
»Not even attractive« she mocked bitingly
He knitted his brows in sudden exasperation
»Dont you see that its not a question of visual appreciation in the
least« he cried »I dont want to see you Ive seen plenty of women Im sick
and weary of seeing them I want a woman I dont see«
»Im sorry I cant oblige you by being invisible« she laughed
»Yes« he said »you are invisible to me if you dont force me to be
visually aware of you But I dont want to see you or hear you«
»What did you ask me to tea for then« she mocked
But he would take no notice of her He was talking to himself
»I want to find you where you dont know your own existence the you that
your common self denies utterly But I dont want your good looks and I dont
want your womanly feelings and I dont want your thoughts nor opinions nor your
ideas they are all bagatelles to me«
»You are very conceited Monsieur« she mocked »How do you know what my
womanly feelings are or my thoughts or my ideas You dont even know what I
think of you now«
»Nor do I care in the slightest«
»I think you are very silly I think you want to tell me you love me and
you go all this way round to do it«
»All right« he said looking up with sudden exasperation »Now go away
then and leave me alone I dont want any more of your meretricious
persiflage«
»Is it really persiflage« she mocked her face really relaxing into
laughter She interpreted it that he had made a deep confession of love to her
But he was so absurd in his words also
They were silent for many minutes she was pleased and elated like a child
His concentration broke he began to look at her simply and naturally
»What I want is a strange conjunction with you « he said quietly » not
meeting and mingling you are quite right but an equilibrium a pure
balance of two single beings as the stars balance each other«
She looked at him He was very earnest and earnestness was always rather
ridiculous commonplace to her It made her feel unfree and uncomfortable Yet
she liked him so much But why drag in the stars
»Isnt this rather sudden« she mocked
He began to laugh
»Best to read the terms of the contract before we sign« he said
A young grey cat that had been sleeping on the sofa jumped down and
stretched rising on its long legs and arching its slim back Then it sat
considering for a moment erect and kingly And then like a dart it had shot
out of the room through the open windowdoors and into the garden
»Whats he after« said Birkin rising
The young cat trotted lordly down the path waving his tail He was an
ordinary tabby with white paws a slender young gentleman A crouching fluffy
brownishgrey cat was stealing up the side of the fence The Mino walked
statelily up to her with manly nonchalance She crouched before him and pressed
herself on the ground in humility a fluffy soft outcast looking up at him with
wild eyes that were green and lovely as great jewels He looked casually down on
her So she crept a few inches further proceeding on her way to the back door
crouching in a wonderful soft selfobliterating manner and moving like a
shadow
He going statelily on his slim legs walked after her then suddenly for
pure excess he gave her a light cuff with his paw on the side of her face She
ran off a few steps like a blown leaf along the ground then crouched
unobtrusively in submissive wild patience The Mino pretended to take no
notice of her He blinked his eyes superbly at the landscape In a minute she
drew herself together and moved softly a fleecy browngrey shadow a few paces
forward She began to quicken her pace in a moment she would be gone like a
dream when the young grey lord sprang before her and gave her a light handsome
cuff She subsided at once submissively
»She is a wild cat« said Birkin »She has come in from the woods«
The eyes of the stray cat flared round for a moment like great green fires
staring at Birkin Then she had rushed in a soft swift rush halfway down the
garden There she paused to look round The Mino turned his face in pure
superiority to his master and slowly closed his eyes standing in statuesque
young perfection The wild cats round green wondering eyes were staring all
the while like uncanny fires Then again like a shadow she slid towards the
kitchen
In a lovely springing leap like a wind the Mino was upon her and had
boxed her twice very definitely with a white delicate fist She sank and slid
back unquestioning He walked after her and cuffed her once or twice
leisurely with sudden little blows of his magic white paws
»Now why does he do that« cried Ursula in indignation
»They are on intimate terms« said Birkin
»And is that why he hits her«
»Yes« laughed Birkin »I think he wants to make it quite obvious to her«
»Isnt it horrid of him« she cried and going out into the garden she
called to the Mino
»Stop it dont bully Stop hitting her«
The stray cat vanished like a swift invisible shadow The Mino glanced at
Ursula then looked from her disdainfully to his master
»Are you a bully Mino« Birkin asked
The young slim cat looked at him and slowly narrowed its eyes Then it
glanced away at the landscape looking into the distance as if completely
oblivious of the two human beings
»Mino« said Ursula »I dont like you You are a bully like all males«
»No« said Birkin »he is justified He is not a bully He is only insisting
to the poor stray that she shall acknowledge him as a sort of fate her own
fate because you can see she is fluffy and promiscuous as the wind I am with
him entirely He wants superfine stability«
»Yes I know« cried Ursula »He wants his own way I know what your fine
words work down to bossiness I call it bossiness«
The young cat again glanced at Birkin in disdain of the noisy woman
»I quite agree with you Miciotto« said Birkin to the cat »Keep your male
dignity and your higher understanding«
Again the Mino narrowed his eyes as if he were looking at the sun Then
suddenly affecting to have no connection at all with the two people he went
trotting off with assumed spontaneity and gaiety his tail erect his white
feet blithe
»Now he will find the belle sauvage once more and entertain her with his
superior wisdom« laughed Birkin
Ursula looked at the man who stood in the garden with his hair blowing and
his eyes smiling ironically and she cried
»Oh it makes me so cross the assumption of male superiority And it is
such a lie One wouldnt mind if there were any justification for it«
»The wild cat« said Birkin »doesnt mind She perceives that it is
justified«
»Does she« cried Ursula »And tell it to the Horse Marines«
»To them also«
»It is just like Gerald Crich with his horse a lust for bullying a real
Wille zur Macht so base so petty«
»I agree that the Wille zur Macht is a base and petty thing But with the
Mino it is the desire to bring this female cat into a pure stable equilibrium
a transcendent and abiding rapport with the single male Whereas without him as
you see she is a mere stray a fluffy sporadic bit of chaos It is a volonté de
pouvoir if you like a win to ability taking pouvoir as a verb«
»Ah Sophistries Its the old Adam«
»Oh yes Adam kept Eve in the indestructible paradise when he kept her
single with himself like a star in its orbit«
»Yes yes « cried Ursula pointing her finger at him »There you are a
star in its orbit A satellite a satellite of Mars thats what she is to be
There there youve given yourself away You want a satellite Mars and his
satellite Youve said it youve said it youve dished yourself«
He stood smiling in frustration and amusement and irritation and admiration
and love She was so quick and so lambent like discernible fire and so
vindictive and so rich in her dangerous flamy sensitiveness
»Ive not said it at all« he replied »if you will give me a chance to
speak«
»No no« she cried »I wont let you speak Youve said it a satellite
youre not going to wriggle out of it Youve said it«
»Youll never believe now that I havent said it« he answered »I neither
implied nor indicated nor mentioned a satellite nor intended a satellite
never«
»You prevaricator« she cried in real indignation
»Tea is ready sir« said the landlady from the doorway
They both looked at her very much as the cats had looked at them a little
while before
»Thank you Mrs Daykin«
An interrupted silence fell over the two of them a moment of breach
»Come and have tea« he said
»Yes I should love it« she replied gathering herself together
They sat facing each other across the tea table
»I did not say nor imply a satellite I meant two single equal stars
balanced in conjunction «
»You gave yourself away you gave away your little game completely« she
cried beginning at once to eat He saw that she would take no further heed of
his expostulation so he began to pour the tea
»What good things to eat« she cried
»Take your own sugar« he said
He handed her her cup He had everything so nice such pretty cups and
plates painted with mauvelustre and green also shapely bowls and glass
plates and old spoons on a woven cloth of pale grey and black and purple It
was very rich and fine But Ursula could see Hermiones influence
»Your things are so lovely« she said almost angrily
»I like them It gives me real pleasure to use things that are attractive in
themselves pleasant things And Mrs Daykin is good She thinks everything is
wonderful for my sake«
»Really« said Ursula »landladies are better than wives nowadays They
certainly care a great deal more It is much more beautiful and complete here
now than if you were married«
»But think of the emptiness within« he laughed
»No« she said »I am jealous that men have such perfect landladies and such
beautiful lodgings There is nothing left them to desire«
»In the housekeeping way well hope not It is disgusting people marrying
for a home«
»Still« said Ursula »a man has very little need for a woman now has he«
»In outer things maybe except to share his bed and bear his children But
essentially there is just the same need as there ever was Only nobody takes
the trouble to be essential«
»How essential« she said
»I do think« he said »that the world is only held together by the mystic
conjunction the ultimate unison between people a bond And the immediate bond
is between man and woman«
»But its such old hat« said Ursula »Why should love be a bond No Im
not having any«
»If you are walking westward« he said »you forfeit the northern and
eastward and southern direction If you admit a unison you forfeit all the
possibilities of chaos«
»But love is freedom« she declared
»Dont cant to me« he replied »Love is a direction which excludes all
other directions Its a freedom together if you like«
»No« she said »love includes everything«
»Sentimental cant« he replied »You want the state of chaos thats all It
is ultimate nihilism this freedominlove business this freedom which is love
and love which is freedom As a matter of fact, if you enter into a pure unison
it is irrevocable and it is never pure till it is irrevocable And when it is
irrevocable it is one way like the path of a star«
»Ha« she cried bitterly »It is the old dead morality«
»No« he said »it is the law of creation One is committed One must commit
oneself to a conjunction with the other for ever But it is not selfless it
is a maintaining of the self in mystic balance and integrity like a star
balanced with another star«
»I dont trust you when you drag in the stars« she said »If you were quite
true it wouldnt be necessary to be so farfetched«
»Dont trust me then« he said angry »It is enough that I trust myself«
»And that is where you make another mistake« she replied »You dont trust
yourself You dont fully believe yourself what you are saying You dont really
want this conjunction otherwise you wouldnt talk so much about it youd get
it«
He was suspended for a moment arrested
»How« he said
»By just loving« she retorted in defiance
He was still a moment in anger Then he said
»I tell you I dont believe in love like that I tell you you want love to
administer to your egoism to subserve you Love is a process of subservience
with you and with everybody I hate it«
»No« she cried pressing back her head like a cobra her eyes flashing »It
is a process of pride I want to be proud «
»Proud and subservient proud and subservient I know you« he retorted
dryly »Proud and subservient then subservient to the proud I know you and
your love It is a ticktack ticktack a dance of opposites«
»Are you sure« she mocked wickedly »what my love is«
»Yes I am« he retorted
»So cocksure« she said »How can anybody ever be right who is so cocksure
It shows you are wrong«
He was silent in chagrin
They had talked and struggled till they were both wearied out
»Tell me about yourself and your people« he said
And she told him about the Brangwens and about her mother and about
Skrebensky her first love and about her later experiences He sat very still
watching her as she talked And he seemed to listen with reverence Her face was
beautiful and full of baffled light as she told him all the things that had hurt
her or perplexed her so deeply He seemed to warm and comfort his soul at the
beautiful light of her nature
»If she really could pledge herself« he thought to himself with passionate
insistence but hardly any hope Yet a curious little irresponsible laughter
appeared in his heart
»We have all suffered so much« he mocked ironically
She looked up at him and a flash of wild gaiety went over her face a
strange flash of yellow light coming from her eyes
»Havent we« she cried in a high reckless cry »It is almost absurd
isnt it«
»Quite absurd« he said »Suffering bores me any more«
»So it does me«
He was almost afraid of the mocking recklessness of her splendid face Here
was one who would go to the whole lengths of heaven or hell whichever she had
to go And he mistrusted her he was afraid of a woman capable of such abandon
such dangerous thoroughness of destructivity Yet he chuckled within himself
also
She came over to him and put her hand on his shoulder looking down at him
with strange goldenlighted eyes very tender but with a curious devilish look
lurking underneath
»Say you love me say my love to me« she pleaded
He looked back into her eyes and saw His face flickered with sardonic
comprehension
»I love you right enough« he said grimly »But I want it to be something
else«
»But why But why« she insisted bending her wonderful luminous face to
him »Why isnt it enough«
»Because we can go one better« he said putting his arms round her
»No we cant« she said in a strong voluptuous voice of yielding »We can
only love each other Say my love to me say it say it«
She put her arms round his neck He enfolded her and kissed her subtly
murmuring in a subtle voice of love and irony and submission
»Yes my love yes my love Let love be enough then I love you then I
love you Im bored by the rest«
»Yes« she murmured nestling very sweet and close to him
Chapter XIV
WaterParty
Every year Mr Crich gave a more or less public waterparty on the lake There
was a little pleasurelaunch on Willey Water and several rowingboats and
guests could take tea either in the marquee that was set up in the grounds of
the house or they could picnic in the shade of the great walnut tree at the
boathouse by the lake This year the staff of the Grammar School was invited
along with the chief officials of the firm Gerald and the younger Criches did
not care for this party but it had become customary now and it pleased the
father as being the only occasion when he could gather some people of the
district together in festivity with him For he loved to give pleasures to his
dependents and to those poorer than himself But his children preferred the
company of their equals in wealth They hated their inferiors humility or
gratitude or awkwardness
Nevertheless they were willing to attend at this festival as they had done
almost since they were children the more so as they all felt a little guilty
now and unwilling to thwart their father any more since he was so ill in
health Therefore quite cheerfully Laura prepared to take her mothers place as
hostess and Gerald assumed responsibility for the amusements on the water
Birkin had written to Ursula saying he expected to see her at the party and
Gudrun although she scorned the patronage of the Criches would nevertheless
accompany her mother and father if the weather were fine
The day came blue and full of sunshine with little wafts of wind The
sisters both wore dresses of white crêpe and hats of soft grass But Gudrun had
a sash of brilliant black and pink and yellow colour wound broadly round her
waist and she had pink silk stockings and black and pink and yellow decoration
on the brim of her hat weighing it down a little She carried also a yellow
silk coat over her arm so that she looked remarkable like a painting from the
Salon Her appearance was a sore trial to her father who said angrily
»Dont you think you might as well get yourself up for a Christmas cracker
an ha done with it«
But Gudrun looked handsome and brilliant and she wore her clothes in pure
defiance When people stared at her and giggled after her she made a point of
saying loudly to Ursula
»Regarde regarde ces genslá Ne sontils pas des hiboux incroyables« And
with the words of French in her mouth she would look over her shoulder at the
giggling party
»No really its impossible« Ursula would reply distinctly And so the two
girls took it out of their universal enemy But their father became more and
more enraged
Ursula was all snowy white save that her hat was pink and entirely without
trimming and her shoes were dark red and she carried an orangecoloured coat
And in this guise they were walking all the wayto Shortlands their father and
mother going in front
They were laughing at their mother who dressed in a summer material of
black and purple stripes and wearing a hat of purple straw was setting forth
with much more of the shyness and trepidation of a young girl than her daughters
ever felt walking demurely beside her husband who as usual looked rather
crumpled in his best suit as if he were the father of a young family and had
been holding the baby whilst his wife got dressed
»Look at the young couple in front« said Gudrun calmly Ursula looked at
her mother and father and was suddenly seized with uncontrollable laughter The
two girls stood in the road and laughed till the tears ran down their faces as
they caught sight again of the shy unworldly couple of their parents going on
ahead
»We are roaring at you mother« called Ursula helplessly following after
her parents
Mrs Brangwen turned round with a slightly puzzled exasperated look »Oh
indeed« she said »What is there so very funny about me I should like to
know«
She could not understand that there could be anything amiss with her
appearance She had a perfect calm sufficiency an easy indifference to any
criticism whatsoever as if she were beyond it Her clothes were always rather
odd and as a rule slipshod yet she wore them with a perfect ease and
satisfaction Whatever she had on so long as she was barely tidy she was
right beyond remark such an aristocrat she was by instinct
»You look so stately like a country Baroness« said Ursula laughing with a
little tenderness at her mothers naïve puzzled air
»Just like a country Baroness« chimed in Gudrun Now the mothers natural
hauteur became selfconscious and the girls shrieked again
»Go home you pair of idiots great giggling idiots« cried the father
inflamed with irritation
»Mmmer« booed Ursula pulling a face at his crossness
The yellow lights danced in his eyes he leaned forward in real rage
»Dont be so silly as to take any notice of the great gabies« said Mrs
Brangwen turning on her way
»Ill see if Im going to be followed by a pair of giggling yelling
jackanapes « he cried vengefully
The girls stood still laughing helplessly at his fury upon the path beside
the hedge
»Why youre as silly as they are to take any notice« said Mrs Brangwen
also becoming angry now he was really enraged
»There are some people coming father« cried Ursula with mocking warning
He glanced round quickly and went on to join his wife walking stiff with rage
And the girls followed weak with laughter
When the people had passed by Brangwen cried in a loud stupid voice
»Im going back home if theres any more of this Im damned if Im going to
be made a fool of in this fashion in the public road«
He was really out of temper At the sound of his blind vindictive voice
the laughter suddenly left the girls and their hearts contracted with contempt
They hated his words in the public road What did they care for the public road
But Gudrun was conciliatory
»But we werent laughing to hurt you« she cried with an uncouth gentleness
which made her parents uncomfortable »We were laughing because were fond of
you«
»Well walk on in front if they are so touchy« said Ursula angry And in
this wise they arrived at Willey Water The lake was blue and fair the meadows
sloped down in sunshine on one side the thick dark woods dropped steeply on the
other The little pleasurelaunch was fussing out from the shore twanging its
music crowded with people flapping its paddles Near the boathouse was a
throng of gailydressed persons small in the distance And on the highroad
some of the common people were standing along the hedge looking at the
festivity beyond enviously like souls not admitted to paradise
»My eye« said Gudrun sotto voce looking at the motley of guests »theres
a pretty crowd if you like Imagine yourself in the midst of that my dear«
Gudruns apprehensive horror of people in the mass unnerved Ursula »It
looks rather awful« she said anxiously
»And imagine what theyll be like imagine« said Gudrun still in that
unnerving subdued voice Yet she advanced determinedly
»I suppose we can get away from them« said Ursula anxiously
»Were in a pretty fix if we cant« said Gudrun Her extreme ironic
loathing and apprehension was very trying to Ursula
»We neednt stay« she said
»I certainly shant stay five minutes among that little lot« said Gudrun
They advanced nearer till they saw policemen at the gates
»Policemen to keep you in too« said Gudrun »My word this is a beautiful
affair«
»Wed better look after father and mother« said Ursula anxiously
»Mothers perfectly capable of getting through this little celebration«
said Gudrun with some contempt
But Ursula knew that her father felt uncouth and angry and unhappy so she
was far from her ease They waited outside the gate till their parents came up
The tall thin man in his crumpled clothes was unnerved and irritable as a boy
finding himself on the brink of this social function He did not feel a
gentleman he did not feel anything except pure exasperation
Ursula took her place at his side they gave their tickets to the policeman
and passed in on to the grass four abreast the tall hot ruddydark man with
his narrow boyish brow drawn with irritation the freshfaced easy woman
perfectly collected though her hair was slipping on one side then Gudrun her
eyes round and dark and staring her full soft face impassive almost sulky so
that she seemed to be backing away in antagonism even whilst she was advancing
and then Ursula with the odd brilliant dazzled look on her face that always
came when she was in some false situation
Birkin was the good angel He came smiling to them with his affected social
grace that somehow was never quite right But he took off his hat and smiled at
them with a real smile in his eyes so that Brangwen cried out heartily in
relief
»How do you do Youre better are you«
»Yes Im better How do you do Mrs Brangwen I know Gudrun and Ursula
very well«
His eyes smiled full of natural warmth He had a soft flattering manner
with women particularly with women who were not young
»Yes« said Mrs Brangwen cool but yet gratified »I have heard them speak
of you often enough«
He laughed Gudrun looked aside feeling she was being belittled People
were standing about in groups some women were sitting in the shade of the
walnut tree with cups of tea in their hands a waiter in evening dress was
hurrying round some girls were simpering with parasols some young men who had
just come in from rowing were sitting crosslegged on the grass coatless
their shirtsleeves rolled up in manly fashion their hands resting on their
white flannel trousers their gaudy ties floating about as they laughed and
tried to be witty with the young damsels
»Why« thought Gudrun churlishly »dont they have the manners to put their
coats on and not to assume such intimacy in their appearance«
She abhorred the ordinary young man with his hair plastered back and his
easygoing chumminess
Hermione Roddice came up in a handsome gown of white lace trailing an
enormous silk shawl blotched with great embroidered flowers and balancing an
enormous plain hat on her head She looked striking astonishing almost
macabre so tall with the fringe of her great creamcoloured vividlyblotched
shawl trailing on the ground after her her thick hair coming low over her eyes
her face strange and long and pale and the blotches of brilliant colour drawn
round her
»Doesnt she look weird« Gudrun heard some girls titter behind her And she
could have killed them
»How do you do« sang Hermione coming up very kindly and glancing slowly
over Gudruns father and mother It was a trying moment exasperating for
Gudrun Hermione was really so strongly entrenched in her class superiority she
could come up and know people out of simple curiosity as if they were creatures
on exhibition Gudrun would do the same herself But she resented being in the
position when somebody might do it to her
Hermione very remarkable and distinguishing the Brangwens very much led
them along to where Laura Crich stood receiving the guests
»This is Mrs Brangwen« sang Hermione and Laura who wore a stiff
embroidered linen dress shook hands and said she was glad to see her Then
Gerald came up dressed in white with a black and brown blazer and looking
handsome He too was introduced to the Brangwen parents and immediately he
spoke to Mrs Brangwen as if she were a lady and to Brangwen as if he were not
a gentleman Gerald was so obvious in his demeanour He had to shake hands with
his left hand because he had hurt his right and carried it bandaged up in
the pocket of his jacket Gudrun was very thankful that none of her party asked
him what was the matter with the hand
The steam launch was fussing in all its music jingling people calling
excitedly from on board Gerald went to see to the debarkation Birkin was
getting tea for Mrs Brangwen Brangwen had joined a GrammarSchool group
Hermione was sitting down by their mother the girls went to the landingstage
to watch the launch come in
She hooted and tooted gaily then her paddles were silent the ropes were
thrown ashore she drifted in with a little bump Immediately the passengers
crowded excitedly to come ashore
»Wait a minute wait a minute« shouted Gerald in sharp command
They must wait till the boat was tight on the ropes till the small gangway
was put out Then they streamed ashore clamouring as if they had come from
America
»Oh its so nice« the young girls were crying »Its quite lovely«
The waiters from on board ran out to the boathouse with baskets the
captain lounged on the little bridge Seeing all safe Gerald came to Gudrun and
Ursula
»You wouldnt care to go on board for the next trip and have tea there« he
asked
»No thanks« said Gudrun coldly
»You dont care for the water«
»For the water Yes I like it very much«
He looked at her his eyes searching
»You dont care for going on a launch then«
She was slow in answering and then she spoke slowly
»No« she said »I cant say that I do« Her colour was high she seemed
angry about something
»Un peu trop de monde« said Ursula explaining
»Eh Trop de monde« He laughed shortly »Yes theres a fair number of
em«
Gudrun turned on him brilliantly
»Have you ever been from Westminster Bridge to Richmond on one of the Thames
steamers« she cried
»No« he said »I cant say I have«
»Well its one of the most vile experiences Ive ever had« She spoke
rapidly and excitedly the colour high in her cheeks »There was absolutely
nowhere to sit down nowhere a man just above sang Rocked in the Cradle of the
Deep the whole way he was blind and he had a small organ one of those portable
organs and he expected money so you can imagine what that was like there came
a constant smell of luncheon from below and puffs of hot oily machinery the
journey took hours and hours and hours and for miles literally for miles
dreadful boys ran with us on the shore in that awful Thames mud going in up to
the waist they had their trousers turned back and they went up to their hips
in that indescribable Thames mud their faces always turned to us and
screaming exactly like carrion creatures screaming Ere yare sir ere yare
sir ere yare sir exactly like some foul carrion objects perfectly obscene
and paterfamilias on board laughing when the boys went right down in that awful
mud occasionally throwing them a hapenny And if youd seen the intent look on
the faces of these boys and the way they darted in the filth when a coin was
flung really no vulture or jackal could dream of approaching them for
foulness I never would go on a pleasure boat again never«
Gerald watched her all the time she spoke his eyes glittering with faint
rousedness It was not so much what she said it was she herself who roused him
roused him with a small vivid pricking
»Of course« he said »every civilised body is bound to have its vermin«
»Why« cried Ursula »I dont have vermin«
»And its not that its the quality of the whole thing paterfamilias
laughing and thinking it sport and throwing the hapennies and materfamilias
spreading her fat little knees and eating continually eating « replied Gudrun
»Yes« said Ursula »It isnt the boys so much who are vermin its the
people themselves the whole body politic as you call it«
Gerald laughed
»Never mind« he said »You shant go on the launch«
Gudrun flushed quickly at his rebuke
There were a few moments of silence Gerald like a sentinel was watching
the people who were going on to the boat He was very goodlooking and
selfcontained but his air of soldierly alertness was rather irritating
»Will you have tea here then or go across to the house where theres a
tent on the lawn« he asked
»Cant we have a rowingboat and get out« asked Ursula who was always
rushing in too fast
»To get out« smiled Gerald
»You see« said Gudrun flushing at Ursulas outspoken rudeness »we dont
know the people we are almost complete strangers here«
»Oh I can soon set you up with a few acquaintances« he said easily
Gudrun looked at him to see if it were illmeant Then she smiled at him
»Ah« she said »you know what we mean Cant we go up there and explore
that coast She pointed to a grove on the hillock of the meadowside near the
shore halfway down the lake That looks perfectly lovely We might even bathe
Isnt it beautiful in this light Really its like one of the reaches of the
Nile as one imagines the Nile«
Gerald smiled at her factitious enthusiasm for the distant spot
»Youre sure its far enough off« he asked ironically adding at once
»Yes you might go there if we could get a boat They seem to be all out«
He looked round the lake and counted the rowingboats on its surface
»How lovely it would be« cried Ursula wistfully
»And dont you want tea« he said
»Oh« said Gudrun »we could just drink a cup and be off«
He looked from one to the other smiling He was somewhat offended yet
sporting
»Can you manage a boat pretty well« he asked
»Yes« replied Gudrun coldly »pretty well«
»Oh yes« cried Ursula »We can both of us row like waterspiders«
»You can Theres a light little canoe of mine that I didnt take out for
fear somebody should drown themselves Do you think youd be safe in that«
»Oh perfectly« said Gudrun
»What an angel« cried Ursula
»Dont for my sake have an accident because Im responsible for the
water«
»Sure« pledged Gudrun
»Besides we can both swim quite well« said Ursula
»Well then Ill get them to put you up a teabasket and you can picnic
all to yourselves thats the idea isnt it«
»How fearfully good How frightfully nice if you could« cried Gudrun
warmly her colour flushing up again It made the blood stir in his veins the
subtle way she turned to him and infused her gratitude into his body
»Wheres Birkin« he said his eyes twinkling »He might help me to get it
down«
»But what about your hand Isnt it hurt« asked Gudrun rather muted as if
avoiding the intimacy This was the first time the hurt had been mentioned The
curious way she skirted round the subject sent a new subtle caress through his
veins He took his hand out of his pocket It was bandaged He looked at it
then put it in his pocket again Gudrun quivered at the sight of the wrappedup
paw
»Oh I can manage with one hand The canoe is as light as a feather« he
said »Theres Rupert Rupert«
Birkin turned from his social duties and came towards them
»What have you done to it« asked Ursula who had been aching to put the
question for the last halfhour
»To my hand« said Gerald »I trapped it in some machinery«
»Ugh« said Ursula »And did it hurt much«
»Yes« he said »It did at the time Its getting better now It crushed the
fingers«
»Oh« cried Ursula as if in pain »I hate people who hurt themselves I can
feel it« And she shook her hand
»What do you want« said Birkin
The two men carried down the slim brown boat and set it on the water
»Youre quite sure youll be safe in it« Gerald asked
»Quite sure« said Gudrun »I wouldnt be so mean as to take it if there
was the slightest doubt But Ive had a canoe at Arundel and I assure you Im
perfectly safe«
So saying having given her word like a man she and Ursula entered the
frail craft and pushed gently off The two men stood watching them Gudrun was
paddling She knew the men were watching her and it made her slow and rather
clumsy The colour flew in her face like a flag
»Thanks awfully« she called back to him from the water as the boat slid
away »Its lovely like sitting in a leaf«
He laughed at the fancy Her voice was shrill and strange calling from the
distance He watched her as she paddled away There was something childlike
about her trustful and deferential like a child He watched her all the while
as she rowed And to Gudrun it was a real delight in makebelief to be the
childlike clinging woman to the man who stood there on the quay so
goodlooking and efficient in his white clothes and moreover the most important
man she knew at the moment She did not take any notice of the wavering
indistinct lambent Birkin who stood at his side One figure at a time occupied
the field of her attention
The boat rustled lightly along the water They passed the bathers whose
striped tents stood between the willows of the meadows edge and drew along the
open shore past the meadows that sloped golden in the light of the already late
afternoon Other boats were stealing under the wooded shore opposite they could
hear peoples laughter and voices But Gudrun rowed on towards the clump of
trees that balanced perfect in the distance in the golden light
The sisters found a little place where a tiny stream flowed into the lake
with reeds and flowery marsh of pink willow herb and a gravelly bank to the
side Here they ran delicately ashore with their frail boat the two girls took
off their shoes and stockings and went through the waters edge to the grass
The tiny ripples of the lake were warm and clear they lifted their boat on to
the bank and looked round with joy They were quite alone in a forsaken little
streammouth and on the knoll just behind was the clump of trees
»We will bathe just for a moment« said Ursula »and then well have tea«
They looked round Nobody could notice them or could come up in time to see
them In less than a minute Ursula had thrown off her clothes and had slipped
naked into the water and was swimming out Quickly Gudrun joined her They
swam silently and blissfully for a few minutes circling round their little
streammouth Then they slipped ashore and ran into the grove again like
nymphs
»How lovely it is to be free« said Ursula running swiftly here and there
between the treetrunks quite naked her hair blowing loose The grove was of
beechtrees big and splendid a steelgrey scaffolding of trunks and boughs
with level sprays of strong green here and there whilst through the northern
side the distance glimmered open as through a window
When they had run and danced themselves dry the girls quickly dressed and
sat down to the fragrant tea They sat on the northern side of the grove in the
yellow sunshine facing the slope of the grassy hill alone in a little wild
world of their own The tea was hot and aromatic there were delicious little
sandwiches of cucumber and of caviare and winy cakes
»Are you happy Prune« cried Ursula in delight looking at her sister
»Ursula Im perfectly happy« replied Gudrun gravely looking at the
westering sun
»So am I«
When they were together doing the things they enjoyed the two sisters were
quite complete in a perfect world of their own And this was one of the perfect
moments of freedom and delight such as children alone know when all seems a
perfect and blissful adventure
When they had finished tea the two girls sat on silent and serene Then
Ursula who had a beautiful strong voice began to sing to herself softly
»Annchen von Tharau« Gudrun listened as she sat beneath the trees and the
yearning came into her heart Ursula seemed so peaceful and sufficient unto
herself sitting there unconsciously crooning her song strong and unquestioned
at the centre of her own universe And Gudrun felt herself outside Always this
desolating agonised feeling that she was outside of life an onlooker whilst
Ursula was a partaker caused Gudrun to suffer from a sense of her own negation
and made her that she must always demand the other to be aware of her to be in
connection with her
»Do you mind if I do Dalcroze to that tune Hurtler« she asked in a curious
muted tone scarce moving her lips
»What did you say« asked Ursula looking up in peaceful surprise
»Will you sing while I do Dalcroze« said Gudrun suffering at having to
repeat herself
Ursula thought a moment gathering her straying wits together
»While you do « she asked vaguely
»Dalcroze movements« said Gudrun suffering tortures of self-consciousness
even because of her sister
»Oh Dalcroze I couldnt catch the name Do I should love to see you«
cried Ursula with childish surprised brightness »What shall I sing«
»Sing anything you like and Ill take the rhythm from it«
But Ursula could not for her life think of anything to sing However she
suddenly began in a laughing teasing voice
»My love is a highborn lady «
Gudrun looking as if some invisible chain weighed on her hands and feet
began slowly to dance in the eurhythmic manner pulsing and fluttering
rhythmically with her feet making slower regular gestures with her hands and
arms now spreading her arms wide now raising them above her head now flinging
them softly apart and lifting her face her feet all the time beating and
running to the measure of the song as if it were some strange incantation her
white rapt form drifting here and there in a strange impulsive rhapsody
seeming to be lifted on a breeze of incantation shuddering with strange little
runs Ursula sat on the grass her mouth open in her singing her eyes laughing
as if she thought it was a great joke but a yellow light flashing up in them
as she caught some of the unconscious ritualistic suggestion of the complex
shuddering and waving and drifting of her sisters white form that was clutched
in pure mindless tossing rhythm and a will set powerful in a kind of hypnotic
influence
»My love is a highborn lady She isss rather dark than shady « rang
out Ursulas laughing satiric song and quicker fiercer went Gudrun in the
dance stamping as if she were trying to throw off some bond flinging her hands
suddenly and stamping again then rushing with face uplifted and throat full and
beautiful and eyes half closed sightless The sun was low and yellow sinking
down and in the sky floated a thin ineffectual moon
Ursula was quite absorbed in her song when suddenly Gudrun stopped and said
mildly ironically
»Ursula«
»Yes« said Ursula opening her eyes out of the trance
Gudrun was standing still and pointing a mocking smile on her face towards
the side
»Ugh« cried Ursula in sudden panic starting to her feet
»Theyre quite all right« rang out Gudruns sardonic voice
On the left stood a little cluster of Highland cattle vividly coloured and
fleecy in the evening light their horns branching into the sky pushing forward
their muzzles inquisitively to know what it was all about Their eyes glittered
through their tangle of hair their naked nostrils were full of shadow
»Wont they do anything« cried Ursula in fear
Gudrun who was usually frightened of cattle now shook her head in a queer
halfdoubtful halfsardonic motion a faint smile round her mouth
»Dont they look charming Ursula« cried Gudrun in a high strident voice
something like the scream of a seagull
»Charming« cried Ursula in trepidation »But wont they do anything to us«
Again Gudrun looked back at her sister with an enigmatic smile and shook
her head
»Im sure they wont« she said as if she had to convince herself also and
yet as if she were confident of some secret power in herself and had to put it
to the test »Sit down and sing again« she called in her high strident voice
»Im frightened« cried Ursula in a pathetic voice watching the group of
sturdy short cattle that stood with their knees planted and watched with their
dark wicked eyes through the matted fringe of their hair Nevertheless she
sank down again in her former posture
»They are quite safe« came Gudruns high call »Sing something youve only
to sing something«
It was evident she had a strange passion to dance before the sturdy
handsome cattle
Ursula began to sing in a false quavering voice
»Way down in Tennessee «
She sounded purely anxious Nevertheless Gudrun with her arms outspread
and her face uplifted went in a strange palpitating dance towards the cattle
lifting her body towards them as if in a spell her feet pulsing as if in some
little frenzy of unconscious sensation her arms her wrists her hands
stretching and heaving and falling and reaching and reaching and falling her
breasts lifted and shaken towards the cattle her throat exposed as in some
voluptuous ecstasy towards them whilst she drifted imperceptibly nearer an
uncanny white figure towards them carried away in its own rapt trance ebbing
in strange fluctuations upon the cattle that waited and ducked their heads a
little in sudden contraction from her watching all the time as if hypnotised
their bare horns branching in the clear light as the white figure of the woman
ebbed upon them in the slow hypnotising convulsion of the dance She could
feel them just in front of her it was as if she had the electric pulse from
their breasts running into her hands Soon she would touch them actually touch
them A terrible shiver of fear and pleasure went through her And all the while
Ursula spellbound kept up her highpitched thin irrelevant song which
pierced the fading evening like an incantation
Gudrun could hear the cattle breathing heavily with helpless fear and
fascination Oh they were brave little beasts these wild Scotch bullocks wild
and fleecy Suddenly one of them snorted ducked its head and backed
»Hue Hieee« came a sudden loud shout from the edge of the grove The
cattle broke and fell back quite spontaneously went running up the hill their
fleece waving like fire to their motion Gudrun stood suspended out on the
grass Ursula rose to her feet
It was Gerald and Birkin come to find them and Gerald had cried out to
frighten off the cattle
»What do you think youre doing« he now called in a high wondering vexed
tone
»Why have you come« came back Gudruns strident cry of anger
»What do you think you were doing« Gerald repeated automatically
»We were doing eurhythmics« laughed Ursula in a shaken voice
Gudrun stood aloof looking at them with large dark eyes of resentment
suspended for a few moments Then she walked away up the hill after the cattle
which had gathered in a little spellbound cluster higher up
»Where are you going« Gerald called after her And he followed her up the
hillside The sun had gone behind the hill and shadows were clinging to the
earth the sky above was full of travelling light
»A poor song for a dance« said Birkin to Ursula standing before her with a
sardonic flickering laugh on his face And in another second he was singing
softly to himself and dancing a grotesque stepdance in front of her his limbs
and body shaking loose his face flickering palely a constant thing whilst his
feet beat a rapid mocking tattoo and his body seemed to hang all loose and
quaking in between like a shadow
»I think weve all gone mad« she said laughing rather frightened
»Pity we arent madder« he answered as he kept up the incessant shaking
dance Then suddenly he leaned up to her and kissed her fingers lightly putting
his face to hers and looking into her eyes with a pale grin She stepped back
affronted
»Offended « he asked ironically suddenly going quite still and reserved
again »I thought you liked the light fantastic«
»Not like that« she said confused and bewildered almost affronted Yet
somewhere inside her she was fascinated by the sight of his loose vibrating
body perfectly abandoned to its own dropping and swinging and by the pallid
sardonicsmiling face above Yet automatically she stiffened herself away and
disapproved It seemed almost an obscenity in a man who talked as a rule so
very seriously
»Why not like that« he mocked And immediately he dropped again into the
incredibly rapid slackwaggling dance watching her malevolently And moving in
the rapid stationary dance he came a little nearer and reached forward with
an incredibly mocking satiric gleam on his face and would have kissed her
again had she not started back
»No dont« she cried really afraid
»Cordelia after all« he said satirically She was stung as if this were an
insult She knew he intended it as such and it bewildered her
»And you« she cried in retort »why do you always take your soul in your
mouth so frightfully full«
»So that I can spit it out the more readily« he said pleased by his own
retort
Gerald Crich his face narrowing to an intent gleam followed up the hill
with quick strides straight after Gudrun The cattle stood with their noses
together on the brow of a slope watching the scene below the men in white
hovering about the white forms of the women watching above all Gudrun who was
advancing slowly towards them She stood a moment glancing back at Gerald and
then at the cattle
Then in a sudden motion she lifted her arms and rushed sheer upon the
longhorned bullocks in shuddering irregular runs pausing for a second and
looking at them then lifting her hands and running forward with a flash till
they ceased pawing the ground and gave way snorting with terror lifting their
heads from the ground and flinging themselves away galloping off into the
evening becoming tiny in the distance and still not stopping
Gudrun remained staring after them with a masklike defiant face
»Why do you want to drive them mad« asked Gerald coming up with her
She took no notice of him only averted her face from him
»Its not safe you know« he persisted »Theyre nasty when they do turn«
»Turn where Turn away« she mocked loudly
»No« he said »turn against you«
»Turn against me« she mocked
He could make nothing of this
»Anyway they gored one of the farmers cows to death the other day« he
said
»What do I care« she said
»I cared though« he replied »seeing that theyre my cattle«
»How are they yours You havent swallowed them Give me one of them now«
she said holding out her hand
»You know where they are« he said pointing over the hill »You can have
one if youd like it sent to you later on«
She looked at him inscrutably
»You think Im afraid of you and your cattle dont you« she asked
His eyes narrowed dangerously There was a faint domineering smile on his
face
»Why should I think that« he said
She was watching him all the time with her dark dilated inchoate eyes She
leaned forward and swung round her arm catching him a light blow on the face
with the back of her hand
»Thats why« she said mocking
And she felt in her soul an unconquerable desire for deep violence against
him She shut off the fear and dismay that filled her conscious mind She wanted
to do as she did she was not going to be afraid
He recoiled from the slight blow on his face He became deadly pale and a
dangerous flame darkened his eyes For some seconds he could not speak his
lungs were so suffused with blood his heart stretched almost to bursting with a
great gush of ungovernable emotion It was as if some reservoir of black emotion
had burst within him and swamped him
»You have struck the first blow« he said at last forcing the words from
his lungs in a voice so soft and low it sounded like a dream within her not
spoken in the outer air
»And I shall strike the last« she retorted involuntarily with confident
assurance He was silent he did not contradict her
She stood negligently staring away from him into the distance On the edge
of her consciousness the question was asking itself automatically
»Why are you behaving in this impossible and ridiculous fashion« But she
was sullen she half shoved the question out of herself She could not get it
clean away so she felt selfconscious
Gerald very pale was watching her closely His eyes were lit up with
intent lights absorbed and gleaming She turned suddenly on him
»Its you who make me behave like this you know« she said almost
suggestive
»I How« he said
But she turned away and set off towards the lake Below on the water
lanterns were coming alight faint ghosts of warm flame floating in the pallor
of the first twilight The earth was spread with darkness like lacquer
overhead was a pale sky all primrose and the lake was pale as milk in one
part Away at the landingstage tiniest points of coloured rays were stringing
themselves in the dusk The launch was being illuminated All round shadow was
gathering from the trees
Gerald white like a presence in his summer clothes was following down the
open grassy slope Gudrun waited for him to come up Then she softly put out her
hand and touched him saying softly
»Dont be angry with me«
A flame flew over him and he was unconscious Yet he stammered
»Im not angry with you Im in love with you«
His mind was gone he grasped for sufficient mechanical control to save
himself She laughed a silvery little mockery yet intolerably caressive
»Thats one way of putting it« she said
The terrible swooning burden on his mind the awful swooning the loss of
all his control was too much for him He grasped her arm in his one hand as if
his hand were iron
»Its all right then is it« he said holding her arrested
She looked at the face with the fixed eyes set before her and her blood
ran cold
»Yes its all right« she said softly as if drugged her voice crooning
and witchlike
He walked on beside her a striding mindless body But he recovered a
little as he went He suffered badly He had killed his brother when a boy and
was set apart like Cain
They found Birkin and Ursula sitting together by the boats talking and
laughing Birkin had been teasing Ursula
»Do you smell this little marsh« he said sniffing the air He was very
sensitive to scents and quick in understanding them
»Its rather nice« she said
»No« he replied »alarming«
»Why alarming« she laughed
»It seethes and seethes a river of darkness« he said »putting forth
lilies and snakes and the ignis fatuus and rolling all the time onward Thats
what we never take into count that it rolls onwards«
»What does«
»The other river the black river We always consider the silver river of
life rolling on and quickening all the world to a brightness on and on to
heaven flowing into a bright eternal sea a heaven of angels thronging But the
other is our real reality «
»But what other I dont see any other« said Ursula
»It is your reality nevertheless« he said »that dark river of
dissolution You see it rolls in us just as the other rolls the black river of
corruption And our flowers are of this our seaborn Aphrodite all our white
phosphorescent flowers of sensuous perfection all our reality nowadays«
»You mean that Aphrodite is really deathly« asked Ursula
»I mean she is the flowering mystery of the deathprocess yes« he replied
»When the stream of synthetic creation lapses we find ourselves part of the
inverse process the blood of destructive creation Aphrodite is born in the
first spasm of universal dissolution then the snakes and swans and lotus
marshflowers and Gudrun and Gerald born in the process of destructive
creation«
»And you and me « she asked
»Probably« he replied »In part certainly Whether we are that in toto I
dont yet know«
»You mean we are flowers of dissolution fleurs du mal I dont feel as if
I were« she protested
He was silent for a time
»I dont feel as if we were altogether« he replied »Some people are pure
flowers of dark corruption lilies But there ought to be some roses warm and
flamy You know Herakleitos says a dry soul is best I know so well what that
means Do you«
»Im not sure« Ursula replied »But what if people are all flowers of
dissolution when theyre flowers at all what difference does it make«
»No difference and all the difference Dissolution rolls on just as
production does« he said »It is a progressive process and it ends in
universal nothing the end of the world if you like But why isnt the end of
the world as good as the beginning«
»I suppose it isnt« said Ursula rather angry
»Oh yes ultimately« he said »It means a new cycle of creation after but
not for us If it is the end then we are of the end fleurs du mal if you
like If we are fleurs du mal we are not roses of happiness and there you
are«
»But I think I am« said Ursula »I think I am a rose of happiness«
»Readymade« he asked ironically
»No real« she said hurt
»If we are the end we are not the beginning« he said
»Yes we are« she said »The beginning comes out of the end«
»After it not out of it After us not out of us«
»You are a devil you know really« she said »You want to destroy our
hope You want us to be deathly«
»No« he said »I only want us to know what we are«
»Ha« she cried in anger »You only want us to know death«
»Youre quite right« said the soft voice of Gerald out of the dusk behind
Birkin rose Gerald and Gudrun came up They all began to smoke in the
moments of silence One after another Birkin lighted their cigarettes The
match flickered in the twilight and they were all smoking peacefully by the
waterside The lake was dim the light dying from off it in the midst of the
dark land The air all round was intangible neither here nor there and there
was an unreal noise of banjoes or suchlike music
As the golden swim of light overhead died out the moon gained brightness
and seemed to begin to smile forth her ascendancy The dark woods on the
opposite shore melted into universal shadow And amid this universal
undershadow there was a scattered intrusion of lights Far down the lake were
fantastic pale strings of colour like beads of wan fire green and red and
yellow The music came out in a little puff as the launch all illuminated
veered into the great shadow stirring her outlines of halfliving lights
puffing out her music in little drifts
All were lighting up Here and there close against the faint water and at
the far end of the lake where the water lay milky in the last whiteness of the
sky and there was no shadow solitary frail flames of lanterns floated from
the unseen boats There was a sound of oars and a boat passed from the pallor
into the darkness under the wood where her lanterns seemed to kindle into fire
hanging in ruddy lovely globes And again in the lake shadowy red gleams
hovered in reflection about the boat Everywhere were these noiseless ruddy
creatures of fire drifting near the surface of the water caught at by the
rarest scarce visible reflections
Birkin brought the lanterns from the bigger boat and the four shadowy white
figures gathered round to light them Ursula held up the first Birkin lowered
the light from the rosy glowing cup of his hands into the depths of the
lantern It was kindled and they all stood back to look at the great blue moon
of light that hung from Ursulas hand casting a strange gleam on her face It
flickered and Birkin went bending over the well of light His face shone out
like an apparition so unconscious and again something demoniacal Ursula was
dim and veiled looming over him
»That is all right« said his voice softly
She held up the lantern It had a flight of storks streaming through a
turquoise sky of light over a dark earth
»This is beautiful« she said
»Lovely« echoed Gudrun who wanted to hold one also and lift it up full of
beauty
»Light one for me« she said Gerald stood by her incapacitated Birkin lit
the lantern she held up Her heart beat with anxiety to see how beautiful it
would be It was primrose yellow with tall straight flowers growing darkly from
their dark leaves lifting their heads into the primrose day while butterflies
hovered about them in the pure clear light
Gudrun gave a little cry of excitement as if pierced with delight
»Isnt it beautiful oh isnt it beautiful«
Her soul was really pierced with beauty she was translated beyond herself
Gerald leaned near to her into her zone of light as if to see He came close
to her and stood touching her looking with her at the primroseshining globe
And she turned her face to his that was faintly bright in the light of the
lantern and they stood together in one luminous union close together and
ringed round with light all the rest excluded
Birkin looked away and went to light Ursulas second lantern It had a pale
ruddy seabottom with black crabs and seaweed moving sinuously under a
transparent sea that passed into flamy ruddiness above
»Youve got the heavens above and the waters under the earth« said Birkin
to her
»Anything but the earth itself« she laughed watching his live hands that
hovered to attend to the light
»Im dying to see what my second one is« cried Gudrun in a vibrating
rather strident voice that seemed to repel the others from her
Birkin went and kindled it It was of a lovely deep blue colour with a red
floor and a great white cuttlefish flowing in white soft streams all over it
The cuttlefish had a face that stared straight from the heart of the light
very fixed and coldly intent
»How truly terrifying« exclaimed Gudrun in a voice of horror Gerald at
her side gave a low laugh
»But isnt it really fearful« she cried in dismay
Again he laughed and said
»Change it with Ursula for the crabs«
Gudrun was silent for a moment
»Ursula« she said »could you bear to have this fearful thing«
»I think the colouring is lovely« said Ursula
»So do I« said Gudrun »But could you bear to have it swinging to your
boat Dont you want to destroy it at once«
»Oh no« said Ursula »I dont want to destroy it«
»Well do you mind having it instead of the crabs Are you sure you dont
mind«
Gudrun came forward to exchange lanterns
»No« said Ursula yielding up the crabs and receiving the cuttlefish
Yet she could not help feeling rather resentful at the way in which Gudrun
and Gerald should assume a right over her a precedence
»Come then« said Birkin »Ill put them on the boats«
He and Ursula were moving away to the big boat
»I suppose youll row me back Rupert« said Gerald out of the pale shadow
of the evening
»Wont you go with Gudrun in the canoe« said Birkin »Itll be more
interesting«
There was a moments pause Birkin and Ursula stood dimly with their
swinging lanterns by the waters edge The world was all illusive
»Is that all right« said Gudrun to him
»Itll suit me very well« he said »But what about you and the rowing I
dont see why you should pull me«
»Why not« she said »I can pull you as well as I could pull Ursula«
By her tone he could tell she wanted to have him in the boat to herself and
that she was subtly gratified that she should have power over them both He gave
himself in a strange electric submission
She handed him the lanterns whilst she went to fix the cane at the end of
the canoe He followed after her and stood with the lanterns dangling against
his whiteflannelled thighs emphasising the shadow around
»Kiss me before we go« came his voice softly from out of the shadow above
She stopped her work in real momentary astonishment
»But why« she exclaimed in pure surprise
»Why« he echoed ironically
And she looked at him fixedly for some moments Then she leaned forward and
kissed him with a slow luxurious kiss lingering on the mouth And then she
took the lanterns from him while he stood swooning with the perfect fire that
burned in all his joints
They lifted the canoe into the water Gudrun took her place and Gerald
pushed off
»Are you sure you dont hurt your hand doing that« she asked solicitous
»Because I could have done it perfectly«
»I dont hurt myself« he said in a low soft voice that caressed her with
inexpressible beauty
And she watched him as he sat near her very near to her in the stern of
the canoe his legs coming towards hers his feet touching hers And she paddled
softly lingeringly longing for him to say something meaningful to her But he
remained silent
»You like this do you« she said in a gentle solicitous voice
He laughed shortly
»There is a space between us« he said in the same low unconscious voice
as if something were speaking out of him And she was as if magically aware of
their being balanced in separation in the boat She swooned with acute
comprehension and pleasure
»But Im very near« she said caressively gaily
»Yet distant distant« he said
Again she was silent with pleasure before she answered speaking with a
reedy thrilled voice
»Yet we cannot very well change whilst we are on the water« She caressed
him subtly and strangely having him completely at her mercy
A dozen or more boats on the lake swung their rosy and moonlike lanterns
low on the water that reflected as from a fire In the distance the steamer
twanged and thrummed and washed with her faintlysplashing paddles trailing her
strings of coloured lights and occasionally lighting up the whole scene luridly
with an effusion of fireworks Roman candles and sheafs of stars and other
simple effects illuminating the surface of the water and showing the boats
creeping round low down Then the lovely darkness fell again the lanterns and
the little threaded lights glimmered softly there was a muffled knocking of
oars and a waving of music
Gudrun paddled almost imperceptibly Gerald could see not far ahead the
rich blue and the rose globes of Ursulas lanterns swaying softly cheek to cheek
as Birkin rowed and iridescent evanescent gleams chasing in the wake He was
aware too of his own delicately coloured lights casting their softness behind
him
Gudrun rested her paddle and looked round The canoe lifted with the
lightest ebbing of the water Geralds white knees were very near to her
»Isnt it beautiful« she said softly as if reverently
She looked at him as he leaned back against the faint crystal of the
lanternlight She could see his face although it was a pure shadow But it was
a piece of twilight And her breast was keen with passion for him he was so
beautiful in his male stillness and mystery It was a certain pure effluence of
maleness like an aroma from his softly firmly moulded contours a certain rich
perfection of his presence that touched her with an ecstasy a thrill of pure
intoxication She loved to look at him For the present she did not want to
touch him to know the further satisfying substance of his living body He was
purely intangible yet so near Her hands lay on the paddle like slumber she
only wanted to see him like a crystal shadow to feel his essential presence
»Yes« he said vaguely »It is very beautiful«
He was listening to the faint near sounds the dropping of waterdrops from
the oarblades the slight drumming of the lanterns behind him as they rubbed
against one another, the occasional rustling of Gudruns full skirt an alien
land noise His mind was almost submerged he was almost transfused lapsed out
for the first time in his life into the things about him For he always kept
such a keen attentiveness concentrated and unyielding in himself Now he had
let go imperceptibly he was melting into oneness with the whole It was like
pure perfect sleep his first great sleep of life He had been so insistent so
guarded all his life But here was sleep and peace and perfect lapsing out
»Shall I row to the landingstage« asked Gudrun wistfully
»Anywhere« he answered »Let it drift«
»Tell me then if we are running into anything« she replied in that very
quiet toneless voice of sheer intimacy
»The lights will show« he said
So they drifted almost motionless in silence He wanted silence pure and
whole But she was uneasy yet for some word for some assurance
»Nobody will miss you« she asked anxious for some communication
»Miss me« he echoed »No Why«
»I wondered if anybody would be looking for you«
»Why should they look for me« And then he remembered his manners »But
perhaps you want to get back« he said in a changed voice
»No I dont want to get back« she replied »No I assure you«
»Youre quite sure its all right for you«
»Perfectly all right«
And again they were still The launch twanged and hooted somebody was
singing Then as if the night smashed suddenly there was a great shout a
confusion of shouting warring on the water then the horrid noise of paddles
reversed and churned violently
Gerald sat up and Gudrun looked at him in fear
»Somebody in the water« he said angrily and desperately looking keenly
across the dusk »Can you row up«
»Where to the launch« asked Gudrun in nervous panic
»Yes«
»Youll tell me if I dont steer straight« she said in nervous
apprehension
»You keep pretty level« he said and the canoe hastened forward
The shouting and the noise continued sounding horrid through the dusk over
the surface of the water
»Wasnt this bound to happen« said Gudrun with heavy hateful irony But he
hardly heard and she glanced over her shoulder to see her way The halfdark
waters were sprinkled with lovely bubbles of swaying lights the launch did not
look far off She was rocking her lights in the early night Gudrun rowed as
hard as she could But now that it was a serious matter she seemed uncertain
and clumsy in her stroke it was difficult to paddle swiftly She glanced at his
face He was looking fixedly into the darkness very keen and alert and single
in himself instrumental Her heart sank she seemed to die a death »Of
course« she said to herself »nobody will be drowned Of course they wont It
would be too extravagant and sensational« But her heart was cold because of
his sharp impersonal face It was as if he belonged naturally to dread and
catastrophe as if he were himself again
Then there came a childs voice a girls high piercing shriek
»Di Di Di Di Oh Di Oh Di Oh Di«
The blood ran cold in Gudruns veins
»Its Diana is it« muttered Gerald »The young monkey shed have to be up
to some of her tricks«
And he glanced again at the paddle the boat was not going quickly enough
for him It made Gudrun almost helpless at the rowing this nervous stress She
kept up with all her might Still the voices were calling and answering
»Where where There you are thats it Which No Nooo Damn it all
here here « Boats were hurrying from all directions to the scene coloured
lanterns could be seen waving close to the surface of the lake reflections
swaying after them in uneven haste The steamer hooted again for some unknown
reason Gudruns boat was travelling quickly the lanterns were swinging behind
Gerald
And then again came the childs high screaming voice with a note of
weeping and impatience in it now
»Di Oh Di Oh Di Di «
It was a terrible sound coming through the obscure air of the evening
»Youd be better if you were in bed Winnie« Gerald muttered to himself
He was stooping unlacing his shoes pushing them off with the foot Then he
threw his soft hat into the bottom of the boat
»You cant go into the water with your hurt hand« said Gudrun panting in
a low voice of horror
»What It wont hurt«
He had struggled out of his jacket and had dropped it between his feet He
sat bareheaded all in white now He felt the belt at his waist They were
nearing the launch which stood still big above them her myriad lamps making
lovely darts and sinuous running tongues of ugly red and green and yellow light
on the lustrous dark water under the shadow
»Oh get her out Oh Di darling Oh get her out Oh Daddy Oh Daddy« moaned
the childs voice in distraction Somebody was in the water with a lifebelt
Two boats paddled near their lanterns swinging ineffectually the boats nosing
round
»Hi there Rockley hi there«
»Mr Gerald« came the captains terrified voice »Miss Dianas in the
water«
»Anybody gone in for her« came Geralds sharp voice
»Young Doctor Brindell sir«
»Where«
»Cant see no signs of them sir Everybodys looking but theres nothing
so far«
There was a moments ominous pause
»Where did she go in«
»I think about where that boat is« came the uncertain answer »that one
with red and green lights«
»Row there« said Gerald quietly to Gudrun
»Get her out Gerald oh get her out« the childs voice was crying
anxiously He took no heed
»Lean back that way« said Gerald to Gudrun as he stood up in the frail
boat »She wont upset«
In another moment he had dropped clean down soft and plumb into the
water Gudrun was swaying violently in her boat the agitated water shook with
transient lights she realised that it was faintly moonlight and that he was
gone So it was possible to be gone A terrible sense of fatality robbed her of
all feeling and thought She knew he was gone out of the world there was merely
the same world and absence his absence The night seemed large and vacuous
Lanterns swayed here and there people were talking in an undertone on the
launch and in the boats She could hear Winifred moaning »Oh do find her
Gerald do find her« and someone trying to comfort the child Gudrun paddled
aimlessly here and there The terrible massive cold boundless surface of the
water terrified her beyond words Would he never come back She felt she must
jump into the water too to know the horror also
She started hearing someone say »There he is« She saw the movement of his
swimming like a waterrat And she rowed involuntarily to him But he was near
another boat a bigger one Still she rowed towards him She must be very near
She saw him he looked like a seal He looked like a seal as he took hold of
the side of the boat His fair hair was washed down on his round head his face
seemed to glisten suavely She could hear him panting
Then he clambered into the boat Oh and the beauty of the subjection of his
loins white and dimly luminous as he climbed over the side of the boat made
her want to die to die The beauty of his dim and luminous loins as he climbed
into the boat his back rounded and soft ah this was too much for her too
final a vision She knew it and it was fatal The terrible hopelessness of
fate and of beauty such beauty
He was not like a man to her he was an incarnation a great phase of life
She saw him press the water out of his face and look at the bandage on his
hand And she knew it was all no good and that she would never go beyond him
he was the final approximation of life to her
»Put the lights out we shall see better« came his voice sudden and
mechanical and belonging to the world of man She could scarcely believe there
was a world of man She leaned round and blew out her lanterns They were
difficult to blow out Everywhere the lights were gone save the coloured points
on the sides of the launch The blueygrey early night spread level around the
moon was overhead there were shadows of boats here and there
Again there was a splash and he was gone under Gudrun sat sick at heart
frightened of the great level surface of the water so heavy and deadly She
was so alone with the level unliving field of the water stretching beneath
her It was not a good isolation it was a terrible cold separation of
suspense She was suspended upon the surface of the insidious reality until such
time as she also should disappear beneath it
Then she knew by a stirring of voices that he had climbed out again into
a boat She sat wanting connection with him Strenuously she claimed her
connection with him across the invisible space of the water But round her
heart was an isolation unbearable through which nothing would penetrate
»Take the launch in Its no use keeping her there Get lines for the
dragging« came the decisive instrumental voice that was full of the sound of
the world
The launch began gradually to beat the waters
»Gerald Gerald« came the wild crying voice of Winifred He did not answer
Slowly the launch drifted round in a pathetic clumsy circle and slunk away to
the land retreating into the dimness The wash of her paddles grew duller
Gudrun rocked in her light boat and dipped the paddle automatically to steady
herself
»Gudrun« called Ursulas voice
»Ursula«
The boats of the two sisters pulled together
»Where is Gerald« said Gudrun
»Hes dived again« said Ursula plaintively »And I know he ought not with
his hurt hand and everything«
»Ill take him in home this time« said Birkin
The boats swayed again from the wash of steamer Gudrun and Ursula kept a
lookout for Gerald
»There he is« cried Ursula who had the sharpest eyes He had not been long
under Birkin pulled towards him Gudrun following He swam slowly and caught
hold of the boat with his wounded hand It slipped and he sank back
»Why dont you help him« cried Ursula sharply
He came again and Birkin leaned to help him into the boat Gudrun again
watched Gerald climb out of the water but this time slowly heavily with the
blind clambering motions of an amphibious beast clumsy Again the moon shone
with faint luminosity on his white wet figure on the stooping back and the
rounded loins But it looked defeated now his body it clambered and fell with
slow clumsiness He was breathing hoarsely too like an animal that is
suffering He sat slack and motionless in the boat his head blunt and blind
like a seals his whole appearance inhuman unknowing Gudrun shuddered as she
mechanically followed his boat Birkin rowed without speaking to the
landingstage
»Where are you going« Gerald asked suddenly as if just waking up
»Home« said Birkin
»Oh no« said Gerald imperiously »We cant go home while theyre in the
water Turn back again Im going to find them« The women were frightened his
voice was so imperative and dangerous almost mad not to be opposed
»No« said Birkin »You cant« There was a strange fluid compulsion in his
voice Gerald was silent in a battle of wills It was as if he would kill the
other man But Birkin rowed evenly and unswerving with an inhuman
inevitability
»Why should you interfere« said Gerald in hate
Birkin did not answer He rowed towards the land And Gerald sat mute like
a dumb beast panting his teeth chattering his arms inert his head like a
seals head
They came to the landingstage Wet and naked looking Gerald climbed up the
few steps There stood his father in the night
»Father« he said
»Yes my boy Go home and get those things off«
»We shant save them father« said Gerald
»Theres hope yet my boy«
»Im afraid not Theres no knowing where they are You cant find them And
theres a current as cold as hell«
»Well let the water out« said the father »Go home you and look to
yourself See that hes looked after Rupert« he added in a neutral voice
»Well father Im sorry Im sorry Im afraid its my fault But it cant
be helped Ive done what I could for the moment I could go on diving of
course not much though and not much use «
He moved away barefoot on the planks of the platform Then he trod on
something sharp
»Of course youve got no shoes on« said Birkin
»His shoes are here« cried Gudrun from below She was making fast her boat
Gerald waited for them to be brought to him Gudrun came with them He
pulled them on his feet
»If you once die« he said »then when its over its finished Why come to
life again Theres room under that water there for thousands«
»Two is enough« she said murmuring
He dragged on his second shoe He was shivering violently and his jaw shook
as he spoke
»Thats true« he said »maybe But its curious how much room there seems
a whole universe under there and as cold as hell youre as helpless as if your
head was cut off« He could scarcely speak he shook so violently »Theres one
thing about our family you know« he continued »Once anything goes wrong it
can never be put right again not with us Ive noticed it all my life you
cant put a thing right once it has gone wrong«
They were walking across the highroad to the house
»And do you know when you are down there it is so cold actually and so
endless so different really from what it is on top so endless you wonder how
it is so many are alive why were up here Are you going I shall see you
again shant I Goodnight and thank you Thank you very much«
The two girls waited a while to see if there were any hope The moon shone
clearly overhead with almost impertinent brightness the small dark boats
clustered on the water there were voices and subdued shouts But it was all to
no purpose Gudrun went home when Birkin returned
He was commissioned to open the sluice that let out the water from the lake
which was pierced at one end near the highroad thus serving as a reservoir to
supply with water the distant mines in case of necessity »Come with me« he
said to Ursula »and then I will walk home with you when Ive done this«
He called at the waterkeepers cottage and took the key of the sluice They
went through a little gate from the highroad to the head of the water where
was a great stone basin which received the overflow and a flight of stone steps
descended into the depths of the water itself At the head of the steps was the
lock of the sluicegate
The night was silvergrey and perfect save for the scattered restless sound
of voices The grey sheen of the moonlight caught the stretch of water dark
boats plashed and moved
But Ursulas mind ceased to be receptive everything was unimportant and
unreal
Birkin fixed the iron handle of the sluice and turned it with a wrench The
cogs began slowly to rise He turned and turned like a slave his white figure
became distinct Ursula looked away She could not bear to see him winding
heavily and laboriously bending and rising mechanically like a slave turning
the handle
Then a real shock to her there came a loud splashing of water from out of
the dark treefilled hollow beyond the road a splashing that deepened rapidly
to a harsh roar and then became a heavy booming noise of a great body of water
falling solidly all the time It occupied the whole of the night this great
steady booming of water everything was drowned within it drowned and lost
Ursula seemed to have to struggle for her life She put her hands over her ears
and looked at the high bland moon
»Cant we go now« she cried to Birkin who was watching the water on the
steps to see if it would get any lower It seemed to fascinate him He looked
at her and nodded
The little dark boats had moved nearer people were crowding curiously along
the hedge by the highroad to see what was to be seen Birkin and Ursula went
to the cottage with the key then turned their backs on the lake She was in
great haste She could not bear the terrible crushing boom of the escaping
water
»Do you think they are dead« she cried in a high voice to make herself
heard
»Yes« he replied
»Isnt it horrible«
He paid no heed They walked up the hill farther and farther away from the
noise
»Do you mind very much« she asked him
»I dont mind about the dead« he said »once they are dead The worst of it
is they cling on to the living and wont let go«
She pondered for a time
»Yes« she said »The fact of death doesnt really seem to matter much does
it«
»No« he said »What does it matter if Diana Crich is alive or dead«
»Doesnt it« she said shocked
»No why should it Better she were dead shell be much more real Shell
be positive in death In life she was a fretting negated thing«
»You are rather horrible« murmured Ursula
»No Id rather Diana Crich were dead Her living somehow was all wrong As
for the young man poor devil hell find his way out quickly instead of
slowly Death is all right nothing better«
»Yet you dont want to die« she challenged him
He was silent for a time Then he said in a voice that was frightening to
her in its change
»I should like to be through with it I should like to be through with the
death process«
»And arent you« asked Ursula nervously
They walked on for some way in silence under the trees Then he said
slowly as if afraid
»There is life which belongs to death and there is life which isnt death
One is tired of the life that belongs to death our kind of life But whether
it is finished God knows I want love that is like sleep like being born
again vulnerable as a baby that just comes into the world«
Ursula listened half attentive half avoiding what he said She seemed to
catch the drift of his statement and then she drew away She wanted to hear
but she did not want to be implicated She was reluctant to yield there where
he wanted her to yield as it were her very identity
»Why should love be like sleep« she asked sadly
»I dont know So that it is like death I do want to die from this life
and yet it is more than life itself One is delivered over like a naked infant
from the womb all the old defences and the old body gone and new air around
one that has never been breathed before«
She listened making out what he said She knew as well as he knew that
words themselves do not convey meaning that they are but a gesture we make a
dumb show like any other And she seemed to feel his gesture through her blood
and she drew back even though her desire sent her forward
»But« she said gravely »didnt you say you wanted something that was not
love something beyond love«
He turned in confusion There was always confusion in speech Yet it must be
spoken Whichever way one moved if one were to move forwards one must break a
way through And to know to give utterance was to break a way through the
walls of the prison as the infant in labour strives through the walls of the
womb There is no new movement now without the breaking through of the old
body deliberately in knowledge in the struggle to get out
»I dont want love« he said »I dont want to know you I want to be gone
out of myself and you to be lost to yourself so we are found different One
shouldnt talk when one is tired and wretched One Hamletises and it seems a
lie Only believe me when I show you a bit of healthy pride and insouciance I
hate myself serious«
»Why shouldnt you be serious« she said
He thought for a minute then he said sulkily
»I dont know« Then they walked on in silence at outs He was vague and
lost
»Isnt it strange« she said suddenly putting her hand on his arm with a
loving impulse »how we always talk like this I suppose we do love each other
in some way«
»Oh yes« he said »too much«
She laughed almost gaily
»Youd have to have it your own way wouldnt you« she teased »You could
never take it on trust«
He changed laughed softly and turned and took her in his arms in the
middle of the road
»Yes« he said softly
And he kissed her face and brow slowly gently with a sort of delicate
happiness which surprised her extremely and to which she could not respond
They were soft blind kisses perfect in their stillness Yet she held back from
them It was like strange moths very soft and silent settling on her from the
darkness of her soul She was uneasy She drew away
»Isnt somebody coming« she said
So they looked down the dark road then set off again walking towards
Beldover Then suddenly to show him she was no shallow prude she stopped and
held him tight hard against her and covered his face with hard fierce kisses
of passion In spite of his otherness the old blood beat up in him
»Not this not this« he whimpered to himself as the first perfect mood of
softness and sleeploveliness ebbed back away from the rushing of passion that
came up to his limbs and over his face as she drew him And soon he was a
perfect hard flame of passionate desire for her Yet in the small core of the
flame was an unyielding anguish of another thing But this also was lost he
only wanted her with an extreme desire that seemed inevitable as death beyond
question
Then satisfied and shattered fulfilled and destroyed he went home away
from her drifting vaguely through the darkness lapsed into the old fire of
burning passion Far away far away there seemed to be a small lament in the
darkness But what did it matter What did it matter what did anything matter
save this ultimate and triumphant experience of physical passion that had
blazed up anew like a new spell of life »I was becoming quite deadalive
nothing but a wordbag« he said in triumph scorning his other self Yet
somewhere far off and small the other hovered
The men were still dragging the lake when he got back He stood on the bank
and heard Geralds voice The water was still booming in the night the moon was
fair the hills beyond were elusive The lake was sinking There came the raw
smell of the banks in the night air
Up at Shortlands there were lights in the windows as if nobody had gone to
bed On the landingstage was the old doctor the father of the young man who
was lost He stood quite silent waiting Birkin also stood and watched Gerald
came up in a boat
»You still here Rupert« he said »We cant get them The bottom slopes
you know very steep The water lies between two very sharp slopes with little
branch valleys and God knows where the drift will take you It isnt as if it
was a level bottom You never know where you are with the dragging«
»Is there any need for you to be working« said Birkin »Wouldnt it be much
better if you went to bed«
»To bed Good God do you think I should sleep Well find em before I go
away from here«
»But the men would find them just the same without you why should you
insist«
Gerald looked up at him Then he put his hand affectionately on Birkins
shoulder saying
»Dont you bother about me Rupert If theres anybodys health to think
about its yours not mine How do you feel yourself«
»Very well But you you spoil your own chance of life you waste your best
self«
Gerald was silent for a moment Then he said
»Waste it What else is there to do with it«
»But leave this wont you You force yourself into horrors and put a
millstone of beastly memories round your neck Come away now«
»A millstone of beastly memories« Gerald repeated Then he put his hand
again affectionately on Birkins shoulder »God youve got such a telling way
of putting things Rupert you have«
Birkins heart sank He was irritated and weary of having a telling way of
putting things
»Wont you leave it Come over to my place« he urged as one urges a
drunken man
»No« said Gerald coaxingly his arm across the other mans shoulder
»Thanks very much Rupert I shall be glad to come tomorrow if thatll do
You understand dont you I want to see this job through But Ill come
tomorrow right enough Oh Id rather come and have a chat with you than
than do anything else I verily believe Yes I would You mean a lot to me
Rupert more than you know«
»What do I mean more than I know« asked Birkin irritably He was acutely
aware of Geralds hand on his shoulder And he did not want this altercation He
wanted the other man to come out of the ugly misery
»Ill tell you another time« said Gerald coaxingly
»Come along with me now I want you to come« said Birkin
There was a pause intense and real Birkin wondered why his own heart beat
so heavily Then Geralds fingers gripped hard and communicative into Birkins
shoulder as he said
»No Ill see this job through Rupert Thank you I know what you mean
Were all right you know you and me«
»I may be all right but Im sure youre not mucking about here« said
Birkin And he went away
The bodies of the dead were not recovered till towards dawn Diana had her
arms tight round the neck of the young man choking him
»She killed him« said Gerald
The moon sloped down the sky and sank at last The lake was sunk to quarter
size it had horrible raw banks of clay that smelled of raw rottenish water
Dawn roused faintly behind the eastern hill The water still boomed through the
sluice
As the birds were whistling for the first morning and the hills at the back
of the desolate lake stood radiant with the new mists there was a straggling
procession up to Shortlands men bearing the bodies on a stretcher Gerald going
beside them the two greybearded fathers following in silence Indoors the
family was all sitting up waiting Somebody must go to tell the mother in her
room The doctor in secret struggled to bring back his son till he himself was
exhausted
Over all the outlying district was a hush of dreadful excitement on that
Sunday morning The colliery people felt as if this catastrophe had happened
directly to themselves indeed they were more shocked and frightened than if
their own men had been killed Such a tragedy in Shortlands the high home of
the district One of the young mistresses persisting in dancing on the cabin
roof of the launch wilful young madam drowned in the midst of the festival
with the young doctor Everywhere on the Sunday morning the colliers wandered
about discussing the calamity At all the Sunday dinners of the people there
seemed a strange presence It was as if the angel of death were very near there
was a sense of the supernatural in the air The men had excited startled faces
the women looked solemn some of them had been crying The children enjoyed the
excitement at first There was an intensity in the air almost magical Did all
enjoy it Did all enjoy the thrill
Gudrun had wild ideas of rushing to comfort Gerald She was thinking all the
time of the perfect comforting reassuring thing to say to him She was shocked
and frightened but she put that away thinking of how she should deport herself
with Gerald act her part That was the real thrill how she should act her
part
Ursula was deeply and passionately in love with Birkin and she was capable
of nothing She was perfectly callous about all the talk of the accident but
her estranged air looked like trouble She merely sat by herself whenever she
could and longed to see him again She wanted him to come to the house she
would not have it otherwise he must come at once She was waiting for him She
stayed indoors all day waiting for him to knock at the door Every minute she
glanced automatically at the window He would be there
Chapter XV
Sunday Evening
As the day wore on the lifeblood seemed to ebb away from Ursula and within
the emptiness a heavy despair gathered Her passion seemed to bleed to death
and there was nothing She sat suspended in a state of complete nullity harder
to bear than death
»Unless something happens« she said to herself in the perfect lucidity of
final suffering »I shall die I am at the end of my line of life«
She sat crushed and obliterated in a darkness that was the border of death
She realised how all her life she had been drawing nearer and nearer to this
brink where there was no beyond from which one had to leap like Sappho into
the unknown The knowledge of the imminence of death was like a drug Darkly
without thinking at all she knew that she was near to death She had travelled
all her life along the line of fulfilment and it was nearly concluded She knew
all she had to know she had experienced all she had to experience she was
fulfilled in a kind of bitter ripeness there remained only to fall from the
tree into death And one must fulfil ones development to the end must carry
the adventure to its conclusion And the next step was over the border into
death So it was then There was a certain peace in the knowledge
After all when one was fulfilled one was happiest in falling into death
as a bitter fruit plunges in its ripeness downwards Death is a great
consummation a consummating experience It is a development from life That we
know while we are yet living What then need we think for further One can
never see beyond the consummation It is enough that death is a great and
conclusive experience Why should we ask what comes after the experience when
the experience is still unknown to us Let us die since the great experience is
the one that follows now upon all the rest death which is the next great
crisis in front of which we have arrived If we wait if we baulk the issue we
do but hang about the gates in undignified uneasiness There it is in front of
us as in front of Sappho the illimitable space Thereinto goes the journey
Have we not the courage to go on with our journey must we cry I darent On
ahead we will go into death and whatever death may mean If a man can see the
next step to be taken why should he fear the next but one Why ask about the
next but one Of the next step we are certain It is the step into death
»I shall die I shall quickly die« said Ursula to herself clear as if in
a trance clear calm and certain beyond human certainty But somewhere behind
in the twilight there was a bitter weeping and a hopelessness That must not be
attended to One must go where the unfaltering spirit goes there must be no
baulking the issue because of fear No baulking the issue no listening to the
lesser voices If the deepest desire be now to go on into the unknown of death
shall one forfeit the deepest truth for one more shallow
»Then let it end« she said to herself »It was a decision It was not a
question of taking ones life she would never kill herself that was repulsive
and violent It was a question of knowing the next step And the next step led
into the space of death Did it or was there «
Her thoughts drifted into unconsciousness she sat as if asleep beside the
fire And then the thought came back The space of death Could she give herself
to it Ah yes it was a sleep She had had enough So long she had held out
and resisted Now was the time to relinquish not to resist any more
In a kind of spiritual trance she yielded she gave way and all was dark
She could feel within the darkness the terrible assertion of her body the
unutterable anguish of dissolution the only anguish that is too much the
faroff awful nausea of dissolution set in within the body
»Does the body correspond so immediately with the spirit« she asked
herself And she knew with the clarity of ultimate knowledge that the body is
only one of the manifestations of the spirit the transmutation of the integral
spirit is the transmutation of the physical body as well Unless I set my will
unless I absolve myself from the rhythm of life fix myself and remain static
cut off from living absolved within my own will But better die than live
mechanically a life that is a repetition of repetitions To die is to move on
with the invisible To die is also a joy a joy of submitting to that which is
greater than the known namely the pure unknown That is a joy But to live
mechanised and cut off within the motion of the will to live as an entity
absolved from the unknown that is shameful and ignominious There is no
ignominy in death There is complete ignominy in an unreplenished mechanised
life Life indeed may be ignominious shameful to the soul But death is never a
shame Death itself like the illimitable space, is beyond our sullying
Tomorrow was Monday Monday the beginning of another schoolweek Another
shameful barren schoolweek mere routine and mechanical activity Was not the
adventure of death infinitely preferable Was not death infinitely more lovely
and noble than such a life A life of barren routine without inner meaning
without any real significance How sordid life was how it was a terrible shame
to the soul to live now How much cleaner and more dignified to be dead One
could not bear any more of this shame of sordid routine and mechanical nullity
One might come to fruit in death She had had enough For where was life to be
found No flowers grow upon busy machinery there is no sky to a routine there
is no space to a rotary motion And all life was a rotary motion mechanised
cut off from reality There was nothing to look for from life it was the same
in all countries and all peoples The only window was death One could look out
on to the great dark sky of death with emotion as one had looked out of the
class-room window as a child and seen perfect freedom in the outside Now one
was not a child and one knew that the soul was a prisoner within this sordid
vast edifice of life and there was no escape save in death
But what a joy What a gladness to think that whatever humanity did it
could not seize hold of the kingdom of death to nullify that The sea they
turned into a murderous alley and a soiled road of commerce disputed like the
dirty land of a city every inch of it The air they claimed too shared it up
parcelled it out to certain owners they trespassed in the air to fight for it
Everything was gone walled in with spikes on top of the walls and one must
ignominiously creep between the spiky walls through a labyrinth of life
But the great dark illimitable kingdom of death there humanity was put to
scorn So much they could do upon earth the multifarious little gods that they
were But the kingdom of death put them all to scorn they dwindled into their
true vulgar silliness in face of it
How beautiful how grand and perfect death was how good to look forward to
There one would wash off all the lies and ignominy and dirt that had been put
upon one here a perfect bath of cleanness and glad refreshment and go unknown
unquestioned unabased After all one was rich if only in the promise of
perfect death It was a gladness above all that this remained to look forward
to the pure inhuman otherness of death
Whatever life might be it could not take away death the inhuman
transcendent death Oh let us ask no question of it what it is or is not To
know is human and in death we do not know we are not human And the joy of
this compensates for all the bitterness of knowledge and the sordidness of our
humanity In death we shall not be human and we shall not know The promise of
this is our heritage we look forward like heirs to their majority
Ursula sat quite still and quite forgotten alone by the fire in the
drawingroom The children were playing in the kitchen all the others were gone
to church And she was gone into the ultimate darkness of her own soul
She was startled by hearing the bell ring away in the kitchen the children
came scudding along the passage in delicious alarm
»Ursula theres somebody«
»I know Dont be silly« she replied She too was startled almost
frightened She dared hardly go to the door
Birkin stood on the threshold his raincoat turned up to his ears He had
come now now she was gone far away She was aware of the rainy night behind
him
»Oh is it you« she said
»I am glad you are at home« he said in a low voice entering the house
»They are all gone to church«
He took off his coat and hung it up The children were peeping at him round
the corner
»Go and get undressed now Billy and Dora« said Ursula »Mother will be
back soon and shell be disappointed if youre not in bed«
The children in a sudden angelic mood retired without a word Birkin and
Ursula went into the drawingroom The fire burned low He looked at her and
wondered at the luminous delicacy of her beauty and the wide shining of her
eyes He watched from a distance with wonder in his heart she seemed
transfigured with light
»What have you been doing all day« he asked her
»Only sitting about« she said
He looked at her There was a change in her But she was separate from him
She remained apart in a kind of brightness They both sat silent in the soft
light of the lamp He felt he ought to go away again he ought not to have come
Still he did not gather enough resolution to move But he was de trop her mood
was absent and separate
Then there came the voices of the two children calling shyly outside the
door softly with selfexcited timidity
»Ursula Ursula«
She rose and opened the door On the threshold stood the two children in
their long nightgowns with wideeyed angelic faces They were being very good
for the moment playing the rôle perfectly of two obedient children
»Shall you take us to bed« said Billy in a loud whisper
»Why you are angels tonight« she said softly »Wont you come and say
goodnight to Mr Birkin«
The children merged shyly into the room on bare feet Billys face was wide
and grinning but there was a great solemnity of being good in his round blue
eyes Dora peeping from the floss of her fair hair hung back like some tiny
Dryad that has no soul
»Will you say goodnight to me« asked Birkin in a voice that was strangely
soft and smooth Dora drifted away at once like a leaf lifted on a breath of
wind But Billy went softly forward slow and willing lifting his pinchedup
mouth implicitly to be kissed Ursula watched the full gathered lips of the man
gently touch those of the boy so gently Then Birkin lifted his fingers and
touched the boys round confiding cheek with a faint touch of love Neither
spoke Billy seemed angelic like a cherub boy or like an acolyte Birkin was a
tall grave angel looking down to him
»Are you going to be kissed« Ursula broke in speaking to the little girl
But Dora edged away like a tiny Dryad that will not be touched
»Wont you say goodnight to Mr Birkin Go hes waiting for you« said
Ursula But the girlchild only made a little motion away from him
»Silly Dora silly Dora« said Ursula
Birkin felt some mistrust and antagonism in the small child He could not
understand it
»Come then« said Ursula »Let us go before mother comes«
»Wholl hear us say our prayers« asked Billy anxiously
»Whom you like«
»Wont you«
»Yes I will«
»Ursula«
»Well Billy«
»Is it whom you like«
»Thats it«
»Well what is whom«
»Its the accusative of who«
There was a moments contemplative silence then the confiding
»Is it«
Birkin smiled to himself as he sat by the fire When Ursula came down he sat
motionless with his arms on his knees She saw him how he was motionless and
ageless like some crouching idol some image of a deathly religion He looked
round at her and his face very pale and unreal seemed to gleam with a
whiteness almost phosphorescent
»Dont you feel well« she asked in indefinable repulsion
»I hadnt thought about it«
»But dont you know without thinking about it«
He looked at her his eyes dark and swift and he saw her revulsion He did
not answer her question
»Dont you know whether you are unwell or not without thinking about it«
she persisted
»Not always« he said coldly
»But dont you think thats very wicked«
»Wicked«
»Yes I think its criminal to have so little connection with your own body
that you dont even know when you are ill«
He looked at her darkly
»Yes« he said
»Why dont you stay in bed when you are seedy You look perfectly ghastly«
»Offensively so« he asked ironically
»Yes quite offensive Quite repelling«
»Ah Well thats unfortunate«
»And its raining and its a horrible night Really you shouldnt be
forgiven for treating your body like it you ought to suffer a man who takes
as little notice of his body as that«
» takes as little notice of his body as that« he echoed mechanically
This cut her short and there was silence
The others came in from church and the two had the girls to face then the
mother and Gudrun and then the father and the boy
»Goodevening« said Brangwen faintly surprised »Came to see me did you«
»No« said Birkin »not about anything in particular that is The day was
dismal and I thought you wouldnt mind if I called in«
»It has been a depressing day« said Mrs Brangwen sympathetically At that
moment the voices of the children were heard calling from upstairs »Mother
Mother« She lifted her face and answered mildly into the distance »I shall
come up to you in a minute Doysie« Then to Birkin »There is nothing fresh at
Shortlands I suppose Ah« she sighed »no poor things I should think not«
»Youve been over there today I suppose« asked the father
»Gerald came round to tea with me and I walked back with him The house is
overexcited and unwholesome I thought«
»I should think they were people who hadnt much restraint« said Gudrun
»Or too much« Birkin answered
»Oh yes Im sure« said Gudrun almost vindictively »one or the other«
»They all feel they ought to behave in some unnatural fashion« said Birkin
»When people are in grief they would do better to cover their faces and keep in
retirement as in the old days«
»Certainly« cried Gudrun flushed and inflammable »What can be worse than
this public grief what is more horrible more false If grief is not private
and hidden what is«
»Exactly« he said »I felt ashamed when I was there and they were all going
about in a lugubrious false way feeling they must not be natural or ordinary«
»Well « said Mrs Brangwen offended at this criticism »it isnt so easy
to bear a trouble like that«
And she went upstairs to the children
He remained only a few minutes longer then took his leave When he was gone
Ursula felt such a poignant hatred of him that all her brain seemed turned into
a sharp crystal of fine hatred Her whole nature seemed sharpened and
intensified into a pure dart of hate She could not imagine what it was It
merely took hold of her the most poignant and ultimate hatred pure and clear
and beyond thought She could not think of it at all she was translated beyond
herself It was like a possession She felt she was possessed And for several
days she went about possessed by this exquisite force of hatred against him It
surpassed anything she had ever known before it seemed to throw her out of the
world into some terrible region where nothing of her old life held good She was
quite lost and dazed really dead to her own life
It was so completely incomprehensible and irrational She did not know why
she hated him her hate was quite abstract She had only realised with a shock
that stunned her that she was overcome by this pure transportation He was the
enemy fine as a diamond and as hard and jewellike the quintessence of all
that was inimical
She thought of his face white and purely wrought and of his eyes that had
such a dark constant will of assertion and she touched her own forehead to
feel if she were mad she was so transfigured in white flame of essential hate
It was not temporal her hatred she did not hate him for this or for that
she did not want to do anything to him to have any connection with him Her
relation was ultimate and utterly beyond words the hate was so pure and
gemlike It was as if he were a beam of essential enmity a beam of light that
did not only destroy her but denied her altogether revoked her whole world
She saw him as a clear stroke of uttermost contradiction a strange gemlike
being whose existence defined her own nonexistence When she heard he was ill
again her hatred only intensified itself a few degrees if that were possible
It stunned her and annihilated her but she could not escape it She could not
escape this transfiguration of hatred that had come upon her
Chapter XVI
Man to Man
He lay sick and unmoved in pure opposition to everything He knew how near to
breaking was the vessel that held his life He knew also how strong and durable
it was And he did not care Better a thousand times take ones chance with
death than accept a life one did not want But best of all to persist and
persist and persist for ever till one were satisfied in life
He knew that Ursula was referred back to him He knew his life rested with
her But he would rather not live than accept the love she proffered The old
way of love seemed a dreadful bondage a sort of conscription What it was in
him he did not know but the thought of love marriage and children and a life
lived together in the horrible privacy of domestic and connubial satisfaction
was repulsive He wanted something clearer more open cooler as it were The
hot narrow intimacy between man and wife was abhorrent The way they shut their
doors these married people and shut themselves into their own exclusive
alliance with each other even in love disgusted him It was a whole community
of mistrustful couples insulated in private houses or private rooms always in
couples and no further life no further immediate no disinterested
relationship admitted a kaleidoscope of couples disjoined separatist
meaningless entities of married couples True he hated promiscuity even worse
than marriage and a liaison was only another kind of coupling reactionary from
the legal marriage Reaction was a greater bore than action
On the whole he hated sex it was such a limitation It was sex that turned
a man into a broken half of a couple the woman into the other broken half And
he wanted to be single in himself the woman single in herself He wanted sex to
revert to the level of the other appetites to be regarded as a functional
process not as a fulfilment He believed in sex marriage But beyond this he
wanted a further conjunction where man had being and woman had being two pure
beings each constituting the freedom of the other balancing each other like
two poles of one force like two angels or two demons
He wanted so much to be free not under the compulsion of any need for
unification or tortured by unsatisfied desire Desire and aspiration should
find their object without all this torture as now in a world of plenty of
water simple thirst is inconsiderable satisfied almost unconsciously And he
wanted to be with Ursula as free as with himself single and clear and cool yet
balanced polarised with her The merging the clutching the mingling of love
was become madly abhorrent to him
But it seemed to him woman was always so horrible and clutching she had
such a lust for possession a greed of self-importance in love She wanted to
have to own to control to be dominant Everything must be referred back to
her to Woman the Great Mother of everything out of whom proceeded everything
and to whom everything must finally be rendered up
It filled him with almost insane fury this calm assumption of the Magna
Mater that all was hers because she had borne it Man was hers because she had
borne him A Mater Dolorosa she had borne him a Magna Mater she now claimed
him again soul and body sex meaning and all He had a horror of the Magna
Mater she was detestable
She was on a very high horse again was woman the Great Mother Did he not
know it in Hermione Hermione the humble the subservient what was she all the
while but the Mater Dolorosa in her subservience claiming with horrible
insidious arrogance and female tyranny her own again claiming back the man she
had borne in suffering By her very suffering and humility she bound her son
with chains she held him her everlasting prisoner
And Ursula Ursula was the same or the inverse She too was the awful
arrogant queen of life as if she were a queen bee on whom all the rest
depended He saw the yellow flare in her eyes he knew the unthinkable
overweening assumption of primacy in her She was unconscious of it herself She
was only too ready to knock her head on the ground before a man But this was
only when she was so certain of her man that she could worship him as a woman
worships her own infant with a worship of perfect possession
It was intolerable this possession at the hands of woman Always a man must
be considered as the brokenoff fragment of a woman and the sex was the still
aching scar of the laceration Man must be added on to a woman before he had
any real place or wholeness
And why Why should we consider ourselves men and women as broken
fragments of one whole It is not true We are not broken fragments of one
whole Rather we are the singling away into purity and clear being of things
that were mixed Rather the sex is that which remains in us of the mixed the
unresolved And passion is the further separating of this mixture that which is
manly being taken into the being of the man that which is womanly passing to
the woman till the two are clear and whole as angels the admixture of sex in
the highest sense surpassed leaving two single beings constellated together
like two stars
In the old age before sex was we were mixed each one a mixture The
process of singling into individuality resulted into the great polarisation of
sex The womanly drew to one side the manly to the other But the separation
was imperfect even then And so our worldcycle passes There is now to come the
new day when we are beings each of us fulfilled in difference The man is pure
man the woman pure woman they are perfectly polarised But there is no longer
any of the horrible merging mingling selfabnegation of love There is only the
pure duality of polarisation each one free from any contamination of the other
In each the individual is primal sex is subordinate but perfectly polarised
Each has a single separate being with its own laws The man has his pure
freedom the woman hers Each acknowledges the perfection of the polarised
sexcircuit Each admits the different nature in the other
So Birkin meditated whilst he was ill He liked sometimes to be ill enough
to take to his bed For then he got better very quickly and things came to him
clear and sure
Whilst he was laid up Gerald came to see him The two men had a deep
uneasy feeling for each other Geralds eyes were quick and restless his whole
manner tense and impatient he seemed strung up to some activity According to
conventionality he wore black clothes he looked formal handsome and comme il
faut His hair was fair almost to whiteness sharp like splinters of light his
face was keen and ruddy his body seemed full of northern energy
Gerald really loved Birkin though he never quite believed in him Birkin
was too unreal clever whimsical wonderful but not practical enough Gerald
felt that his own understanding was much sounder and safer Birkin was
delightful a wonderful spirit but after all not to be taken seriously not
quite to be counted as a man among men
»Why are you laid up again« he asked kindly taking the sick mans hand It
was always Gerald who was protective offering the warm shelter of his physical
strength
»For my sins I suppose« Birkin said smiling a little ironically
»For your sins Yes probably that is so You should sin less and keep
better in health«
»Youd better teach me«
He looked at Gerald with ironic eyes
»How are things with you« asked Birkin
»With me« Gerald looked at Birkin saw he was serious and a warm light
came into his eyes
»I dont know that theyre any different I dont see how they could be
Theres nothing to change«
»I suppose you are conducting the business as successfully as ever and
ignoring the demand of the soul«
»Thats it« said Gerald »At least as far as the business is concerned I
couldnt say about the soul Im sure«
»No«
»Surely you dont expect me to« laughed Gerald
»No How are the rest of your affairs progressing apart from the business«
»The rest of my affairs What are those I couldnt say I dont know what
you refer to«
»Yes you do« said Birkin »Are you gloomy or cheerful And what about
Gudrun Brangwen«
»What about her« A confused look came over Gerald »Well« he added »I
dont know I can only tell you she gave me a hit over the face last time I saw
her«
»A hit over the face What for«
»That I couldnt tell you either«
»Really But when«
»The night of the party when Diana was drowned She was driving the cattle
up the hill and I went after her you remember«
»Yes I remember But what made her do that You didnt definitely ask her
for it I suppose«
»I No not that I know of I merely said to her that it was dangerous to
drive those Highland bullocks as it is She turned in such a way and said I
suppose you think Im afraid of you and your cattle dont you So I asked her
why and for answer she flung me a backhander across the face«
Birkin laughed quickly as if it pleased him Gerald looked at him
wondering and began to laugh as well saying
»I didnt laugh at the time I assure you I was never so taken aback in my
life«
»And werent you furious«
»Furious I should think I was Id have murdered her for two pins«
»Hm« ejaculated Birkin »Poor Gudrun wouldnt she suffer afterwards for
having given herself away« He was hugely delighted
»Would she suffer« asked Gerald also amused now
Both men smiled in malice and amusement
»Badly I should think seeing how selfconscious she is«
»She is selfconscious is she Then what made her do it For I certainly
think it was quite uncalledfor and quite unjustified«
»I suppose it was a sudden impulse«
»Yes but how do you account for her having such an impulse Id done her no
harm«
Birkin shook his head
»The Amazon suddenly came up in her I suppose« he said
»Well« replied Gerald »Id rather it had been the Orinoco«
They both laughed at the poor joke Gerald was thinking how Gudrun had said
she would strike the last blow too But some reserve made him keep this back
from Birkin
»And you resent it« Birkin asked
»I dont resent it I dont care a tinkers curse about it« He was silent a
moment then he added laughing »No Ill see it through thats all She
seemed sorry afterwards«
»Did she Youve not met since that night«
Geralds face clouded
»No« he said »Weve been you can imagine how its been since the
accident«
»Yes Is it calming down«
»I dont know Its a shock of course But I dont believe mother minds I
really dont believe she takes any notice And whats so funny she used to be
all for the children nothing mattered nothing whatever mattered but the
children And now she doesnt take any more notice than if it was one of the
servants«
»No Did it upset you very much«
»Its a shock But I dont feel it very much really I dont feel any
different Weve all got to die and it doesnt seem to make any great
difference anyhow whether you die or not I cant feel any grief you know It
leaves me cold I cant quite account for it«
»You dont care if you die or not« asked Birkin
Gerald looked at him with eyes blue as the bluefibred steel of a weapon He
felt awkward but indifferent As a matter of fact, he did care terribly with a
great fear
»Oh« he said »I dont want to die why should I But I never trouble The
question doesnt seem to be on the carpet for me at all It doesnt interest me
you know«
»Timor mortis conturbat me« quoted Birkin adding »No death doesnt
really seem the point any more It curiously doesnt concern one Its like an
ordinary tomorrow«
Gerald looked closely at his friend The eyes of the two men met and an
unspoken understanding was exchanged
Gerald narrowed his eyes his face was cool and unscrupulous as he looked at
Birkin impersonally with a vision that ended in a point in space, strangely
keeneyed and yet blind
»If death isnt the point« he said in a strangely abstract cold fine
voice »what is« He sounded as if he had been found out
»What is« reechoed Birkin And there was a mocking silence
»Theres a long way to go after the point of intrinsic death before we
disappear« said Birkin
»There is« said Gerald »But what sort of way« He seemed to press the
other man for knowledge which he himself knew far better than Birkin did
»Right down the slopes of degeneration mystic universal degeneration
There are many stages of pure degradation to go through agelong We live on
long after our death and progressively in progressive devolution«
Gerald listened with a faint fine smile on his face all the time as if
somewhere he knew so much better than Birkin all about this as if his own
knowledge were direct and personal whereas Birkins was a matter of observation
and inference not quite hitting the nail on the head though aiming near
enough at it But he was not going to give himself away If Birkin could get at
the secrets let him Gerald would never help him Gerald would be a dark horse
to the end
»Of course« he said with a startling change of conversation »it is father
who really feels it It will finish him For him the world collapses All his
care now is for Winnie he must save Winnie He says she ought to be sent away
to school but she wont hear of it and hell never do it Of course she is in
rather a queer way Were all of us curiously bad at living We can do things
but we cant get on with life at all Its curious a family failing«
»She oughtnt to be sent away to school« said Birkin who was considering a
new proposition
»She oughtnt Why«
»Shes a queer child a special child more special even than you And in
my opinion special children should never be sent away to school Only moderately
ordinary children should be sent to school so it seems to me«
»Im inclined to think just the opposite I think it would probably make her
more normal if she went away and mixed with other children«
»She wouldnt mix you see You never really mixed did you And she
wouldnt be willing even to pretend to Shes proud and solitary and naturally
apart If she has a single nature why do you want to make her gregarious«
»No I dont want to make her anything But I think school would be good for
her«
»Was it good for you«
Geralds eyes narrowed uglily School had been torture to him Yet he had
not questioned whether one should go through this torture He seemed to believe
in education through subjection and torment
»I hated it at the time but I can see it was necessary« he said »It
brought me into line a bit and you cant live unless you do come into line
somewhere«
»Well« said Birkin »I begin to think that you cant live unless you keep
entirely out of the line Its no good trying to toe the line when your one
impulse is to smash up the line Winnie is a special nature and for special
natures you must give a special world«
»Yes but wheres your special world« said Gerald
»Make it Instead of chopping yourself down to fit the world chop the world
down to fit yourself As a matter of fact, two exceptional people make another
world You and I we make another separate world You dont want a world same
as your brothersinlaw Its just the special quality you value Do you want to
be normal or ordinary Its a lie You want to be free and extraordinary in an
extraordinary world of liberty«
Gerald looked at Birkin with subtle eyes of knowledge. But he would never
openly admit what he felt He knew more than Birkin in one direction much
more And this gave him his gentle love for the other man as if Birkin were in
some way young innocent childlike so amazingly clever but incurably
innocent
»Yet you are so banal as to consider me chiefly a freak« said Birkin
pointedly
»A freak« exclaimed Gerald startled And his face opened suddenly as if
lighted with simplicity as when a flower opens out of the cunning bud »No I
never consider you a freak« And he watched the other man with strange eyes
that Birkin could not understand »I feel« Gerald continued »that there is
always an element of uncertainty about you perhaps you are uncertain about
yourself But Im never sure of you You can go away and change as easily as if
you had no soul«
He looked at Birkin with penetrating eyes Birkin was amazed He thought he
had all the soul in the world He stared in amazement And Gerald watching saw
the amazing attractive goodliness of his eyes a young spontaneous goodness
that attracted the other man infinitely yet filled him with bitter chagrin
because he mistrusted it so much He knew Birkin could do without him could
forget and not suffer This was always present in Geralds consciousness
filling him with bitter unbelief this consciousness of the young animallike
spontaneity of detachment It seemed almost like hypocrisy and lying sometimes
oh often on Birkins part to talk so deeply and importantly
Quite other things were going through Birkins mind Suddenly he saw himself
confronted with another problem the problem of love and eternal conjunction
between two men Of course this was necessary it had been a necessity inside
himself all his life to love a man purely and fully Of course he had been
loving Gerald all along and all along denying it
He lay in the bed and wondered whilst his friend sat beside him lost in
brooding Each man was gone in his own thoughts
»You know how the old German knights used to swear a Blutbrüderschaft« he
said to Gerald with quite a new happy activity in his eyes
»Make a little wound in their arms and rub each others blood into the
cut« said Gerald
»Yes and swear to be true to each other of one blood all their lives
That is what we ought to do No wounds that is obsolete But we ought to swear
to love each other you and I implicitly and perfectly finally without any
possibility of going back on it«
He looked at Gerald with clear happy eyes of discovery Gerald looked down
at him attracted so deeply bondaged in fascinated attraction that he was
mistrustful resenting the bondage hating the attraction
»We will swear to each other one day shall we« pleaded Birkin »We will
swear to stand by each other be true to each other ultimately infallibly
given to each other organically without possibility of taking back«
Birkin sought hard to express himself But Gerald hardly listened His face
shone with a certain luminous pleasure He was pleased But he kept his reserve
He held himself back
»Shall we swear to each other one day« said Birkin putting out his hand
towards Gerald
Gerald just touched the extended fine living hand as if withheld and
afraid
»Well leave it till I understand it better« he said in a voice of excuse
Birkin watched him A little sharp disappointment perhaps a touch of
contempt came into his heart
»Yes« he said »You must tell me what you think later You know what I
mean Not sloppy emotionalism An impersonal union that leaves one free«
They lapsed both into silence Birkin was looking at Gerald all the time He
seemed now to see not the physical animal man which he usually saw in Gerald
and which usually he liked so much but the man himself complete and as if
fated doomed limited This strange sense of fatality in Gerald as if he were
limited to one form of existence one knowledge one activity a sort of fatal
halfness which to himself seemed wholeness always overcame Birkin after their
moments of passionate approach and filled him with a sort of contempt or
boredom It was the insistence on the limitation which so bored Birkin in
Gerald Gerald could never fly away from himself in real indifferent gaiety He
had a clog a sort of monomania
There was silence for a time Then Birkin said in a lighter tone letting
the stress of the contact pass
»Cant you get a good governess for Winifred somebody exceptional«
»Hermione Roddice suggested we should ask Gudrun to teach her to draw and to
model in clay You know Winnie is astonishingly clever with that plasticine
stuff Hermione declares she is an artist« Gerald spoke in the usual animated
chatty manner as if nothing unusual had passed But Birkins manner was full of
reminder
»Really I didnt know that Oh well then if Gudrun would teach her it
would be perfect couldnt be anything better if Winifred is an artist
Because Gudrun somewhere is one And every true artist is the salvation of every
other«
»I thought they got on so badly as a rule«
»Perhaps But only artists produce for each other the world that is fit to
live in If you can arrange that for Winifred it is perfect«
»But you think she wouldnt come«
»I dont know Gudrun is rather selfopinionated She wont go cheap
anywhere Or if she does shell pretty soon take herself back So whether she
would condescend to do private teaching particularly here in Beldover I dont
know But it would be just the thing Winifred has got a special nature And if
you can put into her way the means of being selfsufficient that is the best
thing possible Shell never get on with the ordinary life You find it
difficult enough yourself and she is several skins thinner than you are It is
awful to think what her life will be like unless she does find a means of
expression some way of fulfilment You can see what mere leaving it to fate
brings You can see how much marriage is to be trusted to look at your own
mother«
»Do you think mother is abnormal«
»No I think she only wanted something more or other than the common run of
life And not getting it she has gone wrong perhaps«
»After producing a brood of wrong children« said Gerald gloomily
»No more wrong than any of the rest of us« Birkin replied »The most normal
people have the worst subterranean selves take them one by one«
»Sometimes I think it is a curse to be alive« said Gerald with sudden
impotent anger
»Well« said Birkin »why not Let it be a curse sometimes to be alive at
other times it is anything but a curse Youve got plenty of zest in it really«
»Less than youd think« said Gerald revealing a strange poverty in his
look at the other man
There was silence each thinking his own thoughts
»I dont see what she has to distinguish between teaching at the Grammar
School and coming to teach Win« said Gerald
»The difference between a public servant and a private one The only
nobleman today king and only aristocrat is the public the public You are
quite willing to serve the public but to be a private tutor «
»I dont want to serve either «
»No And Gudrun will probably feel the same«
Gerald thought for a few minutes Then he said
»At all events father wont make her feel like a private servant He will
be fussy and grateful enough«
»So he ought And so ought all of you Do you think you can hire a woman
like Gudrun Brangwen with money She is your equal like anything probably your
superior«
»Is she« said Gerald
»Yes and if you havent the guts to know it I hope shell leave you to
your own devices«
»Nevertheless« said Gerald »if she is my equal I wish she werent a
teacher because I dont think teachers as a rule are my equal«
»Nor do I damn them But am I a teacher because I teach or a parson
because I preach«
Gerald laughed He was always uneasy on this score He did not want to claim
social superiority yet he would not claim intrinsic personal superiority
because he would never base his standard of values on pure being So he wobbled
upon a tacit assumption of social standing Now Birkin wanted him to accept the
fact of intrinsic difference between human beings which he did not intend to
accept It was against his social honour his principle He rose to go
»Ive been neglecting my business all this while« he said smiling
»I ought to have reminded you before« Birkin replied laughing and mocking
»I knew youd say something like that« laughed Gerald rather uneasily
»Did you«
»Yes Rupert It wouldnt do for us all to be like you are we should soon
be in the cart When I am above the world I shall ignore all businesses«
»Of course were not in the cart now« said Birkin satirically
»Not as much as you make out At any rate we have enough to eat and drink
«
»And be satisfied« added Birkin
Gerald came near the bed and stood looking down at Birkin whose throat was
exposed whose tossed hair fell attractively on the warm brow above the eyes
that were so unchallenged and still in the satirical face Gerald fulllimbed
and turgid with energy stood unwilling to go he was held by the presence of
the other man He had not the power to go away
»So« said Birkin »Goodbye« And he reached out his hand from under the
bedclothes smiling with a glimmering look
»Goodbye« said Gerald taking the warm hand of his friend in a firm grasp
»I shall come again I miss you down at the mill«
»Ill be there in a few days« said Birkin
The eyes of the two men met again Geralds that were keen as a hawks
were suffused now with warm light and with unadmitted love Birkin looked back
as out of a darkness unsounded and unknown yet with a kind of warmth that
seemed to flow over Geralds brain like a fertile sleep
»Goodbye then Theres nothing I can do for you«
»Nothing thanks«
Birkin watched the blackclothed form of the other man move out of the door
the bright head was gone he turned over to sleep
Chapter XVII
The Industrial Magnate
In Beldover there was both for Ursula and for Gudrun an interval If seemed to
Ursula as if Birkin had gone out of her for the time he had lost his
significance he scarcely mattered in her world She had her own friends her
own activities her own life She turned back to the old ways with zest away
from him
And Gudrun after feeling every moment in all her veins conscious of Gerald
Crich connected even physically with him was now almost indifferent to the
thought of him She was nursing new schemes for going away and trying a new form
of life All the time there was something in her urging her to avoid the final
establishing of a relationship with Gerald She felt it would be wiser and
better to have no more than a casual acquaintance with him
She had a scheme for going to St Petersburg where she had a friend who was
a sculptor like herself and who lived with a wealthy Russian whose hobby was
jewelmaking The emotional rather rootless life of the Russians appealed to
her She did not want to go to Paris Paris was dry and essentially boring She
would like to go to Rome Munich Vienna or to St Petersburg or Moscow She
had a friend in St Petersburg and a friend in Munich To each of these she
wrote asking about rooms
She had a certain amount of money She had come home partly to save and now
she had sold several pieces of work she had been praised in various shows She
knew she could become quite the go if she went to London But she knew London
she wanted something else She had seventy pounds of which nobody knew
anything She would move soon as soon as she heard from her friends Her
nature in spite of her apparent placidity and calm was profoundly restless
The sisters happened to call in a cottage in Willey Green to buy honey Mrs
Kirk a stout pale sharpnosed woman sly honied with something shrewish and
catlike beneath asked the girls into her too cosy too tidy kitchen There was
a catlike comfort and cleanliness everywhere
»Yes Miss Brangwen« she said in her slightly whining insinuating voice
»and how do you like being back in the old place then«
Gudrun whom she addressed hated her at once
»I dont care for it« she replied abruptly
»You dont Ay well I suppose you found a difference from London You like
life and big grand places Some of us has to be content with Willey Green and
Beldover And what do you think of our Grammar School as theres so much talk
about«
»What do I think of it« Gudrun looked round at her slowly »Do you mean do
I think its a good school«
»Yes What is your opinion of it«
»I do think its a good school«
Gudrun was very cold and repelling She knew the common people hated the
school
»Ay you do then Ive heard so much one way and the other Its nice to
know what those thats in it feel But opinions vary dont they Mr Crich up
at Highclose is all for it Ay poor man Im afraid hes not long for this
world Hes very poorly«
»Is he worse« asked Ursula
»Eh yes since they lost Miss Diana Hes gone off to a shadow Poor man
hes had a world of trouble«
»Has he« asked Gudrun faintly ironic
»He has a world of trouble And as nice and kind a gentleman as ever you
could wish to meet His children dont take after him«
»I suppose they take after their mother« said Ursula
»In many ways« Mrs Kirk lowered her voice a little »She was a proud
haughty lady when she came into these parts my word she was that She mustnt
be looked at and it was worth your life to speak to her« The woman made a dry
sly face
»Did you know her when she was first married«
»Yes I knew her I nursed three of her children And proper little terrors
they were little fiends that Gerald was a demon if ever there was one a
proper demon ay at six months old« A curious malicious sly tone came into
the womans voice
»Really« said Gudrun
»That wilful masterful hed mastered one nurse at six months Kick and
scream and struggle like a demon Manys the time Ive pinched his little
bottom for him when he was a child in arms Ay and hed have been better if
hed had it pinched oftener But she wouldnt have them corrected noo
wouldnt hear of it I can remember the rows she had with Mr Crich my word
When hed got worked up properly worked up till he could stand no more hed
lock the study door and whip them But she paced up and down all the while like
a tiger outside like a tiger with very murder in her face She had a face that
could look death And when the door was opened shed go in with her hands
lifted What have you been doing to my children you coward She was like one
out of her mind I believe he was frightened of her he had to be driven mad
before hed lift a finger Didnt the servants have a life of it And didnt we
used to be thankful when one of them caught it They were the torment of your
life«
»Really« said Gudrun
»In every possible way If you wouldnt let them smash their pots on the
table if you wouldnt let them drag the kitten about with a string round its
neck if you wouldnt give them whatever they asked for every mortal thing
then there was a shine on and their mother coming in asking Whats the matter
with him What have you done to him What is it darling And then shed turn on
you as if shed trample you under her feet But she didnt trample on me I was
the only one that could do anything with her demons for she wasnt going to be
bothered with them herself No she took no trouble for them But they must just
have their way they mustnt be spoken to And Master Gerald was the beauty I
left when he was a year and a half I could stand no more But I pinched his
little bottom for him when he was in arms I did when there was no holding him
and Im not sorry I did «
Gudrun went away in fury and loathing The phrase I pinched his little
bottom for him sent her into a white stony fury She could not bear it she
wanted to have the woman taken out at once and strangled And yet there the
phrase was lodged in her mind for ever beyond escape She felt one day she
would have to tell him to see how he took it And she loathed herself for the
thought
But at Shortlands the lifelong struggle was coming to a close The father
was ill and was going to die He had bad internal pains which took away all his
attentive life and left him with only a vestige of his consciousness More and
more a silence came over him he was less and less acutely aware of his
surroundings The pain seemed to absorb his activity He knew it was there he
knew it would come again It was like something lurking in the darkness within
him And he had not the power or the will to seek it out and to know it There
it remained in the darkness the great pain tearing him at times and then
being silent And when it tore him he crouched in silent subjection under it
and when it left him alone again he refused to know of it It was within the
darkness let it remain unknown So he never admitted it except in a secret
corner of himself where all his neverrevealed fears and secrets were
accumulated For the rest he had a pain it went away it made no difference
It even stimulated him excited him
But it gradually absorbed his life Gradually it drew away all his
potentiality it bled him into the dark it weaned him of life and drew him away
into the darkness And in this twilight of his life little remained visible to
him The business his work that was gone entirely His public interests had
disappeared as if they had never been Even his family had become extraneous to
him he could only remember in some slight nonessential part of himself that
such and such were his children But it was historical fact not vital to him
He had to make an effort to know their relation to him Even his wife barely
existed She indeed was like the darkness like the pain within him By some
strange association the darkness that contained the pain and the darkness that
contained his wife were identical All his thoughts and understandings became
blurred and fused and now his wife and the consuming pain were the same dark
secret power against him that he never faced He never drove the dread out of
its lair within him He only knew that there was a dark place and something
inhabiting this darkness which issued from time to time and rent him But he
dared not penetrate and drive the beast into the open He had rather ignore its
existence. Only in his vague way the dread was his wife the destroyer and it
was the pain the destruction a darkness which was one and both
He very rarely saw his wife She kept her room Only occasionally she came
forth with her head stretched forward and in her low possessed voice she
asked him how he was And he answered her in the habit of more than thirty
years »Well I dont think Im any the worse dear« But he was frightened of
her underneath this safeguard of habit frightened almost to the verge of
death
But all his life he had been so constant to his lights he had never broken
down He would die even now without breaking down without knowing what his
feelings were towards her All his life he had said »Poor Christiana she has
such a strong temper« With unbroken will he had stood by this position with
regard to her he had substituted pity for all his hostility pity had been his
shield and his safeguard and his infallible weapon And still in his
consciousness he was sorry for her her nature was so violent and so impatient
But now his pity with his life was wearing thin and the dread almost
amounting to horror was rising into being But before the armour of his pity
really broke he would die as an insect when its shell is cracked This was his
final resource Others would live on and know the living death the ensuing
process of hopeless chaos He would not He denied death its victory
He had been so constant to his lights so constant to charity and to his
love for his neighbour Perhaps he had loved his neighbour even better than
himself which is going one further than the commandment Always this flame
had burned in his heart sustaining him through everything the welfare of the
people He was a large employer of labour he was a great mineowner And he had
never lost this from his heart that in Christ he was one with his workmen Nay
he had felt inferior to them as if they through poverty and labour were nearer
to God than he He had always the unacknowledged belief that it was his workmen
the miners who held in their hands the means of salvation To move nearer to
God he must move towards his miners his life must gravitate towards theirs
They were unconsciously his idol his God made manifest In them he worshipped
the highest the great sympathetic mindless Godhead of humanity
And all the while his wife had opposed him like one of the great demons of
hell Strange like a bird of prey with the fascinating beauty and abstraction
of a hawk she had beat against the bars of his philanthropy and like a hawk in
a cage she had sunk into silence By force of circumstance because all the
world combined to make the cage unbreakable he had been too strong for her he
had kept her prisoner And because she was his prisoner his passion for her had
always remained keen as death He had always loved her loved her with
intensity Within the cage she was denied nothing she was given all licence
But she had gone almost mad Of wild and overweening temper she could not
bear the humiliation of her husbands soft halfappealing kindness to
everybody He was not deceived by the poor He knew they came and sponged on
him and whined to him the worst sort the majority luckily for him were much
too proud to ask for anything much too independent to come knocking at his
door But in Beldover as everywhere else there were the whining parasitic
foul human beings who come crawling after charity and feeding on the living
body of the public like lice A kind of fire would go over Christiana Crichs
brain as she saw two more palefaced creeping women in objectionable black
clothes cringing lugubriously up the drive to the door She wanted to set the
dogs oh them »Hi Rip Hi Ring Ranger At em boys set em off« But
Crowther the butler with all the rest of the servants was Mr Crichs man
Nevertheless when her husband was away she would come down like a wolf on the
crawling supplicants »What do you people want There is nothing for you here
You have no business on the drive at all Simpson drive them away and let no
more of them through the gate«
The servants had to obey her And she would stand watching with an eye like
the eagles whilst the groom in clumsy confusion drove the lugubrious persons
down the drive as if they were rusty fowls scuttling before him
But they learned to know from the lodgekeeper when Mr Crich was away
and they timed their visits How many times in the first years would Crowther
knock softly at the door »Person to see you sir«
»What name«
»Grocock sir«
»What do they want« The question was half impatient half gratified He
liked hearing appeals to his charity
»About a child sir«
»Show them into the library and tell them they shouldnt come after eleven
oclock in the morning«
»Why do you get up from dinner send them off« his wife would say
abruptly
»Oh I cant do that Its no trouble just to hear what they have to say«
»How many more have been here today Why dont you establish open house for
them They would soon oust me and the children«
»You know dear it doesnt hurt me to hear what they have to say And if
they really are in trouble well it is my duty to help them out of it«
»Its your duty to invite all the rats in the world to gnaw at your bones«
»Come Christiana it isnt like that Dont be uncharitable«
But she suddenly swept out of the room and out to the study There sat the
meagre charityseekers looking as if they were at the doctors
»Mr Crich cant see you He cant see you at this hour Do you think he is
your property that you can come whenever you like You must go away there is
nothing for you here«
The poor people rose in confusion But Mr Crich pale and blackbearded and
deprecating came behind her saying
»Yes I dont like you coming as late as this Ill hear any of you in the
morning part of the day but I cant really do with you after Whats amiss
then Gittens How is your Missis«
»Why shes sunk very low Mester Crich shes amost gone she is «
Sometimes it seemed to Mrs Crich as if her husband were some subtle
funeral bird feeding on the miseries of the people It seemed to her he was
never satisfied unless there was some sordid tale being poured out to him which
he drank in with a sort of mournful sympathetic satisfaction He would have no
raison dêtre if there were no lugubrious miseries in the world as an
undertaker would have no meaning if there were no funerals
Mrs Crich recoiled back upon herself she recoiled away from this world of
creeping democracy A band of tight baleful exclusion fastened round her heart
her isolation was fierce and hard her antagonism was passive but terribly pure
like that of a hawk in a cage As the years went on she lost more and more
count of the world she seemed rapt in some glittering abstraction almost
purely unconscious She would wander about the house and about the surrounding
country staring keenly and seeing nothing She rarely spoke she had no
connection with the world And she did not even think She was consumed in a
fierce tension of opposition like the negative pole of a magnet
And she bore many children For as time went on she never opposed her
husband in word or deed She took no notice of him externally She submitted to
him let him take what he wanted and do as he wanted with her She was like a
hawk that sullenly submits to everything The relation between her and her
husband was wordless and unknown but it was deep awful a relation of utter
interdestruction And he who triumphed in the world he became more and more
hollow in his vitality the vitality was bled from within him as by some
hæmorrhage She was hulked like a hawk in a cage but her heart was fierce and
undiminished within her though her mind was destroyed
So to the last he would go to her and hold her in his arms sometimes before
his strength was all gone The terrible white destructive light that burned in
her eyes only excited and roused him Till he was bled to death and then he
dreaded her more than anything But he always said to himself how happy he had
been how he had loved her with a pure and consuming love ever since he had
known her And he thought of her as pure chaste the white flame which was
known to him alone the flame of her sex was a white flower of snow to his
mind She was a wonderful white snowflower which he had desired infinitely
And now he was dying with all his ideas and interpretations intact They would
only collapse when the breath left his body Till then they would be pure truths
for him Only death would show the perfect completeness of the lie Till death
she was his white snowflower He had subdued her and her subjugation was to
him an infinite chastity in her a virginity which he could never break and
which dominated him as by a spell
She had let go the outer world but within herself she was unbroken and
unimpaired She only sat in her room like a moping dishevelled hawk
motionless mindless Her children for whom she had been so fierce in her
youth now meant scarcely anything to her She had lost all that she was quite
by herself Only Gerald the gleaming had some existence for her But of late
years since he had become head of the business he too was forgotten Whereas
the father now he was dying turned for compassion to Gerald There had always
been opposition between the two of them Gerald had feared and despised his
father and to a great extent had avoided him all through boyhood and young
manhood And the father had felt very often a real dislike of his eldest son
which never wanting to give way to he had refused to acknowledge He had
ignored Gerald as much as possible leaving him alone
Since however Gerald had come home and assumed responsibility in the firm
and had proved such a wonderful director the father tired and weary of all
outside concerns had put all his trust of these things in his son implicitly
leaving everything to him and assuming a rather touching dependence on the
young enemy This immediately roused a poignant pity and allegiance in Geralds
heart always shadowed by contempt and by unadmitted enmity For Gerald was in
reaction against Charity and yet he was dominated by it it assumed supremacy
in the inner life and he could not confute it So he was partly subject to that
which his father stood for but he was in reaction against it Now he could not
save himself A certain pity and grief and tenderness for his father overcame
him in spite of the deeper more sullen hostility
The father won shelter from Gerald through compassion But for love he had
Winifred She was his youngest child she was the only one of his children whom
he had ever closely loved And her he loved with all the great overweening
sheltering love of a dying man He wanted to shelter her infinitely infinitely
to wrap her in warmth and love and shelter perfectly If he could save her she
should never know one pain one grief one hurt He had been so right all his
life so constant in his kindness and his goodness And this was his last
passionate righteousness his love for the child Winifred Some things troubled
him yet The world had passed away from him as his strength ebbed There were
no more poor and injured and humble to protect and succour These were all lost
to him There were no more sons and daughters to trouble him and to weigh on
him as an unnatural responsibility These too had faded out of reality All
these things had fallen out of his hands and left him free
There remained the covert fear and horror of his wife as she sat mindless
and strange in her room or as she came forth with slow prowling step her head
bent forward But this he put away Even his lifelong righteousness however
would not quite deliver him from the inner horror Still he could keep it
sufficiently at bay It would never break forth openly Death would come first
Then there was Winifred If only he could be sure about her if only he
could be sure Since the death of Diana and the development of his illness his
craving for surety with regard to Winifred amounted almost to obsession It was
as if even dying he must have some anxiety some responsibility of love of
Charity upon his heart
She was an odd sensitive inflammable child having her fathers dark hair
and quiet bearing but being quite detached momentaneous She was like a
changeling indeed as if her feelings did not matter to her really She often
seemed to be talking and playing like the gayest and most childish of children
she was full of the warmest most delightful affection for a few things for
her father and for her animals in particular But if she heard that her beloved
kitten Leo had been run over by the motorcar she put her head on one side and
replied with a faint contraction like resentment on her face »Has he« Then
she took no more notice She only disliked the servant who would force bad news
on her and wanted her to be sorry She wished not to know and that seemed her
chief motive She avoided her mother and most of the members of her family She
loved her Daddy because he wanted her always to be happy and because he seemed
to become young again and irresponsible in her presence She liked Gerald
because he was so selfcontained She loved people who would make life a game
for her She had an amazing instinctive critical faculty and was a pure
anarchist a pure aristocrat at once For she accepted her equals wherever she
found them and she ignored with blithe indifference her inferiors whether they
were her brothers and sisters or whether they were wealthy guests of the house
or whether they were the common people or the servants She was quite single and
by herself deriving from nobody It was as if she were cut off from all purpose
or continuity and existed simply moment by moment
The father as by some strange final illusion felt as if all his fate
depended on his ensuring to Winifred her happiness She who could never suffer
because she never formed vital connections she who could lose the dearest
things of her life and be just the same the next day the whole memory dropped
out as if deliberately she whose will was so strangely and easily free
anarchistic almost nihilistic who like a soulless bird flits on its own will
without attachment or responsibility beyond the moment who in her every motion
snapped the threads of serious relationship with blithe free hands really
nihilistic because never troubled she must be the object of her fathers final
passionate solicitude
When Mr Crich heard that Gudrun Brangwen might come to help Winifred with
her drawing and modelling he saw a road to salvation for his child He believed
that Winifred had talent he had seen Gudrun he knew that she was an
exceptional person He could give Winifred into her hands as into the hands of a
right being Here was a direction and a positive force to be lent to his child
he need not leave her directionless and defenceless If he could but graft the
girl on to some tree of utterance before he died he would have fulfilled his
responsibility And here it could be done He did not hesitate to appeal to
Gudrun
Meanwhile as the father drifted more and more out of life Gerald
experienced more and more a sense of exposure His father after all had stood
for the living world to him Whilst his father lived Gerald was not responsible
for the world But now his father was passing away Gerald found himself left
exposed and unready before the storm of living like the mutinous first mate of
a ship that has lost his captain and who sees only a terrible chaos in front of
him He did not inherit an established order and a living idea The whole
unifying idea of mankind seemed to be dying with his father the centralising
force that had held the whole together seemed to collapse with his father the
parts were ready to go asunder in terrible disintegration Gerald was as if left
on board of a ship that was going asunder beneath his feet he was in charge of
a vessel whose timbers were all coming apart
He knew that all his life he had been wrenching at the frame of life to
break it apart And now with something of the terror of a destructive child he
saw himself on the point of inheriting his own destruction And during the last
months under the influence of death and of Birkins talk and of Gudruns
penetrating being he had lost entirely that mechanical certainty that had been
his triumph Sometimes spasms of hatred came over him against Birkin and Gudrun
and that whole set He wanted to go back to the dullest conservatism to the
most stupid of conventional people He wanted to revert to the strictest
Toryism But the desire did not last long enough to carry him into action
During his childhood and his boyhood he had wanted a sort of savagedom The
days of Homer were his ideal when a man was chief of an army of heroes or
spent his years in wonderful Odyssey He hated remorselessly the circumstances
of his own life so much that he never really saw Beldover and the colliery
valley He turned his face entirely away from the blackened mining region that
stretched away on the right hand of Shortlands he turned entirely to the
country and the woods beyond Willey Water It was true that the panting and
rattling of the coalmines could always be heard at Shortlands But from his
earliest childhood Gerald had paid no heed to this He had ignored the whole of
the industrial sea which surged in coalblackened tides against the grounds of
the house The world was really a wilderness where one hunted and swam and rode
He rebelled against all authority Life was a condition of savage freedom
Then he had been sent away to school which was so much death to him He
refused to go to Oxford choosing a German university He had spent a certain
time at Bonn at Berlin and at Frankfurt There a curiosity had been aroused
in his mind He wanted to see and to know in a curious objective fashion as if
it were an amusement to him Then he must try war Then he must travel into the
savage regions that had so attracted him
The result was he found humanity very much alike everywhere and to a mind
like his curious and cold the savage was duller less exciting than the
European So he took hold of all kinds of sociological ideas, and ideas of
reform But they never went more than skindeep they were never more than a
mental amusement Their interest lay chiefly in the reaction against the
positive order the destructive reaction
He discovered at last a real adventure in the coalmines His father asked
him to help in the firm Gerald had been educated in the science of mining and
it had never interested him Now suddenly with a sort of exulation he laid
hold of the world
There was impressed photographically on his consciousness the great
industry Suddenly it was real he was part of it Down the valley ran the
colliery railway linking mine with mine Down the railway ran the trains short
trains of heavily laden trucks long trains of empty wagons each one bearing in
big white letters the initials
»CB amp Co«
These white letters on all the wagons he had seen since his first childhood
and it was as if he had never seen them they were so familiar and so ignored
Now at last he saw his own name written on the wall Now he had a vision of
power
So many wagons bearing his initial running all over the country He saw
them as he entered London in the train he saw them at Dover So far his power
ramified He looked at Beldover at Selby at Whatmore at Lethley Bank the
great colliery villages which depended entirely on his mines They were hideous
and sordid during his childhood they had been sores in his consciousness. And
now he saw them with pride Four raw new towns and many ugly industrial hamlets
were crowded under his dependence He saw the stream of miners flowing along the
causeways from the mines at the end of the afternoon thousands of blackened
slightly distorted human beings with red mouths all moving subjugate to his
will He pushed slowly in his motorcar through the little markettop on Friday
nights in Beldover through a solid mass of human beings that were making their
purchases and doing their weekly spending They were all subordinate to him
They were ugly and uncouth but they were his instruments He was the God of the
machine They made way for his motorcar automatically slowly
He did not care whether they made way with alacrity or grudgingly He did
not care what they thought of him His vision had suddenly crystallised
Suddenly he had conceived the pure instrumentality of mankind There had been so
much humanitarianism so much talk of sufferings and feelings It was
ridiculous The sufferings and feelings of individuals did not matter in the
least They were mere conditions like the weather What mattered was the pure
instrumentality of the individual. As a man as of a knife does it cut well
Nothing else mattered
Everything in the world has its function and is good or not good in so far
as it fulfils this function more or less perfectly Was a miner a good miner
Then he was complete Was a manager a good manager That was enough Gerald
himself who was responsible for all this industry was he a good director If
he were he had fulfilled his life The rest was byplay
The mines were there they were old They were giving out it did not pay to
work the seams There was talk of closing down two of them It was at this point
that Gerald arrived on the scene
He looked around There lay the mines They were old obsolete They were
like old lions no more good He looked again Pah the mines were nothing but
the clumsy efforts of impure minds There they lay abortions of a halftrained
mind Let the idea of them be swept away He cleared his brain of them and
thought only of the coal in the under earth How much was there
There was plenty of coal The old workings could not get at it that was
all Then break the neck of the old workings The coal lay there in its seams
even though the seams were thin There it lay inert matter as it had always
lain since the beginning of time subject to the will of man The will of man
was the determining factor Man was the archgod of earth His mind was obedient
to serve his will Mans will was the absolute, the only absolute
And it was his will to subjugate Matter to his own ends The subjugation
itself was the point the fight was the beall the fruits of victory were mere
results It was not for the sake of money that Gerald took over the mines He
did not care about money fundamentally He was neither ostentatious nor
luxurious neither did he care about social position not finally What he
wanted was the pure fulfilment of his own will in the struggle with the natural
conditions His will was now to take the coal out of the earth profitably The
profit was merely the condition of victory but the victory itself lay in the
feat achieved He vibrated with zest before the challenge Every day he was in
the mines examining testing he consulted experts he gradually gathered the
whole situation into his mind as a general grasps the plan of his campaign
Then there was need for a complete break The mines were run on an old
system an obsolete idea The initial idea had been to obtain as much money
from the earth as would make the owners comfortably rich would allow the
workmen sufficient wages and good conditions and would increase the wealth of
the country altogether Geralds father following in the second generation
having a sufficient fortune had thought only of the men The mines for him
were primarily great fields to produce bread and plenty for all the hundreds of
human beings gathered about them He had lived and striven with his fellow
owners to benefit the men every time And the men had been benefited in their
fashion There were few poor and few needy All was plenty because the mines
were good and easy to work And the miners in those days finding themselves
richer than they might have expected felt glad and triumphant They thought
themselves well off they congratulated themselves on their good fortune they
remembered how their fathers had starved and suffered and they felt that better
times had come They were grateful to those others the pioneers the new
owners who had opened out the pits and let forth this stream of plenty
But man is never satisfied and so the miners from gratitude to their
owners passed on to murmuring Their sufficiency decreased with knowledge they
wanted more Why should the master be so outofallproportion rich
There was a crisis when Gerald was a boy when the Masters Federation
closed down the mines because the men would not accept a reduction This
lockout had forced home the new conditions to Thomas Crich Belonging to the
Federation he had been compelled by his honour to close the pits against his
men He the father the Patriarch was forced to deny the means of life to his
sons his people He the rich man who would hardly enter heaven because of his
possessions must now turn upon the poor upon those who were nearer Christ than
himself those who were humble and despised and closer to perfection those who
were manly and noble in their labours and must say to them »Ye shall neither
labour nor eat bread«
It was this recognition of the state of war which really broke his heart He
wanted his industry to be run on love Oh he wanted love to be the directing
power even of the mines And now from under the cloak of love the sword was
cynically drawn the sword of mechanical necessity
This really broke his heart He must have the illusion and now the illusion
was destroyed The men were not against him but they were against the masters
It was war and willynilly he found himself on the wrong side in his own
conscience Seething masses of miners met daily carried away by a new religious
impulse The idea flew through them »All men are equal on earth« and they
would carry the idea to its material fulfilment After all is it not the
teaching of Christ And what is an idea if not the germ of action in the
material world »All men are equal in spirit they are all sons of God Whence
then this obvious disquality« It was a religious creed pushed to its material
conclusion Thomas Crich at least had no answer He could but admit according
to his sincere tenets that the disquality was wrong But he could not give up
his goods which were the stuff of disquality So the men would fight for their
rights The last impulses of the last religious passion left on earth the
passion for equality inspired them
Seething mobs of men marched about their faces lighted up as for holy war
with a smoke of cupidity How disentangle the passion for equality from the
passion of cupidity when begins the fight for equality of possessions But the
God was the machine Each man claimed equality in the Godhead of the great
productive machine Every man equally was part of this Godhead But somehow
somewhere Thomas Crich knew this was false When the machine is the Godhead
and production or work is worship then the most mechanical mind is purest and
highest the representative of God on earth And the rest are subordinate each
according to his degree
Riots broke out Whatmore pithead was in flames This was the pit farthest
in the country near the woods Soldiers came From the windows of Shortlands
on that fatal day could be seen the flare of fire in the sky not far off and
now the little colliery train with the workmens carriages which were used to
convey the miners to the distant Whatmore was crossing the valley full of
soldiers full of redcoats Then there was the faroff sound of firing then
the later news that the mob was dispersed one man was shot dead the fire was
put out
Gerald who was a boy was filled with the wildest excitement and delight
He longed to go with the soldiers to shoot the men But he was not allowed to go
out of the lodge gates At the gates were stationed sentries with guns Gerald
stood near them in delight whilst gangs of derisive miners strolled up and down
the lanes calling and jeering
»Now then three haporth o coppers lets see thee shoot thy gun« Insults
were chalked on the walls and the fences the servants left
And all this while Thomas Crich was breaking his heart and giving away
hundreds of pounds in charity Everywhere there was free food a surfeit of free
food Anybody could have bread for asking and a loaf cost only threehapence
Every day there was a free tea somewhere the children had never had so many
treats in their lives On Friday afternoon great basketfuls of buns and cakes
were taken into the schools and great pitchers of milk the schoolchildren had
what they wanted They were sick with eating too much cake and milk
And then it came to an end and the men went back to work But it was never
the same as before There was a new situation created a new idea reigned Even
in the machine there should be equality No part should be subordinate to any
other part all should be equal The instinct for chaos had entered Mystic
equality lies in abstraction not in having or in doing which are processes In
function and process one man one part must of necessity be subordinate to
another It is a condition of being But the desire for chaos had risen and the
idea of mechanical equality was the weapon of disruption which should execute
the will of men the will for chaos
Gerald was a boy at the time of the strike but he longed to be a man to
fight the colliers The father however was trapped between two halftruths
and broken He wanted to be a pure Christian one and equal with all men He
even wanted to give away all he had to the poor Yet he was a great promoter of
industry and he knew perfectly that he must keep his goods and keep his
authority This was as divine a necessity in him as the need to give away all
he possessed more divine even since this was the necessity he acted upon
Yet because he did not act on the other ideal it dominated him he was dying of
chagrin because he must forfeit it He wanted to be a father of loving kindness
and sacrificial benevolence The colliers shouted to him about his thousands a
year They would not be deceived
When Gerald grew up in the ways of the world he shifted the position He
did not care about the equality The whole Christian attitude of love and
selfsacrifice was old hat He knew that position and authority were the right
thing in the world and it was useless to cant about it They were the right
thing for the simple reason that they were functionally necessary They were
not the beall and the endall It was like being part of a machine He himself
happened to be a controlling central part the masses of men were the parts
variously controlled This was merely as it happened As well get excited
because a central hub drives a hundred outer wheels or because the whole
universe wheels round the sun After all it would be mere silliness to say that
the moon and the earth and Saturn and Jupiter and Venus have just as much right
to be the centre of the universe each of them separately as the sun Such an
assertion is made merely in the desire of chaos
Without bothering to think to a conclusion Gerald jumped to a conclusion
He abandoned the whole democraticequality problem as a problem of silliness
What mattered was the great social productive machine Let that work perfectly
let it produce a sufficiency of everything let every man be given a rational
portion greater or less according to his functional degree or magnitude and
then provision made let the devil supervene let every man look after his own
amusements and appetites so long as he interfered with nobody
So Gerald set himself to work to put the great industry in order In his
travels and in his accompanying readings he had come to the conclusion that
the essential secret of life was harmony He did not define to himself at all
clearly what harmony was The word pleased him he felt he had come to his own
conclusions And he proceeded to put his philosophy into practice by forcing
order into the established world translating the mystic word harmony into the
practical word organisation
Immediately he saw the firm he realised what he could do He had a fight to
fight with Matter with the earth and the coal it enclosed This was the sole
idea to turn upon the inanimate matter of the underground and reduce it to his
will And for this fight with matter one must have perfect instruments in
perfect organisation a mechanism so subtle and harmonious in its workings that
it represents the single mind of man and by its relentless repetition of given
movement will accomplish a purpose irresistibly inhumanly It was this inhuman
principle in the mechanism he wanted to construct that inspired Gerald with an
almost religious exaltation He the man could interpose a perfect changeless
godlike medium between himself and the Matter he had to subjugate There were
two opposites his will and the resistant Matter of the earth And between these
he could establish the very expression of his will the incarnation of his
power a great and perfect machine a system an activity of pure order pure
mechanical repetition repetition ad infinitum hence eternal and infinite He
found his eternal and his infinite in the pure machineprinciple of perfect
coordination into one pure complex infinitely repeated motion like the
spinning of a wheel but a productive spinning as the revolving of the universe
may be called a productive spinning a productive repetition through eternity
to infinity. And this is the Godmotion this productive repetition ad
infinitum And Gerald was the God of the machine Deus ex Machina And the whole
productive will of man was the Godhead
He had his lifework now to extend over the earth a great and perfect
system in which the will of man ran smooth and unthwarted timeless a Godhead
in process He had to begin with the mines The terms were given first the
resistant Matter of the underground then the instruments of its subjugation
instruments human and metallic and finally his own pure will his own mind It
would need a marvellous adjustment of myriad instruments human animal
metallic kinetic dynamic a marvellous casting of myriad tiny wholes into one
great perfect entirety And then in this case there was perfection attained
the will of the highest was perfectly fulfilled the will of mankind was
perfectly enacted for was not mankind mystically contradistinguished against
inanimate Matter was not the history of mankind just the history of the
conquest of the one by the other
The miners were overreached While they were still in the toils of divine
equality of man Gerald had passed on granted essentially their case and
proceeded in his quality of human being to fulfil the will of mankind as a
whole He merely represented the miners in a higher sense when he perceived that
the only way to fulfil perfectly the will of man was to establish the perfect
inhuman machine But he represented them very essentially they were far behind
out of date squabbling for their material equality The desire had already
transmuted into this new and greater desire for a perfect intervening mechanism
between man and Matter the desire to translate the Godhead into pure mechanism
As soon as Gerald entered the firm the convulsion of death ran through the
old system He had all his life been tortured by a furious and destructive
demon which possessed him sometimes like an insanity This temper now entered
like a virus into the firm and there were cruel eruptions Terrible and inhuman
were his examinations into every detail there was no privacy he would spare no
old sentiment but he would turn it over The old grey managers the old grey
clerks the doddering old pensioners he looked at them and removed them as so
much lumber The whole concern seemed like a hospital of invalid employees He
had no emotional qualms He arranged what pensions were necessary he looked for
efficient substitutes and when these were found he substituted them for the
old hands
»Ive a pitiful letter here from Letherington« his father would say in a
tone of deprecation and appeal »Dont you think the poor fellow might keep on a
little longer I always fancied he did very well«
»Ive got a man in his place now father Hell be happier out of it
believe me You think his allowance is plenty dont you«
»It is not the allowance that he wants poor man He feels it very much
that he is superannuated Says he thought he had twenty more years of work in
him yet«
»Not of this kind of work I want He doesnt understand«
The father sighed He wanted not to know any more He believed the pits
would have to be overhauled if they were to go on working And after all it
would be worst in the long run for everybody if they must close down So he
could make no answer to the appeals of his old and trusty servants he could
only repeat »Gerald says«
So the father drew more and more out of the light The whole frame of the
real life was broken for him He had been right according to his lights And his
lights had been those of the great religion Yet they seemed to have become
obsolete to be superseded in the world He could not understand He only
withdrew with his lights into an inner room into the silence The beautiful
candles of belief, that would not do to light the world any more they would
still burn sweetly and sufficiently in the inner room of his soul and in the
silence of his retirement
Gerald rushed into the reform of the firm beginning with the office It was
needful to economise severely to make possible the great alterations he must
introduce
»What are these widows coals« he asked
»We have always allowed all widows of men who worked for the firm a load of
coals every three months«
»They must pay cost price henceforward The firm is not a charity
institution as everybody seems to think«
Widows these stock figures of sentimental humanitarianism he felt a
dislike at the thought of them They were almost repulsive Why were they not
immolated on the pyre of the husband like the sati in India At any rate let
them pay the cost of their coals
In a thousand ways he cut down the expenditure in ways so fine as to be
hardly noticeable to the men The miners must pay for the cartage of their
coals heavy cartage too they must pay for their tools for the sharpening for
the care of lamps for the many trifling things that made the bill of charges
against every man mount up to a shilling or so in the week It was not grasped
very definitely by the miners though they were sore enough But it saved
hundreds of pounds every week for the firm
Gradually Gerald got hold of everything And then began the great reform
Expert engineers were introduced in every department An enormous electric plant
was installed both for lighting and for haulage underground and for power The
electricity was carried into every mine New machinery was brought from America
such as the miners had never seen before great iron men as the cutting
machines were called and unusual appliances The working of the pits was
thoroughly changed all the control was taken out of the hands of the miners
the butty system was abolished Everything was run on the most accurate and
delicate scientific method educated and expert men were in control everywhere
the miners were reduced to mere mechanical instruments They had to work hard
much harder than before the work was terrible and heartbreaking in its
mechanicalness
But they submitted to it all The joy went out of their lives the hope
seemed to perish as they became more and more mechanised And yet they accepted
the new conditions They even got a further satisfaction out of them At first
they hated Gerald Crich they swore to do something to him to murder him But
as time went on they accepted everything with some fatal satisfaction Gerald
was their high priest he represented the religion they really felt His father
was forgotten already There was a new world a new order strict terrible
inhuman but satisfying in its very destructiveness The men were satisfied to
belong to the great and wonderful machine even whilst it destroyed them It was
what they wanted It was the highest that man had produced the most wonderful
and superhuman They were exalted by belonging to this great and superhuman
system which was beyond feeling or reason something really godlike Their
hearts died within them but their souls were satisfied It was what they
wanted Otherwise Gerald could never have done what he did He was just ahead of
them in giving them what they wanted this participation in a great and perfect
system that subjected life to pure mathematical principles This was a sort of
freedom the sort they really wanted It was the first great step in undoing
the first great phase of chaos the substitution of the mechanical principle for
the organic, the destruction of the organic purpose the organic unity, and the
subordination of every organic unit to the great mechanical purpose It was pure
organic disintegration and pure mechanical organisation This is the first and
finest state of chaos
Gerald was satisfied He knew the colliers said they hated him But he had
long ceased to hate them When they streamed past him at evening their heavy
boots slurring on the pavement wearily their shoulders slightly distorted they
took no notice of him they gave him no greeting whatever they passed in a
greyblack stream of unemotional acceptance They were not important to him
save as instruments nor he to them save as a supreme instrument of control As
miners they had their being he had his being as director He admired their
qualities But as men personalities they were just accidents sporadic little
unimportant phenomena. And tacitly the men agreed to this For Gerald agreed to
it in himself
He had succeeded He had converted the industry into a new and terrible
purity There was a greater output of coal than ever the wonderful and delicate
system ran almost perfectly He had a set of really clever engineers both
mining and electrical and they did not cost much A highly educated man cost
very little more than a workman His managers who were all rare men were no
more expensive than the old bungling fools of his fathers days who were merely
colliers promoted His chief manager who had twelve hundred a year saved the
firm at least five thousand The whole system was now so perfect that Gerald was
hardly necessary any more
It was so perfect that sometimes a strange fear came over him and he did
not know what to do He went on for some years in a sort of trance of activity
What he was doing seemed supreme he was almost like a divinity He was a pure
and exalted activity
But now he had succeeded he had finally succeeded And once or twice
lately when he was alone in the evening and had nothing to do he had suddenly
stood up in terror not knowing what he was And he went to the mirror and
looked long and closely at his own face at his own eyes seeking for something
He was afraid in mortal dry fear but he knew not what of He looked at his own
face There it was shapely and healthy and the same as ever yet somehow it
was not real it was a mask He dared not touch it for fear it should prove to
be only a composition mask His eyes were blue and keen as ever and as firm in
their sockets Yet he was not sure that they were not blue false bubbles that
would burst in a moment and leave clear annihilation He could see the darkness
in them as if they were only bubbles of darkness He was afraid that one day he
would break down and be a purely meaningless babble lapping round a darkness
But his will yet held good he was able to go away and read and think about
things He liked to read books about the primitive man books of anthropology
and also works of speculative philosophy His mind was very active But it was
like a bubble floating in the darkness At any moment it might burst and leave
him in chaos He would not die He knew that He would go on living but the
meaning would have collapsed out of him his divine reason would be gone In a
strangely indifferent sterile way he was frightened But he could not react
even to the fear It was as if his centres of feeling were drying up He
remained calm calculative and healthy and quite freely deliberate even whilst
he felt with faint small but final sterile horror that his mystic reason was
breaking giving way now at this crisis
And it was a strain He knew there was no equilibrium He would have to go
in some direction shortly to find relief Only Birkin kept the fear definitely
off him saved him his quick sufficiency in life by the odd mobility and
changeableness which seemed to contain the quintessence of faith But then
Gerald must always come away from Birkin as from a Church service back to the
outside real world of work and life There it was it did not alter and words
were futilities He had to keep himself in reckoning with the world of work and
material life And it became more and more difficult such a strange pressure
was upon him as if the very middle of him were a vacuum and outside were an
awful tension
He had found his most satisfactory relief in women After a debauch with
some desperate woman he went on quite easy and forgetful The devil of it was
it was so hard to keep up his interest in women nowadays He didnt care about
them any more A Pussum was all right in her way but she was an exceptional
case and even she mattered extremely little No women in that sense were
useless to him any more He felt that his mind needed acute stimulation before
he could be physically roused
Chapter XVIII
Rabbit
Gudrun knew that it was a critical thing for her to go to Shortlands She knew
it was equivalent to accepting Gerald Crich as a lover And though she hung
back disliking the condition yet she knew she would go on She equivocated
She said to herself in torment recalling the blow and the kiss »After all
what is it What is a kiss What even is a blow It is an instant vanished at
once I can go to Shortlands just for a time before I go away if only to see
what it is like« For she had an insatiable curiosity to see and to know
everything
She also wanted to know what Winifred was really like Having heard the
child calling from the steamer in the night she felt some mysterious connection
with her
Gudrun talked with the father in the library Then he sent for his daughter
She came accompanied by Mademoiselle
»Winnie this is Miss Brangwen who will be so kind as to help you with your
drawing and making models of your animals« said the father
The child looked at Gudrun for a moment with interest before she came
forward and with face averted offered her hand There was a complete sang froid
and indifference under Winifreds childish reserve a certain irresponsible
callousness
»How do you do« said the child not lifting her face
»How do you do« said Gudrun
Then Winifred stood aside and Gudrun was introduced to Mademoiselle
»You have a fine day for your walk« said Mademoiselle in a bright manner
»Quite fine« said Gudrun
Winifred was watching from her distance She was as if amused but rather
unsure as yet what this new person was like She saw so many new persons and so
few who became real to her Mademoiselle was of no count whatever the child
merely put up with her calmly and easily accepting her little authority with
faint scorn compliant out of childish arrogance of indifference
»Well Winifred« said the father »arent you glad Miss Brangwen has come
She makes animals and birds in wood and in clay that the people in London write
about in the papers praising them to the skies«
Winifred smiled slightly
»Who told you Daddie« she asked
»Who told me Hermione told me and Rupert Birkin«
»Do you know them« Winifred asked of Gudrun turning to her with faint
challenge
»Yes« said Gudrun
Winifred readjusted herself a little She had been ready to accept Gudrun as
a sort of servant Now she saw it was on terms of friendship they were intended
to meet She was rather glad She had so many half inferiors whom she tolerated
with perfect goodhumour
Gudrun was very calm She also did not take these things very seriously A
new occasion was mostly spectacular to her However Winifred was a detached
ironic child she would never attach herself Gudrun liked her and was intrigued
by her The first meetings went off with a certain humiliating clumsiness
Neither Winifred nor her instructress had any social grace
Soon however they met in a kind of makebelief world Winifred did not
notice human beings unless they were like herself playful and slightly mocking
She would accept nothing but the world of amusement and the serious people of
her life were the animals she had for pets On those she lavished almost
ironically her affection and her companionship To the rest of the human scheme
she submitted with a faint bored indifference
She had a Pekinese dog called Looloo which she loved
»Let us draw Looloo« said Gudrun »and see if we can get his Looliness
shall we«
»Darling« cried Winifred rushing to the dog that sat with contemplative
sadness on the hearth and kissing its bulging brow »Darling one will you be
drawn Shall its mummy draw its portrait« Then she chuckled gleefully and
turning to Gudrun said »Oh lets«
They proceeded to get pencils and paper and were ready
»Beautifullest« cried Winifred hugging the dog »sit still while its mummy
draws its beautiful portrait« The dog looked up at her with grievous
resignation in its large prominent eyes She kissed it fervently and said »I
wonder what mine will be like Its sure to be awful«
As she sketched she chuckled to herself and cried out at times
»Oh darling youre so beautiful«
And again chuckling she rushed to embrace the dog in penitence as if she
were doing him some subtle injury He sat all the time with the resignation and
fretfulness of ages on his dark velvety face She drew slowly with a wicked
concentration in her eyes her head on one side an intense stillness over her
She was as if working the spell of some enchantment Suddenly she had finished
She looked at the dog and then at her drawing and then cried with real grief
for the dog and at the same time with a wicked exultation
»My beautiful why did they«
She took her paper to the dog and held it under his nose He turned his
head aside as in chagrin and mortification and she impulsively kissed his
velvety bulging forehead
»s a Loolie s a little Loozie Look at his portrait darling look at his
portrait that his mother has done of him« She looked at her paper and
chuckled Then kissing the dog once more she rose and came gravely to Gudrun
offering her the paper
It was a grotesque little diagram of a grotesque little animal so wicked
and so comical a slow smile came over Gudruns face unconsciously And at her
side Winifred chuckled with glee and said
»It isnt like him is it Hes much lovelier than that Hes so beautiful
mmm Looloo my sweet darling« And she flew off to embrace the chagrined little
dog He looked up at her with reproachful saturnine eyes vanquished in his
extreme agedness of being Then she flew back to her drawing and chuckled with
satisfaction
»It isnt like him is it« she said to Gudrun
»Yes its very like him« Gudrun replied
The child treasured her drawing carried it about with her and showed it
with a silent embarrassment to everybody
»Look« she said thrusting the paper into her fathers hand
»Why thats Looloo« he exclaimed And he looked down in surprise hearing
the almost inhuman chuckle of the child at his side
Gerald was away from home when Gudrun first came to Shortlands But the
first morning he came back he watched for her It was a sunny soft morning and
he lingered in the garden paths looking at the flowers that had come out during
his absence He was clean and fit as ever shaven his fair hair scrupulously
parted at the side bright in the sunshine his short fair moustache closely
clipped his eyes with their humorous kind twinkle which was so deceptive He
was dressed in black his clothes sat well on his wellnourished body Yet as he
lingered before the flowerbeds in the morning sunshine there was a certain
isolation a fear about him as of something wanting
Gudrun came up quickly unseen She was dressed in blue with woollen yellow
stockings like the Bluecoat boys He glanced up in surprise Her stockings
always disconcerted him the paleyellow stockings and the heavy heavy black
shoes Winifred who had been playing about the garden with Mademoiselle and the
dogs came flitting towards Gudrun The child wore a dress of blackandwhite
stripes Her hair was rather short cut round and hanging level in her neck
»Were going to do Bismarck arent we« she said linking her hand through
Gudruns arm
»Yes were going to do Bismarck Do you want to«
»Oh yes oh I do I want most awfully to do Bismarck He looks so splendid
this morning so fierce Hes almost as big as a lion« And the child chuckled
sardonically at her own hyperbole »Hes a real king he really is«
»Bon jour Mademoiselle« said the little French governess wavering up with
a slight bow a bow of the sort that Gudrun loathed insolent
»Winifred veut tant faire le portrait de Bismarck Oh mais toute la
matinée We will do Bismarck this morning Bismarck Bismarck toujours
Bismarck Cest un lapin nestce pas mademoiselle«
»Oui cest un grand lapin blanc et noir Vous ne lavez pas vu« said
Gudrun in her good but rather heavy French
»Non mademoiselle Winifred na jamais voulu me le faire voir Tant de fois
je le lui ai demandé Quest ce donc que ce Bismarck Winifred Mais elle na
pas voulu me le dire Son Bismarck cétait un mystére«
»Oui cest un mystére vraiment un mystére Miss Brangwen say that
Bismarck is a mystery« cried Winifred
»Bismarck is a mystery Bismarck cest un mystére der Bismarck er ist
ein Wunder« said Gudrun in mocking incantation
»Ja er ist ein Wunder« repeated Winifred with odd seriousness under
which lay a wicked chuckle
»Ist er auch ein Wunder« came the slightly insolent sneering of
Mademoiselle
»Doch« said Winifred briefly indifferent
»Doch ist er nicht ein König Beesmarck he was not a king Winifred as you
have said He was only il nétait que chancelier«
»Quest ce quun chancelier« said Winifred with slightly contemptuous
indifference
»A chancelier is a chancellor and a chancellor is I believe a sort of
judge« said Gerald coming up and shaking hands with Gudrun »Youll have made
a song of Bismarck soon« said he
Mademoiselle waited and discreetly made her inclination and her greeting
»So they wouldnt let you see Bismarck Mademoiselle« he said
»Non Monsieur«
»Ay very mean of them What are you going to do to him Miss Brangwen I
want him sent to the kitchen and cooked«
»Oh no« cried Winifred
»Were going to draw him« said Gudrun
»Draw him and quarter him and dish him up« he said being purposely
fatuous
»Oh no« cried Winifred with emphasis chuckling
Gudrun detected the tang of mockery in him and she looked up and smiled
into his face He felt his nerves caressed Their eyes met in knowledge
»How do you like Shortlands« he asked
»Oh very much« she said with nonchalance
»Glad you do Have you noticed these flowers«
He led her along the path She followed intently Winifred came and the
governess lingered in the rear They stopped before some veined salpiglossis
flowers
»Arent they wonderful« she cried looking at them absorbedly Strange how
her reverential almost ecstatic admiration of the flowers caressed his nerves
She stooped down and touched the trumpets with infinitely fine and
delicatetouching fingertips It filled him with ease to see her When she
rose her eyes hot with the beauty of the flowers looked into his
»What are they« she asked
»Sort of petunia I suppose« he answered »I dont really know them«
»They are quite strangers to me« she said
They stood together in a false intimacy a nervous contact And he was in
love with her
She was aware of Mademoiselle standing near like a little French beetle
observant and calculating She moved away with Winifred saying they would go to
find Bismarck
Gerald watched them go looking all the while at the soft full still body
of Gudrun in its silky cashmere How silky and rich and soft her body must be
An excess of appreciation came over his mind she was the alldesirable the
allbeautiful He wanted only to come to her nothing more He was only this
this being that should come to her and be given to her
At the same time he was finely and acutely aware of Mademoiselles neat
brittle finality of form She was like some elegant beetle with thin ankles
perched on her high heels her glossy black dress perfectly correct her dark
hair done high and admirably How repulsive her completeness and her finality
was He loathed her
Yet he did admire her She was perfectly correct And it did rather annoy
him that Gudrun came dressed in startling colours like a macaw when the
family was in mourning Like a macaw she was He watched the lingering way she
took her feet from the ground And her ankles were pale yellow and her dress a
deep blue Yet it pleased him It pleased him very much He felt the challenge
in her very attire she challenged the whole world And he smiled as to the
note of a trumpet
Gudrun and Winifred went through the house to the back where were the
stables and the outbuildings Everywhere was still and deserted Mr Crich had
gone out for a short drive the stableman had just led round Geralds horse
The two girls went to the hutch that stood in a corner and looked at the great
blackandwhite rabbit
»Isnt he beautiful Oh do look at him listening Doesnt he look silly«
she laughed quickly then added »Oh do lets do him listening do let us he
listens with so much of himself dont you darling Bismarck«
»Can we take him out« said Gudrun
»Hes very strong He really is extremely strong« She looked at Gudrun her
head on one side in odd calculating mistrust
»But well try shall we«
»Yes if you like But hes a fearful kicker«
They took the key to unlock the door The rabbit exploded in a wild rush
round the hutch
»He scratches most awfully sometimes« cried Winifred in excitement »Oh do
look at him isnt he wonderful« The rabbit tore round the hutch in a flurry
»Bismarck« cried the child in rousing excitement »How dreadful you are You
are beastly« Winifred looked up at Gudrun with some misgiving in her wild
excitement Gudrun smiled sardonically with her mouth Winifred made a strange
crooning noise of unaccountable excitement »Now hes still« she cried seeing
the rabbit settled down in a far corner of the hutch »Shall we take him now«
she whispered excitedly mysteriously looking up at Gudrun and edging very
close »Shall we get him now « she chuckled wickedly to herself
They unlocked the door of the hutch Gudrun thrust in her arm and seized the
great lusty rabbit as it crouched still she grasped its long ears It set its
four feet flat and thrust back There was a long scraping sound as it was
hauled forward and in another instant it was in midair lunging wildly its
body flying like a spring coiled and released as it lashed out suspended from
the ears Gudrun held the blackandwhite tempest at arms length averting her
face But the rabbit was magically strong it was all she could do to keep her
grasp She almost lost her presence of mind
»Bismarck Bismarck you are behaving terribly« said Winifred in a rather
frightened voice »Oh do put him down hes beastly«
Gudrun stood for a moment astounded by the thunderstorm that had sprung into
being in her grip Then her colour came up a heavy rage came over her like a
cloud She stood shaken as a house in a storm and utterly overcome Her heart
was arrested with fury at the mindlessness and the bestial stupidity of this
struggle her wrists were badly scored by the claws of the beast a heavy
cruelty welled up in her
Gerald came round as she was trying to capture the flying rabbit under her
arm He saw with subtle recognition her sullen passion of cruelty
»You should let one of the men do that for you« he said hurrying up
»Oh hes so horrid« cried Winifred almost frantic
He held out his nervous sinewy hand and took the rabbit by the ears from
Gudrun
»Its most fearfully strong« she cried in a high voice like the crying of
a seagull strange and vindictive
The rabbit made itself into a ball in the air and lashed out flinging
itself into a bow It really seemed demoniacal Gudrun saw Geralds body
tighten saw a sharp blindness come into his eyes
»I know these beggars of old« he said
The long demonlike beast lashed out again spread on the air as if it were
flying looking something like a dragon then closing up again inconceivably
powerful and explosive The mans body strung to its efforts vibrated
strongly Then a sudden sharp whiteedged wrath came up in him Swift as
lightning he drew back and brought his free hand down like a hawk on the neck of
the rabbit Simultaneously there came the unearthly abhorrent scream of a
rabbit in the fear of death It made one immense writhe tore his wrists and his
sleeves in a final convulsion all its belly flashed white in a whirlwind of
paws and then he had slung it round and had it under his arm fast It cowered
and skulked His face was gleaming with a smile
»You wouldnt think there was all that force in a rabbit« he said looking
at Gudrun And he saw her eyes black as night in her pallid face she looked
almost unearthly The scream of the rabbit after the violent tussle seemed to
have torn the veil of her consciousness He looked at her and the whitish
electric gleam in his face intensified
»I dont really like him« Winifred was crooning »I dont care for him as I
do for Loozie Hes hateful really«
A smile twisted Gudruns face as she recovered She knew she was revealed
»Dont they make the most fearful noise when they scream« she cried the
high note in her voice like a seagulls cry
»Abominable« he said
»He shouldnt be so silly when he has to be taken out« Winifred was saying
putting out her hand and touching the rabbit tentatively as it skulked under
his arm motionless as if it were dead
»Hes not dead is he Gerald« she asked
»No he ought to be« he said
»Yes he ought« cried the child with a sudden flush of amusement And she
touched the rabbit with more confidence »His heart is beating so fast Isnt he
funny He really is«
»Where do you want him« asked Gerald
»In the little green court« she said
Gudrun looked at Gerald with strange darkened eyes strained with
underworld knowledge almost supplicating like those of a creature which is at
his mercy yet which is his ultimate victor He did not know what to say to her
He felt the mutual hellish recognition And he felt he ought to say something to
cover it He had the power of lightning in his nerves she seemed like a soft
recipient of his magical hideous white fire He was unconfident he had qualms
of fear
»Did he hurt you« he asked
»No« she said
»Hes an insensible beast« he said turning his face away
They came to the little court which was shut in by old red walls in whose
crevices wallflowers were growing The grass was soft and fine and old a level
floor carpeting the court the sky was blue overhead Gerald tossed the rabbit
down It crouched still and would not move Gudrun watched it with faint horror
»Why doesnt it move« she cried
»Its skulking« he said
She looked up at him and a slight sinister smile contracted her white face
»Isnt it a fool« she cried »Isnt it a sickening fool« The vindictive
mockery in her voice made his brain quiver Glancing up at him into his eyes
she revealed again the mocking whitecruel recognition There was a league
between them abhorrent to them both They were implicated with each other in
abhorrent mysteries
»How many scratches have you« he asked showing his hard forearm white and
hard and torn in red gashes
»How really vile« she cried flushing with a sinister vision »Mine is
nothing«
She lifted her arm and showed a deep red score down the silken white flesh
»What a devil« he exclaimed But it was as if he had had knowledge of her
in the long red rent of her forearm so silken and soft He did not want to
touch her He would have to make himself touch her deliberately The long
shallow red rip seemed torn across his own brain tearing the surface of his
ultimate consciousness letting through the forever unconscious unthinkable red
ether of the beyond the obscene beyond
»It doesnt hurt you very much does it« he asked solicitous
»Not at all« she cried
And suddenly the rabbit which had been crouching as if it were a flower so
still and soft suddenly burst into life Round and round the court it went as
if shot from a gun round and round like a furry meteorite in a tense hard
circle that seemed to bind their brains They all stood in amazement smiling
uncannily as if the rabbit were obeying some unknown incantation Round and
round it flew on the grass under the old red walls like a storm
And then quite suddenly it settled down hobbled among the grass and sat
considering its nose twitching like a bit of fluff in the wind After having
considered for a few minutes a soft bunch with a black open eye which perhaps
was looking at them perhaps was not it hobbled calmly forward and began to
nibble the grass with that mean motion of a rabbits quick eating
»Its mad« said Gudrun »It is most decidedly mad«
He laughed
»The question is« he said »what is madness I dont suppose it is
rabbitmad«
»Dont you think it is« she asked
»No Thats what it is to be a rabbit«
There was a queer faint obscene smile over his face She looked at him and
saw him and knew that he was initiate as she was initiate This thwarted her
and contravened her for the moment
»God be praised we arent rabbits« she said in a high shrill voice
The smile intensified a little on his face
»Not rabbits« he said looking at her fixedly
Slowly her face relaxed into a smile of obscene recognition
»Ah Gerald« she said in a strong slow almost manlike way » All that
and more« Her eyes looked up at him with shocking nonchalance
He felt again as if she had hit him across the face or rather as if she
had torn him across the breast dully finally He turned aside
»Eat eat my darling« Winifred was softly conjuring the rabbit and
creeping forward to touch it It hobbled away from her »Let its mother stroke
its fur then darling because it is so mysterious «
Chapter XIX
Moony
After his illness Birkin went to the south of France for a time He did not
write nobody heard anything of him Ursula left alone felt as if everything
were lapsing out There seemed to be no hope in the world One was a tiny little
rock with the tide of nothingness rising higher and higher She herself was
real and only herself just like a rock in a wash of floodwater The rest was
all nothingness She was hard and indifferent isolated in herself
There was nothing for it now but contemptuous resistant indifference All
the world was lapsing into a grey wishwash of nothingness she had no contact
and no connection anywhere She despised and detested the whole show From the
bottom of her heart from the bottom of her soul she despised and detested
people adult people She loved only children and animals children she loved
passionately but coldly They made her want to hug them to protect them to
give them life But this very love based on pity and despair was only a
bondage and a pain to her She loved best of all the animals that were single
and unsocial as she herself was She loved the horses and cows in the field
Each was single and to itself, magical It was not referred away to some
detestable social principle It was incapable of soulfulness and tragedy which
she detested so profoundly
She could be very pleasant and flattering almost subservient to people she
met But no one was taken in Instinctively each felt her contemptuous mockery
of the human being in himself or herself She had a profound grudge against the
human being That which the word human stood for was despicable and repugnant to
her
Mostly her heart was closed in this hidden unconscious strain of
contemptuous ridicule She thought she loved she thought she was full of love
This was her idea of herself But the strange brightness of her presence a
marvellous radiance of intrinsic vitality was a luminousness of supreme
repudiation nothing but repudiation
Yet at moments she yielded and softened she wanted pure love only pure
love This other this state of constant unfailing repudiation was a strain a
suffering also A terrible desire for pure love overcame her again
She went out one evening numbed by this constant essential suffering Those
who are timed for destruction must die now The knowledge of this reached a
finality a finishing in her And the finality released her If fate would carry
off in death or downfall all those who were timed to go why need she trouble
why repudiate any further She was free of it all she could seek a new union
elsewhere
Ursula set off to Willey Green towards the mill She came to Willey Water
It was almost full again after its period of emptiness Then she turned off
through the woods The night had fallen it was dark But she forgot to be
afraid she who had such great sources of fear Among the trees far from any
human beings there was a sort of magic peace The more one could find a pure
loneliness with no taint of people the better one felt She was in reality
terrified horrified in her apprehension of people
She started noticing something on her right hand between the treetrunks
It was like a great presence watching her dodging her She started violently
It was only the moon risen through the thin trees But it seemed so mysterious
with its white and deathly smile And there was no avoiding it Night or day
one could not escape the sinister face triumphant and radiant like this moon
with a high smile She hurried on cowering from the white planet She would
just see the pond at the mill before she went home
Not wanting to go through the yard because of the dogs she turned off
along the hillside to descend on the pond from above The moon was transcendent
over the bare open space she suffered from being exposed to it There was a
glimmer of nightly rabbits across the ground The night was as clear as crystal
and very still She could hear a distant coughing of a sheep
So she swerved down to the steep treehidden bank above the pond where the
alders twisted their roots She was glad to pass into the shade out of the moon
There she stood at the top of the fallenaway bank her hand on the rough trunk
of a tree looking at the water that was perfect in its stillness floating the
moon upon it But for some reason she disliked it It did not give her anything
She listened for the hoarse rustle of the sluice And she wished for something
else out of the night she wanted another night not this moonbrilliant
hardness She could feel her soul crying out in her lamenting desolately
She saw a shadow moving by the water It would be Birkin He had come back
then unawares She accepted it without remark nothing mattered to her She sat
down among the roots of the alder tree dim and veiled hearing the sound of the
sluice like dew distilling audibly into the night The islands were dark and
half revealed the reeds were dark also only some of them had a little frail
fire of reflection A fish leaped secretly revealing the light in the pond
This fire of the chill night breaking constantly on to the pure darkness
repelled her She wished it were perfectly dark perfectly and noiseless and
without motion Birkin small and dark also his hair tinged with moonlight
wandered nearer He was quite near and yet he did not exist in her He did not
know she was there Supposing he did something he would not wish to be seen
doing thinking he was quite private But there what did it matter What did
the small privacies matter How could it matter what he did How can there be
any secrets we are all the same organisms How can there be any secrecy when
everything is known to all of us
He was touching unconsciously the dead husks of flowers as he passed by and
talking disconnectedly to himself
»You cant go away« he was saying »There is no away You only withdraw
upon yourself«
He threw a dead flowerhusk on to the water
»An antiphony they lie and you sing back to them There wouldnt have to
be any truth if there werent any lies Then one neednt assert anything «
He stood still looking at the water and throwing upon it the husks of the
flowers
»Cybele curse her The accursed Syria Dea Does one begrudge it her What
else is there «
Ursula wanted to laugh loudly and hysterically hearing his isolated voice
speaking out It was so ridiculous
He stood staring at the water Then he stooped and picked up a stone which
he threw sharply at the pond Ursula was aware of the bright moon leaping and
swaying all distorted in her eyes It seemed to shoot out arms of fire like a
cuttlefish like a luminous polyp palpitating strongly before her
And his shadow on the border of the pond was watching for a few moments
then he stooped and groped on the ground Then again there was a burst of sound
and a burst of brilliant light the moon had exploded on the water and was
flying asunder in flakes of white and dangerous fire Rapidly like white birds
the fires all broken rose across the pond fleeing in clamorous confusion
battling with the flock of dark waves that were forcing their way in The
furthest waves of light fleeing out seemed to be clamouring against the shore
for escape the waves of darkness came in heavily running under towards the
centre But at the centre the heart of all was still a vivid incandescent
quivering of a white moon not quite destroyed a white body of fire writhing and
striving and not even now broken open not yet violated It seemed to be drawing
itself together with strange violent pangs in blind effort It was getting
stronger it was reasserting itself, the inviolable moon And the rays were
hastening in in thin lines of light to return to the strengthened moon that
shook upon the water in triumphant reassumption
Birkin stood and watched motionless till the pond was almost calm the
moon was almost serene Then satisfied of so much he looked for more stones
She felt his invisible tenacity And in a moment again the broken lights
scattered in explosion over her face dazzling her and then almost
immediately came the second shot The moon leapt up white and burst through the
air Darts of bright light shot asunder darkness swept over the centre There
was no moon only a battlefield of broken lights and shadows running close
together Shadows dark and heavy struck again and again across the place where
the heart of the moon had been obliterating it altogether The white fragments
pulsed up and down and could not find where to go apart and brilliant on the
water like the petals of a rose that a wind has blown far and wide
Yet again they were flickering their way to the centre finding the path
blindly enviously And again all was still as Birkin and Ursula watched The
waters were loud on the shore He saw the moon regathering itself insidiously
saw the heart of the rose intertwining vigorously and blindly calling back the
scattered fragments winning home the fragments in a pulse and in effort of
return
And he was not satisfied Like a madness he must go on He got large
stones and threw them one after the other at the whiteburning centre of the
moon till there was nothing but a rocking of hollow noise and a pond surged
up no moon any more only a few broken flakes tangled and glittering broadcast
in the darkness without aim or meaning a darkened confusion like a black and
white kaleidoscope tossed at random The hollow night was rocking and crashing
with noise and from the sluice came sharp regular flashes of sound Flakes of
light appeared here and there glittering tormented among the shadows far off
in strange places among the dripping shadow of the willow on the island Birkin
stood and listened and was satisfied
Ursula was dazed her mind was all gone She felt she had fallen to the
ground and was spilled out like water on the earth Motionless and spent she
remained in the gloom Though even now she was aware unseeing that in the
darkness was a little tumult of ebbing flakes of light a cluster dancing
secretly in a round twining and coming steadily together They were gathering a
heart again they were coming once more into being Gradually the fragments
caught together reunited heaving rocking dancing falling back as in panic
but working their way home again persistently making semblance of fleeing away
when they had advanced but always flickering nearer a little closer to the
mark the cluster growing mysteriously larger and brighter as gleam after gleam
fell in with the whole until a ragged rose a distorted frayed moon was
shaking upon the waters again reasserted renewed trying to recover from its
convulsion to get over the disfigurement and the agitation to be whole and
composed at peace
Birkin lingered vaguely by the water Ursula was afraid that he would stone
the moon again She slipped from her seat and went down to him saying
»You wont throw stones at it any more will you«
»How long have you been there«
»All the time You wont throw any more stones will you«
»I wanted to see if I could make it be quite gone off the pond« he said
»Yes it was horrible really Why should you hate the moon It hasnt done
you any harm has it«
»Was it hate« he said
And they were silent for a few minutes
»When did you come back« she said
»Today«
»Why did you never write«
»I could find nothing to say«
»Why was there nothing to say«
»I dont know Why are there no daffodils now«
»No«
Again there was a space of silence Ursula looked at the moon It had
gathered itself together and was quivering slightly
»Was it good for you to be alone« she asked
»Perhaps Not that I know much But I got over a good deal Did you do
anything important«
»No I looked at England and thought Id done with it«
»Why England« he asked in surprise
»I dont know it came like that«
»It isnt a question of nations« he said »France is far worse«
»Yes I know I felt Id done with it all«
They went and sat down on the roots of the trees in the shadow And being
silent he remembered the beauty of her eyes which were sometimes filled with
light like spring suffused with wonderful promise So he said to her slowly
with difficulty
»There is a golden light in you which I wish you would give me« It was as
if he had been thinking of this for some time
She was startled she seemed to leap clear of him Yet also she was pleased
»What kind of a light« she asked
But he was shy and did not say any more So the moment passed for this
time And gradually a feeling of sorrow came over her
»My life is unfulfilled« she said
»Yes« he answered briefly not wanting to hear this
»And I feel as if nobody could ever really love me« she said But he did
not answer
»You think dont you« she said slowly »that I only want physical things
It isnt true I want you to serve my spirit«
»I know you do I know you dont want physical things by themselves But I
want you to give me to give your spirit to me that golden light which is you
which you dont know give it me «
After a moments silence she replied
»But how can I you dont love me You only want your own ends You dont
want to serve me and yet you want me to serve you It is so onesided«
It was a great effort to him to maintain this conversation and to press for
the thing he wanted from her the surrender of her spirit
»It is different« he said »The two kinds of service are so different I
serve you in another way not through yourself somewhere else But I want us
to be together without bothering about ourselves to be really together because
we are together as if it were a phenomenon, not a thing we have to maintain by
our own effort«
»No« she said pondering »You are just egocentric You never have any
enthusiasm you never come out with any spark towards me You want yourself
really and your own affairs And you want me just to be there to serve you«
But this only made him shut off from her
»Ah well« he said »words make no matter anyway The thing is between us
or it isnt«
»You dont even love me« she cried
»I do« he said angrily »But I want « His mind saw again the lovely golden
light of spring transfused through her eyes as through some wonderful window
And he wanted her to be with him there in this world of proud indifference But
what was the good of telling her he wanted this company in proud indifference
What was the good of talking anyway It must happen beyond the sound of words
It was merely ruinous to try to work her by conviction This was a paradisal
bird that could never be netted it must fly by itself to the heart
»I always think I am going to be loved and then I am let down You dont
love me you know You dont want to serve me You only want yourself«
A shiver of rage went over his veins at this repeated »You dont want to
serve me« All the paradisal disappeared from him
»No« he said irritated »I dont want to serve you because there is
nothing there to serve What you want me to serve is nothing mere nothing It
isnt even you it is your mere female quality And I wouldnt give a straw for
your female ego its a rag doll«
»Ha« she laughed in mockery »Thats all you think of me is it And then
you have the impudence to say you love me«
She rose in anger to go home
»You want the paradisal unknowing« she said turning round on him as he
still sat half visible in the shadow »I know what that means thank you You
want me to be your thing never to criticise you or to have anything to say for
myself You want me to be a mere thing for you No thank you If you want that
there are plenty of women who will give it to you There are plenty of women who
will lie down for you to walk over them go to them then if thats what you
want go to them«
»No« he said outspoken with anger »I want you to drop your assertive
will your frightened apprehensive selfinsistence that is what I want I want
you to trust yourself so implicitly that you can let yourself go«
»Let myself go« she reechoed in mockery »I can let myself go easily
enough It is you who cant let yourself go it is you who hang on to yourself
as if it were your only treasure You you are the Sunday school teacher You
you preacher«
The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her
»I dont mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way« he said »I
know you can do that But I hate ecstasy Dionysic or any other Its like going
round in a squirrel cage I want you not to care about yourself just to be
there and not to care about yourself not to insist be glad and sure and
indifferent«
»Who insists« she mocked »Who is it that keeps on insisting It isnt me«
There was a weary mocking bitterness in her voice He was silent for some
time
»I know« he said »While ever either of us insists to the other we are all
wrong But there we are the accord doesnt come«
They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank The night
was white around them they were in the darkness barely conscious
Gradually the stillness and peace came over them She put her hand
tentatively on his Their hands clasped softly and silently in peace
»Do you really love me« she said
He laughed
»I call that your warcry« he replied amused
»Why« she cried amused and really wondering
»Your insistence Your warcry A Brangwen A Brangwen an old battlecry
Yours is Do you love me Yield knave or die«
»No« she said pleading »not like that Not like that But I must know
that you love me mustnt I«
»Well then know it and have done with it«
»But do you«
»Yes I do I love you and I know its final It is final so why say any
more about it«
She was silent for some moments in delight and doubt
»Are you sure« she said nestling happily near to him
»Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done«
She was nestled quite close to him
»Have done with what« she murmured happily
»With bothering« he said
She clung nearer to him He held her close and kissed her softly gently
It was such peace and heavenly freedom just to fold her and kiss her gently
and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will just to be still with
her to be perfectly still and together in a peace that was not sleep but
content in bliss To be content in bliss without desire or insistence anywhere
this was heaven to be together in happy stillness
For a long time she nestled to him and he kissed her softly her hair her
face her ears gently softly like dew falling But this warm breath on her
ears disturbed her again kindled the old destructive fires She cleaved to him
and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver
»But well be still shall we« he said
»Yes« she said as if submissively
And she continued to nestle against him
But in a little while she drew away and looked at him
»I must be going home« she said
»Must you how sad« he replied
She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed
»Are you really sad« she murmured smiling
»Yes« he said »I wish we could stay as we were always«
»Always Do you« she murmured as he kissed her And then out of a full
throat she crooned »Kiss me Kiss me« And she cleaved close to him He kissed
her many times But he too had his idea and his will He wanted only gentle
communion no other no passion now So that soon she drew away put on her hat
and went home
The next day however he felt wistful and yearning He thought he had been
wrong perhaps Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he
wanted Was it really only an idea or was it the interpretation of a profound
yearning If the latter how was it he was always talking about sensual
fulfilment The two did not agree very well
Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation It was as simple as
this fatally simple On the one hand he knew he did not want a further sensual
experience something deeper darker than ordinary life could give He
remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Hallidays so often There came
back to him one a statuette about two feet high a tall slim elegant figure
from West Africa in dark wood glossy and suave It was a woman with hair
dressed high like a melonshaped dome He remembered her vividly she was one
of his souls intimates Her body was long and elegant her face was crushed
tiny like a beetles she had rows of round heavy collars like a column of
quoits on her neck He remembered her her astonishing cultured elegance her
diminished beetle face the astounding long elegant body on short ugly legs
with such protuberant buttocks so weighty and unexpected below her slim long
loins She knew what he himself did not know She had thousands of years of
purely sensual purely unspiritual knowledge behind her It must have been
thousands of years since her race had died mystically that is since the
relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken leaving the
experience all in one sort mystically sensual Thousands of years ago that
which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans the
goodness the holiness the desire for creation and productive happiness must
have lapsed leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort mindless
progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the
senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution knowledge such as
the beetles have which live purely within the world of corruption and cold
dissolution This was why her face looked like a beetles this was why the
Egyptians worshipped the ballrolling scarab because of the principle of
knowledge in dissolution and corruption
There is a long way we can travel after the deathbreak after that point
when the soul in intense suffering breaks breaks away from its organic hold
like a leaf that falls We fall from the connection with life and hope we lapse
from pure integral being from creation and liberty and we fall into the long
long African process of purely sensual understanding knowledge in the mystery
of dissolution
He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes
after the death of the creative spirit He realised that there were great
mysteries to be unsealed sensual mindless dreadful mysteries far beyond the
phallic cult How far in their inverted culture had these West Africans gone
beyond phallic knowledge Very very far Birkin recalled again the female
figure the elongated long long body the curious unexpected heavy buttocks
the long imprisoned neck the face with tiny features like a beetles This was
far beyond any phallic knowledge sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope
of phallic investigation
There remained this way this awful African process to be fulfilled It
would be done differently by the white races The white races having the Arctic
north behind them the vast abstraction of ice and snow would fulfil a mystery
of icedestructive knowledge snowabstract annihilation Whereas the West
Africans controlled by the burning deathabstraction of the Sahara had been
fulfilled in sundestruction the putrescent mystery of sunrays
Was this then all that remained Was there left now nothing but to break off
from the happy creative being was the time up Is our day of creative life
finished Does there remain to us only the strange awful afterwards of the
knowledge in dissolution the African knowledge but different in us, who are
blond and blueeyed from the north
Birkin thought of Gerald He was one of these strange white wonderful demons
from the north fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery And was he fated to
pass away in this knowledge this one process of frostknowledge death by
perfect cold Was he a messenger an omen of the universal dissolution into
whiteness and snow
Birkin was frightened He was tired too when he had reached this length of
speculation Suddenly his strange strained attention gave way he could not
attend to these mysteries any more There was another way the way of freedom
There was the paradisal entry into pure single being the individual soul
taking precedence over love and desire for union stronger than any pangs of
emotion a lovely state of free proud singleness which accepted the obligation
of the permanent connection with others and with the other submits to the yoke
and leash of love but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness even
while it loves and yields
There was the other way the remaining way And he must run to follow it He
thought of Ursula how sensitive and delicate she really was her skin so
overfine as if one skin were wanting She was really so marvellously gentle
and sensitive Why did he ever forget it He must go to her at once He must ask
her to marry him They must marry at once and so make a definite pledge enter
into a definite communion He must set out at once and ask her this moment
There was no moment to spare
He drifted on swiftly to Beldover half unconscious of his own movement He
saw the town on the slope of the hill not straggling but as if walledin with
the straight final streets of miners dwellings making a great square and it
looked like Jerusalem to his fancy The world was all strange and transcendent
Rosalind opened the door to him She started slightly as a young girl will
and said
»Oh Ill tell father«
With which she disappeared leaving Birkin in the hall looking at some
reproductions from Picasso lately introduced by Gudrun He was admiring the
almost wizard sensuous apprehension of the earth when Will Brangwen appeared
rolling down his shirtsleeves
»Well« said Brangwen »Ill get a coat« And he too disappeared for a
moment Then he returned and opened the door of the drawingroom saying
»You must excuse me I was just doing a bit of work in the shed Come
inside will you«
Birkin entered and sat down He looked at the bright reddish face of the
other man at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes and at the rather
sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache
How curious it was that this was a human being What Brangwen thought himself to
be how meaningless it was confronted with the reality of him Birkin could see
only a strange inexplicable almost patternless collection of passions and
desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas all cast unfused
and disunited into this slender brightfaced man of nearly fifty who was as
unresolved now as he was at twenty and as uncreated How could he be the parent
of Ursula when he was not created himself He was not a parent A slip of
living flesh had been transmitted through him but the spirit had not come from
him The spirit had not come from any ancestor it had come out of the unknown
A child is the child of the mystery or it is uncreated
»The weathers not so bad as it has been« said Brangwen after waiting a
moment There was no connection between the two men
»No« said Birkin »It was full moon two days ago«
»Oh You believe in the moon then affecting the weather«
»No I dont think I do I dont really know enough about it«
»You know what they say The moon and the weather may change together but
the change of the moon wont change the weather«
»Is that it« said Birkin »I hadnt heard it«
There was a pause Then Birkin said
»Am I hindering you I called to see Ursula really Is she at home«
»I dont believe she is I believe shes gone to the library Ill just
see«
Birkin could hear him enquiring in the diningroom
»No« he said coming back »But she wont be long You wanted to speak to
her«
Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm clear eyes
»As a matter of fact,« he said »I wanted to ask her to marry me«
A point of light came on the goldenbrown eyes of the elder man
»Ooh« he said looking at Birkin then dropping his eyes before the calm
steadily watching look of the other »Was she expecting you then«
»No« said Birkin
»No I didnt know anything of this sort was on foot « Brangwen smiled
awkwardly
Birkin looked back at him and said to himself »I wonder why it should be
on foot« Aloud he said
»No its perhaps rather sudden« At which thinking of his relationship
with Ursula he added »but I dont know «
»Quite sudden is it Oh« said Brangwen rather baffled and annoyed
»In one way« replied Birkin » not in another«
There was a moments pause after which Brangwen said
»Well she pleases herself «
»Oh yes« said Birkin calmly
A vibration came into Brangwens strong voice as he replied
»Though I shouldnt want her to be in too big a hurry either Its no good
looking round afterwards when its too late«
»Oh it need never be too late« said Birkin »as far as that goes«
»How do you mean« asked the father
»If one repents being married the marriage is at an end« said Birkin
»You think so«
»Yes«
»Ay well that may be your way of looking at it«
Birkin in silence thought to himself »So it may As for your way of
looking at it William Brangwen it needs a little explaining«
»I suppose« said Brangwen »you know what sort of people we are What sort
of a bringingup shes had«
»She« thought Birkin to himself remembering his childhoods corrections
»is the cats mother«
»Do I know what sort of a bringingup shes had« he said aloud
He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally
»Well« he said »shes had everything thats right for a girl to have as
far as possible as far as we could give it her«
»Im sure she has« said Birkin which caused a perilous fullstop The
father was becoming exasperated There was something naturally irritant to him
in Birkins mere presence
»And I dont want to see her going back on it all« he said in a clanging
voice
»Why« said Birkin
This monosyllable exploded in Brangwens brain like a shot
»Why I dont believe in your newfangled ways and newfangled ideas in
and out like a frog in a gallipot It would never do for me«
Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes The radical antagonism in
the two men was rousing
»Yes but are my ways and ideas newfangled« asked Birkin
»Are they« Brangwen caught himself up »Im not speaking of you in
particular« he said »What I mean is that my children have been brought up to
think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself and I dont
want to see them going away from that«
There was a dangerous pause
»And beyond that « asked Birkin
The father hesitated he was in a nasty position
»Eh What do you mean All I want to say is that my daughter« he tailed
off into silence overcome by futility He knew that in some way he was off the
track
»Of course« said Birkin »I dont want to hurt anybody or influence
anybody Ursula does exactly as she pleases«
There was a complete silence because of the utter failure in mutual
understanding Birkin felt bored Her father was not a coherent human being he
was a roomful of old echoes The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of
the elder Brangwen looked up and saw Birkin looking at him His face was
covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in
strength
»And as for beliefs thats one thing« he said »But Id rather see my
daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the
first man that likes to come and whistle for them«
A queer painful light came into Birkins eyes
»As to that« he said »I only know that its much more likely that its I
who am the beck and call of the woman than she at mine«
Again there was a pause The father was somewhat bewildered
»I know« he said »shell please herself she always has done Ive done
my best for them but that doesnt matter Theyve got themselves to please and
if they can help it theyll please nobody but themselves But shes a right to
consider her mother and me as well «
Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts
»And I tell you this much I would rather bury them than see them getting
into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays Id rather bury
them «
»Yes but you see« said Birkin slowly rather wearily bored again by this
new turn »they wont give either you or me the chance to bury them because
theyre not to be buried«
Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger
»Now Mr Birkin« he said »I dont know what youve come here for and I
dont know what youre asking for But my daughters are my daughters and its
my business to look after them while I can«
Birkins brows knitted suddenly his eyes concentrated in mockery But he
remained perfectly stiff and still There was a pause
»Ive nothing against your marrying Ursula« Brangwen began at length »Its
got nothing to do with me shell do as she likes me or no me«
Birkin turned away looking out of the window and letting go his
consciousness After all what good was this It was hopeless to keep it up He
would sit on till Ursula came home then speak to her then go away He would
not accept trouble at the hands of her father It was all unnecessary and he
himself need not have provoked it
The two men sat in complete silence Birkin almost unconscious of his own
whereabouts He had come to ask her to marry him well then he would wait on
and ask her As for what she said whether she accepted or not he did not think
about it He would say what he had come to say and that was all he was
conscious of He accepted the complete insignificance of this household for him
But everything now was as if fated He could see one thing ahead and no more
From the rest he was absolved entirely for the time being It had to be left to
fate and chance to resolve the issues
At length they heard the gate They saw her coming up the steps with a
bundle of books under her arm Her face was bright and abstracted as usual with
the abstraction that look of being not quite there not quite present to the
facts of reality that galled her father so much She had a maddening faculty of
assuming a light of her own which excluded the reality, and within which she
looked radiant as if in sunshine
They heard her go into the diningroom and drop her armful of books on the
table
»Did you bring me that Girls Own« cried Rosalind
»Yes I brought it But I forgot which one it was you wanted«
»You would« cried Rosalind angrily »Its right for a wonder«
Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone
»Where« cried Ursula
Again her sisters voice was muffled
Brangwen opened the door and called in his strong brazen voice
»Ursula«
She appeared in a moment wearing her hat
»Oh how do you do« she cried seeing Birkin and all dazzled as if taken
by surprise He wondered at her knowing she was aware of his presence She had
her queer radiant breathless manner as if confused by the actual world
unreal to it having a complete bright world of her self alone
»Have I interrupted a conversation« she asked
»No only a complete silence« said Birkin
»Oh« said Ursula vaguely absent Their presence was not vital to her she
was withheld she did not take them in It was a subtle insult that never failed
to exasperate her father
»Mr Birkin came to speak to you not to me« said her father
»Oh did he« she exclaimed vaguely as if it did not concern her Then
recollecting herself she turned to him rather radiantly but still quite
superficially and said »Was it anything special«
»I hope so« he said ironically
» To propose to you according to all accounts« said her father
»Oh« said Ursula
»Oh« mocked her father imitating her »Have you nothing more to say«
She winced as if violated
»Did you really come to propose to me« she asked of Birkin as if it were a
joke
»Yes« he said »I suppose I came to propose« He seemed to fight shy of the
last word
»Did you« she cried with her vague radiance He might have been saying
anything whatsoever She seemed pleased
»Yes« he answered »I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me«
She looked at him His eyes were flickering with mixed lights wanting
something of her yet not wanting it She shrank a little as if she were
exposed to his eyes and as if it were a pain to her She darkened her soul
clouded over she turned aside She had been driven out of her own radiant
single world And she dreaded contact it was almost unnatural to her at these
times
»Yes« she said vaguely in a doubting absent voice
Birkins heart contracted swiftly in a sudden fire of bitterness It all
meant nothing to her He had been mistaken again She was in some selfsatisfied
world of her own He and his hopes were accidentals violations to her It drove
her father to a pitch of mad exasperation He had had to put up with this all
his life from her
»Well what do you say« he cried
She winced Then she glanced down at her father half frightened and she
said
»I didnt speak did I« as if she were afraid she might have committed
herself
»No« said her father exasperated »But you neednt look like an idiot
Youve got your wits havent you«
She ebbed away in silent hostility
»Ive got my wits what does that mean« she repeated in a sullen voice of
antagonism
»You heard what was asked you didnt you« cried her father in anger
»Of course I heard«
»Well then cant you answer« thundered her father
»Why should I«
At the impertinence of this retort he went stiff But he said nothing
»No« said Birkin to help out the occasion »theres no need to answer at
once You can say when you like«
Her eyes flashed with a powerful light
»Why should I say anything« she cried »You do this off your own bat it
has nothing to do with me Why do you both want to bully me«
»Bully you Bully you« cried her father in bitter rancorous anger »Bully
you Why its a pity you cant be bullied into some sense and decency Bully
you Youll see to that you selfwilled creature«
She stood suspended in the middle of the room her face glimmering and
dangerous She was set in satisfied defiance Birkin looked up at her He too
was angry
»But no one is bullying you« he said in a very soft dangerous voice also
»Oh yes« she cried »You both want to force me into something«
»That is an illusion of yours« he said ironically
»Illusion« cried her father »A self-opinionated fool thats what she is«
Birkin rose saying
»However well leave it for the time being«
And without another word he walked out of the house
»You fool You fool« her father cried to her with extreme bitterness She
left the room and went upstairs singing to herself But she was terribly
fluttered as after some dreadful fight From her window she could see Birkin
going up the road He went in such a blithe drift of rage that her mind wondered
over him He was ridiculous but she was afraid of him She was as if escaped
from some danger
Her father sat below powerless in humiliation and chagrin It was as if he
were possessed with all the devils after one of these unaccountable conflicts
with Ursula He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last
degree He had all hell in his heart But he went away to escape himself He
knew he must despair yield give in to despair and have done
Ursulas face closed she completed herself against them all Recoiling upon
herself she became hard and selfcompleted like a jewel She was bright and
invulnerable quite free and happy perfectly liberated in her selfpossession
Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness or it would have
sent him mad She was so radiant with all things in her possession of perfect
hostility
She would go on now for days like this in this bright frank state of
seemingly pure spontaneity so essentially oblivious of the existence of
anything but herself but so ready and facile in her interest Ah it was a
bitter thing for a man to be near her and her father cursed his fatherhood But
he must learn not to see her not to know
She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state so bright
and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition so very pure and yet
mistrusted by everybody disliked on every hand It was her voice curiously
clear and repellant that gave her away Only Gudrun was in accord with her It
was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete
as if their intelligence were one They felt a strong bright bond of
understanding between them surpassing everything else And during all these
days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters the father
seemed to breathe an air of death as if he were destroyed in his very being He
was irritable to madness he could not rest his daughters seemed to be
destroying him But he was inarticulate and helpless against them He was forced
to breathe the air of his own death He cursed them in his soul and only wanted
that they should be removed from him
They continued radiant in their easy female transcendency beautiful to look
at They exchanged confidences they were intimate in their revelations to the
last degree giving each other at last every secret They withheld nothing they
told everything till they were over the border of evil And they armed each
other with knowledge they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of
knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary that of each to
that of the other
Ursula saw her men as sons pitied their yearning and admired their courage
and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child with a certain
delight in their novelty But to Gudrun they were the opposite camp She feared
them and despised them and respected their activities even overmuch
»Of course« she said easily »there is a quality of life in Birkin which is
quite remarkable There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him really
amazing the way he can give himself to things But there are so many things in
life that he simply doesnt know Either he is not aware of their existence at
all or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the
other person In a way he is not clever enough he is too intense in spots«
»Yes« cried Ursula »too much of a preacher He is really a priest«
»Exactly He cant hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot
hear His own voice is so loud«
»Yes He cries you down«
»He cries you down« repeated Gudrun »And by mere force of violence And of
course it is hopeless Nobody is convinced by violence It makes talking to him
impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible«
»You dont think one could live with him« asked Ursula
»I think it would be too wearing too exhausting One would be shouted down
every time and rushed into his way without any choice He would want to control
you entirely He cannot allow that there is any other mind than his own And
then the real clumsiness of his mind is its lack of self-criticism No I think
it would be perfectly intolerable«
»Yes« assented Ursula vaguely She only half agreed with Gudrun »The
nuisance is« she said »that one would find almost any man intolerable after a
fortnight«
»Its perfectly dreadful« said Gudrun »But Birkin he is too positive He
couldnt bear it if you called your soul your own Of him that is strictly
true«
»Yes« said Ursula »You must have his soul«
»Exactly And what can you conceive more deadly« This was all so true that
Ursula felt jarred to the bottom of her soul with ugly distaste
She went on with the discord jarring and jolting through her in the most
barren of misery
Then there started a revulsion from Gudrun She finished life off so
thoroughly she made things so ugly and so final As a matter of fact, even if
it were as Gudrun said about Birkin other things were true as well But Gudrun
would draw two lines under him and cross him out like an account that is
settled There he was summed up paid for settled done with And it was such
a lie This finality of Gudruns this dispatching of people and things in a
sentence it was all such a lie Ursula began to revolt from her sister
One day as they were walking along the lane they saw a robin sitting on the
top twig of a bush singing shrilly The sisters stood to look at him An
ironical smile flickered on Gudruns face
»Doesnt he feel important« smiled Gudrun
»Doesnt he« exclaimed Ursula with a little ironical grimace »Isnt he a
little Lloyd George of the air«
»Isnt he little Lloyd George of the air Thats just what they are« cried
Gudrun in delight Then for days Ursula saw the persistent obtrusive birds as
stout short politicians lifting up their voices from the platform little men
who must make themselves heard at any cost
But even from this there came the revulsion Some yellowhammers suddenly
shot along the road in front of her And they looked to her so uncanny and
inhuman like flaring yellow barbs shooting through the air on some weird
living errand that she said to herself »After all it is impudence to call
them little Lloyd Georges They are really unknown to us they are the unknown
forces It is impudence to look at them as if they were the same as human
beings They are of another world How stupid anthropomorphism is Gudrun is
really impudent insolent making herself the measure of everything making
everything come down to human standards Rupert is quite right human beings are
boring painting the universe with their own image The universe is nonhuman
thank God« It seemed to her irreverence destructive of all true life to make
little Lloyd Georges of the birds It was such a lie towards the robins and
such a defamation Yet she had done it herself But under Gudruns influence so
she exonerated herself
So she withdrew away from Gudrun and from that which she stood for she
turned in spirit towards Birkin again She had not seen him since the fiasco of
his proposal She did not want to because she did not want the question of her
acceptance thrust upon her She knew what Birkin meant when he asked her to
marry him vaguely without putting it into speech she knew She knew what kind
of love what kind of surrender he wanted And she was not at all sure that this
was the kind of love that she herself wanted She was not at all sure that it
was this mutual unison in separateness that she wanted She wanted unspeakable
intimacies She wanted to have him utterly finally to have him as her own oh
so unspeakably in intimacy To drink him down ah like a lifedraught She
made great professions to herself of her willingness to warm his footsoles
between her breasts after the fashion of the nauseous Meredith poem But only
on condition that he her lover loved her absolutely with complete
selfabandon And subtly enough she knew he would never abandon himself finally
to her He did not believe in final selfabandonment He said it openly It was
his challenge She was prepared to fight him for it For she believed in an
absolute surrender to love She believed that love far surpassed the individual.
He said the individual was more than love or than any relationship For him
the bright single soul accepted love as one of its conditions a condition of
its own equilibrium She believed that love was everything Man must render
himself up to her He must be quaffed to the dregs by her Let him be her man
utterly and she in return would be his humble slave whether she wanted it or
not
Chapter XX
Gladiatorial
After the fiasco of the proposal Birkin had hurried blindly away from Beldover
in a whirl of fury He felt he had been a complete fool that the whole scene
had been a farce of the first water But that did not trouble him at all He was
deeply mockingly angry that Ursula persisted always in this old cry »Why do
you want to bully me« and in her bright insolent abstraction
He went straight to Shortlands There he found Gerald standing with his back
to the fire in the library as motionless as a man is who is completely and
emptily restless utterly hollow He had done all the work he wanted to do and
now there was nothing He could go out in the car he could run to town But he
did not want to go out in the car he did not want to run to town he did not
want to call on the Thirlbys He was suspended motionless in an agony of
inertia like a machine that is without power
This was very bitter to Gerald who had never known what boredom was who
had gone from activity to activity never at a loss Now gradually everything
seemed to be stopping in him He did not want any more to do the things that
offered Something dead within him just refused to respond to any suggestion He
cast over in his mind what it would be possible to do to save himself from this
misery of nothingness relieve the stress of this hollowness And there were
only three things left that would rouse him make him live One was to drink or
smoke hashish the other was to be soothed by Birkin and the third was women
And there was no one for the moment to drink with Nor was there a woman And he
knew Birkin was out So there was nothing to do but to bear the stress of his
own emptiness
When he saw Birkin his face lit up in a sudden wonderful smile
»By God Rupert« he said »Id just come to the conclusion that nothing in
the world mattered except somebody to take the edge off ones being alone the
right somebody«
The smile in his eyes was very astonishing as he looked at the other man It
was the pure gleam of relief His face was pallid and even haggard
»The right woman I suppose you mean« said Birkin spitefully
»Of course for choice Failing that an amusing man«
He laughed as he said it Birkin sat down near the fire
»What were you doing« he asked
»I Nothing Im in a bad way just now everythings on edge and I can
neither work nor play I dont know whether its a sign of old age Im sure«
»You mean you are bored«
»Bored I dont know I cant apply myself And I feel the devil is either
very present inside me or dead«
Birkin glanced up and looked in his eyes
»You should try hitting something« he said
Gerald smiled
»Perhaps« he said »So long as it was something worth hitting«
»Quite« said Birkin in his soft voice There was a long pause during which
each could feel the presence of the other
»One has to wait« said Birkin
»Ah God Waiting What are we waiting for«
»Some old Johnny says there are three cures for ennui sleep drink and
travel« said Birkin
»All cold eggs« said Gerald »In sleep you dream in drink you curse and
in travel you yell at a porter No work and love are the two When youre not
at work you should be in love«
»Be it then« said Birkin
»Give me the object,« said Gerald »The possibilities of love exhaust
themselves«
»Do they And then what«
»Then you die« said Gerald
»So you ought« said Birkin
»I dont see it« replied Gerald He took his hands out of his trousers
pockets and reached for a cigarette He was tense and nervous He lit the
cigarette over a lamp reaching forward and drawing steadily He was dressed for
dinner as usual in the evening although he was alone
»Theres a third one even to your two« said Birkin »Work love and
fighting You forget the fight«
»I suppose I do« said Gerald »Did you ever do any boxing «
»No I dont think I did« said Birkin
»Ay « Gerald lifted his head and blew the smoke slowly into the air
»Why« said Birkin
»Nothing I thought we might have a round It is perhaps true that I want
something to hit Its a suggestion«
»So you think you might as well hit me« said Birkin
»You Well Perhaps in a friendly kind of way of course«
»Quite« said Birkin bitingly
Gerald stood leaning back against the mantelpiece He looked down at Birkin
and his eyes flashed with a sort of terror like the eyes of a stallion that are
bloodshot and overwrought turned glancing backwards in a stiff terror
»I feel that if I dont watch myself I shall find myself doing something
silly« he said
»Why not do it« said Birkin coldly
Gerald listened with quick impatience He kept glancing down at Birkin as
if looking for something from the other man
»I used to do some Japanese wrestling« said Birkin »A Jap lived in the
same house with me in Heidelberg and he taught me a little But I was never
much good at it«
»You did« exclaimed Gerald »Thats one of the things Ive never ever seen
done You mean jiujitsu I suppose«
»Yes But I am no good at those things they dont interest me«
»They dont They do me Whats the start«
»Ill show you what I can if you like« said Birkin
»You will« A queer smiling look tightened Geralds face for a moment as he
said »Well Id like it very much«
»Then well try jiujitsu Only you cant do much starched shirt«
»Then let us strip and do it properly Hold a minute « He rang the bell
and waited for the butler
»Bring a couple of sandwiches and a syphon« he said to the man »and then
dont trouble me any more tonight or let anybody else«
The man went Gerald turned to Birkin with his eyes lighted
»And you used to wrestle with a Jap« he said »Did you strip«
»Sometimes«
»You did What was he like then as a wrestler«
»Good I believe I am no judge He was very quick and slippery and full of
electric fire It is a remarkable thing what a curious sort of fluid force they
seem to have in them those people not like a human grip like a polyp «
Gerald nodded
»I should imagine so« he said »to look at them They repel me rather«
»Repel and attract both They are very repulsive when they are cold and
they look grey But when they are hot and roused there is a definite attraction
a curious kind of full electric fluid like eels«
»Well yes probably«
The man brought in the tray and set it down
»Dont come in any more« said Gerald
The door closed
»Well then« said Gerald »shall we strip and begin Will you have a drink
first«
»No I dont want one«
»Neither do I«
Gerald fastened the door and pushed the furniture aside The room was large
there was plenty of space, it was thickly carpeted Then he quickly threw off
his clothes and waited for Birkin The latter white and thin came over to him
Birkin was more a presence than a visible object Gerald was aware of him
completely but not really visually Whereas Gerald himself was concrete and
noticeable a piece of pure final substance
»Now« said Birkin »I will show you what I learned and what I remember
You let me take you so « And his hands closed on the naked body of the other
man In another moment he had Gerald swung over lightly and balanced against
his knee head downwards Relaxed Gerald sprang to his feet with eyes
glittering
»Thats smart« he said »Now try again«
So the two men began to struggle together They were very dissimilar Birkin
was tall and narrow his bones were very thin and fine Gerald was much heavier
and more plastic His bones were strong and round his limbs were rounded all
his contours were beautifully and fully moulded He seemed to stand with a
proper rich weight on the face of the earth whilst Birkin seemed to have the
centre of gravitation in his own middle And Gerald had a rich frictional kind
of strength rather mechanical but sudden and invincible whereas Birkin was
abstract as to be almost intangible He impinged invisibly upon the other man
scarcely seeming to touch him like a garment and then suddenly piercing in a
tense fine grip that seemed to penetrate into the very quick of Geralds being
They stopped they discussed methods they practised grips and throws they
became accustomed to each other to each others rhythm they got a kind of
mutual physical understanding And then again they had a real struggle They
seemed to drive their white flesh deeper and deeper against each other as if
they would break into a oneness Birkin had a great subtle energy that would
press upon the other man with an uncanny force weigh him like a spell put upon
him Then it would pass and Gerald would heave free with white heaving
dazzling movements
So the two men entwined and wrestled with each other working nearer and
nearer Both were white and clear but Gerald flushed smart red where he was
touched and Birkin remained white and tense He seemed to penetrate into
Geralds more solid more diffuse bulk to interfuse his body through the body
of the other as if to bring it subtly into subjection always seizing with some
rapid necromantic foreknowledge every motion of the other flesh converting and
counteracting it playing upon the limbs and trunk of Gerald like some hard
wind It was as if Birkins whole physical intelligence interpenetrated into
Geralds body as if his fine sublimated energy entered into the flesh of the
fuller man like some potency casting a fine net a prison through the muscles
into the very depths of Geralds physical being
So they wrestled swiftly rapturously intent and mindless at last two
essential white figures working into a tighter closer oneness of struggle with
a strange octopuslike knotting and flashing of limbs in the subdued light of
the room a tense white knot of flesh gripped in silence between the walls of
old brown books Now and again came a sharp gasp of breath or a sound like a
sigh then the rapid thudding of movement on the thicklycarpeted floor then
the strange sound of flesh escaping under flesh Often in the white interlaced
knot of violent living being that swayed silently there was no head to be seen
only the swift tight limbs the solid white backs the physical junction of two
bodies clinched into oneness Then would appear the gleaming ruffled head of
Gerald as the struggle changed then for a moment the duncoloured shadowlike
head of the other man would lift up from the conflict the eyes wide and
dreadful and sightless
At length Gerald lay back inert on the carpet his breast rising in great
slow panting whilst Birkin kneeled over him almost unconscious Birkin was
much more exhausted He caught little short breaths he could scarcely breathe
any more The earth seemed to tilt and sway and a complete darkness was coming
over his mind He did not know what happened He slid forward quite unconscious
over Gerald and Gerald did not notice Then he was half conscious again aware
only of the strange tilting and sliding of the world The world was sliding
everything was sliding off into the darkness And he was sliding endlessly
endlessly away
He came to consciousness again hearing an immense knocking outside What
could be happening what was it the great hammerstroke resounding through the
house He did not know And then it came to him that it was his own heart
beating But that seemed impossible the noise was outside No it was inside
himself it was his own heart And the beating was painful so strained
surcharged He wondered if Gerald heard it He did not know whether he were
standing or lying or falling
When he realised that he had fallen prostrate upon Geralds body he
wondered he was surprised But he sat up steadying himself with his hand and
waiting for his heart to become stiller and less painful It hurt very much and
took away his consciousness
Gerald however was still less conscious than Birkin They waited dimly in
a sort of notbeing for many uncounted unknown minutes
»Of course « panted Gerald »I didnt have to be rough with you I had
to keep back my force «
Birkin heard the sound as if his own spirit stood behind him outside him
and listened to it His body was in a trance of exhaustion his spirit heard
thinly His body could not answer Only he knew his heart was getting quieter
He was divided entirely between his spirit which stood outside and knew and
his body that was a plunging unconscious stroke of blood
»I could have thrown you using violence « panted Gerald »But you beat me
right enough«
»Yes« said Birkin hardening his throat and producing the words in the
tension there »youre much stronger than I you could beat me easily«
Then he relaxed again to the terrible plunging of his heart and his blood
»It surprised me« panted Gerald »what strength youve got Almost
supernatural«
»For a moment« said Birkin
He still heard as if it were his own disembodied spirit hearing standing at
some distance behind him It drew nearer however his spirit And the violent
striking of blood in his chest was sinking quieter allowing his mind to come
back He realised that he was leaning with all his weight on the soft body of
the other man It startled him because he thought he had withdrawn He
recovered himself and sat up But he was still vague and unestablished He put
out his hand to steady himself It touched the hand of Gerald that was lying
out on the floor And Geralds hand closed warm and sudden over Birkins they
remained exhausted and breathless the one hand clasped closely over the other
It was Birkin whose hand in swift response had closed in a strong warm clasp
over the hand of the other Geralds clasp had been sudden and momentaneous
The normal consciousness however was returning ebbing back Birkin could
breathe almost naturally again Geralds hand slowly withdrew Birkin slowly
dazedly rose to his feet and went towards the table He poured out a whisky and
soda Gerald also came for a drink
»It was a real setto wasnt it« said Birkin looking at Gerald with
darkened eyes
»God yes« said Gerald He looked at the delicate body of the other man
and added »It wasnt too much for you was it«
»No One ought to wrestle and strive and be physically close It makes one
sane«
»You do think so«
»I do Dont you«
»Yes« said Gerald
There were long spaces of silence between their words The wrestling had
some deep meaning to them an unfinished meaning
»We are mentally spiritually intimate therefore we should be more or less
physically intimate too it is more whole«
»Certainly it is« said Gerald Then he laughed pleasantly adding »Its
rather wonderful to me« He stretched out his arms handsomely
»Yes« said Birkin »I dont know why one should have to justify oneself«
»No«
The two men began to dress
»I think also that you are beautiful« said Birkin to Gerald »and that is
enjoyable too One should enjoy what is given.«
»You think I am beautiful how do you mean physically« asked Gerald his
eyes glistening
»Yes You have a northern kind of beauty like light refracted from snow
and a beautiful plastic form Yes that is there to enjoy as well We should
enjoy everything«
Gerald laughed in his throat and said
»Thats certainly one way of looking at it I can say this much I feel
better It has certainly helped me Is this the Brüderschaft you wanted«
»Perhaps Do you think this pledges anything«
»I dont know« laughed Gerald
»At any rate one feels freer and more open now and that is what we want«
»Certainly« said Gerald
They drew to the fire with the decanters and the glasses and the food
»I always eat a little before I go to bed« said Gerald »I sleep better«
»I should not sleep so well« said Birkin
»No There you are we are not alike Ill put a dressinggown on« Birkin
remained alone looking at the fire His mind had reverted to Ursula She seemed
to return again into his consciousness Gerald came down wearing a gown of
broadbarred thick blackandgreen silk brilliant and striking
»You are very fine« said Birkin looking at the full robe
»It was a caftan in Bokhara« said Gerald »I like it«
»I like it too«
Birkin was silent thinking how scrupulous Gerald was in his attire how
expensive too He wore silk socks and studs of fine workmanship and silk
underclothing and silk braces Curious This was another of the differences
between them Birkin was careless and unimaginative about his own appearance
»Of course you« said Gerald as if he had been thinking »theres something
curious about you Youre curiously strong One doesnt expect it it is rather
surprising«
Birkin laughed He was looking at the handsome figure of the other man
blond and comely in the rich robe and he was half thinking of the difference
between it and himself so different as far perhaps apart as man from woman
yet in another direction But really it was Ursula it was the woman who was
gaining ascendance over Birkins being at this moment Gerald was becoming dim
again lapsing out of him
»Do you know« he said suddenly »I went and proposed to Ursula Brangwen
tonight that she should marry me«
He saw the blank shining wonder come over Geralds face
»You did«
»Yes Almost formally speaking first to her father as it should be in
the world though that was accident or mischief«
Gerald only stared in wonder as if he did not grasp
»You dont mean to say that you seriously went and asked her father to let
you marry her«
»Yes« said Birkin »I did«
»What had you spoken to her before about it then«
»No not a word I suddenly thought I would go there and ask her and her
father happened to come instead of her so I asked him first«
»If you could have her« concluded Gerald
»Yees that«
»And you didnt speak to her«
»Yes She came in afterwards So it was put to her as well«
»It was And what did she say then Youre an engaged man«
»No she only said she didnt want to be bullied into answering«
»She what«
»Said she didnt want to be bullied into answering«
»Said she didnt want to be bullied into answering Why what did she mean
by that«
Birkin raised his shoulders »Cant say« he answered »Didnt want to be
bothered just then I suppose«
»But is this really so And what did you do then«
»I walked out of the house and came here«
»You came straight here«
»Yes«
Gerald stared in amazement and amusement He could not take it in
»But is this really true as you say it now«
»Word for word«
»It is«
He leaned back in his chair filled with delight and amusement
»Well thats good« he said »And so you came here to wrestle with your
good angel did you«
»Did I« said Birkin
»Well it looks like it Isnt that what you did«
Now Birkin could not follow Geralds meaning
»And whats going to happen« said Gerald »Youre going to keep open the
proposition, so to speak«
»I suppose so I vowed to myself I would see them all to the devil But I
suppose I shall ask her again in a little while«
Gerald watched him steadily
»So youre fond of her then« he asked
»I think I love her« said Birkin his face going very still and fixed
Gerald glistened for a moment with pleasure as if it were something done
specially to please him Then his face assumed a fitting gravity and he nodded
his head slowly
»You know« he said »I always believed in love true love But where does
one find it nowadays«
»I dont know« said Birkin
»Very rarely« said Gerald Then after a pause »Ive never felt it myself
not what I should call love Ive gone after women and been keen enough over
some of them But Ive never felt love I dont believe Ive ever felt as much
love for a woman as I have for you not love You understand what I mean«
»Yes Im sure youve never loved a woman«
»You feel that do you And do you think I ever shall You understand what I
mean« He put his hand to his breast closing his fist there as if he would
draw something out »I mean that that I cant express what it is but I know
it«
»What is it then« asked Birkin
»You see I cant put it into words I mean at any rate something abiding
something that cant change «
His eyes were bright and puzzled
»Now do you think I shall ever feel that for a woman« he said anxiously
Birkin looked at him and shook his head
»I dont know« he said »I could not say«
Gerald had been on the qui vive as awaiting his fate Now he drew back in
his chair
»No« he said »and neither do I and neither do I«
»We are different you and I« said Birkin »I cant tell your life«
»No« said Gerard »no more can I But I tell you I begin to doubt it«
»That you will ever love a woman«
»Well yes what you would truly call love «
»You doubt it«
»Well I begin to«
There was a long pause
»Life has all kinds of things« said Birkin »There isnt only one road«
»Yes I believe that too I believe it And mind you I dont care how it is
with me I dont care how it is so long as I dont feel « he paused and a
blank barren look passed over his face to express his feeling »so long as I
feel Ive lived somehow and I dont care how it is but I want to feel that
«
»Fulfilled« said Birkin
»Weell perhaps it is fulfilled I dont use the same words as you«
»It is the same«
Chapter XXI
Threshold
Gudrun was away in London having a little show of her work with a friend and
looking round preparing for flight from Beldover Come what might she would be
on the wing in a very short time She received a letter from Winifred Crich
ornamented with drawings
»Father also has been to London to be examined by the doctors It made him
very tired They say he must rest a very great deal so he is mostly in bed He
brought me a lovely tropical parrot in faiënce of Dresden ware also a man
ploughing and two mice climbing up a stalk also in faiënce The mice were
Copenhagen ware They are the best but mice dont shine so much otherwise they
are very good their tails are slim and long They all shine nearly like glass
Of course it is the glaze but I dont like it Gerald likes the man ploughing
the best his trousers are torn he is ploughing with an ox being I suppose a
German peasant It is all grey and white white shirt and grey trousers but
very shiny and clean Mr Birkin likes the girl best under the hawthorn
blossom with a lamb and with daffodils painted on her skirts in the
drawingroom But that is silly because the lamb is not a real lamb and she is
silly too
Dear Miss Brangwen are you coming back soon you are very much missed here
I enclose a drawing of father sitting up in bed He says he hopes you are not
going to forsake us Oh dear Miss Brangwen I am sure you wont Do come back
and draw the ferrets they are the most lovely noble darlings in the world We
might carve them in hollywood playing against a background of green leaves
Oh do let us for they are most beautiful
Father says we might have a studio Gerald says we could easily have a
beautiful one over the stables it would only need windows to be put in the
slant of the roof which is a simple matter Then you could stay here all day
and work and we could live in the studio like two real artists like the man
in the picture in the hall with the fryingpan and the walls all covered with
drawings I long to be free to live the free life of an artist Even Gerald
told father that only an artist is free because he lives in a creative world of
his own «
Gudrun caught the drift of the family intentions in this letter Gerald
wanted her to be attached to the household at Shortlands he was using Winifred
as his stalkinghorse The father thought only of his child he saw a rock of
salvation in Gudrun And Gudrun admired him for his perspicacity The child
moreover was really exceptional Gudrun was quite content She was quite
willing given a studio to spend her days at Shortlands She disliked the
Grammar School already thoroughly she wanted to be free If a studio were
provided she would be free to go on with her work she would await the turn of
events with complete serenity And she was really interested in Winifred she
would be quite glad to understand the girl
So there was quite a little festivity on Winifreds account the day Gudrun
returned to Shortlands
»You should make a bunch of flowers to give to Miss Brangwen when she
arrives« Gerald said smiling to his sister
»Oh no« cried Winifred »its silly«
»Not at all It is a very charming and ordinary attention«
»Oh it is silly« protested Winifred with all the extreme mauvaise honte
of her years Nevertheless the idea appealed to her She wanted very much to
carry it out She flitted round the greenhouses and the conservatory looking
wistfully at the flowers on their stems And the more she looked the more she
longed to have a bunch of the blossoms she saw the more fascinated she became
with her little vision of ceremony and the more consumedly shy and
selfconscious she grew till she was almost beside herself She could not get
the idea out of her mind It was as if some haunting challenge prompted her and
she had not enough courage to take it up So again she drifted into the
greenhouses looking at the lovely roses in their pots and at the virginal
cyclamens and at the mystic white clusters of a creeper The beauty oh the
beauty of them and oh the paradisal bliss if she should have a perfect
bouquet and could give it to Gudrun the next day Her passion and her complete
indecision almost made her ill
At last she slid to her fathers side
»Daddie « she said
»What my precious«
But she hung back the tears almost coming to her eyes in her sensitive
confusion Her father looked at her and his heart ran hot with tenderness an
anguish of poignant love
»What do you want to say to me my love«
»Daddie « her eyes smiled laconically »isnt it silly if I give Miss
Brangwen some flowers when she comes«
The sick man looked at the bright knowing eyes of his child and his heart
burned with love
»No darling thats not silly Its what they do to queens«
This was not very reassuring to Winifred She half suspected that queens in
themselves were a silliness Yet she so wanted her little romantic occasion
»Shall I then« she asked
»Give Miss Brangwen some flowers Do Birdie Tell Wilson I say you are to
have what you want«
The child smiled a small subtle unconscious smile to herself in
anticipation of her way
»But I wont get them till tomorrow« she said
»Not till tomorrow Birdie Give me a kiss then «
Winifred silently kissed the sick man and drifted out of the room She
again went the round of the greenhouses and the conservatory informing the
gardener in her high peremptory simple fashion of what she wanted telling
him all the blooms she had selected
»What do you want these for« Wilson asked
»I want them« she said She wished servants did not ask questions
»Ay youve said as much But what do you want them for for decoration or
to send away or what«
»I want them for a presentation bouquet«
»A presentation bouquet Whos coming then the Duchess of Portland«
»No«
»Oh not her Well youll have a rare poppyshow if you put all the things
youve mentioned into your bouquet«
»Yes I want a rare poppyshow«
»You do Then theres no more to be said«
The next day Winifred in a dress of silvery velvet and holding a gaudy
bunch of flowers in her hand waited with keen impatience in the schoolroom
looking down the drive for Gudruns arrival It was a wet morning Under her
nose was the strange fragrance of hothouse flowers the bunch was like a little
fire to her she seemed to have a strange new fire in her heart This slight
sense of romance stirred her like an intoxicant
At last she saw Gudrun coming and she ran downstairs to warn her father and
Gerald They laughing at her anxiety and gravity came with her into the hall
The manservant came hastening to the door and there he was relieving Gudrun
of her umbrella and then of her raincoat The welcoming party hung back till
their visitor entered the hall
Gudrun was flushed with the rain her hair was blown in loose little curls
she was like a flower just opened in the rain the heart of the blossom just
newly visible seeming to emit a warmth of retained sunshine Gerald winced in
spirit seeing her so beautiful and unknown She was wearing a soft blue dress
and her stockings were of dark red
Winifred advanced with odd stately formality
»We are so glad youve come back« she said »These are your flowers« She
presented the bouquet
»Mine« cried Gudrun She was suspended for a moment then a vivid flush
went over her she was as if blinded for a moment with a flame of pleasure Then
her eyes strange and flaming lifted and looked at the father and at Gerald
And again Gerald shrank in spirit as if it would be more than he could bear as
her hot exposed eyes rested on him There was something so revealed she was
revealed beyond bearing to his eyes He turned his face aside And he felt he
would not be able to avert her And he writhed under the imprisonment
Gudrun put her face into the flowers
»But how beautiful they are« she said in a muffled voice Then with a
strange suddenly revealed passion she stooped and kissed Winifred
Mr Crich went forward with his hand held out to her
»I was afraid you were going to run away from us« he said playfully
Gudrun looked up at him with a luminous roguish unknown face
»Really« she replied »No I didnt want to stay in London«
Her voice seemed to imply that she was glad to get back to Shortlands her
tone was warm and subtly caressing
»That is a good thing« smiled the father »You see you are very welcome
here among us«
Gudrun only looked into his face with darkblue warm shy eyes She was
unconsciously carried away by her own power
»And you look as if you came home in every possible triumph« Mr Crich
continued holding her hand
»No« she said glowing strangely »I havent had any triumph till I came
here«
»Ah come come Were not going to hear any of those tales Havent we read
notices in the newspaper Gerald«
»You came off pretty well« said Gerald to her shaking hands »Did you sell
anything«
»No« she said »not much«
»Just as well« he said
She wondered what he meant But she was all aglow with her reception
carried away by this little flattering ceremonial on her behalf
»Winifred« said the father »have you a pair of shoes for Miss Brangwen
You had better change at once «
Gudrun went out with her bouquet in her hand
»Quite a remarkable young woman« said the father to Gerald when she had
gone
»Yes« replied Gerald briefly as if he did not like the observation
Mr Crich liked Gudrun to sit with him for half an hour Usually he was ashy
and wretched with all the life gnawed out of him But as soon as he rallied he
liked to make believe that he was just as before quite well and in the midst of
life not of the outer world but in the midst of a strong essential life And
to this belief Gudrun contributed perfectly With her he could get by
stimulation those precious halfhours of strength and exaltation and pure
freedom when he seemed to live more than he had ever lived
She came to him as he lay propped up in the library His face was like
yellow wax his eyes darkened as it were sightless His black beard now
streaked with grey seemed to spring out of the waxy flesh of a corpse Yet the
atmosphere about him was energetic and playful Gudrun subscribed to this
perfectly To her fancy he was just an ordinary man Only his rather terrible
appearance was photographed upon her soul away beneath her consciousness She
knew that in spite of his playfulness his eyes could not change from their
darkened vacancy they were the eyes of a man who is dead
»Ah this is Miss Brangwen« he said suddenly rousing as she entered
announced by the manservant »Thomas put Miss Brangwen a chair here thats
right« He looked at her soft fresh face with pleasure It gave him the
illusion of life »Now you will have a glass of sherry and a little piece of
cake Thomas «
»No thank you« said Gudrun And as soon as she had said it her heart sank
horribly The sick man seemed to fall into a gap of death at her contradiction
She ought to play up to him not to contravene him In an instant she was
smiling her rather roguish smile
»I dont like sherry very much« she said »But I like almost anything
else«
The sick man caught at this straw instantly
»Not sherry No Something else What then What is there Thomas«
»Port wine curaçao «
»I would love some curaçao « said Gudrun looking at the sick man
confidingly
»You would Well then Thomas curaçao and a little cake or a biscuit«
»A biscuit« said Gudrun She did not want anything but she was wise
»Yes«
He waited till she was settled with her little glass and her biscuit Then
he was satisfied
»You have heard the plan« he said with some excitement »for a studio for
Winifred over the stables«
»No« exclaimed Gudrun in mock wonder
»Oh I thought Winnie wrote it to you in her letter«
»Oh yes of course But I thought perhaps it was only her own little idea
« Gudrun smiled subtly indulgently The sick man smiled also elated
»Oh no It is a real project There is a good room under the roof of the
stables with sloping rafters We had thought of converting it into a studio«
»How very nice that would be« cried Gudrun with excited warmth The
thought of the rafters stirred her
»You think it would Well it can be done«
»But how perfectly splendid for Winifred Of course it is just what is
needed if she is to work at all seriously One must have ones workshop
otherwise one never ceases to be an amateur«
»Is that so Yes Of course I should like you to share it with Winifred«
»Thank you so much«
Gudrun knew all these things already but she must look shy and very
grateful as if overcome
»Of course what I should like best would be if you could give up your work
at the Grammar School and just avail yourself of the studio and work there
well as much or as little as you liked «
He looked at Gudrun with dark vacant eyes She looked back at him as if
full of gratitude These phrases of a dying man were so complete and natural
coming like echoes through his dead mouth
»And as to your earnings you dont mind taking from me what you have taken
from the Education Committee do you I dont want you to be a loser«
»Oh« said Gudrun »if I can have the studio and work there I can earn
money enough really I can«
»Well« he said pleased to be the benefactor »we can see about all that
You wouldnt mind spending your days here«
»If there were a studio to work in« said Gudrun »I could ask for nothing
better«
»Is that so«
He was really very pleased But already he was getting tired She could see
the grey awful semiconsciousness of mere pain and dissolution coming over him
again the torture coming into the vacancy of his darkened eyes It was not over
yet this process of death She rose softly saying
»Perhaps you will sleep I must look for Winifred«
She went out telling the nurse that she had left him Day by day the tissue
of the sick man was further and further reduced nearer and nearer the process
came towards the last knot which held the human being in its unity But this
knot was hard and unrelaxed the will of the dying man never gave way He might
be dead in ninetenths yet the remaining tenth remained unchanged till it too
was torn apart With his will he held the unit of himself firm but the circle
of his power was ever and ever reduced it would be reduced to a point at last
then swept away
To adhere to life he must adhere to human relationships and he caught at
every straw Winifred the butler the nurse Gudrun these were the people who
meant all to him in these last resources Gerald in his fathers presence
stiffened with repulsion It was so to a less degree with all the other
children except Winifred They could not see anything but the death when they
looked at their father It was as if some subterranean dislike overcame them
They could not see the familiar face hear the familiar voice They were
overwhelmed by the antipathy of visible and audible death Gerald could not
breathe in his fathers presence He must get out at once And so in the same
way the father could not bear the presence of his son It sent a final
irritation through the soul of the dying man
The studio was made ready Gudrun and Winifred moved in They enjoyed so
much the ordering and the appointing of it And now they need hardly be in the
house at all They had their meals in the studio they lived there safely For
the house was becoming dreadful There were two nurses in white flitting
silently about like heralds of death The father was confined to his bed there
was a come and go of sottovoce sisters and brothers and children
Winifred was her fathers constant visitor Every morning after breakfast
she went into his room when he was washed and propped up in bed to spend half
an hour with him
»Are you better Daddie« she asked him invariably
And invariably he answered
»Yes I think Im a little better pet«
She held his hand in both her own lovingly and protectively And this was
very dear to him
She ran in again as a rule at lunchtime to tell him the course of events
and every evening when the curtains were drawn and his room was cosy she
spent a long time with him Gudrun was gone home Winifred was alone in the
house she liked best to be with her father They talked and prattled at random
he always as if he were well just the same as when he was going about So that
Winifred with a childs subtle instinct for avoiding the painful things
behaved as if nothing serious was the matter Instinctively she withheld her
attention and was happy Yet in her remoter soul she knew as well as the
adults knew perhaps better
Her father was quite well in his makebelief with her But when she went
away he relapsed under the misery of his dissolution But still there were
these bright moments though as his strength waned his faculty for attention
grew weaker and the nurse had to send Winifred away to save him from
exhaustion
He never admitted that he was going to die He knew it was so he knew it
was the end Yet even to himself he did not admit it He hated the fact
mortally His will was rigid He could not bear being overcome by death For him
there was no death And yet at times he felt a great need to cry out and to
wail and complain He would have liked to cry aloud to Gerald so that his son
should be horrified out of his composure Gerald was instinctively aware of
this and he recoiled to avoid any such thing This uncleanness of death
repelled him too much One should die quickly like the Romans one should be
master of ones fate in dying as in living He was convulsed in the clasp of
this death of his fathers as in the coils of the great serpent of Laocoön The
great serpent had got the father and the son was dragged into the embrace of
horrifying death along with him He resisted always And in some strange way he
was a tower of strength to his father
The last time the dying man asked to see Gudrun he was grey with near death
Yet he must see someone he must in the intervals of consciousness, catch into
connection with the living world lest he should have to accept his own
situation Fortunately he was most of his time dazed and half gone And he spent
many hours dimly thinking of the past as it were dimly reliving his old
experiences But there were times even to the end when he was capable of
realising what was happening to him in the present the death that was on him
And these were the times when he called in outside help no matter whose For to
realise this death that he was dying was a death beyond death never to be
borne It was an admission never to be made
Gudrun was shocked by his appearance and by the darkened almost
disintegrated eyes that still were unconquered and firm
»Well« he said in his weakened voice »and how are you and Winifred getting
on«
»Oh very well indeed« replied Gudrun
There were slight dead gaps in the conversation as if the ideas called up
were only elusive straws floating on the dark chaos of the sick mans dying
»The studio answers all right« he said
»Splendid It couldnt be more beautiful and perfect« said Gudrun
She waited for what he would say next
»And you think Winifred has the makings of a sculptor«
It was strange how hollow the words were meaningless
»Im sure she has She will do good things one day«
»Ah Then her life wont be altogether wasted you think«
Gudrun was rather surprised
»Sure it wont« she exclaimed softly
»Thats right«
Again Gudrun waited for what he would say
»You find life pleasant it is good to live isnt it« he asked with a
pitiful faint smile that was almost too much for Gudrun
»Yes« she smiled she would lie at random »I get a pretty good time I
believe«
»Thats right A happy nature is a great asset«
Again Gudrun smiled though her soul was dry with repulsion Did one have to
die like this having the life extracted forcibly from one whilst one smiled
and made conversation to the end Was there no other way Must one go through
all the horror of this victory over death the triumph of the integral will
that would not be broken till it disappeared utterly One must it was the only
way She admired the self-possession and the control of the dying man
exceedingly But she loathed the death itself She was glad the everyday world
held good and she need not recognise anything beyond
»You are quite all right here nothing we can do for you nothing you
find wrong in your position«
»Except that you are too good to me« said Gudrun
»Ah well the fault of that lies with yourself« he said and he felt a
little exultation that he had made this speech He was still so strong and
living But the nausea of death began to creep back on him in reaction
Gudrun went away back to Winifred Mademoiselle had left Gudrun stayed a
good deal at Shortlands and a tutor came in to carry on Winifreds education
But he did not live in the house he was connected with the Grammar School
One day Gudrun was to drive with Winifred and Gerald and Birkin to town in
the car It was a dark showery day Winifred and Gudrun were ready and waiting
at the door Winifred was very quiet but Gudrun had not noticed Suddenly the
child asked in a voice of unconcern
»Do you think my fathers going to die Miss Brangwen«
Gudrun started
»I dont know« she replied
»Dont you truly«
»Nobody knows for certain He may die of course«
The child pondered for a few moments then she asked
»But do you think he will die«
It was put almost like a question in geography or science insistent as if
she would force an admission from the adult The watchful slightly triumphant
child was almost diabolical
»Do I think he will die« repeated Gudrun »Yes I do«
But Winifreds large eyes were fixed on her and the girl did not move
»He is very ill« said Gudrun
A small smile came over Winifreds face subtle and sceptical
»I dont believe he will« the child asserted mockingly and she moved away
into the drive Gudrun watched the isolated figure and her heart stood still
Winifred was playing with a little rivulet of water absorbedly as if nothing
had been said
»Ive made a proper dam« she said out of the moist distance
Gerald came to the door from out of the hall behind
»It is just as well she doesnt choose to believe it« he said
Gudrun looked at him Their eyes met and they exchanged a sardonic
understanding
»Just as well« said Gudrun
He looked at her again and a fire flickered up in his eyes
»Best to dance while Rome burns since it must burn dont you think« he
said
She was rather taken aback But gathering herself together she replied
»Oh better dance than wail certainly«
»So I think«
And they both felt the subterranean desire to let go to fling away
everything and lapse into a sheer unrestraint brutal and licentious A strange
black passion surged up pure in Gudrun She felt strong She felt her hands so
strong as if she could tear the world asunder with them She remembered the
abandonments of Roman licence and her heart grew hot She knew she wanted this
herself also or something something equivalent Ah if that which was unknown
and suppressed in her were once let loose what an orgiastic and satisfying
event it would be And she wanted it she trembled slightly from the proximity
of the man who stood just behind her suggestive of the same black
licentiousness that rose in herself She wanted it with him this unacknowledged
frenzy For a moment the clear perception of this preoccupied her distinct and
perfect in its final reality Then she shut it off completely saying
»We might as well go down to the lodge after Winifred we can get in the
car there«
»So we can« he answered going with her
They found Winifred at the lodge admiring the litter of pure-bred white
puppies The girl looked up and there was a rather ugly unseeing cast in her
eyes as she turned to Gerald and Gudrun She did not want to see them
»Look« she cried »Three new puppies Marshall says this one seems perfect
Isnt it a sweetling But it isnt so nice as its mother« She turned to caress
the fine white bullterrier bitch that stood uneasily near her
»My dearest Lady Crich« she said »you are beautiful as an angel on earth
Angel angel dont you think shes good enough and beautiful enough to go to
heaven Gudrun They will be in heaven wont they and especially my darling
Lady Crich Mrs Marshall I say«
»Yes Miss Winifred« said the woman appearing at the door
»Oh do call this one Lady Winifred if she turns out perfect will you Do
tell Marshall to call it Lady Winifred«
»Ill tell him but Im afraid thats a gentleman puppy Miss Winifred«
»Oh no« There was the sound of a car »Theres Rupert« cried the child
and she ran to the gate
Birkin driving his car pulled up outside the lodge gate
»Were ready« cried Winifred »I want to sit in front with you Rupert May
I«
»Im afraid youll fidget about and fall out« he said
»No I wont I do want to sit in front next to you It makes my feet so
lovely and warm from the engines«
Birkin helped her up amused at sending Gerald to sit by Gudrun in the body
of the car
»Have you any news Rupert« Gerald called as they rushed along the lanes
»News« exclaimed Birkin
»Yes« Gerald looked at Gudrun who sat by his side and he said his eyes
narrowly laughing »I want to know whether I ought to congratulate him but I
cant get anything definite out of him«
Gudrun flushed deeply
»Congratulate him on what« she asked
»There was some mention of an engagement at least he said something to me
about it«
Gudrun flushed darkly
»You mean with Ursula« she said in challenge
»Yes That is so isnt it«
»I dont think theres any engagement« said Gudrun coldly
»That so Still no developments Rupert« he called
»Where Matrimonial No«
»Hows that« called Gudrun
Birkin glanced quickly round There was irritation in his eyes also
»Why« he replied »What do you think of it Gudrun«
»Oh« she cried determined to fling her stone also into the pool since
they had begun »I dont think she wants an engagement Naturally shes a bird
that prefers the bush« Gudruns voice was clear and gonglike It reminded
Rupert of her fathers so strong and vibrant
»And I« said Birkin his face playful but yet determined »I want a binding
contract and am not keen on love particularly free love«
They were both amused Why this public avowal Gerald seemed suspended a
moment in amusement
»Love isnt good enough for you« he called
»No« shouted Birkin
»Ha well thats being overrefined« said Gerald and the car ran through
the mud
»Whats the matter really« said Gerald turning to Gudrun
This was an assumption of a sort of intimacy that irritated Gudrun almost
like an affront It seemed to her that Gerald was deliberately insulting her
and infringing on the decent privacy of them all
»What is it« she said in her high repellent voice »Dont ask me I
know nothing about ultimate marriage I assure you or even penultimate«
»Only the ordinary unwarrantable brand« replied Gerald »Just so same
here I am no expert on marriage and degrees of ultimateness It seems to be a
bee that buzzes loudly in Ruperts bonnet«
»Exactly But that is his trouble exactly Instead of wanting a woman for
herself he wants his ideas fulfilled Which when it comes to actual practice
is not good enough«
»Oh no Best go slap for whats womanly in woman like a bull at a gate«
Then he seemed to glimmer in himself »You think love is the ticket do you« he
asked
»Certainly while it lasts you only cant insist on permanency« came
Gudruns voice strident above the noise
»Marriage or no marriage ultimate or penultimate or just soso take the
love as you find it«
»As you please or as you dont please« she echoed »Marriage is a social
arrangement I take it and has nothing to do with the question of love«
His eyes were flickering on her all the time She felt as if he were kissing
her freely and malevolently It made the colour burn in her cheeks but her
heart was quite firm and unfailing
»You think Rupert is off his head a bit« Gerald asked
Her eyes flashed with acknowledgment
»As regards a woman yes« she said »I do There is such a thing as two
people being in love for the whole of their lives perhaps But marriage is
neither here nor there even then If they are in love well and good If not
why break eggs about it«
»Yes« said Gerald »Thats how it strikes me But what about Rupert«
»I cant make out neither can he nor anybody He seems to think that if
you marry you can get through marriage into a third heaven or something all
very vague«
»Very And who wants a third heaven As a matter of fact, Rupert has a great
yearning to be safe to tie himself to the mast«
»Yes It seems to me hes mistaken there too« said Gudrun »Im sure a
mistress is more likely to be faithful than a wife just becauses she is her
own mistress No he says he believes that a man and wife can go further than
any other two beings but where is not explained They can know each other
heavenly and hellish but particularly hellish so perfectly that they go beyond
heaven and hell into there it all breaks down into nowhere«
»Into Paradise he says« laughed Gerald
Gudrun shrugged her shoulders »Je men fiche of your Paradise« she said
»Not being a Mohammedan« said Gerald Birkin sat motionless driving the
car quite unconscious of what they said And Gudrun sitting immediately behind
him felt a sort of ironic pleasure in thus exposing him
»He says« she added with a grimace of irony »that you can find an eternal
equilibrium in marriage if you accept the unison and still leave yourself
separate dont try to fuse«
»Doesnt inspire me« said Gerald
»Thats just it« said Gudrun
»I believe in love in a real abandon if youre capable of it« said
Gerald
»So do I« said she
»And so does Rupert too though he is always shouting«
»No« said Gudrun »He wont abandon himself to the other person You cant
be sure of him Thats the trouble I think«
»Yet he wants marriage Marriage et puis«
»Le paradis« mocked Gudrun
Birkin as he drove felt a creeping of the spine as if somebody were
threatening his neck But he shrugged with indifference It began to rain Here
was a change He stopped the car and got down to put up the hood
Chapter XXII
Woman to Woman
They came to the town and left Gerald at the railway station Gudrun and
Winifred were to come to tea with Birkin who expected Ursula also In the
afternoon however the first person to turn up was Hermione Birkin was out so
she went in the drawingroom looking at his books and papers and playing on
the piano Then Ursula arrived She was surprised unpleasantly so to see
Hermione of whom she had heard nothing for some time
»It is a surprise to see you« she said
»Yes« said Hermione »Ive been away at Aix «
»Oh for your health«
»Yes«
The two women looked at each other Ursula resented Hermiones long grave
downwardlooking face There was something of the stupidity and the
unenlightened selfesteem of a horse in it »Shes got a horseface« Ursula
said to herself »she runs between blinkers« It did seem as if Hermione like
the moon had only one side to her penny There was no obverse She stared out
all the time on the narrow but to her complete world of the extant
consciousness. In the darkness she did not exist. Like the moon one half of
her was lost to life Her self was all in her head she did not know what it was
spontaneously to run or move like a fish in the water or a weasel on the
grass She must always know
But Ursula only suffered from Hermiones onesidedness She only felt
Hermiones cool evidence which seemed to put her down as nothing Hermione who
brooded and brooded till she was exhausted with the ache of her effort at
consciousness spent and ashen in her body who gained so slowly and with such
effort her final and barren conclusions of knowledge, was apt in the presence
of other women whom she thought simply female to wear the conclusions of her
bitter assurance like jewels which conferred on her an unquestionable
distinction established her in a higher order of life She was apt mentally
to condescend to women such as Ursula whom she regarded as purely emotional
Poor Hermione it was her one possession this aching certainty of hers it was
her only justification She must be confident here for God knows she felt
rejected and deficient enough elsewhere In the life of thought of the spirit
she was one of the elect And she wanted to be universal But there was a
devastating cynicism at the bottom of her She did not believe in her own
universals they were sham She did not believe in the inner life it was a
trick not a reality She did not believe in the spiritual world it was an
affectation In the last resort she believed in Mammon the flesh and the
devil these at least were not sham She was a priestess without belief
without conviction suckled in a creed outworn and condemned to the reiteration
of mysteries that were not divine to her Yet there was no escape She was a
leaf upon a dying tree What help was there then but to fight still for the
old withered truths to die for the old outworn belief to be a sacred and
inviolate priestess of desecrated mysteries The old great truths had been true
And she was a leaf of the old great tree of knowledge that was withering now To
the old and last truth then she must be faithful even though cynicism and
mockery took place at the bottom of her soul
»I am so glad to see you« she said to Ursula in her slow voice that was
like an incantation »You and Rupert have become quite friends«
»Oh yes« said Ursula »He is always somewhere in the background«
Hermione paused before she answered She saw perfectly well the other
womans vaunt it seemed truly vulgar
»Is he« she said slowly and with perfect equanimity »And do you think you
will marry«
The question was so calm and mild so simple and bare and dispassionate that
Ursula was somewhat taken aback rather attracted It pleased her almost like a
wickedness There was some delightful naked irony in Hermione
»Well« replied Ursula »He wants to awfully but Im not so sure«
Hermione watched her with slow calm eyes She noted this new expression of
vaunting How she envied Ursula a certain unconscious positivity even her
vulgarity
»Why arent you sure« she asked in her easy singsong She was perfectly
at her ease perhaps even rather happy in this conversation »You dont really
love him«
Ursula flushed a little at the mild impertinence of this question And yet
she could not definitely take offence Hermione seemed so calmly and sanely
candid After all it was rather great to be able to be so sane
»He says it isnt love he wants« she replied
»What is it then« Hermione was slow and level
»He wants me really to accept him in marriage«
Hermione was silent for some time watching Ursula with slow pensive eyes
»Does he« she said at length without expression Then rousing »And what
is it you dont want You dont want marriage«
»No I dont not really I dont want to give the sort of submission he
insists on He wants me to give myself up and I simply dont feel that I can
do it«
Again there was a long pause before Hermione replied
»Not if you dont want to« Then again there was silence Hermione shuddered
with a strange desire Ah if only he had asked her to subserve him to be his
slave She shuddered with desire
»You see I cant «
»But exactly in what does «
They had both begun at once they both stopped Then Hermione assuming
priority of speech resumed as if wearily
»To what does he want you to submit«
»He says he wants me to accept him nonemotionally and finally I really
dont know what he means He says he wants the demon part of himself to be mated
physically not the human being You see he says one thing one day and
another the next and he always contradicts himself «
»And always thinks about himself and his own dissatisfaction« said
Hermione slowly
»Yes« cried Ursula »As if there were no one but himself concerned That
makes it so impossible«
But immediately she began to retract
»He insists on my accepting God knows what in him« she resumed »He wants
me to accept him as as an absolute But it seems to me he doesnt want to
give anything He doesnt want real warm intimacy he wont have it he
rejects it He wont let me think really and he wont let me feel he hates
feelings«
There was a long pause bitter for Hermione Ah if only he would have made
this demand of her Her he drove into thought drove inexorably into knowledge
and then execrated her for it
»He wants me to sink myself« Ursula resumed »not to have any being of my
own «
»Then why doesnt he marry an odalisk« said Hermione in her mild singsong
»if it is that he wants« Her long face looked sardonic and amused
»Yes« said Ursula vaguely After all the tiresome thing was he did not
want an odalisk he did not want a slave Hermione would have been his slave
there was in her a horrible desire to prostrate herself before a man a man who
worshipped her however and admitted her as the supreme thing He did not want
an odalisk He wanted a woman to take something from him to give herself up so
much that she could take the last realities of him the last facts the last
physical facts physical and unbearable
And if she did would he acknowledge her Would he be able to acknowledge
her through everything or would he use her just as his instrument use her for
his own private satisfaction not admitting her That was what the other men had
done They had wanted their own show and they would not admit her they turned
all she was into nothingness Just as Hermione now betrayed herself as a woman
Hermione was like a man she believed only in mens things She betrayed the
woman in herself And Birkin would he acknowledge or would he deny her
»Yes« said Hermione as each woman came out of her own separate reverie
»It would be a mistake I think it would be a mistake «
»To marry him« asked Ursula
»Yes« said Hermione slowly »I think you need a man soldierly
strongwilled « Hermione held out her hand and clenched it with rhapsodic
intensity »You should have a man like the old heroes you need to stand behind
him as he goes into battle you need to see his strength and to hear his shout
You need a man physically strong and virile in his will not a sensitive man
« There was a break as if the pythoness had uttered the oracle and now the
woman went on in a rhapsodywearied voice »And you see Rupert isnt this he
isnt He is frail in health and body he needs great great care Then he is so
changeable and unsure of himself it requires the greatest patience and
understanding to help him And I dont think you are patient You would have to
be prepared to suffer dreadfully I cant tell you how much suffering it would
take to make him happy He lives an intensely spiritual life at times too
too wonderful And then come the reactions I cant speak of what I have been
through with him We have been together so long I really do know him I do know
what he is And I feel I must say it I feel it would be perfectly disastrous
for you to marry him for you even more than for him« Hermione lapsed into
bitter reverie »He is so uncertain so unstable he wearies and then reacts
I couldnt tell you what his reactions are I couldnt tell you the agony of
them That which he affirms and loves one day a little later he turns on it in
a fury of destruction He is never constant always this awful dreadful
reaction Always the quick change from good to bad bad to good And nothing is
so devastating nothing «
»Yes« said Ursula humbly »you must have suffered«
An unearthly light came on Hermiones face She clenched her hand like one
inspired
»And one must be willing to suffer willing to suffer for him hourly daily
if you are going to help him if he is to keep true to anything at all «
»And I dont want to suffer hourly and daily« said Ursula »I dont I
should be ashamed I think it is degrading not to be happy«
Hermione stopped and looked at her a long time
»Do you« she said at last And this utterance seemed to her a mark of
Ursulas far distance from herself For to Hermione suffering was the greatest
reality come what might Yet she too had a creed of happiness
»Yes« she said »One should be happy « But it was a matter of will
»Yes« said Hermione listlessly now »I can only feel that it would be
disastrous disastrous at least to marry in a hurry Cant you be together
without marriage Cant you go away and live somewhere without marriage I do
feel that marriage would be fatal for both of you I think for you even more
than for him and I think of his health «
»Of course« said Ursula »I dont care about marriage it isnt really
important to me its he who wants it«
»It is his idea for the moment« said Hermione with that weary finality and
a sort of si jeunesse savait infallibility
There was a pause Then Ursula broke into faltering challenge
»You think Im merely a physical woman dont you«
»No indeed« said Hermione »No indeed But I think you are vital and
young it isnt a question of years or even of experience it is almost a
question of race Rupert is raceold he comes of an old race and you seem to
me so young you come of a young inexperienced race«
»Do I« said Ursula »But I think he is awfully young on one side«
»Yes perhaps childish in many respects Nevertheless «
They both lapsed into silence Ursula was filled with deep resentment and a
touch of hopelessness »It isnt true« she said to herself silently addressing
her adversary »It isnt true And it is you who want a physically strong
bullying man not I It is you who want an unsensitive man not I You dont
know anything about Rupert not really in spite of the years you have had with
him You dont give him a womans love you give him an ideal love and that is
why he reacts away from you You dont know You only know the dead things Any
kitchenmaid would know something about him you dont know What do you think
your knowledge is but dead understanding that doesnt mean a thing You are so
false and untrue how could you know anything What is the good of your talking
about love you untrue spectre of a woman How can you know anything when you
dont believe You dont believe in yourself and your own womanhood so what
good is your conceited shallow cleverness «
The two women sat on in antagonistic silence Hermione felt injured that
all her good intention all her offering only left the other woman in vulgar
antagonism But then Ursula could not understand never would understand could
never be more than the usual jealous and unreasonable female with a good deal
of powerful female emotion female attraction and a fair amount of female
understanding but no mind Hermione had decided long ago that where there was
no mind it was useless to appeal for reason one had merely to ignore the
ignorant And Rupert he had now reacted towards the strongly female healthy
selfish woman it was his reaction for the time being there was no helping it
all It was all a foolish backward and forward a violent oscillation that would
at length be too violent for his coherency and he would smash and be dead
There was no saving him This violent and directionless reaction between
animalism and spiritual truth would go on in him till he tore himself in two
between the opposite directions and disappeared meaninglessly out of life It
was no good he too was without unity without mind in the ultimate stages of
living not quite man enough to make a destiny for a woman
They sat on till Birkin came in and found them together He felt at once the
antagonism in the atmosphere something radical and insuperable and he bit his
lip But he affected a bluff manner
»Hello Hermione are you back again How do you feel«
»Oh better And how are you you dont look well «
»Oh I believe Gudrun and Winnie Crich are coming in to tea At least they
said they were We shall be a teaparty What train did you come by Ursula«
It was rather annoying to see him trying to placate both women at once Both
women watched him Hermione with deep resentment and pity for him Ursula very
impatient He was nervous and apparently in quite good spirits chattering the
conventional commonplaces Ursula was amazed and indignant at the way he made
smalltalk he was adept as any fat in Christendom She became quite stiff she
would not answer It all seemed to her so false and so belittling And still
Gudrun did not appear
»I think I shall go to Florence for the winter« said Hermione at length
»Will you« he answered »But it is so cold there«
»Yes but I shall stay with Palestra It is quite comfortable«
»What takes you to Florence«
»I dont know« said Hermione slowly Then she looked at him with her slow
heavy gaze »Barnes is starting his school of æsthetics and Olandese is going
to give a set of discourses on the Italian national policy «
»Both rubbish« he said
»No I dont think so« said Hermione
»Which do you admire then«
»I admire both Barnes is a pioneer And then I am interested in Italy in
her coming to national consciousness«
»I wish shed come to something different from national consciousness
then« said Birkin »especially as it only means a sort of commercialindustrial
consciousness I hate Italy and her national rant And I think Barnes is an
amateur«
Hermione was silent for some moments in a state of hostility But yet she
had got Birkin back again into her world How subtle her influence was she
seemed to start his irritable attention into her direction exclusively in one
minute He was her creature
»No« she said »you are wrong« Then a sort of tension came over her she
raised her face like the pythoness inspired with oracles and went on in
rhapsodic manner »Il Sandro mi scrive che ha accolto il piu grande entusiasmo
tutti i giovani e fanciulle e ragazzi sono tutti « She went on in Italian as
if in thinking of the Italians she thought in their language
He listened with a shade of distaste to her rhapsody then he said
»For all that I dont like it Their nationalism is just industrialism
that and a shallow jealousy I detest so much«
»I think you are wrong I think you are wrong « said Hermione »It seems
to me purely spontaneous and beautiful the modern Italians passion for it is
a passion for Italy LItalia «
»Do you know Italy well« Ursula asked of Hermione Hermione hated to be
broken in upon in this manner Yet she answered mildly
»Yes pretty well I spent several years of my girlhood there with my
mother My mother died in Florence«
»Oh«
There was a pause painful to Ursula and to Birkin Hermione however
seemed abstracted and calm Birkin was white his eyes glowed as if he were in a
fever he was far too overwrought How Ursula suffered in this tense atmosphere
of strained wills Her head seemed bound round by iron bands
Birkin rang the bell for tea They could not wait for Gudrun any longer
When the door was opened the cat walked in
»Micio Micio« called Hermione in her slow deliberate singsong The young
cat turned to look at her then with his slow and stately walk he advanced to
her side
»Vieni vieni quá« Hermione was saying in her strange caressive
protective voice as if she were always the elder the mother superior »Vieni
dire Buon Giorno alla zia Mi ricordi mi ricordi bene non è vero piccolo E
vero che mi ricordi E vero« And slowly she rubbed his head slowly and with
ironic indifference
»Does he understand Italian« said Ursula who knew nothing of the language
»Yes« said Hermione at length »His mother was Italian She was born in my
wastepaper basket in Florence on the morning of Ruperts birthday She was his
birthday present«
Tea was brought in Birkin poured out for them It was strange how
inviolable was the intimacy which existed between him and Hermione Ursula felt
that she was an outsider The very teacups and the old silver was a bond
between Hermione and Birkin It seemed to belong to an old past world which
they had inhabited together and in which Ursula was a foreigner She was almost
a parvenue in their old cultured milieu Her convention was not their
convention their standards were not her standards But theirs were established
they had the sanction and the grace of age He and she together Hermione and
Birkin were people of the same old tradition the same withered deadening
culture And she Ursula was an intruder So they always made her feel
Hermione poured a little cream into a saucer The simple way she assumed her
rights in Birkins room maddened and discouraged Ursula There was a fatality
about it as if it were bound to be Hermione lifted the cat and put the cream
before him He planted his two paws on the edge of the table and bent his
gracious young head to drink
»Sicuro che capisce italiano« sang Hermione »non lavrà dimenticato la
lingua della Mamma«
She lifted the cats head with her long slow white fingers not letting
him drink holding him in her power It was always the same this joy in power
she manifested peculiarly in power over any male being He blinked
forbearingly with a male bored expression licking his whiskers Hermione
laughed in her short grunting fashion
»Ecco il bravo ragazzo com è superbo questo«
She made a vivid picture so calm and strange with the cat She had a true
static impressiveness she was a social artist in some ways
The cat refused to look at her indifferently avoided her fingers and began
to drink again his nose down to the cream perfectly balanced as he lapped
with his odd little click
»Its bad for him teaching him to eat at table« said Birkin
»Yes« said Hermione easily assenting
Then looking down at the cat she resumed her old mocking humorous
singsong
»Ti imparano fare brutte cose brutte cose «
She lifted the Minos white chin on her forefinger slowly The young cat
looked round with a supremely forbearing air avoided seeing anything withdrew
his chin and began to wash his face with his paw Hermione grunted her
laughter pleased
»Bel giovanetto « she said
The cat reached forward again and put his fine white paw on the edge of the
saucer Hermione lifted it down with delicate slowness This deliberate
delicate carefulness of movement reminded Ursula of Gudrun
»No Non è permesso di mettere il zampino nel tondinetto Non piace al
babbo Un signor gatto cosi selvatico «
And she kept her finger on the softly planted paw of the cat and her voice
had the same whimsical humorous note of bullying
Ursula had her nose out of joint She wanted to go away now It all seemed
no good Hermione was established for ever she herself was ephemeral and had
not yet even arrived
»I will go now« she said suddenly
Birkin looked at her almost in fear he so dreaded her anger »But there is
no need for such hurry« he said
»Yes« she answered »I will go« And turning to Hermione before there was
time to say any more she held out her hand and said »Goodbye«
»Goodbye « sang Hermione detaining the hand »Must you really go now«
»Yes I think Ill go« said Ursula her face set and averted from
Hermiones eyes
»You think you will «
But Ursula had got her hand free She turned to Birkin with a quick almost
jeering Goodbye and she was opening the door before he had time to do it for
her
When she got outside the house she ran down the road in fury and agitation
It was strange the unreasoning rage and violence Hermione roused in her by her
very presence Ursula knew she gave herself away to the other woman she knew
she looked illbred uncouth exaggerated But she did not care She only ran up
the road lest she should go back and jeer in the faces of the two she had left
behind For they outraged her
Chapter XXIII
Excurse
Next day Birkin sought Ursula out It happened to be the halfday at the Grammar
School He appeared towards the end of the morning and asked her would she
drive with him in the afternoon She consented But her face was closed and
unresponding and his heart sank
The afternoon was fine and dim He was driving the motorcar and she sat
beside him But still her face was closed against him unresponding When she
became like this like a wall against him his heart contracted
His life now seemed so reduced that he hardly cared any more At moments it
seemed to him he did not care a straw whether Ursula or Hermione or anybody else
existed or did not exist. Why bother Why strive for a coherent satisfied life
Why not drift on in a series of accidents like a picaresque novel Why not
Why bother about human relationships Why take them seriously male or female
Why form any serious connections at all Why not be casual drifting along
taking all for what it was worth
And yet still he was damned and doomed to the old effort at serious
living
»Look« he said »what I bought« The car was running along a broad white
road between autumn trees
He gave her a little bit of screwedup paper She took it and opened it
»How lovely« she cried
She examined the gift
»How perfectly lovely« she cried again »But why do you give them me« She
put the question offensively
His face flickered with bored irritation He shrugged his shoulders
slightly
»I wanted to« he said coolly
»But why Why should you«
»Am I called on to find reasons« he asked
There was a silence whilst she examined the rings that had been screwed up
in the paper
»I think they are beautiful« she said »especially this This is wonderful
«
It was a round opal red and fiery set in a circle of tiny rubies
»You like that best« he said
»I think I do«
»I like the sapphire« he said
»This«
It was a roseshaped beautiful sapphire with small brilliants
»Yes« she said »it is lovely« She held it in the light »Yes perhaps it
is the best «
»The blue « he said
»Yes wonderful «
He suddenly swung the car out of the way of a farmcart It tilted on the
bank He was a careless driver yet very quick But Ursula was frightened There
was always that something regardless in him which terrified her She suddenly
felt he might kill her by making some dreadful accident with the motorcar For
a moment she was stony with fear
»Isnt it rather dangerous the way you drive« she asked him
»No it isnt dangerous« he said And then after a pause »Dont you like
the yellow ring at all«
It was a squarish topaz set in a frame of steel or some other similar
mineral finely wrought
»Yes« she said »I do like it But why did you buy these rings«
»I wanted them They are secondhand«
»You bought them for yourself«
»No Rings look wrong on my hands«
»Why did you buy them then«
»I bought them to give to you«
»But why Surely you ought to give them to Hermione You belong to her«
He did not answer She remained with the jewels shut in her hand She wanted
to try them on her fingers but something in her would not let her And
moreover she was afraid her hands were too large she shrank from the
mortification of a failure to put them on any but her little finger They
travelled in silence through the empty lanes
Driving in a motorcar excited her she forgot his presence even
»Where are we« she asked suddenly
»Not far from Worksop«
»And where are we going«
»Anywhere«
It was the answer she liked
She opened her hand to look at the rings They gave her such pleasure as
they lay the three circles with their knotted jewels entangled in her palm
She would have to try them on She did so secretly unwilling to let him see so
that he should not know her finger was too large for them But he saw
nevertheless He always saw if she wanted him not to It was another of his
hateful watchful characteristics
Only the opal with its thin wire loop would go on her ring finger And she
was superstitious No there was illportent enough she would not accept this
ring from him in pledge
»Look« she said putting forward her hand that was half closed and
shrinking »The others dont fit me«
He looked at the redglinting soft stone on her oversensitive skin
»Yes« he said
»But opals are unlucky arent they« she said wistfully
»No I prefer unlucky things Luck is vulgar Who wants what luck would
bring I dont«
»But why« she laughed
And consumed with a desire to see how the other rings would look on her
hand she put them on her little finger
»They can be made a little bigger« he said
»Yes« she replied doubtfully And she sighed She knew that in accepting
the rings she was accepting a pledge Yet fate seemed more than herself She
looked again at the jewels They were very beautiful to her eyes not as
ornament or wealth but as tiny fragments of loveliness
»Im glad you bought them« she said putting her hand half unwillingly
gently on his arm
He smiled slightly He wanted her to come to him But he was angry at the
bottom of his soul and indifferent He knew she had a passion for him really
But it was not finally interesting There were depths of passion when one became
impersonal and indifferent unemotional Whereas Ursula was still at the
emotional personal level always so abominably personal He had taken her as he
had never been taken himself He had taken her at the roots of her darkness and
shame like a demon laughing over the fountain of mystic corruption which was
one of the sources of her being laughing shrugging accepting accepting
finally As for her when would she so much go beyond herself as to accept him
at the quick of death
She now became quite happy The motorcar ran on the afternoon was soft and
dim She talked with lively interest analysing people and their motives
Gudrun Gerald He answered vaguely He was not very much interested any more in
personalities and in people people were all different but they were all
enclosed nowadays in a definite limitation he said there were only about two
great ideas two great streams of activity remaining with various forms of
reaction therefrom The reactions were all varied in various people but they
followed a few great laws and intrinsically there was no difference They acted
and reacted involuntarily according to a few great laws and once the laws, the
great principles were known people were no longer mystically interesting They
were all essentially alike the differences were only variations on a theme
None of them transcended the given terms
Ursula did not agree people were still an adventure to her but perhaps
not as much as she tried to persuade herself Perhaps there was something
mechanical now in her interest Perhaps also her interest was destructive her
analysing was a real tearing to pieces There was an underspace in her where
she did not care for people and their idiosyncrasies even to destroy them She
seemed to touch for a moment this undersilence in herself she became still
and she turned for a moment purely to Birkin
»Wont it be lovely to go home in the dark« she said »We might have tea
rather late shall we and have high tea Wouldnt that be rather nice«
»I promised to be at Shortlands for dinner« he said
»But it doesnt matter you can go tomorrow «
»Hermione is there« he said in rather an uneasy voice »She is going away
in two days I suppose I ought to say goodbye to her I shall never see her
again«
Ursula drew away closed in a violent silence He knitted his brows and his
eyes began to sparkle again in anger
»You dont mind do you« his asked irritably
»No I dont care Why should I Why should I mind« Her tone was jeering
and offensive
»Thats what I ask myself« he said »why should you mind But you seem to«
His brows were tense with violent irritation
»I assure you I dont I dont mind in the least Go where you belong its
what I want you to do«
»Ah you fool« he cried »with your go where you belong Its finished
between Hermione and me She means much more to you if it comes to that than
she does to me For you can only revolt in pure reaction from her and to be
her opposite is to be her counterpart«
»Ah opposite« cried Ursula »I know your dodges I am not taken in by your
wordtwisting You belong to Hermione and her dead show Well if you do you
do I dont blame you But then youve nothing to do with me«
In his inflamed overwrought exasperation he stopped the car and they sat
there in the middle of the country lane to have it out It was a crisis of war
between them so they did not see the ridiculousness of their situation
»If you werent a fool if only you werent a fool« he cried in bitter
despair »youd see that one could be decent even when one has been wrong I
was wrong to go on all those years with Hermione it was a deathly process But
after all one can have a little human decency But no you would tear my soul
out with your jealousy at the very mention of Hermiones name«
»I jealous I jealous You are mistaken if you think that Im not jealous
in the least of Hermione she is nothing to me not that« And Ursula snapped
her fingers »No its you who are a liar Its you who must return like a dog
to his vomit It is what Hermione stands for that I hate I hate it It is lies
it is false it is death But you want it you cant help it you cant help
yourself You belong to that old deathly way of living then go back to it
But dont come to me for Ive nothing to do with it«
And in the stress of her violent emotion she got down from the car and went
to the hedgerow picking unconsciously some fleshpink spindleberries some of
which were burst showing their orange seeds
»Ah you are a fool« he cried bitterly with some contempt
»Yes I am I am a fool And thank God for it Im too big a fool to swallow
your cleverness God be praised You go to your women go to them they are
your sort youve always had a string of them trailing after you and you
always will Go to your spiritual brides but dont come to me as well because
Im not having any thank you Youre not satisfied are you Your spiritual
brides cant give you what you want they arent common and fleshy enough for
you arent they So you come to me and keep them in the background You will
marry me for daily use But youll keep yourself well provided with spiritual
brides in the background I know your dirty little game« Suddenly a flame ran
over her and she stamped her foot madly on the road and he winced afraid that
she would strike him »And I Im not spiritual enough Im not as spiritual as
that Hermione « Her brows knitted her eyes blazed like a tigers »Then go to
her thats all I say go to her go Ha she spiritual spiritual she A
dirty materialist as she is She spiritual What does she care for what is her
spirituality What is it« Her fury seemed to blaze out and burn his face He
shrank a little »I tell you its dirt dirt and nothing but dirt And its
dirt you want you crave for it Spiritual Is that spiritual her bullying her
conceit her sordid materialism Shes a fishwife a fishwife she is such a
materialist And all so sordid What does she work out to in the end with all
her social passion as you call it Social passion what social passion has
she show it me where is it She wants petty immediate power she wants
the illusion that she is a great woman that is all In her soul shes a
devilish unbeliever common as dirt Thats what she is at the bottom And all
the rest is pretence but you love it You love the sham spirituality its
your food And why Because of the dirt underneath Do you think I dont know
the foulness of your sex life and hers I do And its that foulness you
want you liar Then have it have it Youre such a liar«
She turned away spasmodically tearing the twigs of spindleberry from the
hedge and fastening them with vibrating fingers in the bosom of her coat
He stood watching in silence A wonderful tenderness burned in him at the
sight of her quivering so sensitive fingers and at the same time he was full
of rage and callousness
»This is a degrading exhibition« he said coolly
»Yes degrading indeed« she said »But more to me than to you«
»Since you choose to degrade yourself« he said Again the flash came over
her face the yellow lights concentrated in her eyes
»You« she cried »You You truthlover You puritymonger It stinks your
truth and your purity It stinks of the offal you feed on you scavenger dog
you eater of corpses You are foul foul and you must know it Your purity
your candour your goodness yes thank you weve had some What you are is a
foul deathly thing obscene thats what you are obscene and perverse You
and love You may well say you dont want love No you want yourself and dirt
and death thats what you want You are so perverse so deatheating And then
«
»Theres a bicycle coming« he said writhing under her loud denunciation
She glanced down the road
»I dont care« she cried
Nevertheless she was silent The cyclist having heard the voices raised in
altercation glanced curiously at the man and the woman and at the standing
motorcar as he passed
» Afternoon« he said cheerfully
»Goodafternoon« replied Birkin coldly
They were silent as the man passed into the distance
A clearer look had come over Birkins face He knew she was in the main
right He knew he was perverse so spiritual on the one hand and in some
strange way degraded on the other But was she herself any better Was anybody
any better
»It may all be true lies and stink and all« he said »But Hermiones
spiritual intimacy is no rottener than your emotionaljealous intimacy One can
preserve the decencies even to ones enemies for ones own sake Hermione is
my enemy to her last breath Thats why I must bow her off the field«
»You You and your enemies and your bows A pretty picture you make of
yourself But it takes nobody in but yourself I jealous I What I say« her
voice sprang into flame »I say because it is true do you see because you are
you a foul and false liar a whited sepulchre Thats why I say it And you
hear it«
»And be grateful« he added with a satirical grimace
»Yes« she cried »and if you have a spark of decency in you be grateful«
»Not having a spark of decency however « he retorted
»No« she cried »you havent a spark And so you can go your way and Ill
go mine Its no good not the slightest So you can leave me now I dont want
to go any farther with you leave me «
»You dont even know where you are« he said
»Oh dont bother I assure you I shall be all right Ive got ten shillings
in my purse and that will take me back from anywhere you have brought me to«
She hesitated The rings were still on her fingers two on her little finger
one on her ring finger Still she hesitated
»Very good« he said »The only hopeless thing is a fool«
»You are quite right« she said
Still she hesitated Then an ugly malevolent look came over her face she
pulled the rings from her fingers and tossed them at him One touched his face
the others hit his coat and they scattered into the mud
»And take your rings« she said »and go and buy yourself a female elsewhere
there are plenty to be had who will be quite glad to share your spiritual
mess or to have your physical mess and leave your spiritual mess to
Hermione«
With which she walked away desultorily up the road He stood motionless
watching her sullen rather ugly walk She was sullenly picking and pulling at
the twigs of the hedge as she passed She grew smaller she seemed to pass out
of his sight A darkness came over his mind Only a small mechanical speck of
consciousness hovered near him
He felt tired and weak Yet also he was relieved He gave up his old
position He went and sat on the bank No doubt Ursula was right It was true
really what she said He knew that his spirituality was concomitant of a
process of depravity a sort of pleasure in selfdestruction There really was a
certain stimulant in selfdestruction for him especially when it was
translated spiritually But then he knew it he knew it and had done And was
not Ursulas way of emotional intimacy emotional and physical was it not just
as dangerous as Hermiones abstract spiritual intimacy Fusion fusion this
horrible fusion of two beings which every woman and most men insisted on was
it not nauseous and horrible anyhow whether it was a fusion of the spirit or of
the emotional body Hermione saw herself as the perfect Idea to which all men
must come and Ursula was the perfect Womb the bath of birth to which all men
must come And both were horrible Why could they not remain individuals
limited by their own limits Why this dreadful allcomprehensiveness this
hateful tyranny Why not leave the other being free why try to absorb or melt
or merge One might abandon oneself utterly to the moments but not to any other
being
He could not bear to see the rings lying in the pale mud of the road He
picked them up and wiped them unconsciously on his hands They were the little
tokens of the reality of beauty the reality of happiness in warm creation But
he had made his hands all dirty and gritty
There was a darkness over his mind The terrible knot of consciousness that
had persisted there like an obsession was broken gone his life was dissolved
in darkness over his limbs and his body But there was a point of anxiety in his
heart now He wanted her to come back He breathed lightly and regularly like an
infant that breathes innocently beyond the touch of responsibility
She was coming back He saw her drifting desultorily under the high hedge
advancing towards him slowly He did not move he did not look again He was as
if asleep at peace slumbering and utterly relaxed
She came up and stood before him hanging her head
»See what a flower I found you« she said wistfully holding a piece of
purplered bellheather under his face He saw the clump of coloured bells and
the treelike tiny branch also her hands with their overfine oversensitive
skin
»Pretty« he said looking up at her with a smile taking the flower
Everything had become simple again quite simple the complexity gone into
nowhere But he badly wanted to cry except that he was weary and bored by
emotion
Then a hot passion of tenderness for her filled his heart He stood up and
looked into her face It was new and oh so delicate in its luminous wonder and
fear He put his arms round her and she hid her face on his shoulder
It was peace just simple peace as he stood folding her quietly there on
the open lane It was peace at last The old detestable world of tension had
passed away at last his soul was strong and at ease
She looked up at him The wonderful yellow light in her eyes now was soft
and yielded they were at peace with each other He kissed her softly many
many times A laugh came into her eyes
»Did I abuse you« she asked
He smiled too and took her hand that was so soft and given
»Never mind« she said »it is all for the good« He kissed her again
softly many times
»Isnt it« she said
»Certainly« he replied »Wait I shall have my own back«
She laughed suddenly with a wild catch in her voice and flung her arms
around him
»You are mine my love arent you« she cried straining him close
»Yes« he said softly
His voice was so soft and final she went very still as if under a fate
which had taken her Yes she acquiesced but it was accomplished without her
acquiescence He was kissing her quietly repeatedly with a soft still
happiness that almost made her heart stop beating
»My love« she cried lifting her face and looking with frightened gentle
wonder of bliss Was it all real But his eyes were beautiful and soft and
immune from stress or excitement beautiful and smiling lightly to her smiling
with her She hid her face on his shoulder hiding before him because he could
see her so completely She knew he loved her and she was afraid she was in a
strange element a new heaven round about her She wished he were passionate
because in passion she was at home But this was so still and frail as space is
more frightening than force
Again quickly she lifted her head
»Do you love me« she said quickly impulsively
»Yes« he replied not heeding her motion only her stillness
She knew it was true She broke away
»So you ought« she said turning round to look at the road »Did you find
the rings«
»Yes«
»Where are they«
»In my pocket«
She put her hand into his pocket and took them out
She was restless
»Shall we go« she said
»Yes« he answered And they mounted to the car once more and left behind
them this memorable battlefield
They drifted through the wild late afternoon in a beautiful motion that was
smiling and transcendent His mind was sweetly at ease the life flowed through
him as from some new fountain he was as if born out of the cramp of a womb
»Are you happy« she asked him in her strange delighted way
»Yes« he said
»So am I« she cried in sudden ecstasy putting her arm round him and
clutching him violently against her as he steered the motorcar
»Dont drive much more« she said »I dont want you to be always doing
something«
»No« he said »Well finish this little trip and then well be free«
»We will my love we will« she cried in delight kissing him as he turned
to her
He drove on in a strange new wakefulness the tension of his consciousness
broken He seemed to be conscious all over all his body awake with a simple
glimmering awareness as if he had just come awake like a thing that is born
like a bird when it comes out of an egg into a new universe
They dropped down a long hill in the dusk and suddenly Ursula recognised on
her right hand below in the hollow the form of Southwell Minster
»Are we here« she cried with pleasure
The rigid sombre ugly cathedral was settling under the gloom of the coming
night as they entered the narrow town the golden lights showed like slabs of
revelation in the shopwindows
»Father came here with mother« she said »when they first knew each other
He loves it he loves the Minster Do you«
»Yes It looks like quartz crystals sticking up out of the dark hollow
Well have our high tea at the Saracens Head«
As they descended they heard the Minster bells playing a hymn when the
hour had struck six
»Glory to thee my God this night
For all the blessings of the light «
So to Ursulas ear the tune fell out drop by drop from the unseen sky on to
the dusky town It was like dim bygone centuries sounding It was all so far
off She stood in the old yard of the inn smelling of straw and stables and
petrol Above she could see the first stars What was it all This was no
actual world it was the dreamworld of ones childhood a great circumscribed
reminiscence The world had become unreal She herself was a strange
transcendent reality
They sat together in a little parlour by the fire
»Is it« she replied laughing but unassured
»What«
»Everything is everything true«
»The best is true« he said grimacing at her
»Is it« she replied laughing but unassured
She looked at him He seemed still so separate New eyes were opened in her
soul She saw a strange creature from another world in him It was as if she
were enchanted and everything were metamorphosed She recalled again the old
magic of the Book of Genesis where the sons of God saw the daughters of men
that they were fair And he was one of these one of these strange creatures
from the beyond looking down at her and seeing she was fair
He stood on the hearthrug looking at her at her face that was upturned
exactly like a flower a fresh luminous flower glinting faintly golden with
the dew of the first light And he was smiling faintly as if there were no
speech in the world save the silent delight of flowers in each other Smilingly
they delighted in each others presence pure presence not to be thought of
even known But his eyes had a faintly ironical contraction
And she was drawn to him strangely as in a spell Kneeling on the
hearthrug before him she put her arms round his loins and put her face
against his thighs Riches Riches She was overwhelmed with a sense of a
heavenful of riches
»We love each other« she said in delight
»More than that« he answered looking down at her with his glimmering easy
face
Unconsciously with her sensitive fingertips she was tracing the back of
his thighs following some mysterious lifeflow there She had discovered
something something more than wonderful more wonderful than life itself. It
was the strange mystery of his lifemotion there at the back of the thighs
down the flanks It was a strange reality of his being the very stuff of being
there in the straight downflow of the thighs It was here she discovered him one
of the sons of God such as were in the beginning of the world not a man
something other something more
This was release at last She had had lovers she had known passion But
this was neither love nor passion It was the daughters of men coming back to
the sons of God the strange inhuman sons of God who are in the beginning
Her face was now one dazzle of released golden light as she looked up at
him and laid her hands full on his thighs behind as he stood before her He
looked down at her with a rich bright brow like a diadem above his eyes She was
beautiful as a new marvellous flower opened at his knees a paradisal flower she
was beyond womanhood such a flower of luminousness Yet something was tight
and unfree in him He did not like this crouching this radiance not
altogether
It was all achieved for her She had found one of the sons of God from the
Beginning and he had found one of the first most luminous daughters of men
She traced with her hands the line of his loins and thighs at the back and
a living fire ran through her from him darkly It was a dark flood of electric
passion she released from him drew into herself She had established a rich new
circuit a new current of passional electric energy between the two of them
released from the darkest poles of the body and established in perfect circuit
It was a dark fire of electricity that rushed from him to her and flooded them
both with rich peace satisfaction
»My love« she cried lifting her face to him her eyes her mouth open in
transport
»My love« he answered bending and kissing her always kissing her
She closed her hands over the full rounded body of his loins as he stooped
over her she seemed to touch the quick of the mystery of darkness that was
bodily him She seemed to faint beneath and he seemed to faint stooping over
her It was a perfect passing away for both of them and at the same time the
most intolerable accession into being the marvellous fullness of immediate
gratification overwhelming outflooding from the source of the deepest
lifeforce the darkest deepest strangest lifesource of the human body at
the back and base of the loins
After a lapse of stillness after the rivers of strange dark fluid richness
had passed over her flooding carrying away her mind and flooding down her
spine and down her knees past her feet a strange flood sweeping away
everything and leaving her an essential new being she was left quite free she
was free in complete ease her complete self So she rose stilly and blithe
smiling at him He stood before her glimmering so awfully real that her heart
almost stopped beating He stood there in his strange whole body that had its
marvellous fountains like the bodies of the sons of God who were in the
beginning There were strange fountains of his body more mysterious and potent
than any she had imagined or known more satisfying ah finally
mysticallyphysically satisfying She had thought there was no source deeper
than the phallic source And now behold from the smitten rock of the mans
body from the strange marvellous flanks and thighs deeper further in mystery
than the phallic source came the floods of ineffable darkness and ineffable
riches
They were glad and they could forget perfectly They laughed and went to
the meal provided There was a venison pasty of all things a large broadfaced
cut ham eggs and cresses and red beetroot and medlars and appletart and tea
»What good things« she cried with pleasure »How noble it looks shall I
pour out the tea «
She was usually nervous and uncertain at performing these public duties
such as giving tea But today she forgot she was at her ease entirely
forgetting to have misgivings The teapot poured beautifully from a proud
slender spout Her eyes were warm with smiles as she gave him his tea She had
learned at last to be still and perfect
»Everything is ours« she said to him
»Everything« he answered
She gave a queer little crowing sound of triumph
»Im so glad« she cried with unspeakable relief
»So am I« he said »But Im thinking wed better get out of our
responsibilities as quick as we can«
»What responsibilities« she asked wondering
»We must drop our jobs like a shot«
A new understanding dawned into her face
»Of course« she said »theres that«
»We must get out« he said »Theres nothing for it but to get out quick«
She looked at him doubtfully across the table
»But where« she said
»I dont know« he said »Well just wander about for a bit«
Again she looked at him quizzically
»I should be perfectly happy at the Mill« she said
»Its very near the old thing« he said »Let us wander a bit«
His voice could be so soft and happygolucky it went through her veins
like an exhilaration Nevertheless she dreamed of a valley and wild gardens
and peace She had a desire too for splendour an aristocratic extravagant
splendour Wandering seemed to her like restlessness dissatisfaction
»Where will you wander to« she asked
»I dont know I feel as if I would just meet you and wed set off just
towards the distance«
»But where can one go« she asked anxiously »After all there is only the
world and none of it is very distant«
»Still« he said »I should like to go with you nowhere It would be
rather wandering just to nowhere Thats the place to get to nowhere One
wants to wander away from the worlds somewheres into our own nowhere«
Still she meditated
»You see my love« she said »Im so afraid that while we are only people
weve got to take the world thats given because there isnt any other«
»Yes there is« he said »Theres somewhere where we can be free
somewhere where one neednt wear much clothes none even where one meets a
few people who have gone through enough and can take things for granted where
you be yourself without bothering There is somewhere there are one or two
people «
»But where « she sighed
»Somewhere anywhere Lets wander off Thats the thing to do lets
wander off«
»Yes « she said thrilled at the thought of travel But to her it was only
travel
»To be free« he said »To be free in a free place with a few other
people«
»Yes« she said wistfully Those few other people depressed her
»It isnt really a locality though« he said »Its a perfected relation
between you and me and others the perfect relation so that we are free
together«
»It is my love isnt it« she said »Its you and me Its you and me
isnt it« She stretched out her arms to him He went across and stooped to kiss
her face Her arms closed round him again her hands spread upon his shoulders
moving slowly there moving slowly on his back down his back slowly with a
strange recurrent rhythmic motion yet moving slowly down pressing
mysteriously over his loins over his flanks The sense of the awfulness of
riches that could never be impaired flooded her mind like a swoon a death in
most marvellous possession mysticsure She possessed him so utterly and
intolerably that she herself lapsed out And yet she was only sitting still in
the chair with her hands pressed upon him and lost
Again he softly kissed her
»We shall never go apart again« he murmured quietly And she did not speak
but only pressed her hands firmer down upon the source of darkness in him
They decided when they woke again from the pure swoon to write their
resignations from the world of work there and then She wanted this
He rang the bell and ordered notepaper without a printed address The
waiter cleared the table
»Now then« he said »yours first Put your home address and the date
then Director of Education Town Hall Sir Now then I dont know how one
really stands I suppose one could get out of it in less than a month Anyhow
Sir I beg to resign my post as classmistress in the Willey Green Grammar
School I should be very grateful if you would liberate me as soon as possible
without waiting for the expiration of the months notice Thatll do Have you
got it Let me look Ursula Brangwen Good Now Ill write mine I ought to give
them three months but I can plead health I can arrange it all right«
He sat and wrote out his formal resignation
»Now« he said when the envelopes were sealed and addressed »shall we post
them here both together I know Jackie will say Heres a coincidence when he
receives them in all their identity Shall we let him say it or not«
»I dont care« she said
»No « he said pondering
»It doesnt matter does it« she said
»Yes« he replied »Their imaginations shall not work on us Ill post yours
here mine after I cannot be implicated in their imaginings«
He looked at her with his strange nonhuman singleness
»Yes you are right« she said
She lifted her face to him all shining and open It was as if he might
enter straight into the source of her radiance His face became a little
distracted
»Shall we go« he said
»As you like« she replied
They were soon out of the little town and running through the uneven lanes
of the country Ursula nestled near him into his constant warmth and watched
the palelit revelation racing ahead the visible night Sometimes it was a wide
old road with grassspaces on either side flying magic and elfin in the
greenish illumination sometimes it was trees looming overhead sometimes it was
bramble bushes sometimes the walls of a crewyard and the butt of a barn
»Are you going to Shortlands to dinner« Ursula asked him suddenly He
started
»Good God« he said »Shortlands Never again Not that Besides we should
be too late«
»Where are we going then to the Mill«
»If you like Pity to go anywhere on this good dark night Pity to come out
of it really Pity we cant stop in the good darkness It is better than
anything ever would be this good immediate darkness«
She sat wondering The car lurched and swayed She knew there was no leaving
him the darkness held them both and contained them it was not to be surpassed
Besides she had a full mystic knowledge of his suave loins of darkness
darkclad and suave and in this knowledge there was some of the inevitability
and the beauty of fate fate which one asks for which one accepts in full
He sat still like an Egyptian Pharaoh driving the car He felt as if he
were seated in immemorial potency like the great carven statues of real Egypt
as real and as fulfilled with subtle strength as these are with a vague
inscrutable smile on the lips He knew what it was to have the strange and
magical current of force in his back and loins and down his legs force so
perfect that it stayed him immobile and left his face subtly mindlessly
smiling He knew what it was to be awake and potent in that other basic mind
the deepest physical mind And from this source he had a pure and magic control
magical mystical a force in darkness like electricity
It was very difficult to speak it was so perfect to sit in this pure living
silence subtle full of unthinkable knowledge and unthinkable force upheld
immemorially in timeless force like the immobile supremely potent Egyptians
seated for ever in their living subtle silence
»We need not go home« he said »This car has seats that let down and make a
bed and we can lift the hood«
She was glad and frightened She cowered near to him
»But what about them at home« she said
»Send a telegram«
Nothing more was said They ran on in silence But with a sort of second
consciousness he steered the car towards a destination For he had the free
intelligence to direct his own ends His arms and his breast and his head were
rounded and living like those of the Greek he had not the unawakened straight
arms of the Egyptian nor the sealed slumbering head A lambent intelligence
played secondarily above his pure Egyptian concentration in darkness
They came to a village that lined along the road The car crept slowly
along until he saw the post office Then he pulled up
»I will send a telegram to your father« he said »I will merely say
Spending the night in town shall I«
»Yes« she answered She did not want to be disturbed into taking thought
She watched him move into the post office It was also a shop she saw
Strange he was Even as he went into the lighted public place he remained dark
and magic the living silence seemed the body of reality in him subtle potent
indiscoverable There he was In a strange uplift of elation she saw him the
being never to be revealed awful in its potency mystic and real This dark
subtle reality of him never to be translated liberated her into perfection
her own perfect being She too was dark and fulfilled in silence
He came out throwing some packages into the car
»There is some bread and cheese and raisins and apples and hard
chocolate« he said in his voice that was as if laughing because of the
unblemished stillness and force which was the reality in him She would have to
touch him To speak to see was nothing It was a travesty to look and to
comprehend the man there Darkness and silence must fall perfectly on her then
she could know mystically in unrevealed touch She must lightly mindlessly
connect with him have the knowledge which is death of knowledge, the reality of
surety in not knowing
Soon they had run on again into the darkness She did not ask where they
were going she did not care She sat in a fullness and a pure potency that was
like apathy mindless and immobile She was next to him and hung in a pure
rest as a star is hung balanced unthinkably Still there remained a dark
lambency of anticipation She would touch him With perfect fine fingertips of
reality she would touch the reality in him the suave pure untranslatable
reality of his loins of darkness To touch mindlessly in darkness to come in
pure touching upon the living reality of him his suave perfect loins and thighs
of darkness this was her sustaining anticipation
And he too waited in the magical steadfastness of suspense for her to take
this knowledge of him as he had taken it of her He knew her darkly with the
fullness of dark knowledge Now she would know him and he too would be
liberated He would be nightfree like an Egyptian steadfast in perfectly
suspended equilibrium pure mystic nodality of physical being They would give
each other this starequilibrium which alone is freedom
She saw that they were running among trees great old trees with dying
bracken undergrowth The palish gnarled trunks showed ghostly and like old
priests in the hovering distance the fern rose magical and mysterious It was a
night all darkness with low cloud The motorcar advanced slowly
»Where are we« she whispered
»In Sherwood Forest«
It was evident he knew the place He drove softly watching Then they came
to a green road between the trees They turned cautiously round and were
advancing between the oaks of the forest down a green lane The green lane
widened into a little circle of grass where there was a small trickle of water
at the bottom of a sloping bank The car stopped
»We will stay here« he said »and put out the lights«
He extinguished the lamps at once and it was pure night with shadows of
trees like realities of other nightly being He threw a rug on to the bracken
and they sat in stillness and mindless silence There were faint sounds from the
wood but no disturbance no possible disturbance the world was under a strange
ban a new mystery had supervened They threw off their clothes and he gathered
her to him and found her found the pure lambent reality of her for ever
invisible flesh Quenched inhuman his fingers upon her unrevealed nudity were
the fingers of silence upon silence the body of mysterious night upon the body
of mysterious night the night masculine and feminine never to be seen with the
eye or known with the mind, only known as a palpable revelation of living
otherness
She had her desire of him she touched she received the maximum of
unspeakable communication in touch dark subtle positively silent a
magnificent gift and give again a perfect acceptance and yielding a mystery
the reality of that which can never be known vital sensual reality that can
never be transmuted into mind content but remains outside living body of
darkness and silence and subtlety the mystic body of reality She had her
desire fulfilled He had his desire fulfilled For she was to him what he was to
her the immemorial magnificence of mystic palpable real otherness
They slept the chilly night through under the hood of the car a night of
unbroken sleep It was already high day when he awoke They looked at each other
and laughed then looked away filled with darkness and secrecy Then they
kissed and remembered the magnificence of the night It was so magnificent such
an inheritance of a universe of dark reality that they were afraid to seem to
remember They hid away the remembrance and the knowledge
Chapter XXIV
Death and Love
Thomas Crich died slowly terribly slowly It seemed impossible to everybody
that the thread of life could be drawn out so thin and yet not break The sick
man lay unutterably weak and spent kept alive by morphia and by drinks which
he sipped slowly He was only half conscious a thin strand of consciousness
linking the darkness of death with the light of day Yet his will was unbroken
he was integral complete Only he must have perfect stillness about him
Any presence but that of the nurses was a strain and an effort to him now
Every morning Gerald went into the room hoping to find his father passed away
at last Yet always he saw the same transparent face the same dread dark hair
on the waxen forehead and the awful inchoate dark eyes which seemed to be
decomposing into formless darkness having only a tiny grain of vision within
them
And always as the dark inchoate eyes turned to him there passed through
Geralds bowels a burning stroke of revolt that seemed to resound through his
whole being threatening to break his mind with its clangour and making him
mad
Every morning the son stood there erect and taut with life gleaming in
his blondness The gleaming blondness of his strange imminent being put the
father into a fever of fretful irritation He could not bear to meet the
uncanny downward look of Geralds blue eyes But it was only for a moment Each
on the brink of departure the father and son looked at each other then parted
For a long time Gerald preserved a perfect sang froid he remained quite
collected But at last fear undermined him He was afraid of some horrible
collapse in himself He had to stay and see this thing through Some perverse
will made him watch his father drawn over the borders of life And yet now
every day the great redhot stroke of horrified fear through the bowels of the
son struck a further inflammation Gerald went about all day with a tendency to
cringe as if there were the point of a sword of Damocles pricking the nape of
his neck
There was no escape he was bound up with his father he had to see him
through And the fathers will never relaxed or yielded to death It would have
to snap when death at last snapped it if it did not persist after a physical
death In the same way the will of the son never yielded He stood firm and
immune he was outside this death and this dying
It was a trial by ordeal Could he stand and see his father slowly dissolve
and disappear in death without once yielding his will without once relenting
before the omnipotence of death Like a Red Indian undergoing torture Gerald
would experience the whole process of slow death without wincing or flinching
He even triumphed in it He somehow wanted this death even forced it It was as
if he himself were dealing the death even when he most recoiled in horror
Still he would deal it he would triumph through death
But in the stress of this ordeal Gerald too lost his hold on the outer
daily life That which was much to him came to mean nothing Work pleasure
it was all left behind He went on more or less mechanically with his business
but this activity was all extraneous The real activity was this ghastly
wrestling for death in his own soul And his own will should triumph Come what
might he would not bow down or submit or acknowledge a master He had no master
in death
But as the fight went on and all that he had been and was continued to be
destroyed so that life was a hollow shell all round him roaring and clattering
like the sound of the sea a noise in which he participated externally and
inside this hollow shell was all the darkness and fearful space of death he
knew he would have to find reinforcements otherwise he would collapse inwards
upon the great dark void which circled at the centre of his soul His will held
his outer life his outer mind his outer being unbroken and unchanged But the
pressure was too great He would have to find something to make good the
equilibrium Something must come with him into the hollow void of death in his
soul fill it up and so equalise the pressure within to the pressure without
For day by day he felt more and more like a bubble filled with darkness round
which whirled the iridescence of his consciousness, and upon which the pressure
of the outer world the outer life roared vastly
In this extremity his instinct led him to Gudrun He threw away everything
now he only wanted the relation established with her He would follow her to
the studio to be near her to talk to her He would stand about the room
aimlessly picking up the implements the lumps of clay the little figures she
had cast they were whimsical and grotesque looking at them without
perceiving them And she felt him following her dogging her heels like a doom
She held away from him and yet she knew he drew always a little nearer a
little nearer
»I say« he said to her one evening in an odd unthinking uncertain way
»wont you stay to dinner tonight I wish you would«
She started slightly He spoke to her like a man making a request of another
man
»Theyll be expecting me at home« she said
»Oh they wont mind will they« he said »I should be awfully glad if
youd stay«
Her long silence gave consent at last
»Ill tell Thomas shall I« he said
»I must go almost immediately after dinner« she said
It was a dark cold evening There was no fire in the drawingroom they sat
in the library He was mostly silent absent and Winifred talked little But
when Gerald did rouse himself he smiled and was pleasant and ordinary with her
Then there came over him again the long blanks of which he was not aware
She was very much attracted by him He looked so preoccupied and his
strange blank silences which she could not read moved her and made her wonder
over him made her feel reverential towards him
But he was very kind He gave her the best things at the table he had a
bottle of slightly sweet delicious golden wine brought out for dinner knowing
she would prefer it to the burgundy She felt herself esteemed needed almost
As they took coffee in the library there was a soft very soft knocking at
the door He started and called Come in The timbre of his voice like
something vibrating at high pitch unnerved Gudrun A nurse in white entered
half hovering in the doorway like a shadow She was very goodlooking but
strangely enough shy and selfmistrusting
»The doctor would like to speak to you Mr Crich« she said in her low
discreet voice
»The doctor« he said starting up »Where is he«
»He is in the diningroom«
»Tell him Im coming«
He drank up his coffee and followed the nurse who had dissolved like a
shadow
»Which nurse was that« asked Gudrun
»Miss Inglis I like her best« replied Winifred
After a while Gerald came back looking absorbed by his own thoughts and
having some of that tension and abstraction which is seen in a slightly drunken
man He did not say what the doctor had wanted him for but stood before the
fire with his hands behind his back and his face open and as if rapt Not that
he was really thinking he was only arrested in pure suspense inside himself
and thoughts wafted through his mind without order
»I must go now and see Mama« said Winifred »and see Dadda before he goes
to sleep«
She bade them both goodnight
Gudrun also rose to take her leave
»You neednt go yet need you« said Gerald glancing quickly at the clock
»It is early yet Ill walk down with you when you go Sit down dont hurry
away«
Gudrun sat down as if absent as he was his will had power over her She
felt almost mesmerised He was strange to her something unknown What was he
thinking what was he feeling as he stood there so rapt saying nothing He
kept her she could feel that He would not let her go She watched him in
humble submissiveness
»Had the doctor anything new to tell you« she asked softly at length with
that gentle timid sympathy which touched a keen fibre in his heart He lifted
his eyebrows with a negligent indifferent expression
»No nothing new« he replied as if the question were quite casual
trivial »He says the pulse is very weak indeed very intermittent but that
doesnt necessarily mean much you know«
He looked down at her Her eyes were dark and soft and unfolded with a
stricken look that roused him
»No« she murmured at length »I dont understand anything about these
things«
»Just as well not« he said »I say wont you have a cigarette do« He
quickly fetched the box and held her a light Then he stood before her on the
hearth again
»No« he said »weve never had much illness in the house either not till
father« He seemed to meditate a while Then looking down at her with strangely
communicative blue eyes that filled her with dread he continued »Its
something you dont reckon with you know till it is there And then you
realise that it was there all the time it was always there you understand
what I mean the possibility of this incurable illness this slow death«
He moved his feet uneasily on the marble hearth and put his cigarette to his
mouth looking up at the ceiling
»I know« murmured Gudrun »it is dreadful«
He smoked without knowing Then he took the cigarette from his lips bared
his teeth and putting the tip of his tongue between his teeth spat off a grain
of tobacco turning slightly aside like a man who is alone or who is lost in
thought
»I dont know what the effect actually is on one« he said and again he
looked down at her Her eyes were dark and stricken with knowledge looking into
his He saw her submerged and he turned aside his face »But I absolutely am
not the same Theres nothing left if you understand what I mean You seem to
be clutching at the void and at the same time you are void yourself And so
you dont know what to do«
»No« she murmured A heavy thrill ran down her nerves heavy almost
pleasure almost pain »What can be done« she added
He turned and flipped the ash from his cigarette on to the great marble
hearthstones that lay bare in the room without fender or bar
»I dont know Im sure« he replied »But I do think youve got to find
some way of resolving the situation not because you want to but because
youve got to otherwise youre done The whole of everything and yourself
included is just on the point of caving in and you are just holding it up with
your hands Well its a situation that obviously cant continue You cant
stand holding the roof up with your hands for ever You know that sooner or
later youll have to let go Do you understand what I mean And so somethings
got to be done or theres a universal collapse as far as you yourself are
concerned«
He shifted slightly on the hearth crunching a cinder under his heel He
looked down at it Gudrun was aware of the beautiful old marble panels of the
fireplace swelling softly carved round him and above him She felt as if she
were caught at last by fate imprisoned in some horrible and fatal trap
»But what can be done« she murmured humbly »You must use me if I can be of
any help at all but how can I I dont see how I can help you«
He looked down at her critically
»I dont want you to help« he said slightly irritated »because theres
nothing to be done I only want sympathy do you see I want somebody I can talk
to sympathetically That eases the strain And there is nobody to talk to
sympathetically Thats the curious thing There is nobody Theres Rupert
Birkin But then he isnt sympathetic he wants to dictate And that is no use
whatsoever«
She was caught in a strange snare She looked down at her hands
Then there was the sound of the door softly opening Gerald started He was
chagrined It was his starting that really startled Gudrun Then he went
forward with quick graceful intentional courtesy
»Oh mother« he said »How nice of you to come down How are you«
The elderly woman loosely and bulkily wrapped in a purple gown came
forward silently slightly hulked as usual Her son was at her side He pushed
her up a chair saying »You know Miss Brangwen dont you«
The mother glanced at Gudrun indifferently
»Yes« she said Then she turned her wonderful forgetmenot blue eyes up
to her son as she slowly sat down in the chair he had brought her
»I came to ask you about your father« she said in her rapid scarcely
audible voice »I didnt know you had company«
»No Didnt Winifred tell you Miss Brangwen stayed to dinner to make us a
little more lively «
Mrs Crich turned slowly round to Gudrun and looked at her but with
unseeing eyes
»Im afraid it would be no treat to her« Then she turned again to her son
»Winifred tells me the doctor had something to say about your father What is
it«
»Only that the pulse is very weak misses altogether a good many times so
that he might not last the night out« Gerald replied
Mrs Crich sat perfectly impassive as if she had not heard Her bulk seemed
hunched in the chair her fair hair hung slack over her ears But her skin was
clear and fine her hands as she sat with them forgotten and folded were quite
beautiful full of potential energy A great mass of energy seemed decaying up
in that silent hulking form
She looked up at her son as he stood keen and soldierly near to her Her
eyes were most wonderfully blue bluer than forgetmenots She seemed to have a
certain confidence in Gerald and to feel a certain motherly mistrust of him
»How are you« she muttered in her strangely quiet voice as if nobody
should hear but him »Youre not getting into a state are you Youre not
letting it make you hysterical«
The curious challenge in the last words startled Gudrun
»I dont think so mother« he answered rather coldly cheery »Somebodys
got to see it through you know«
»Have they Have they« answered his mother rapidly »Why should you take it
on yourself What have you got to do seeing it through It will see itself
through You are not needed«
»No I dont suppose I can do any good« he answered »Its just how it
affects us you see«
»You like to be affected dont you Its quite nuts for you You would
have to be important You have no need to stop at home Why dont you go away«
These sentences evidently the ripened grain of many dark hours took Gerald
by surprise
»I dont think its any good going away now mother at the last minute« he
said coldly
»You take care« replied his mother »You mind yourself thats your
business You take too much on yourself You mind yourself or youll find
yourself in Queer Street thats what will happen to you Youre hysterical
always were«
»Im all right mother« he said »Theres no need to worry about me I
assure you«
»Let the dead bury their dead dont go and bury yourself along with them
thats what I tell you I know you well enough«
He did not answer this not knowing what to say The mother sat bunched up
in silence her beautiful white hands that had no rings whatsoever clasping
the pommels of her armchair
»You cant do it« she said almost bitterly »You havent the nerve Youre
as weak as a cat really always were Is this young woman staying here«
»No« said Gerald »She is going home tonight«
»Then shed better have the dogcart Does she go far«
»Only to Beldover«
»Ah« The elderly woman never looked at Gudrun yet she seemed to take
knowledge of her presence
»You are inclined to take too much on yourself Gerald« said the mother
pulling herself to her feet with a little difficulty
»Will you go mother« he asked politely
»Yes Ill go up again« she replied Turning to Gudrun she bade her
Goodnight Then she went slowly to the door as if she were unaccustomed to
walking At the door she lifted her face to him implicitly He kissed her
»Dont come any further with me« she said in her barely audible voice »I
dont want you any further«
He bade her goodnight watched her across to the stairs and mount slowly
Then he closed the door and came back to Gudrun Gudrun rose also to go
»A queer being my mother« he said
»Yes« replied Gudrun
»She has her own thoughts«
»Yes« said Gudrun
Then they were silent
»You want to go« he asked »Half a minute Ill just have a horse put in «
»No« said Gudrun »I want to walk«
He had promised to walk with her down the long lonely mile of drive and
she wanted this
»You might just as well drive« he said
»Id much rather walk« she asserted with emphasis
»You would Then I will come along with you You know where your things are
Ill put boots on«
He put on a cap and an overcoat over his evening dress They went out into
the night
»Let us light a cigarette« he said stopping in a sheltered angle of the
porch »You have one too«
So with the scent of tobacco on the night air they set off down the dark
drive that ran between closecut hedges through sloping meadows
He wanted to put his arm round her If he could put his arm round her and
draw her against him as they walked he would equilibrate himself For now he
felt like a pair of scales the half of which tips down and down into an
indefinite void He must recover some sort of balance And here was the hope and
the perfect recovery
Blind to her thinking only of himself he slipped his arm softly round her
waist and drew her to him Her heart fainted feeling herself taken But then
his arm was so strong she quailed under its powerful close grasp She died a
little death and was drawn against him as they walked down the stormy darkness
He seemed to balance her perfectly in opposition to himself in their dual
motion of walking So suddenly he was liberated and perfect strong heroic
He put his hand to his mouth and threw his cigarette away a gleaming point
into the unseen hedge Then he was quite free to balance her
»Thats better« he said with exultancy
The exultation in his voice was like a sweetish poisonous drug to her Did
she then mean so much to him She sipped the poison
»Are you happier« she asked wistfully
»Much better« he said in the same exultant voice »and I was rather far
gone«
She nestled against him He felt her all soft and warm she was the rich
lovely substance of his being The warmth and motion of her walk suffused
through him wonderfully
»Im so glad if I help you« she said
»Yes« he answered »Theres nobody else could do it if you wouldnt«
»That is true« she said to herself with a thrill of strange fatal
elation
As they walked he seemed to lift her nearer and nearer to himself till she
moved upon the firm vehicle of his body He was so strong so sustaining and he
could not be opposed She drifted along in a wonderful interfusion of physical
motion down the dark blowy hillside Far across shone the little yellow
lights of Beldover many of them spread in a thick patch on another dark hill
But he and she were walking in perfect isolated darkness outside the world
»But how much do you care for me« came her voice almost querulous »You
see I dont know I dont understand«
»How much« His voice rang with a painful elation »I dont know either
but everything« He was startled by his own declaration It was true So he
stripped himself of every safeguard in making this admission to her He cared
everything for her she was everything
»But I cant believe it« said her low voice amazed trembling She was
trembling with doubt and exultance This was the thing she wanted to hear only
this Yet now she heard it heard the strange clapping vibration of truth in his
voice as he said it she could not believe She could not believe she did not
believe Yet she believed triumphantly with fatal exultance
»Why not« he said »Why dont you believe it Its true It is true as we
stand at this moment « he stood still with her in the wind »I care for nothing
on earth or in heaven outside this spot where we are And it isnt my own
presence I care about it is all yours Id sell my soul a hundred times but I
couldnt bear not to have you here I couldnt bear to be alone My brain would
burst It is true« He drew her closer to him with definite movement
»No« she murmured afraid Yet this was what she wanted Why did she so
lose courage
They resumed their strange walk They were such strangers and yet they
were so frightfully unthinkably near It was like a madness Yet it was what
she wanted it was what she wanted They had descended the hill and now they
were coming to the square arch where the road passed under the colliery railway
The arch Gudrun knew had walls of squared stone mossy on one side with water
that trickled down dry on the other side She had stood under it to hear the
train rumble thundering over the logs overhead And she knew that under this
dark and lonely bridge the young colliers stood in the darkness with their
sweethearts in rainy weather And so she wanted to stand under the bridge with
her sweetheart and be kissed under the bridge in the invisible darkness Her
steps dragged as she drew near
So under the bridge they came to a standstill and he lifted her upon his
breast His body vibrated taut and powerful as he closed upon her and crushed
her breathless and dazed and destroyed crushed her upon his breast Ah it was
terrible and perfect Under this bridge the colliers pressed their lovers to
their breast And now under the bridge the master of them all pressed her to
himself And how much more powerful and terrible was his embrace than theirs
how much more concentrated and supreme his love was than theirs in the same
sort She felt she would swoon die under the vibrating inhuman tension of his
arms and his body she would pass away Then the unthinkable high vibration
slackened and became more undulating He slackened and drew her with him to
stand with his back to the wall
She was almost unconscious So the colliers lovers would stand with their
backs to the walls holding their sweethearts and kissing them as she was being
kissed Ah but would their kisses be fine and powerful as the kisses of the
firmmouthed master Even the keen shortcut moustache the colliers would not
have that
And the colliers sweethearts would like herself hang their heads back
limp over their shoulder and look out from the dark archway at the close patch
of yellow lights on the unseen hill in the distance or at the vague form of
trees and at the buildings of the colliery woodyard in the other direction
His arms were fast around her he seemed to be gathering her into himself
her warmth her softness her adorable weight drinking in the suffusion of her
physical being avidly He lifted her and seemed to pour her into himself like
wine into a cup
»This is worth everything« he said in a strange penetrating voice
So she relaxed and seemed to melt to flow into him as if she were some
infinitely warm and precious suffusion filling into his veins like an
intoxicant Her arms were round his neck he kissed her and held her perfectly
suspended she was all slack and flowing into him and he was the firm strong
cup that receives the wine of her life So she lay cast upon him stranded
lifted up against him melting and melting under his kisses melting into his
limbs and bones as if he were soft iron becoming surcharged with her electric
life
Till she seemed to swoon gradually her mind went and she passed away
everything in her was melted down and fluid and she lay still become contained
by him sleeping in him as lightning sleeps in a pure soft stone So she was
passed away and gone in him and he was perfected
When she opened her eyes again and saw the patch of lights in the distance
it seemed to her strange that the world still existed that she was standing
under the bridge resting her head on Geralds breast Gerald who was he He
was the exquisite adventure the desirable unknown to her
She looked up and in the darkness saw his face above her his shapely male
face There seemed a faint white light emitted from him a white aura as if he
were a visitor from the unseen She reached up like Eve reaching to the apples
on the tree of knowledge, and she kissed him though her passion was a
transcendent fear of the thing he was touching his face with her infinitely
delicate encroaching wondering fingers Her fingers went over the mould of his
face over his features How perfect and foreign he was ah how dangerous Her
soul thrilled with complete knowledge This was the glistening forbidden apple
this face of a man She kissed him putting her fingers over his face his eyes
his nostrils over his brows and his ears to his neck to know him to gather
him in by touch He was so firm and shapely with such satisfying inconceivable
shapeliness strange yet unutterably clear He was such an unutterable enemy
yet glistening with uncanny white fire She wanted to touch him and touch him
and touch him till she had him all in her hands till she had strained him into
her knowledge Ah if she could have the precious knowledge of him she would be
filled and nothing could deprive her of this For he was so unsure so risky in
the common world of day
»You are so beautiful« she murmured in her throat
He wondered and was suspended But she felt him quiver and she came down
involuntarily nearer upon him He could not help himself Her fingers had him
under their power The fathomless fathomless desire they could evoke in him was
deeper than death where he had no choice
But she knew now and it was enough For the time her soul was destroyed
with the exquisite shock of his invisible fluid lightning She knew And this
knowledge was a death from which she must recover How much more of him was
there to know Ah much much many days harvesting for her large yet perfectly
subtle and intelligent hands upon the field of his living radioactive body
Ah her hands were eager greedy for knowledge But for the present it was
enough enough as much as her soul could bear Too much and she would shatter
herself she would fill the fine vial of her soul too quickly and it would
break Enough now enough for the time being There were all the after days
when her hands like birds could feed upon the fields of his mystical plastic
form till then enough
And even he was glad to be checked rebuked held back For to desire is
better than to possess the finality of the end was dreaded as deeply as it was
desired
They walked on towards the town towards where the lamps threaded singly at
long intervals down the dark highroad of the valley They came at length to
the gate of the drive
»Dont come any further« she said
»Youd rather I didnt« he asked relieved He did not want to go up the
public streets with her his soul all naked and alight as it was
»Much rather goodnight« She held out her hand He grasped it then
touched the perilous potent fingers with his lips
»Goodnight« he said »Tomorrow«
And they parted He went home full of the strength and the power of living
desire
But the next day she did not come she sent a note that she was kept
indoors by a cold Here was a torment But he possessed his soul in some sort of
patience writing a brief answer telling her how sorry he was not to see her
The day after this he stayed at home it seemed so futile to go down to
the office His father could not live the week out And he wanted to be at home
suspended
Gerald sat on a chair by the window in his fathers room The landscape
outside was black and wintersodden His father lay grey and ashen on the bed a
nurse moved silently in her white dress neat and elegant even beautiful There
was a scent of eaudeCologne in the room The nurse went out of the room
Gerald was alone with death facing the winterblack landscape
»Is there much more water in Denley« came the faint voice determined and
querulous from the bed The dying man was asking about a leakage from Willey
Water into one of the pits
»Some more we shall have to run off the lake« said Gerald
»Will you« The faint voice filtered to extinction There was dead
stillness The greyfaced sick man lay with eyes closed more dead than death
Gerald looked away He felt his heart was seared it would perish if this went
on much longer
Suddenly he heard a strange noise Turning round he saw his fathers eyes
wide open strained and rolling in a frenzy of inhuman struggling Gerald
started to his feet and stood transfixed in horror
»Whaaahhh« came a horrible choking rattle from his fathers throat the
fearful frenzied eye rolling awfully in its wild fruitless search for help
passed blindly over Gerald then up came the dark blood and mess pumping over
the face of the agonised being The tense body relaxed the head fell aside
down the pillow
Gerald stood transfixed his soul echoing in horror He would move but he
could not He could not move his limbs His brain seemed to reecho like a
pulse
The nurse in white softly entered She glanced at Gerald then at the bed
»Ah« came her soft whimpering cry and she hurried forward to the dead man
»Ahh« came the slight sound of her agitated distress as she stood bending
over the bedside Then she recovered turned and came for towel and sponge She
was wiping the dead face carefully and murmuring almost whimpering very
softly »Poor Mr Crich Poor Mr Crich Oh poor Mr Crich«
»Is he dead« clanged Geralds sharp voice
»Oh yes hes gone« replied the soft moaning voice of the nurse as she
looked up at Geralds face She was young and beautiful and quivering A strange
sort of grin went over Geralds face over the horror And he walked out of the
room
He was going to tell his mother On the landing he met his brother Basil
»Hes gone Basil« he said scarcely able to subdue his voice not to let
an unconscious frightening exultation sound through
»What« cried Basil going pale
Gerald nodded Then he went on to his mothers room
She was sitting in her purple gown sewing very slowly sewing putting in a
stitch then another stitch She looked up at Gerald with her blue undaunted
eyes
»Fathers gone« he said
»Hes dead Who says so«
»Oh you know mother if you see him«
She put her sewing down and slowly rose
»Are you going to see him« he asked
»Yes« she said
By the bedside the children already stood in a weeping group
»Oh mother« cried the daughters almost in hysterics weeping loudly
But the mother went forward The dead man lay in repose as if gently
asleep so gently so peacefully like a young man sleeping in purity He was
still warm She stood looking at him in gloomy heavy silence for some time
»Ay« she said bitterly at length speaking as if to the unseen witnesses
of the air »Youre dead« She stood for some minutes in silence looking down
»Beautiful« she asserted »beautiful as if life had never touched you never
touched you God send I look different I hope I shall look my years when I am
dead Beautiful beautiful« she crooned over him »You can see him in his
teens with his first beard on his face A beautiful soul beautiful « Then
there was a tearing in her voice as she cried »None of you look like this when
you are dead Dont let it happen again« It was a strange wild command from
out of the unknown Her children moved unconsciously together in a nearer
group at the dreadful command in her voice The colour was flushed bright in
her cheek she looked awful and wonderful »Blame me blame me if you like that
he lies there like a lad in his teens with his first beard on his face Blame
me if you like But you none of you know« She was silent in intense silence
Then there came in a low tense voice »If I thought that the children I bore
would lie looking like that in death Id strangle them when they were infants
yes «
»No mother« came the strange clarion voice of Gerald from the background
»we are different we dont blame you«
She turned and looked full in his eyes Then she lifted her hands in a
strange halfgesture of mad despair
»Pray« she said strongly »Pray for yourselves to God for theres no help
for you from your parents«
»Oh mother« cried her daughters wildly
But she had turned and gone and they all went quickly away from each other
When Gudrun heard that Mr Crich was dead she felt rebuked She had stayed
away lest Gerald should think her too easy of winning And now he was in the
midst of trouble whilst she was cold
The following day she went up as usual to Winifred who was glad to see her
glad to get away into the studio The girl had wept and then too frightened
had turned aside to avoid any more tragic eventuality She and Gudrun resumed
work as usual in the isolation of the studio and this seemed an immeasurable
happiness a pure world of freedom after the aimlessness and misery of the
house Gudrun stayed on till evening She and Winifred had dinner brought up to
the studio where they ate in freedom away from all the people in the house
After dinner Gerald came up The great high studio was full of shadow and a
fragrance of coffee Gudrun and Winifred had a little table near the fire at the
far end with a white lamp whose light did not travel far They were a tiny
world to themselves the two girls surrounded by lovely shadows the beams and
rafters shadowy overhead the benches and implements shadowy down the studio
»You are cosy enough here« said Gerald going up to them
There was a low brick fireplace full of fire an old blue Turkish rug the
little oak table with the lamp and the whiteandblue cloth and the dessert and
Gudrun making coffee in an odd brass coffeemaker and Winifred scalding a
little milk in a tiny saucepan
»Have you had coffee« said Gudrun
»I have but Ill have some more with you« he replied
»Then you must have it in a glass there are only two cups« said Winifred
»It is the same to me« he said taking a chair and coming into the charmed
circle of the girls How happy they were how cosy and glamorous it was with
them in a world of lofty shadows The outside world in which he had been
transacting funeral business all the day was completely wiped out In an
instant he snuffed glamour and magic
They had all their things very dainty two odd and lovely little cups
scarlet and solid gilt and a little black jug with scarlet discs and the
curious coffee machine whose spiritflame flowed steadily almost invisibly
There was the effect of rather sinister richness in which Gerald at once
escaped himself
They all sat down and Gudrun carefully poured out the coffee
»Will you have milk« she asked calmly yet nervously poising the little
black jug with its big red dots She was always so completely controlled yet so
bitterly nervous
»No I wont« he replied
So with a curious humility she placed him the little cup of coffee and
herself took the awkward tumbler She seemed to want to serve him
»Why dont you give me the glass it is so clumsy for you« he said He
would much rather have had it and seen her daintily served But she was silent
pleased with the disparity with her selfabasement
»You are quite en ménage« he said
»Yes We arent really at home to visitors« said Winifred
»Youre not Then Im an intruder«
For once he felt his conventional dress was out of place he was an
outsider
Gudrun was very quiet She did not feel drawn to talk to him At this stage
silence was best or mere light words It was best to leave serious things
aside So they talked gaily and lightly till they heard the man below lead out
the horse and call it to »Backback« into the dogcart that was to take Gudrun
home So she put on her things and shook hands with Gerald without once meeting
his eyes And she was gone
The funeral was detestable Afterwards at the teatable the daughters kept
saying »He was a good father to us the best father in the world« or else
»We shant easily find another man as good as father was«
Gerald acquiesced in all this It was the right conventional attitude and
as far as the world went he believed in the conventions He took it as a matter
of course But Winifred hated everything and hid in the studio and cried her
heart out and wished Gudrun would come
Luckily everybody was going away The Criches never stayed long at home By
dinnertime Gerald was left quite alone Even Winifred was carried off to
London for a few days with her sister Laura
But when Gerald was really left alone he could not bear it One day passed
by and another And all the time he was like a man hung in chains over the edge
of an abyss Struggle as he might he could not turn himself to the solid earth
he could not get footing He was suspended on the edge of a void writhing
Whatever he thought of was the abyss whether it were friends or strangers or
work or play it all showed him only the same bottomless void in which his
heart swung perishing There was no escape there was nothing to grasp hold of
He must writhe on the edge of the chasm suspended in chains of invisible
physical life
At first he was quiet he kept still expecting the extremity to pass away
expecting to find himself released into the world of the living after this
extremity of penance But it did not pass and a crisis gained upon him
As the evening of the third day came on his heart rang with fear He could
not bear another night Another night was coming on for another night he was to
be suspended in chain of physical life over the bottomless pit of nothingness
And he could not bear it He could not bear it He was frightened deeply and
coldly frightened in his soul He did not believe in his own strength any more
He could not fall into this infinite void and rise again If he fell he would
be gone for ever He must withdraw he must seek reinforcements He did not
believe in his own single self any further than this
After dinner faced with the ultimate experience of his own nothingness he
turned aside He pulled on his boots put on his coat and set out to walk in
the night
It was dark and misty He went through the wood stumbling and feeling his
way to the Mill Birkin was away Good he was half glad He turned up the
hill and stumbled blindly over the wild slopes having lost the path in the
complete darkness It was boring Where was he going No matter He stumbled on
till he came to a path again Then he went on through another wood His mind
became dark he went on automatically Without thought or sensation he stumbled
unevenly on out into the open again fumbling for stiles losing the path and
going along the hedges of the fields till he came to the outlet
And at last he came to high road It had distracted him to struggle blindly
through the maze of darkness But now he must take a direction And he did not
even know where he was But he must take a direction now Nothing would be
resolved by merely walking walking away He had to take a direction
He stood still on the road that was high in the utterly dark night and he
did not know where he was It was a strange sensation his heart beating and
ringed round with the utterly unknown darkness So he stood for some time
Then he heard footsteps and saw a small swinging light He immediately
went towards this It was a miner
»Can you tell me« he said »where this road goes«
»Road Ay it goes ter Whatmore«
»Whatmore Oh thank you thats right I thought I was wrong Goodnight«
»Goodnight« replied the broad voice of the miner
Gerald guessed where he was At least when he came to Whatmore he would
know He was glad to be on a high road He walked forward as in a sleep of
decision
That was Whatmore Village Yes the Kings Head and there the hall
gates He descended the steep hill almost running Winding through the hollow
he passed the Grammar School and came to Willey Green Church The churchyard
He halted
Then in another moment he had clambered up the wall and was going among the
graves Even in this darkness he could see the heaped pallor of old white
flowers at his feet This then was the grave He stooped down The flowers were
cold and clammy There was a raw scent of chrysanthemums and tuberoses
deadened He felt the clay beneath and shrank it was so horribly cold and
sticky He stood away in revulsion
Here was one centre then here in the complete darkness beside the unseen
raw grave But there was nothing for him here No he had nothing to stay here
for He felt as if some of the clay were sticking cold and unclean on his heart
No enough of this
Where then home Never It was no use going there That was less than no
use It could not be done There was somewhere else to go Where
A dangerous resolve formed in his heart like a fixed idea There was Gudrun
she would be safe in her home But he could get at her he would get at her
He would not go back tonight till he had come to her if it cost him his life
He staked his all on this throw
He set off walking straight across the fields towards Beldover It was so
dark nobody could ever see him His feet were wet and cold heavy with clay
But he went on persistently like a wind straight forward as if to his fate
There were great gaps in his consciousness He was conscious that he was at
Winthorpe hamlet but quite unconscious how he had got there And then as in a
dream he was in the long street of Beldover with its streetlamps
There was a noise of voices and of a door shutting loudly and being
barred and of men talking in the night The Lord Nelson had just closed and
the drinkers were going home He had better ask one of these where she lived
for he did not know the side streets at all
»Can you tell me where Somerset Drive is« he asked of one of the uneven
men
»Where what« replied the tipsy miners voice
»Somerset Drive«
»Somerset Drive Ive heard o such a place but I couldnt for my life
say where it is Who might you be wanting«
»Mr Brangwen William Brangwen«
»William Brangwen «
»Who teaches at the Grammar School at Willey Green his daughter teaches
there too«
»Ooooh Brangwen Now Ive got you Of course William Brangwen Yes
yes hes got two lasses as teachers aside hisself Ay thats him thats
him Why certainly I know where he lives back your life I do Yi what place
do they ca it«
»Somerset Drive« repeated Gerald patiently He knew his own colliers fairly
well
»Somerset Drive for certain« said the collier swinging his arm as if
catching something up »Somerset Drive yi I couldnt for my life lay hold o
the lercality o the place Yis I know the place to be sure I do «
He turned unsteadily on his feet and pointed up the dark nighdeserted
road
»You go up theer an you tae th first yi th first turnin on your
left o that side past Withamses tuffy shop «
»I know« said Gerald
»Ay You go down a bit past wheer th waterman lives and then Somerset
Drive as they ca it branches off on t right hand side an theres nowt but
three houses in it no more than three I believe an Im amost certain as
theirs is th last th last o th three you see «
»Thank you very much« said Gerald »Goodnight«
And he started off leaving the tipsy man there standing rooted
Gerald went past the dark shops and houses most of them sleeping now and
twisted round to the little blind road that ended on a field of darkness He
slowed down as he neared his goal not knowing how he should proceed What if
the house were closed in darkness
But it was not He saw a big lighted window and heard voices then a gate
banged His quick ears caught the sound of Birkins voice his keen eyes made
out Birkin with Ursula standing in a pale dress on the step of the garden path
Then Ursula stepped down and came along the road holding Birkins arm
Gerald went across into the darkness and they dawdled past him talking
happily Birkins voice low Ursulas high and distinct Gerald went quickly to
the house
The blinds were drawn before the big lighted window of the diningroom
Looking up the path at the side he could see the door left open shedding a
soft coloured light from the hall lamp He went quickly and silently up the
path and looked up into the hall There were pictures on the walls and the
antlers of a stag and the stairs going up on one side and just near the foot
of the stairs the half opened door of the diningroom
With heart drawn fine Gerald stepped into the hall whose floor was of
coloured tiles went quickly and looked into the large pleasant room In a
chair by the fire the father sat asleep his head tilted back against the side
of the big oak chimneypiece his ruddy face seen foreshortened the nostrils
open the mouth fallen a little It would take the merest sound to wake him
Gerald stood a second suspended He glanced down the passage behind him It
was all dark Again he was suspended Then he went swiftly upstairs His senses
were so finely almost supernaturally keen that he seemed to cast his own will
over the halfunconscious house
He came to the first landing There he stood scarcely breathing Again
corresponding to the door below there was a door again That would be the
mothers room He could hear her moving about in the candlelight She would be
expecting her husband to come up He looked along the dark landing
Then silently on infinitely careful feet he went along the passage
feeling the wall with the extreme tips of his fingers There was a door He
stood and listened He could hear two peoples breathing It was not that He
went stealthily forward There was another door slightly open The room was in
darkness Empty Then there was the bathroom he could smell the soap and the
heat Then at the end another bedroom one soft breathing This was she
With an almost occult carefulness he turned the doorhandle and opened the
door an inch It creaked slightly Then he opened it another inch then
another His heart did not beat he seemed to create a silence about himself an
obliviousness
He was in the room Still the sleeper breathed softly It was very dark He
felt his way forward inch by inch with his feet and hands He touched the bed
he could hear the sleeper He drew nearer bending close as if his eyes would
disclose whatever there was And then very near to his face to his fear he
saw the round dark head of a boy
He recovered turned round saw the door afar a faint light revealed And
he retreated swiftly drew the door to without fastening it and passed rapidly
down the passage At the head of the stairs he hesitated There was still time
to flee
But it was unthinkable He would maintain his will He turned past the door
of the parental bedroom like a shadow and was climbing the second flight of
stairs They creaked under his weight it was exasperating Ah what disaster
if the mothers door opened just beneath him and she saw him It would have to
be if it were so He held the control still
He was not quite up these stairs when he heard a quick running of feet
below the outer door was closed and locked he heard Ursulas voice then the
fathers sleepy exclamation He pressed on swiftly to the upper landing
Again a door was ajar a room was empty Feeling his way forward with the
tips of his fingers travelling rapidly like a blind man anxious lest Ursula
should come upstairs he found another door There with his preternaturally
fine senses alert he listened He heard someone moving in bed This would be
she
Softly now like one who has only one sense the tactile sense he turned
the latch It clicked He held still The bedclothes rustled His heart did not
beat Then again he drew the latch back and very gently pushed the door It
made a sticking noise as it gave
»Ursula« said Gudruns voice frightened He quickly opened the door and
pushed it behind him
»Is it you Ursula« came Gudruns frightened voice He heard her sitting up
in bed In another moment she would scream
»No its me« he said feeling his way towards her »It is I Gerald«
She sat motionless in her bed in sheer astonishment She was too astonished
too much taken by surprise even to be afraid
»Gerald« she echoed in blank amazement He had found his way to the bed
and his outstretched hand touched her warm breast blindly She shrank away
»Let me make a light« she said springing out
He stood perfectly motionless He heard her touch the matchbox he heard
her fingers in their movement Then he saw her in the light of a match which
she held to the candle The light rose in the room then sank to a small
dimness as the flame sank down on the candle before it mounted again
She looked at him as he stood near the other side of the bed His cap was
pulled low over his brow his black overcoat was buttoned close up to his chin
His face was strange and luminous He was inevitable as a supernatural being
When she had seen him she knew She knew there was something fatal in the
situation and she must accept it Yet she must challenge him
»How did you come up« she asked
»I walked up the stairs the door was open«
She looked at him
»I havent closed this door either« he said She walked swiftly across the
room and closed her door softly and locked it Then she came back
She was wonderful with startled eyes and flushed cheeks and her plait of
hair rather short and thick down her back and her long fine white nightdress
falling to her feet
She saw that his boots were all clayey even his trousers were plastered
with clay And she wondered if he had made footprints all the way up He was a
very strange figure standing in her bedroom near the tossed bed
»Why have you come« she asked almost querulous
»I wanted to« he replied
And this she could see from his face It was fate
»You are so muddy« she said in distaste but gently
He looked down at his feet
»I was walking in the dark« he replied But he felt vividly elated There
was a pause He stood on one side of the tumbled bed she on the other He did
not even take his cap from his brows
»And what do you want of me« she challenged
He looked aside and did not answer Save for the extreme beauty and mystic
attractiveness of this distinct strange face she would have sent him away But
his face was too wonderful and undiscovered to her It fascinated her with the
fascination of pure beauty cast a spell on her like nostalgia an ache
»What do you want of me« she repeated in an estranged voice
He pulled off his cap in a movement of dreamliberation and went across to
her But he could not touch her because she stood barefoot in her nightdress
and he was muddy and damp Her eyes wide and large and wondering watched him
and asked him the ultimate question
»I came because I must« he said »Why do you ask«
She looked at him in doubt and wonder
»I must ask« she said
He shook his head slightly
»There is no answer« he replied with strange vacancy
There was about him a curious and almost godlike air of simplicity and naïve
directness He reminded her of an apparition the young Hermes
»But why did you come to me« she persisted
»Because it has to be so If there werent you in the world then I
shouldnt be in the world either«
She stood looking at him with large wide wondering stricken eyes His
eyes were looking steadily into hers all the time and he seemed fixed in an odd
supernatural steadfastness She sighed She was lost now She had no choice
»Wont you take off your boots« she said »They must be wet«
He dropped his cap on a chair unbuttoned his overcoat lifting up his chin
to unfasten the throat buttons His short keen hair was ruffled He was so
beautifully blond like wheat He pulled off his overcoat
Quickly he pulled off his jacket pulled loose his black tie and was
unfastening his studs which were headed each with a pearl She listened
watching hoping no one would hear the starched linen crackle It seemed to snap
like pistolshots
He had come for vindication She let him hold her in his arms clasp her
close against him He found in her an infinite relief Into her he poured all
his pentup darkness and corrosive death and he was whole again It was
wonderful marvellous it was a miracle This was the everrecurrent miracle of
his life at the knowledge of which he was lost in an ecstasy of relief and
wonder And she subject received him as a vessel filled with his bitter potion
of death She had no power at this crisis to resist The terrible frictional
violence of death filled her and she received it in an ecstasy of subjection
in throes of acute violent sensation
As he drew nearer to her he plunged deeper into her enveloping soft warmth
a wonderful creative heat that penetrated his veins and gave him life again He
felt himself dissolving and sinking to rest in the bath of her living strength
It seemed as if her heart in her breast were a second unconquerable sun into
the glow and creative strength of which he plunged further and further All his
veins that were murdered and lacerated healed softly as life came pulsing in
stealing invisibly into him as if it were the allpowerful effluence of the sun
His blood which seemed to have been drawn back into death came ebbing on the
return surely beautifully powerfully
He felt his limbs growing fuller and flexible with life his body gained an
unknown strength He was a man again strong and rounded And he was a child so
soothed and restored and full of gratitude
And she she was the great bath of life he worshipped her Mother and
substance of all life she was And he child and man received of her and was
made whole His pure body was almost killed But the miraculous soft effluence
of her breast suffused over him over his seared damaged brain like a healing
lymph like a soft soothing flow of life itself perfect as if he were bathed
in the womb again
His brain was hurt seared the tissue was as if destroyed He had not known
how hurt he was how his tissue the very tissue of his brain was damaged by the
corrosive flood of death Now as the healing lymph of her effluence flowed
through him he knew how destroyed he was like a plant whose tissue is burst
from inwards by a frost
He buried his small hard head between her breasts and pressed her breasts
against him with his hands And she with quivering hands pressed his head
against her as he lay suffused out and she lay fully conscious The lovely
creative warmth flooded through him like a sleep of fecundity within the womb
Ah if only she would grant him the flow of this living effluence he would be
restored he would be complete again He was afraid she would deny him before it
was finished Like a child at the breast he cleaved intensely to her and she
could not put him away And his seared ruined membrane relaxed softened that
which was seared and stiff and blasted yielded again became soft and flexible
palpitating with new life He was infinitely grateful as to God or as an
infant is at its mothers breast He was glad and grateful like a delirium as
he felt his own wholeness come over him again as he felt the full unutterable
sleep coming over him the sleep of complete exhaustion and restoration
But Gudrun lay wide awake destroyed into perfect consciousness She lay
motionless with wide eyes staring motionless into the darkness whilst he was
sunk away in sleep his arms round her
She seemed to be hearing waves break on a hidden shore long slow gloomy
waves breaking with the rhythm of fate so monotonously that it seemed eternal
This endless breaking of slow sullen waves of fate held her life a possession
whilst she lay with dark wide eyes looking into the darkness She could see so
far as far as eternity yet she saw nothing She was suspended in perfect
consciousness and of what was she conscious
This mood of extremity when she lay staring into eternity utterly
suspended and conscious of everything to the last limits passed and left her
uneasy She had lain so long motionless She moved she became selfconscious
She wanted to look at him to see him
But she dared not make a light because she knew he would wake and she did
not want to break his perfect sleep that she knew he had got of her
She disengaged herself softly and rose up a little to look at him There was
a faint light it seemed to her in the room She could just distinguish his
features as he slept the perfect sleep In this darkness she seemed to see him
so distinctly But he was far off in another world Ah she could shriek with
torment he was so far off and perfected in another world She seemed to look
at him as at a pebble far away under clear dark water And here was she left
with all the anguish of consciousness, whilst he was sunk deep into the other
element of mindless remote living shadowgleam He was beautiful far off and
perfected They would never be together Ah this awful inhuman distance which
would always be interposed between her and the other being
There was nothing to do but to lie still and endure She felt an
overwhelming tenderness for him and a dark understirring of jealous hatred
that he should lie so perfect and immune in another world whilst she was
tormented with violent wakefulness cast out in the outer darkness
She lay in intense and vivid consciousness an exhausting
superconsciousness The church clock struck the hours it seemed to her in
quick succession She heard them distinctly in the tension of her vivid
consciousness. And he slept as if time were one moment unchanging and unmoving
She was exhausted wearied Yet she must continue in this state of violent
active superconsciousness She was conscious of everything her childhood her
girlhood all the forgotten incidents all the unrealised influences and all the
happenings she had not understood pertaining to herself to her family to her
friends her lovers her acquaintances everybody It was as if she drew a
glittering rope of knowledge out of the sea of darkness drew and drew and drew
it out of the fathomless depths of the past and still it did not come to an
end there was no end to it she must haul and haul at the rope of glittering
consciousness pull it out phosphorescent from the endless depths of the
unconsciousness till she was weary aching exhausted and fit to break and
yet she had not done
Ah if only she might wake him She turned uneasily When could she rouse
him and send him away When could she disturb him And she relapsed into her
activity of automatic consciousness that would never end
But the time was drawing near when she could wake him It was like a
release The clock had struck four outside in the night Thank God the night
had passed almost away At five he must go and she would be released Then she
could relax and fill her own place Now she was driven up against his perfect
sleeping motion like a knife whitehot on a grindstone There was something
monstrous about him about his juxtaposition against her
The last hour was the longest And yet at last it passed Her heart leapt
with relief yes there was the slow strong stroke of the church clock at
last after this night of eternity She waited to catch each slow fatal
reverberation »Three four five« There it was finished A weight rolled
off her
She raised herself leaned over him tenderly and kissed him She was sad to
wake him After a few moments she kissed him again But he did not stir The
darling he was so deep in sleep What a shame to take him out of it She let
him lie a little longer But he must go he must really go
With full overtenderness she took his face between her hands and kissed his
eyes The eyes opened he remained motionless looking at her Her heart stood
still To hide her face from his dreadful opened eyes in the darkness she bent
down and kissed him whispering
»You must go my love«
But she was sick with terror sick
He put his arms round her Her heart sank
»But you must go my love Its late«
»What time is it« he said
Strange his mans voice She quivered It was an intolerable oppression to
her
»Past five oclock« she said
But he only closed his arms round her again Her heart cried within her in
torture She disengaged herself firmly
»You really must go« she said
»Not for a minute« he said
She lay still nestling against him but unyielding
»Not for a minute« he repeated clasping her closer
»Yes« she said unyielding »Im afraid if you stay any longer«
There was a certain coldness in her voice that made him release her and she
broke away rose and lit the candle That then was the end
He got up He was warm and full of life and desire Yet he felt a little bit
ashamed humiliated putting on his clothes before her in the candlelight For
he felt revealed exposed to her at a time when she was in some way against
him It was all very difficult to understand He dressed himself quickly
without collar or tie Still he felt full and complete perfected She thought
it humiliating to see a man dressing the ridiculous shirt the ridiculous
trousers and braces But again an idea saved her
»It is like a workman getting up to go to work« thought Gudrun »And I am
like a workmans wife« But an ache like nausea was upon her a nausea of him
He pushed his collar and tie into his overcoat pocket Then he sat down and
pulled on his boots They were sodden as were his socks and trouserbottoms
But he himself was quick and warm
»Perhaps you ought to have put your boots on downstairs« she said
At once without answering he pulled them off again and stood holding them
in his hand She had thrust her feet into slippers and flung a loose robe round
her She was ready She looked at him as he stood waiting his black coat
buttoned to the chin his cap pulled down his boots in his hand And the
passionate almost hateful fascination revived in her for a moment It was not
exhausted His face was so warmlooking wideeyed and full of newness so
perfect She felt old old She went to him heavily to be kissed He kissed her
quickly She wished his warm expressionless beauty did not so fatally put a
spell on her compel her and subjugate her It was a burden upon her that she
resented but could not escape Yet when she looked at his straight mans brows
and at his rather small wellshaped nose and at his blue indifferent eyes
she knew her passion for him was not yet satisfied perhaps never could be
satisfied Only now she was weary with an ache like nausea She wanted him
gone
They went downstairs quickly It seemed they made a prodigious noise He
followed her as wrapped in her vivid green wrap she preceded him with the
light She suffered badly with fear lest her people should be roused He hardly
cared He did not care now who knew And she hated this in him One must be
cautious One must preserve oneself
She led the way to the kitchen It was neat and tidy as the woman had left
it He looked up at the clock twenty minutes past five Then he sat down on a
chair to put on his boots She waited watching his every movement She wanted
it to be over it was a great nervous strain on her
He stood up she unbolted the back door and looked out A cold raw night
not yet dawn with a piece of a moon in the vague sky She was glad she need not
go out
»Goodbye then« he murmured
»Ill come to the gate« she said
And again she hurried on in front to warn him of the steps And at the
gate once more she stood on the step whilst he stood below her
»Goodbye« she whispered
He kissed her dutifully and turned away
She suffered torments hearing his firm tread going so distinctly down the
road Ah the insensitiveness of that firm tread
She closed the gate and crept quickly and noiselessly back to bed When she
was in her room and the door closed and all safe she breathed freely and a
great weight fell off her She nestled down in bed in the groove his body had
made in the warmth he had left And excited worn out yet still satisfied she
fell soon into a deep heavy sleep
Gerald walked quickly through the raw darkness of the coming dawn He met
nobody His mind was beautifully still and thoughtless like a still pool and
his body full and warm and rich He went quickly along towards Shortlands in a
grateful selfsufficiency
Chapter XXV
Marriage or Not
The Brangwen family was going to move from Beldover It was necessary now for
the father to be in town
Birkin had taken out a marriage licence yet Ursula deferred from day to
day She would not fix any definite time she still wavered Her months notice
to leave the Grammar School was in its third week Christmas was not far off
Gerald waited for the UrsulaBirkin marriage It was something crucial to
him
»Shall we make it a doublebarrelled affair« he said to Birkin one day
»Who for the second shot« asked Birkin
»Gudrun and me« said Gerald the venturesome twinkle in his eyes
Birkin looked at him steadily as if somewhat taken aback
»Serious or joking« he asked
»Oh serious Shall I Shall Gudrun and I rush in along with you«
»Do by all means« said Birkin »I didnt know youd got that length«
»What length« said Gerald looking at the other man and laughing
»Oh yes weve gone all the lengths«
»There remains to put it on a broad social basis and to achieve a high
moral purpose« said Birkin
»Something like that the length and breadth and height of it« replied
Gerald smiling
»Oh well« said Birkin »its a very admirable step to take I should say«
Gerald looked at him closely
»Why arent you enthusiastic« he asked »I thought you were such dead nuts
on marriage«
Birkin lifted his shoulders
»One might as well be dead nuts on noses There are all sorts of noses snub
and otherwise «
Gerald laughed
»And all sorts of marriage also snub and otherwise« he said
»Thats it«
»And you think if I marry it will be snub« asked Gerald quizzically his
head a little on one side
Birkin laughed quickly
»How do I know what it will be« he said »Dont lambaste me with my own
parallels «
Gerald pondered a while
»But I should like to know your opinion exactly« he said
»On your marriage or marrying Why should you want my opinion Ive got
no opinions Im not interested in legal marriage one way or another Its a
mere question of convenience«
Still Gerald watched him closely
»More than that I think« he said seriously »However you may be bored by
the ethics of marriage yet really to marry in ones own personal case is
something critical final «
»You mean there is something final in going to the registrar with a woman«
»If youre coming back with her I do« said Gerald »It is in some way
irrevocable«
»Yes I agree« said Birkin
»No matter how one regards legal marriage yet to enter into the married
state in ones own personal instance is final «
»I believe it is« said Birkin »somewhere«
»The question remains then should one do it« said Gerald
Birkin watched him narrowly with amused eyes
»You are like Lord Bacon Gerald« he said »You argue it like a lawyer or
like Hamlets tobeornottobe If I were you I would not marry but ask
Gudrun not me Youre not marrying me are you«
Gerald did not heed the latter part of this speech
»Yes« he said »one must consider it coldly It is something critical One
comes to the point where one must take a step in one direction or another And
marriage is one direction «
»And what is the other« asked Birkin quickly
Gerald looked up at him with hot strangelyconscious eyes that the other
man could not understand
»I cant say« he replied »If I knew that « He moved uneasily on his feet
and did not finish
»You mean if you knew the alternative« asked Birkin »And since you dont
know it marriage is a pis aller«
Gerald looked up at Birkin with the same hot constrained eyes
»One does have the feeling that marriage is a pis aller« he admitted
»Then dont do it« said Birkin »I tell you« he went on »the same as Ive
said before marriage in the old sense seems to me repulsive Egoïsme à deux is
nothing to it Its a sort of tacit hunting in couples the world all in
couples each couple in its own little house watching its own little interests
and stewing in its own little privacy its the most repulsive thing on earth«
»I quite agree« said Gerald »Theres something inferior about it But as I
say whats the alternative«
»One should avoid this home instinct Its not an instinct its a habit of
cowardliness One should never have a home«
»I agree really« said Gerald »But theres no alternative«
»Weve got to find one I do believe in a permanent union between a man and
a woman Chopping about is merely an exhaustive process But a permanent
relation between a man and a woman isnt the last word it certainly isnt«
»Quite« said Gerald
»In fact« said Birkin »because the relation between man and woman is made
the supreme and exclusive relationship thats where all the tightness and
meanness and insufficiency comes in«
»Yes I believe you« said Gerald
»Youve got to take down the loveandmarriage ideal from its pedestal We
want something broader I believe in the additional perfect relationship between
man and man additional to marriage«
»I can never see how they can be the same« said Gerald
»Not the same but equally important equally creative equally sacred if
you like«
»I know« said Gerald »you believe something like that Only I cant feel
it you see« He put his hand on Birkins arm with a sort of deprecating
affection And he smiled as if triumphantly
He was ready to be doomed Marriage was like a doom to him He was willing
to condemn himself in marriage to become like a convict condemned to the mines
of the underworld living no life in the sun but having a dreadful subterranean
activity He was willing to accept this And marriage was the seal of his
condemnation He was willing to be sealed thus in the underworld like a soul
damned but living for ever in damnation But he would not make any pure
relationship with any other soul He could not Marriage was not the committing
of himself into a relationship with Gudrun It was a committing of himself in
acceptance of the established world he would accept the established order in
which he did not livingly believe and then he would retreat to the underworld
for his life This he would do
The other way was to accept Ruperts offer of alliance to enter into the
bond of pure trust and love with the other man and then subsequently with the
woman If he pledged himself with the man he would later be able to pledge
himself with the woman not merely in legal marriage but in absolute mystic
marriage
Yet he could not accept the offer There was a numbness upon him a numbness
either of unborn absent volition or of atrophy Perhaps it was the absence of
volition For he was strangely elated at Ruperts offer Yet he was still more
glad to reject it not to be committed
Chapter XXVI
A Chair
There was a jumble market every Monday afternoon in the old marketplace in
town Ursula and Birkin strayed down there one afternoon They had been talking
of furniture and they wanted to see if there was any fragment they would like
to buy amid the heaps of rubbish collected on the cobblestones
The old marketsquare was not very large a mere bare patch of granite
setts usually with a few fruitstalls under a wall It was in a poor quarter of
the town Meagre houses stood down one side there was a hosiery factory a
great blank with myriad oblong windows at the end a street of little shops with
flagstone pavement down the other side and for a crowning monument the
public baths of new red brick with a clocktower The people who moved about
seemed stumpy and sordid the air seemed to smell rather dirty there was a
sense of many mean streets ramifying off into warrens of meanness Now and again
a great chocolateandyellow tramcar ground round a difficult bend under the
hosiery factory
Ursula was superficially thrilled when she found herself out among the
common people in the jumbled place piled with old bedding heaps of old iron
shabby crockery in pale lots muffled lots of unthinkable clothing She and
Birkin went unwillingly down the narrow aisle between the rusty wares He was
looking at the goods she at the people
She excitedly watched a young woman who was going to have a baby and who
was turning over a mattress and making a young man downatheel and dejected
feel it also So secretive and active and anxious the young woman seemed so
reluctant slinking the young man He was going to marry her because she was
having a child
When they had felt the mattress the young woman asked the old man seated on
a stool among his wares how much it was He told her and she turned to the
young man The latter was ashamed and selfconscious He turned his face away
though he left his body standing there and muttered aside And again the woman
anxiously and actively fingered the mattress and added up in her mind and
bargained with the old unclean man All the while the young man stood by
shamefaced and downatheel submitting
»Look« said Birkin »there is a pretty chair«
»Charming« cried Ursula »Oh charming«
It was an armchair of simple wood probably birch but of such fine
delicacy of grace standing there on the sordid stones it almost brought tears
to the eyes It was square in shape of the purest slender lines and four
short lines of wood in the back that reminded Ursula of harpstrings
»It was once« said Birkin »gilded and it had a cane seat Somebody has
nailed this wooden seat in Look here is a trifle of the red that underlay the
gilt The rest is all black except where the wood is worn pure and glossy It
is the fine unity of the lines that is so attractive Look how they run and
meet and counteract But of course the wooden seat is wrong it destroys the
perfect lightness and unity in tension the cane gave I like it though «
»Ah yes« said Ursula »so do I«
»How much is it« Birkin asked the man
»Ten shillings«
»And you will send it «
It was bought
»So beautiful so pure« Birkin said »It almost breaks my heart« They
walked along between the heaps of rubbish »My beloved country it had
something to express even when it made that chair«
»And hasnt it now« asked Ursula She was always angry when he took this
tone
»No it hasnt When I see that clear beautiful chair and I think of
England even Jane Austens England it had living thoughts to unfold even
then and pure happiness in unfolding them And now we can only fish among the
rubbishheaps for the remnants of their old expression There is no production
in us now only sordid and foul mechanicalness«
»It isnt true« cried Ursula »Why must you always praise the past at the
expense of the present Really I dont think so much of Jane Austens England
It was materialistic enough if you like «
»It could afford to be materialistic« said Birkin »because it had the
power to be something other which we havent We are materialistic because we
havent the power to be anything else try as we may we cant bring off
anything but materialism mechanism the very soul of materialism«
Ursula was subdued into angry silence She did not heed what he said She
was rebelling against something else
»And I hate your past Im sick of it« she cried »I believe I even hate
that old chair though it is beautiful It isnt my sort of beauty I wish it
had been smashed up when its day was over not left to preach the beloved past
to us Im sick of the beloved past«
»Not so sick as I am of the accursed present« he said
»Yes just the same I hate the present but I dont want the past to take
its place I dont want that old chair«
He was rather angry for a moment Then he looked at the sky shining beyond
the tower of the public baths and he seemed to get over it all He laughed
»All right« he said »then let us not have it Im sick of it all too At
any rate one cant go on living on the old bones of beauty«
»One cant« she cried »I dont want old things«
»The truth is we dont want things at all« he replied »The thought of a
house and furniture of my own is hateful to me«
This startled her for a moment Then she replied
»So it is to me But one must live somewhere«
»Not somewhere anywhere« he said »One should just live anywhere not
have a definite place I dont want a definite place As soon as you get a room
and it is complete you want to run from it Now my rooms at the Mill are quite
complete I want them at the bottom of the sea It is a horrible tyranny of a
fixed milieu where each piece of furniture is a commandmentstone«
She clung to his arm as they walked away from the market
»But what are we going to do« she said »We must live somehow And I do
want some beauty in my surroundings I want a sort of natural grandeur even
splendour«
»Youll never get it in houses and furniture or even clothes Houses and
furniture and clothes they are all terms of an old base world a detestable
society of man And if you have a Tudor house and old beautiful furniture it
is only the past perpetuated on top of you horrible And if you have a perfect
modern house done for you by Poiret it is something else perpetuated on top of
you It is all horrible It is all possessions possessions bullying you and
turning you into a generalisation You have to be like Rodin Michael Angelo
and leave a piece of raw rock unfinished to your figure You must leave your
surroundings sketchy unfinished so that you are never contained never
confined never dominated from the outside«
She stood in the street contemplating
»And we are never to have a complete place of our own never a home« she
said
»Pray God in this world no« he answered
»But theres only this world« she objected
He spread out his hands with a gesture of indifference
»Meanwhile then well avoid having things of our own« he said
»But youve just bought a chair« she said
»I can tell the man I dont want it« he replied
She pondered again Then a queer little movement twitched her face
»No« she said »we dont want it Im sick of old things«
»New ones as well« he said
They retraced their steps
There in front of some furniture stood the young couple the woman who
was going to have a baby and the narrowfaced youth She was fair rather short
stout He was of medium height attractively built His dark hair fell sideways
over his brow from under his cap he stood strangely aloof like one of the
damned
»Let us give it to them« whispered Ursula »Look they are getting a home
together«
»I wont aid and abet them in it« he said petulantly instantly
sympathising with the aloof furtive youth against the active procreant
female
»Oh yes« cried Ursula »Its right for them theres nothing else for
them«
»Very well« said Birkin »you offer it to them Ill watch«
Ursula went rather nervously to the young couple who were discussing an iron
washstand or rather the man was glancing furtively and wonderingly like a
prisoner at the abominable article whilst the woman was arguing
»We bought a chair« said Ursula »and we dont want it Would you have it
We should be glad if you would«
The young couple looked round at her not believing that she could be
addressing them
»Would you care for it« repeated Ursula »Its really very pretty but
but « she smiled rather dazzlingly
The young couple only stared at her and looked significantly at each other
to know what to do And the man curiously obliterated himself as if he could
make himself invisible as a rat can
»We wanted to give it to you« explained Ursula now overcome with confusion
and dread of them She was attracted by the young man He was a still mindless
creature hardly a man at all a creature that the towns have produced
strangely purebred and fine in one sense furtive quick subtle His lashes
were dark and long and fine over his eyes that had no mind in them only a
dreadful kind of subject inward consciousness glazed and dark His dark brows
and all his lines were finely drawn He would be a dreadful but wonderful lover
to a woman so marvellously contributed His legs would be marvellously subtle
and alive under the shapeless trousers he had some of the fineness and
stillness and silkiness of a darkeyed silent rat
Ursula had apprehended him with a fine frisson of attraction The fullbuilt
woman was staring offensively Again Ursula forgot him
»Wont you have the chair« she said
The man looked at her with a sideways look of appreciation yet far off
almost insolent The woman drew herself up There was a certain costermonger
richness about her She did not know what Ursula was after she was on her
guard hostile Birkin approached smiling wickedly at seeing Ursula so
nonplussed and frightened
»Whats the matter« he said smiling His eyelids had dropped slightly
there was about him the same suggestive mocking secrecy that was in the bearing
of the two city creatures The man jerked his head a little on one side
indicating Ursula and said with curious amiable jeering warmth
»What she warnt eh« An odd smile writhed his lips
Birkin looked at him from under his slack ironical eyelids
»To give you a chair that with the label on it« he said pointing
The man looked at the object indicated There was a curious hostility in
male outlawed understanding between the two men
»Whats she warnt to give it us for guvnor« he replied in a tone of free
intimacy that insulted Ursula
»Thought youd like it its a pretty chair We bought it and dont want
it No need for you to have it dont be frightened« said Birkin with a wry
smile
The man glanced up at him half inimical half recognising
»Why dont you want it for yourselves if youve just bought it« asked the
woman coolly »Taint good enough for you now youve had a look at it
Frightened its got something in it eh«
She was looking at Ursula admiringly but with some resentment
»Id never thought of that« said Birkin »But no the woods too thin
everywhere«
»You see« said Ursula her face luminous and pleased »We are just going to
get married and we thought wed buy things Then we decided just now that we
wouldnt have furniture wed go abroad«
The fullbuilt slightly blowsy city girl looked at the fine face of the
other woman with appreciation They appreciated each other The youth stood
aside his face expressionless and timeless the thin line of the black
moustache drawn strangely suggestive over his rather wide closed mouth He was
impassive abstract like some dark suggestive presence a gutter presence
»Its all right to be some folks« said the city girl turning to her own
young man He did not look at her but he smiled with the lower part of his
face putting his head aside in an odd gesture of assent His eyes were
unchanging glazed with darkness
»Cawsts something to chynge your mind« he said in an incredibly low accent
»Only ten shillings this time« said Birkin
The man looked up at him with a grimace of a smile furtive unsure
»Cheap at arf a quid guvnor« he said »Not like getting divawced«
»Were not married yet« said Birkin
»No no more arent we« said the young woman loudly »But we shall be a
Saturday«
Again she looked at the young man with a determined protective look at
once overbearing and very gentle He grinned sicklily turning away his head
She had got his manhood but Lord what did he care He had a strange furtive
pride and slinking singleness
»Good luck to you« said Birkin
»Same to you« said the young woman Then rather tentatively »Whens yours
coming off then«
Birkin looked round at Ursula
»Its for the lady to say« he replied »We go to the registrar the moment
shes ready«
Ursula laughed covered with confusion and bewilderment
»No urry« said the young man grinning suggestive
»Oh dont break your neck to get there« said the young woman »Slike when
youre dead youre a long time married«
The young man turned aside as if this hit him
»The longer the better let us hope« said Birkin
»Thats it guvnor« said the young man admiringly »Enjoy it while it
larsts niver whip a dead donkey«
»Only when hes shamming dead« said the young woman looking at her young
man with caressive tenderness of authority
»Aw theres a difference« he said satirically
»What about the chair« said Birkin
»Yes all right« said the woman
They trailed off to the dealer the handsome but abject young fellow hanging
a little aside
»Thats it« said Birkin »Will you take it with you or have the address
altered«
»Oh Fred can carry it Make him do what he can for the dear old ome«
»Mike use of im« said Fred grimly humorous as he took the chair from the
dealer His movements were graceful yet curiously abject slinking
»Eres mothers cosy chair« he said »Warnts a cushion« And he stood it
down on the market stones
»Dont you think its pretty« laughed Ursula
»Oh I do« said the young woman
»Ave a sit in it youll wish youd kept it« said the young man
Ursula promptly sat down in the middle of the marketplace
»Awfully comfortable« she said »But rather hard You try it« She invited
the young man to a seat But he turned uncouthly awkwardly aside glancing up
at her with quick bright eyes oddly suggestive like a quick live rat
»Dont spoil him« said the young woman »Hes not used to armchairs e
isnt«
The young man turned away and said with averted grin
»Only warnts legs on is«
The four parted The young woman thanked them
»Thank you for the chair itll last till it gives way«
»Keep it for an ornyment« said the young man
»Good afternoon good afternoon« said Ursula and Birkin
»Gooluck to you« said the young man glancing and avoiding Birkins eyes
as he turned aside his head
The two couples went asunder Ursula clinging to Birkins arm When they had
gone some distance she glanced back and saw the young man going beside the
full easy young woman His trousers sank over his heels he moved with a sort
of slinking evasion more crushed with odd selfconsciousness now he had the
slim old armchair to carry his arm over the back the four fine square
tapering legs swaying perilously near the granite setts of the pavement And yet
he was somewhere indomitable and separate like a quick vital rat He had a
queer subterranean beauty repulsive too
»How strange they are« said Ursula
»Children of men« he said »They remind me of Jesus The meek shall inherit
the earth«
»But they arent the meek« said Ursula
»Yes I dont know why but they are« he replied
They waited for the tramcar Ursula sat on top and looked out on the town
The dusk was just dimming the hollows of crowded houses
»And are they going to inherit the earth« she said
»Yes they«
»Then what are we going to do« she asked »Were not like them are we
Were not the meek«
»No Weve got to live in the chinks they leave us«
»How horrible« cried Ursula »I dont want to live in chinks«
»Dont worry« he said »They are the children of men they like
marketplaces and street corners best That leaves plenty of chinks«
»All the world« she said
»Ah no but some room«
The tramcar mounted slowly up the hill where the ugly wintergrey masses
of houses looked like a vision of hell that is cold and angular They sat and
looked Away in the distance was an angry redness of sunset It was all cold
somehow small crowded and like the end of the world
»I dont mind it even then« said Ursula looking at the repulsiveness of it
all »It doesnt concern me«
»No more it does« he replied holding her hand »One neednt see One goes
ones way In my world it is sunny and spacious «
»It is my love isnt it« she cried hugging near to him on the top of the
tramcar so that the other passengers stared at them
»And we will wander about on the face of the earth« he said »and well
look at the world beyond just this bit«
There was a long silence Her face was radiant like gold as she sat
thinking
»I dont want to inherit the earth« she said »I dont want to inherit
anything«
He closed his hand over hers
»Neither do I I want to be disinherited«
She clasped his fingers closely
»We wont care about anything« she said
He sat still and laughed
»And well be married and have done with them« she added
Again he laughed
»Its one way of getting rid of everything« she said »to get married«
»And one way of accepting the whole world« he added
»A whole other world yes« she said happily
»Perhaps theres Gerald and Gudrun « he said
»If there is there is you see« she said »Its no good our worrying We
cant really alter them can we«
»No« he said »One has no right to try not with the best intentions in
the world«
»Do you try to force them« she asked
»Perhaps« he said »Why should I want him to be free if it isnt his
business«
She paused for a time
»We cant make him happy anyhow« she said »Hed have to be it of
himself«
»I know« he said »But we want other people with us dont we«
»Why should we« she asked
»I dont know« he said uneasily »One has a hankering after a sort of
further fellowship«
»But why« she insisted »Why should you hanker after other people Why
should you need them«
This hit him right on the quick His brows knitted
»Does it end with just our two selves« he asked tense
»Yes what more do you want If anybody likes to come along let them But
why must you run after them«
His face was tense and unsatisfied
»You see« he said »I always imagine our being really happy with some few
other people a little freedom with people«
She pondered for a moment
»Yes one does want that But it must happen You cant do anything for it
with your will You always seem to think you can force the flowers to come out
People must love us because they love us you cant make them«
»I know« he said »But must one take no steps at all Must one just go as
if one were alone in the world the only creature in the world«
»Youve got me« she said »Why should you need others Why must you force
people to agree with you Why cant you be single by yourself as you are always
saying You try to bully Gerald as you tried to bully Hermione You must learn
to be alone And its so horrid of you Youve got me And yet you want to force
other people to love you as well You do try to bully them to love you And even
then you dont want their love«
His face was full of real perplexity
»Dont I« he said »Its the problem I cant solve I know I want a perfect
and complete relationship with you and weve nearly got it we really have
But beyond that Do I want a real ultimate relationship with Gerald Do I want
a final almost extrahuman relationship with him a relationship in the
ultimate of me and him or dont I«
She looked at him for a long time with strange bright eyes but she did not
answer
Chapter XXVII
Flitting
That evening Ursula returned home very bright eyed and wondrouswhich
irritated her people Her father came home at suppertime tired after the
evening class and the long journey home Gudrun was reading the mother sat in
silence
Suddenly Ursula said to the company at large in a bright voice »Rupert and
I are going to be married tomorrow«
Her father turned round stiffly
»You what« he said
»Tomorrow« echoed Gudrun
»Indeed« said the mother
But Ursula only smiled wonderfully and did not reply
»Married tomorrow« cried her father harshly »What are you talking about«
»Yes« said Ursula »Why not« Those two words from her always drove him
mad »Everything is all right we shall go to the registrars office «
There was a seconds hush in the room after Ursulas blithe vagueness
»Really Ursula« said Gudrun
»Might we ask why there has been all this secrecy« demanded the mother
rather superbly
»But there hasnt« said Ursula »You knew«
»Who knew« now cried the father »Who knew What do you mean by your you
knew«
He was in one of his stupid rages she instantly closed against him
»Of course you knew« she said coolly »You knew we were going to get
married«
There was a dangerous pause
»We knew you were going to get married did we Knew Why does anybody know
anything about you you shifty bitch«
»Father« cried Gudrun flushing deep in violent remonstrance Then in a
cold but gentle voice as if to remind her sister to be tractable »But isnt it
a fearfully sudden decision Ursula« she asked
»No not really« replied Ursula with the same maddening cheerfulness
»Hes been wanting me to agree for weeks hes had the licence ready Only I
I wasnt ready in myself Now I am ready is there anything to be disagreeable
about«
»Certainly not« said Gudrun but in a tone of cold reproof »You are
perfectly free to do as you like«
»Ready in yourself yourself thats all that matters isnt it I wasnt
ready in myself« he mimicked her phrase offensively »You and yourself youre
of some importance arent you«
She drew herself up and set back her throat her eyes shining yellow and
dangerous
»I am to myself« she said wounded and mortified »I know I am not to
anybody else You only wanted to bully me you never cared for my happiness«
He was leaning forward watching her his face intense like a spark
»Ursula what are you saying Keep your tongue still« cried her mother
Ursula swung round and the lights in her eyes flashed
»No I wont« she cried »I wont hold my tongue and be bullied What does
it matter which day I get married what does it matter It doesnt affect
anybody but myself«
Her father was tense and gathered together like a cat about to spring
»Doesnt it« he cried coming nearer to her She shrank away
»No how can it« she replied shrinking but stubborn
»It doesnt matter to me then what you do what becomes of you« he
cried in a strange voice like a cry
The mother and Gudrun stood back as if hypnotised
»No« stammered Ursula Her father was very near to her »You only want to
«
She knew it was dangerous and she stopped He was gathered together every
muscle ready
»What« he challenged
»Bully me« she muttered and even as her lips were moving his hand had
caught her smack at the side of the face and she was sent up against the door
»Father« cried Gudrun in a high voice »it is impossible«
He stood unmoving Ursula recovered her hand was on the doorhandle She
slowly drew herself up He seemed doubtful now
»Its true« she declared with brilliant tears in her eyes her head lifted
up in defiance »What has your love meant what did it ever mean bullying and
denial it did «
He was advancing again with strange tense movements and clenched fist and
the face of a murderer But swift as lightning she had flashed out of the door
and they heard her running upstairs
He stood for a moment looking at the door Then like a defeated animal he
turned and went back to his seat by the fire
Gudrun was very white Out of the intense silence the mothers voice was
heard saying cold and angry
»Well you shouldnt take so much notice of her«
Again the silence fell each followed a separate set of emotions and
thoughts
Suddenly the door opened again Ursula dressed in hat and furs with a
small valise in her hand
»Goodbye« she said in her maddening bright almost mocking tone »Im
going«
And in the next instant the door was closed they heard the outer door then
her quick steps down the garden path then the gate banged and her light
footfall was gone There was a silence like death in the house
Ursula went straight to the station hastening heedlessly on winged feet
There was no train she must walk on to the junction As she went through the
darkness she began to cry and she wept bitterly with a dumb heartbroken
childs anguish all the way on the road and in the train Time passed unheeded
and unknown she did not know where she was nor what was taking place Only she
wept from fathomless depths of hopeless hopeless grief the terrible grief of a
child that knows no extenuation
Yet her voice had the same defensive brightness as she spoke to Birkins
landlady at the door
»Good evening Is Mr Birkin in Can I see him«
»Yes hes in Hes in his study«
Ursula slipped past the woman His door opened He had heard her voice
»Hello« he exclaimed in surprise seeing her standing there with the valise
in her hand and marks of tears on her face She was one who wept without
showing many traces like a child
»Do I look a sight« she said shrinking
»No why Come in« He took the bag from her hand and they went into the
study
There immediately her lips began to tremble like those of a child that
remembers again and the tears came rushing up
»Whats the matter« he asked taking her in his arms She sobbed violently
on his shoulder whilst he held her still waiting
»Whats the matter« he said again when she was quieter But she only
pressed her face farther into his shoulder in pain like a child that cannot
tell
»What is it then« he asked
Suddenly she broke away wiped her eyes regained her composure and went
and sat in a chair
»Father hit me« she announced sitting bunched up rather like a ruffled
bird her eyes very bright
»What for« he said
She looked away and would not answer There was a pitiful redness about her
sensitive nostrils and her quivering lips
»Why« he repeated in his strange soft penetrating voice
She looked round at him rather defiantly
»Because I said I was going to be married tomorrow and he bullied me«
»Why did he bully you«
Her mouth dropped again she remembered the scene once more the tears came
up
»Because I said he didnt care and he doesnt its only his
domineeringness thats hurt « she said her mouth pulled awry by her weeping
all the time she spoke so that he almost smiled it seemed so childish Yet it
was not childish it was a mortal conflict a deep wound
»It isnt quite true« he said »And even so you shouldnt say it«
»It is true it is true« she wept »and I wont be bullied by his
pretending its love when it isnt he doesnt care how can he no he
cant «
He sat in silence She moved him beyond himself
»Then you shouldnt rouse him if he cant« replied Birkin quietly
»And I have loved him I have« she wept »Ive loved him always and hes
always done this to me he has «
»Its been a love of opposition then« he said »Never mind it will be
all right Its nothing desperate«
»Yes« she wept »it is it is«
»Why«
»I shall never see him again «
»Not immediately Dont cry you had to break with him it had to be dont
cry«
He went over to her and kissed her fine fragile hair touching her wet
cheeks gently
»Dont cry« he repeated »dont cry any more«
He held her head close against him very close and quiet
At last she was still Then she looked up her eyes wide and frightened
»Dont you want me« she asked
»Want you« His darkened steady eyes puzzled her and did not give her play
»Do you wish I hadnt come« she asked anxious now again for fear she might
be out of place
»No« he said »I wish there hadnt been the violence so much ugliness
but perhaps it was inevitable«
She watched him in silence He seemed deadened
»But where shall I stay« she asked feeling humiliated
He thought for a moment
»Here with me« he said »Were married as much today as we shall be
tomorrow«
»But «
»Ill tell Mrs Varley« he said »Never mind now«
He sat looking at her She could feel his darkened steady eyes looking at
her all the time It made her a little bit frightened She pushed her hair off
her forehead nervously
»Do I look ugly« she said
And she blew her nose again
A small smile came round his eyes
»No« he said »fortunately«
And he went across to her and gathered her like a belonging in his arms She
was so tenderly beautiful he could not bear to see her he could only bear to
hide her against himself Now washed all clean by her tears she was new and
frail like a flower just unfolded a flower so new so tender so made perfect
by inner light that he could not bear to look at her he must hide her against
himself cover his eyes against her She had the perfect candour of creation
something translucent and simple like a radiant shining flower that moment
unfolded in primal blessedness She was so new so wonderclear so undimmed And
he was so old so steeped in heavy memories Her soul was new undefined and
glimmering with the unseen And his soul was dark and gloomy it had only one
grain of living hope like a grain of mustard seed But this one living grain in
him matched the perfect youth in her
»I love you« he whispered as he kissed her and trembled with pure hope
like a man who is born again to a wonderful lively hope far exceeding the
bounds of death
She could not know how much it meant to him how much he meant by the few
words Almost childish she wanted proof and statement even overstatement
for everything seemed still uncertain unfixed to her
But the passion of gratitude with which he received her into his soul the
extreme unthinkable gladness of knowing himself living and fit to unite with
her he who was so nearly dead who was so near to being gone with the rest of
his race down the slope of mechanical death could never be understood by her
He worshipped her as age worships youth he gloried in her because in his one
grain of faith he was young as she he was her proper mate This marriage with
her was his resurrection and his life
All this she could not know She wanted to be made much of to be adored
There were infinite distances of silence between them How could he tell her of
the immanence of her beauty that was not form or weight or colour but
something like a strange golden light How could he know himself what her
beauty lay in for him He said »Your nose is beautiful your chin is
adorable« But it sounded like lies and she was disappointed hurt Even when
he said whispering with truth »I love you I love you« it was not the real
truth It was something beyond love such a gladness of having surpassed
oneself of having transcended the old existence How could he say I when he was
something new and unknown not himself at all This I this old formula of the
age was a dead letter
In the new superfine bliss a peace superseding knowledge there was no I
and you there was only the third unrealised wonder the wonder of existing not
as oneself but in a consummation of my being and of her being in a new one a
new paradisal unit regained from the duality How can I say »I love you« when I
have ceased to be and you have ceased to be we are both caught up and
transcended into a new oneness where everything is silent because there is
nothing to answer all is perfect and at one Speech travels between the
separate parts But in the perfect One there is perfect silence of bliss
They were married by law on the next day and she did as he bade her she
wrote to her father and mother Her mother replied not her father
She did not go back to school She stayed with Birkin in his rooms or at
the Mill moving with him as he moved But she did not see anybody save Gudrun
and Gerald She was all strange and wondering as yet but relieved as by dawn
Gerald sat talking to her one afternoon in the warm study down at the Mill
Rupert had not yet come home
»You are happy« Gerald asked her with a smile
»Very happy« she cried shrinking a little in her brightness
»Yes one can see it«
»Can one« cried Ursula in surprise
He looked up at her with a communicative smile
»Oh yes plainly«
She was pleased She meditated a moment
»And can you see that Rupert is happy as well«
He lowered his eyelids and looked aside
»Oh yes« he said
»Really«
»Oh yes«
He was very quiet as if it were something not to be talked about by him He
seemed sad
She was very sensitive to suggestion She asked the question he wanted her
to ask
»Why dont you be happy as well« she said »You could be just the same«
He paused a moment
»With Gudrun« he asked
»Yes« she cried her eyes glowing But there was a strange tension an
emphasis as if they were asserting their wishes against the truth
»You think Gudrun would have me and we should be happy« he said
»Yes Im sure« she cried
Her eyes were round with delight Yet underneath she was constrained she
knew her own insistence
»Oh Im so glad« she added
He smiled
»What makes you glad« he said
»For her sake« she replied »Im sure youd youre the right man for
her«
»You are« he said »And do you think she would agree with you«
»Oh yes« she exclaimed hastily Then upon reconsideration very uneasy
»Though Gudrun isnt so very simple is she One doesnt know her in five
minutes does one Shes not like me in that« She laughed at him with her
strange open dazzled face
»You think shes not much like you« Gerald asked
She knitted her brows
»Oh in many ways she is But I never know what she will do when anything
new comes«
»You dont« said Gerald He was silent for some moments Then he moved
tentatively »I was going to ask her in any case to go away with me at
Christmas« he said in a very small cautious voice
»Go away with you For a time you mean«
»As long as she likes« he said with a deprecating movement
They were both silent for some minutes
»Of course« said Ursula at last »she might just be willing to rush into
marriage You can see«
»Yes« smiled Gerald »I can see But in case she wont do you think she
would go abroad with me for a few days or for a fortnight«
»Oh yes« said Ursula »Id ask her«
»Do you think we might all go together«
»All of us« Again Ursulas face lighted up »It would be rather fun dont
you think«
»Great fun« he said
»And then you could see« said Ursula
»What«
»How things went I think it is best to take the honeymoon before the
wedding dont you«
She was pleased with this mot He laughed
»In certain cases« he said »Id rather it were so in my own case«
»Would you« exclaimed Ursula Then doubtingly »Yes perhaps youre right
One should please oneself«
Birkin came in a little later and Ursula told him what had been said
»Gudrun« exclaimed Birkin »Shes a born mistress just as Gerald is a born
lover amant en titre If as somebody says all women are either wives or
mistresses then Gudrun is a mistress«
»And all men either lovers or husbands« cried Ursula »But why not both«
»The one excludes the other« he laughed
»Then I want a lover« cried Ursula
»No you dont« he said
»But I do« she wailed
He kissed her and laughed
It was two days after this that Ursula was to go to fetch her things from
the house in Beldover The removal had taken place the family had gone Gudrun
had rooms in Willey Green
Ursula had not seen her parents since her marriage She wept over the
rupture yet what was the good of making it up Good or not good she could not
go to them So her things had been left behind and she and Gudrun were to walk
over for them in the afternoon
It was a wintry afternoon with red in the sky when they arrived at the
house The windows were dark and blank already the place was frightening A
stark void entrancehall struck a chill to the hearts of the girls
»I dont believe I dare have come in alone« said Ursula »It frightens me«
»Ursula« cried Gudrun »Isnt it amazing Can you believe you lived in this
place and never felt it How I lived here a day without dying of terror I
cannot conceive«
They looked in the big diningroom It was a goodsized room but now a cell
would have been lovelier The large bay windows were naked the floor was
stripped and a border of dark polish went round the tract of pale boarding In
the faded wallpaper were dark patches where furniture had stood where pictures
had hung The sense of walls dry thin flimsyseeming walls and a flimsy
flooring pale with its artificial black edges was neutralising to the mind.
Everything was null to the senses, there was enclosure without substance for
the walls were dry and papery Where were they standing on earth or suspended
in some cardboard box In the hearth was burnt paper and scraps of halfburnt
paper
»Imagine that we passed our days here« said Ursula
»I know« cried Gudrun »It is too appalling What must we be like if we
are the contents of this«
»Vile« said Ursula »It really is«
And she recognised halfburnt covers of Vogue halfburnt representations
of women in gowns lying under the grate
They went to the drawingroom Another piece of shutin air without weight
or substance only a sense of intolerable papery imprisonment in nothingness
The kitchen did look more substantial because of the redtiled floor and the
stove but it was cold and horrid
The two girls tramped hollowly up the bare stairs Every sound reechoed
under their hearts They tramped down the bare corridor Against the wall of
Ursulas bedroom were her things a trunk a workbasket some books loose
coats a hatbox standing desolate in the universal emptiness of the dusk
»A cheerful sight arent they« said Ursula looking down at her forsaken
possessions
»Very cheerful« said Gudrun
The two girls set to carrying everything down to the front door Again and
again they made the hollow reechoing transit The whole place seemed to
resound about them with a noise of hollow empty futility In the distance the
empty invisible rooms sent forth a vibration almost of obscenity They almost
fled with the last articles into the outofdoor
But it was cold They were waiting for Birkin who was coming with the car
They went indoors again and upstairs to their parents front bedroom whose
windows looked down on the road and across the country at the blackbarred
sunset black and red barred without light
They sat down in the windowseat to wait Both girls were looking over the
room It was void with a meaninglessness that was almost dreadful
»Really« said Ursula »this room couldnt be sacred could it«
Gudrun looked over it with slow eyes
»Impossible« she replied
»When I think of their lives fathers and mothers their love and their
marriage and all of us children and our bringingup would you have such a
life Prune«
»I wouldnt Ursula«
»It all seems so nothing their two lives theres no meaning in it
Really if they had not met and not married and not lived together it
wouldnt have mattered would it«
»Of course you cant tell« said Gudrun
»No But if I thought my life was going to be like it Prune« she caught
Gudruns arm »I should run«
Gudrun was silent for a few moments
»As a matter of fact, one cannot contemplate the ordinary life one cannot
contemplate it« replied Gudrun »With you Ursula it is quite different You
will be out of it all with Birkin Hes a special case But with the ordinary
man who has his life fixed in one place marriage is just impossible There may
be and there are thousands of women who want it and could conceive of nothing
else But the very thought of it sends me mad One must be free above all one
must be free One may forfeit everything else but one must be free one must
not become 7 Pinchbeck Street or Somerset Drive or Shortlands No man will
be sufficient to make that good no man To marry one must have a free lance
or nothing a comradeinarms a Glücksritter A man with a position in the
social world well it is just impossible impossible«
»What a lovely word a Glücksritter« said Ursula »So much nicer than a
soldier of fortune«
»Yes isnt it« said Gudrun »Id tilt the world with a Glücksritter But a
home an establishment Ursula what would it mean think«
»I know« said Ursula »Weve had one home thats enough for me«
»Quite enough« said Gudrun
»The little grey home in the west« quoted Ursula ironically
»Doesnt it sound grey too« said Gudrun grimly
They were interrupted by the sound of the car There was Birkin Ursula was
surprised that she felt so lit up that she became suddenly so free from the
problems of grey homes in the west
They heard his heels click on the hall pavement below
»Hello« he called his voice echoing alive through the house Ursula smiled
to herself He was frightened of the place too
»Hello Here we are« she called downstairs And they heard him quickly
running up
»This is a ghostly situation« he said
»These houses dont have ghosts theyve never had any personality and
only a place with personality can have a ghost« said Gudrun
»I suppose so Are you both weeping over the past«
»We are« said Gudrun grimly
Ursula laughed
»Not weeping that its gone but weeping that it ever was« she said
»Oh« he replied relieved
He sat down for a moment There was something in his presence Ursula
thought lambent and alive It made even the impertinent structure of this null
house disappear
»Gudrun says she could not bear to be married and put into a house« said
Ursula meaningful they knew this referred to Gerald
He was silent for some moments
»Well« he said »if you know beforehand you couldnt stand it youre
safe«
»Quite« said Gudrun
»Why does every woman think her aim in life is to have a hubby and a little
grey home in the west Why is this the goal of life Why should it be« said
Ursula
»Il faut avoir le respect de ses bêtises« said Birkin
»But you neednt have the respect for the bêtise before youve committed
it« laughed Ursula
»Ah then des bêtises du papa«
»Et de la maman« added Gudrun satirically
»Et des voisins« said Ursula
They all laughed and rose It was getting dark They carried the things to
the car Gudrun locked the door of the empty house Birkin had lighted the lamps
of the automobile It all seemed very happy as if they were setting out
»Do you mind stopping at Coulsons I have to leave the key there« said
Gudrun
»Right« said Birkin and they moved off
They stopped in the main street The shops were just lighted the last
miners were passing home along the causeways halfvisible shadows in their grey
pitdirt moving through the blue air But their feet rang harshly in manifold
sound along the pavement
How pleased Gudrun was to come out of the shop and enter the car and be
borne swiftly away into the downhill of palpable dusk with Ursula and Birkin
What an adventure life seemed at this moment How deeply how suddenly she
envied Ursula Life for her was so quick and an open door so reckless as if
not only this world but the world that was gone and the world to come were
nothing to her Ah if she could be just like that it would be perfect
For always except in her moments of excitement she felt a want within
herself She was unsure She had felt that now at last in Geralds strong and
violent love she was living fully and finally But when she compared herself
with Ursula already her soul was jealous unsatisfied She was not satisfied
she was never to be satisfied
What was she short of now It was marriage it was the wonderful stability
of marriage She did want it let her say what she might She had been lying
The old idea of marriage was right even now marriage and the home Yet her
mouth gave a little grimace at the words She thought of Gerald and Shortlands
marriage and the home Ah well let it rest He meant a great deal to her but
Perhaps it was not in her to marry She was one of lifes outcasts one of
the drifting lives that have no root No no it could not be so She suddenly
conjured up a rosy room with herself in a beautiful gown and a handsome man in
evening dress who held her in his arms in the firelight and kissed her This
picture she entitled Home It would have done for the Royal Academy
»Come with us to tea do« said Ursula as they ran nearer to the cottage
of Willey Green
»Thanks awfully but I must go in « said Gudrun She wanted very much to
go on with Ursula and Birkin That seemed like life indeed to her Yet a certain
perversity would not let her
»Do come yes it would be so nice« pleaded Ursula
»Im awfully sorry I should love to but I cant really «
She descended from the car in trembling haste
»Cant you really« came Ursulas regretful voice
»No really I cant« responded Gudruns pathetic chagrined words out of
the dusk
»All right are you« called Birkin
»Quite« said Gudrun »Goodnight«
»Goodnight« they called
»Come whenever you like we shall be glad« called Birkin
»Thank you very much« called Gudrun in the strange twanging voice of
lonely chagrin that was very puzzling to him She turned away to her cottage
gate and they drove on But immediately she stood to watch them as the car ran
vague into the distance And as she went up the path to her strange house her
heart was full of incomprehensible bitterness
In her parlour was a longcase clock and inserted into its dial was a
ruddy round slanteyed joyouspainted face that wagged over with the most
ridiculous ogle when the clock ticked and back again with the same absurd
gladeye at the next tick All the time the absurd smooth brownruddy face gave
her an obtrusive gladeye She stood for minutes watching it till a sort of
maddened disgust overcame her and she laughed at herself hollowly And still it
rocked and gave her the gladeye from one side then from the other from one
side then from the other Ah how unhappy she was In the midst of her most
active happiness ah how unhappy she was She glanced at the table Gooseberry
jam and the same homemade cake with too much soda in it Still gooseberry jam
was good and one so rarely got it
All the evening she wanted to go to the Mill But she coldly refused to
allow herself She went the next afternoon instead She was happy to find Ursula
alone It was a lovely intimate secluded atmosphere They talked endlessly and
delightedly »Arent you fearfully happy here« said Gudrun to her sister
glancing at her own bright eyes in the mirror She always envied almost with
resentment the strange positive fullness that subsisted in the atmosphere
around Ursula and Birkin
»How really beautifully this room is done« she said aloud »This hard
plaited matting what a lovely colour it is the colour of cool light«
And it seemed to her perfect
»Ursula« she said at length in a voice of question and detachment »did
you know that Gerald Crich had suggested our going away all together at
Christmas«
»Yes hes spoken to Rupert«
A deep flush dyed Gudruns cheek She was silent a moment as if taken
aback and not knowing what to say
»But dont you think« she said at last »it is amazingly cool«
Ursula laughed
»I like him for it« she said
Gudrun was silent It was evident that whilst she was almost mortified by
Geralds taking the liberty of making such a suggestion to Birkin yet the idea
itself attracted her strongly
»Theres a rather lovely simplicity about Gerald I think« said Ursula »so
defiant somehow Oh I think hes very lovable«
Gudrun did not reply for some moments She had still to get over the feeling
of insult at the liberty taken with her freedom
»What did Rupert say do you know« she asked
»He said it would be most awfully jolly« said Ursula
Again Gudrun looked down and was silent
»Dont you think it would« said Ursula tentatively She was never quite
sure how many defences Gudrun was having round herself
Gudrun raised her face with difficulty and held it averted
»I think it might be awfully jolly as you say« she replied »But dont you
think it was an unpardonable liberty to take to talk of such things to Rupert
who after all you see what I mean Ursula they might have been two men
arranging an outing with some little type theyd picked up Oh I think its
unforgivable quite« She used the French word type
Her eyes flashed her soft face was flushed and sullen Ursula looked on
rather frightened frightened most of all because she thought Gudrun seemed
rather common really like a little type But she had not the courage quite to
think this not right out
»Oh no« she cried stammering »Oh no not at all like that oh no No I
think its rather beautiful the friendship between Rupert and Gerald They just
are simple they say anything to each other like brothers«
Gudrun flushed deeper She could not bear it that Gerald gave her away
even to Birkin
»But do you think even brothers have any right to exchange confidences of
that sort« she asked with deep anger
»Oh yes« said Ursula »Theres never anything said that isnt perfectly
straightforward No the thing thats amazed me most in Gerald how perfectly
simple and direct he can be And you know it takes rather a big man Most of
them must be indirect they are such cowards«
But Gudrun was still silent with anger She wanted the absolute secrecy
kept with regard to her movements
»Wont you go« said Ursula »Do we might all be so happy There is
something I love about Gerald hes much more lovable than I thought him Hes
free Gudrun he really is«
Gudruns mouth was still closed sullen and ugly She opened it at length
»Do you know where he proposes to go« she asked
»Yes to the Tyrol where he used to go when he was in Germany a lovely
place where students go small and rough and lovely for winter sport«
Through Gudruns mind went the angry thought they know everything
»Yes« she said aloud »about forty kilometres from Innsbruck isnt it«
»I dont know exactly where but it would be lovely dont you think high
in the perfect snow «
»Very lovely« said Gudrun sarcastically
Ursula was put out
»Of course« she said »I think Gerald spoke to Rupert so that it shouldnt
seem like an outing with a type «
»I know of course« said Gudrun »that he quite commonly does take up with
that sort«
»Does he« said Ursula »Why how do you know«
»I know of a model in Chelsea« said Gudrun coldly
Now Ursula was silent
»Well« she said at last with a doubtful laugh »I hope he has a good time
with her« At which Gudrun looked more glum
Chapter XXVIII
Gudrun in the Pompadour
Christmas drew near all four prepared for flight Birkin and Ursula were busy
packing their few personal things making them ready to be sent off to whatever
country and whatever place they might choose at last Gudrun was very much
excited She loved to be on the wing
She and Gerald being ready first set off via London and Paris to
Innsbruck where they would meet Ursula and Birkin In London they stayed one
night They went to the musichall and afterwards to the Pompadour Café
Gudrun hated the Café yet she always went back to it as did most of the
artists of her acquaintance She loathed its atmosphere of petty vice and petty
jealousy and petty art Yet she always called in again when she was in town It
was as if she had to return to this small slow central whirlpool of
disintegration and dissolution just give it a look
She sat with Gerald drinking some sweetish liqueur and staring with black
sullen looks at the various groups of people at the tables She would greet
nobody but young men nodded to her frequently with a kind of sneering
familiarity She cut them all And it gave her pleasure to sit there cheeks
flushed eyes black and sullen seeing them all objectively as put away from
her like creatures in some menagerie of apish degraded souls God what a foul
crew they were Her blood beat black and thick in her veins with rage and
loathing Yet she must sit and watch watch One or two people came to speak to
her From every side of the Café eyes turned half furtively half jeeringly at
her men looking over their shoulders women under their hats
The old crowd was there Carlyon in his corner with his pupils and his girl
Halliday and Libidnikov and the Pussum they were all there Gudrun watched
Gerald She watched his eyes linger a moment on Halliday on Hallidays party
These last were on the lookout they nodded to him he nodded again They
giggled and whispered among themselves Gerald watched them with the steady
twinkle in his eyes They were urging Minette to something
She at last rose She was wearing a curious dress of dark silk with long
pale rays a curious rayed effect She was thinner her eyes were perhaps wider
more disintegrated Otherwise she was just the same Gerald watched her with the
same steady twinkle in his eyes as she came across She held out her thin fair
hand to him
»How are you« she said
He shook hands with her but remained seated and let her stand near him
against the table She nodded coldly to Gudrun whom she did not know to speak
to but well enough by sight and reputation
»I am very well« said Gerald »And you«
»Oh Im all wight What about Wupert«
»Rupert Hes very well too«
»Yes I dont mean that What about him being married«
»Oh yes he is married«
Minettes eyes had a hot flash
»Oh hes weally bwought it off then has he When was he married«
»A week or two ago«
»Weally Hes never written«
»No«
»No Dont you think its too bad«
This last was in a tone of challenge Minette let it be known by her tone
that she was aware of Gudruns listening
»I suppose he didnt feel like it« replied Gerald
»But why didnt he« pursued Minette
This was received in silence There was an ugly mocking persistence in the
small beautiful figure of the shorthaired girl as she stood near Gerald
»Are you staying in town long« she asked
»Tonight only«
»Oh only tonight Are you coming over to speak to Julius«
»Not tonight«
»Oh very well Ill tell him then« Then came her touch of diablerie
»Youre looking awflly fit«
»Yes I feel it« Gerald was quite calm and easy a spark of satiric
amusement in his eye
»Are you having a good time«
This was a direct blow for Gudrun spoken in a level toneless voice of
callous ease
»Yes« he replied quite colourlessly
»Im awflly sorry you arent coming round You arent very faithful to your
fwiends«
»Not very« he said
She nodded them both Goodnight and went back slowly to her own set Gudrun
watched her curious walk stiff and jerking at the loins They heard her level
toneless voice distinctly
»He wont come over he is otherwise engaged« it said There was more
laughter and lowered voices and mockery at the table
»Is she a friend of yours« said Gudrun looking calmly at Gerald
»Ive stayed at Hallidays with Birkin« he said meeting her slow calm
eyes And she knew that Minette was one of his mistresses and he knew she
knew
She looked round and called for the waiter She wanted an iced cocktail of
all things This amused Gerald he wondered what was up
The Halliday party was tipsy and malicious They were talking out loudly
about Birkin ridiculing him on every point particularly on his marriage
»Oh dont make me think of Birkin« Halliday was squealing »He makes me
perfectly sick He is as bad as Jesus Lord what must I do to be saved«
He giggled to himself tipsily
»Do you remember« came the quick voice of the Russian »the letters he used
to send Desire is holy «
»Oh yes« cried Halliday »Oh how perfectly splendid Why Ive got one in
my pocket Im sure I have«
He took out various papers from his pocket book
»Im sure Ive hic Oh dear got one«
Gerald and Gudrun were watching absorbedly
»Oh yes how perfectly hic splendid Dont make me laugh Minette it
gives me the hiccup Hic « They all giggled
»What did he say in that one« Minette asked leaning forward her close
fair hair falling and swinging against her face There was something curiously
indecent about her small longish fair skull particularly when the ears
showed
»Wait oh do wait Noo I wont give it to you Ill read it aloud Ill
read you the choice bits hic Oh dear Do you think if I drink water it would
take off this hiccup Hic Oh I feel perfectly helpless«
»Isnt that the letter about uniting the dark and the light and the Flux
of Corruption« asked Maxim in his precise quick voice
»I believe so« said Minette
»Oh is it Id forgotten hic it was that one« Halliday said opening
the letter »Hic Oh yes How perfectly splendid This is one of the best There
is a phrase in every race « he read in the singsong slow distinct voice of a
clergyman reading the Scriptures »when the desire for destruction overcomes
every other desire In the individual, this desire is ultimately a desire for
destruction in the self hic « he paused and looked up
»I hope hes going ahead with the destruction of himself« said the quick
voice of the Russian Halliday giggled and lolled his head back vaguely
»Theres not much to destroy in him« said Minette »Hes so thin already
theres only a fagend to start on«
»Oh isnt it beautiful I love reading it I believe it has cured my
hiccup« squealed Halliday »Do let me go on It is a desire for the
reductionprocess in oneself a reducing back to the origin a return along the
Flux of Corruption to the original rudimentary conditions of being Oh but I
do think it is wonderful It almost supersedes the Bible «
»Yes Flux of Corruption« said the Russian »I remember that phrase«
»Oh he was always talking about Corruption« said Minette »He must be
corrupt himself to have it so much on his mind«
»Exactly« said the Russian
»Do let me go on Oh this is a perfectly wonderful piece But do listen to
this And in the great retrogression the reducing back of the created body of
life we get knowledge and beyond knowledge the phosphorescent ecstasy of
acute sensation Oh I do think these phrases are too absurdly wonderful Oh
but dont you think they are theyre nearly as good as Jesus And if Julius
you want this ecstasy of reduction with Minette you must go on till it is
fulfilled But surely there is in you also somewhere the living desire for
positive creation relationships in ultimate faith when all this process of
active corruption with all its flowers of mud is transcended and more or less
finished I do wonder what the flowers of mud are Minette you are a flower of
mud«
»Thank you and what are you«
»Oh Im another surely according to this letter Were all flowers of mud
Fleurs hic du mal Its perfectly wonderful Birkin harrowing Hell
harrowing the Pompadour Hic«
»Go on go on« said Maxim »What comes next Its really very
interesting«
»I think its awful cheek to write like that« said Minette
»Yes yes so do I« said the Russian »He is a megalomaniac of course it
is a form of religious mania He thinks he is the Saviour of man go on
reading«
»Surely« Halliday intoned »surely goodness and mercy hath followed me all
the days of my life « he broke off and giggled Then he began again intoning
like a clergyman »Surely there will come an end in us to this desire for the
constant going apart this passion for putting asunder everything
ourselves reducing ourselves part from part reacting in intimacy only for
destruction using sex as a great reducing agent reducing the two great
elements of male and female from their highly complex unity reducing the old
ideas going back to the savages for our sensations always seeking to lose
ourselves in some ultimate black sensation mindless and infinite burning only
with destructive fires ranging on with the hope of being burnt out utterly «
»I want to go« said Gudrun to Gerald as she signalled the waiter Her eyes
were flashing her cheeks were flushed The strange effect of Birkins letter
read aloud in a perfect clerical singsong clear and resonant phrase by
phrase made the blood mount into her head as if she were mad
She rose whilst Gerald was paying the bill and walked over to Hallidays
table They all glanced up at her
»Excuse me« she said »Is that a genuine letter you are reading«
»Oh yes« said Halliday »Quite genuine«
»May I see«
Smiling foolishly he handed it to her as if hypnotised
»Thank you« she said
And she turned and walked out of the Café with the letter all down the
brilliant room between the tables in her measured fashion It was some moments
before anybody realised what was happening
From Hallidays table came half articulate cries then somebody booed then
all the far end of the place began booing after Gudruns retreating form She
was fashionably dressed in blackishgreen and silver her hat was brilliant
green like the sheen on an insect but the brim was soft dark green a falling
edge with fine silver her coat was dark green lustrous with a high collar of
grey fur and great fur cuffs the edge of her dress showed silver and black
velvet her stockings and shoes were silver grey She moved with slow
fashionable indifference to the door The porter opened obsequiously for her
and at her nod hurried to the edge of the pavement and whistled for a taxi The
two lights of a vehicle almost immediately curved round towards her like two
eyes
Gerald had followed in wonder amid all the booing not having caught her
misdeed He heard Minettes voice saying
»Go and get it back from her I never heard of such a thing Go and get it
back from her Tell Gerald Crich there he goes go and make him give it up«
Gudrun stood at the door of the taxi which the man held open for her
»To the hotel« she asked as Gerald came out hurriedly
»Where you like« he answered
»Right« she said Then to the driver »Wagstaffs Barton Street«
The driver bowed his head and put down the flag
Gudrun entered the taxi with the deliberate cold movement of a woman who is
welldressed and contemptuous in her soul Yet she was frozen with overwrought
feelings Gerald followed her
»Youve forgotten the man« she said coolly with a slight nod of her hat
Gerald gave the porter a shilling The man saluted They were in motion
»What was all the row about« asked Gerald in wondering excitement
»I walked away with Birkins letter« she said and he saw the crushed paper
in her hand
His eyes glittered with satisfaction
»Ah« he said »Splendid A set of jackasses«
»I could have killed them« she cried in passion »Dogs they are dogs
Why is Rupert such a fool as to write such letters to them Why does he give
himself away to such canaille Its a thing that cannot be borne«
Gerald wondered over her strange passion
And she could not rest any longer in London They must go by the morning
train from Charing Cross As they drew over the bridge in the train having
glimpses of the river between the great iron girders she cried
»I feel I could never see this foul town again I couldnt bear to come
back to it«
Chapter XXIX
Continental
Ursula went on in an unreal suspense the last weeks before going away She was
not herself she was not anything She was something that is going to be soon
soon very soon But as yet she was only imminent
She went to see her parents It was a rather stiff sad meeting more like a
verification of separateness than a reunion But they were all vague and
indefinite with one another, stiffened in the fate that moved them apart
She did not really come to until she was on the ship crossing from Dover to
Ostend Dimly she had come down to London with Birkin London had been a
vagueness so had the train journey to Dover It was all like a sleep
And now at last as she stood in the stern of the ship in a pitchdark
rather blowy night feeling the motion of the sea and watching the small
rather desolate little lights that twinkled on the shores of England as on the
shores of nowhere watched them sinking smaller and smaller on the profound and
living darkness she felt her soul stirring to awake from its anæsthetic sleep
»Let us go forward shall we« said Birkin He wanted to be at the tip of
their projection So they left off looking at the faint sparks that glimmered
out of nowhere in the far distance called England and turned their faces to
the unfathomed night in front
They went right to the bows of the softly plunging vessel In the complete
obscurity Birkin found a comparatively sheltered nook where a great rope was
coiled up It was quite near the very point of the ship near the black
unpierced space ahead Here they sat down folded together folded round with
the same rug creeping in nearer and ever nearer to one another, till it seemed
they had crept right into each other and become one substance It was very
cold and the darkness was palpable
One of the ships crew came along the deck dark as the darkness not really
visible They then made out the faintest pallor of his face He felt their
presence and stopped unsure then bent forward When his face was near them
he saw the faint pallor of their faces Then he withdrew like a phantom And
they watched him without making any sound
They seemed to fall away into the profound darkness There was no sky no
earth only one unbroken darkness into which with a soft sleeping motion
they seemed to fall like one closed seed of life falling through dark
fathomless space
They had forgotten where they were forgotten all that was and all that had
been conscious only in their heart and there conscious only of this pure
trajectory through the surpassing darkness The ships prow cleaved on with a
faint noise of cleavage into the complete night without knowing without
seeing only surging on
In Ursula the sense of the unrealised world ahead triumphed over everything
In the midst of this profound darkness there seemed to glow on her heart the
effulgence of a paradise unknown and unrealised Her heart was full of the most
wonderful light golden like honey of darkness sweet like the warmth of day a
light which was not shed on the world only on the unknown paradise towards
which she was going a sweetness of habitation a delight of living quite
unknown but hers infallibly In her transport she lifted her face suddenly to
him and he touched it with his lips So cold so fresh so seaclear her face
was it was like kissing a flower that grows near the surf
But he did not know the ecstasy of bliss in foreknowledge that she knew To
him the wonder of this transit was overwhelming He was falling through a gulf
of infinite darkness like a meteorite plunging across the chasm between the
worlds The world was torn in two and he was plunging like an unlit star
through the ineffable rift What was beyond was not yet for him He was overcome
by the trajectory
In a trance he lay enfolding Ursula round about His face was against her
fine fragile hair he breathed its fragrance with the sea and the profound
night And his soul was at peace yielded as he fell into the unknown This was
the first time that an utter and absolute peace had entered his heart now in
this final transit out of life
When there came some stir on the deck they roused They stood up How stiff
and cramped they were in the nighttime And yet the paradisal glow on her
heart and the unutterable peace of darkness in his this was the allinall
They stood up and looked ahead Low lights were seen down the darkness This
was the world again It was not the bliss of her heart nor the peace of his It
was the superficial unreal world of fact. Yet not quite the old world For the
peace and the bliss in their hearts was enduring
Strange and desolate above all things like disembarking from the Styx into
the desolated underworld was this landing at night There was the raw
halflighted coveredin vastness of the dark place boarded and hollow
underfoot with only desolation everywhere Ursula had caught sight of the big
pallid mystic letters OSTEND standing in the darkness Everybody was hurrying
with a blind insectlike intentness through the dark grey air porters were
calling in unEnglish English then trotting with heavy bags their colourless
blouses looking ghostly as they disappeared Ursula stood at a long low
zinccovered barrier along with hundreds of other spectral people and all the
way down the vast raw darkness was this low stretch of open bags and spectral
people whilst on the other side of the barrier pallid officials in peaked
caps and moustaches were turning the underclothing in the bags then scrawling a
chalkmark
It was done Birkin snapped the handbags off they went the porter coming
behind They were through a great doorway and in the open night again ah a
railway platform Voices were still calling in inhuman agitation through the
darkgrey air spectres were running along the darkness between the train
Köln Berlin Ursula made out on the boards hung on the high train on one
side
»Here we are« said Birkin And on her side she saw »Elsass Lothringen
Luxembourg Metz Basle«
»That was it Basle«
The porter came up
»A Bâle deuxième classe Voilà« And he clambered into the high train
They followed The compartments were already some of them taken But many were
dim and empty The luggage was stowed the porter was tipped
»Nous avons encore « said Birkin looking at his watch and at the porter
»Encore une demiheure« With which in his blue blouse he disappeared He
was ugly and insolent
»Come« said Birkin »It is cold Let us eat«
There was a coffeewagon on the platform They drank hot watery coffee and
ate the long rolls split with ham between which were such a wide bite that it
almost dislocated Ursulas jaw and they walked beside the high trains It was
all so strange so extremely desolate like the underworld grey grey dirt
grey desolate forlorn nowhere grey dreary nowhere
At last they were moving through the night In the darkness Ursula made out
the flat fields the wet flat dreary darkness of the Continent They pulled up
surprisingly soon Bruges Then on through the level darkness with glimpses of
sleeping farms and thin poplar trees and deserted highroads She sat dismayed
hand in hand with Birkin He pale immobile like a revenant himself looked
sometimes out of the window sometimes closed his eyes Then his eyes opened
again dark as the darkness outside
A flash of a few lights on the darkness Ghent station A few more spectres
moving outside on the platform then the bell then motion again through the
level darkness Ursula saw a man with a lantern come out of a farm by the
railway and cross to the dark farmbuildings She thought of the Marsh the old
intimate farm life at Cossethay My God how far was she projected from her
childhood how far was she still to go In one lifetime one travelled through
æons The great chasm of memory from her childhood in the intimate country
surroundings of Cossethay and the Marsh Farm she remembered the servant Tilly
who used to give her bread and butter sprinkled with brown sugar in the old
livingroom where the grandfather clock had two pink roses in a basket painted
above the figures on the face and now when she was travelling into the unknown
with Birkin an utter stranger was so great that it seemed she had no
identity that the child she had been playing in Cossethay churchyard was a
little creature of history not really herself
They were at Brussels half an hour for breakfast They got down On the
great station clock it said six oclock They had coffee and rolls and honey in
the vast desert refreshmentroom so dreary always so dreary dirty so
spacious such desolation of space. But she washed her face and hands in hot
water and combed her hair that was a blessing
Soon they were in the train again and moving on The greyness of dawn began
There were several people in the compartment large florid Belgian businessmen
with long brown beards talking incessantly in an ugly French she was too tired
to follow
It seemed the train ran by degrees out of the darkness into a faint light
then beat after beat into the day Ah how weary it was Faintly the trees
showed like shadows Then a house white had a curious distinctness How was
it Then she saw a village there were always houses passing
This was an old world she was still journeying through winterheavy and
dreary There was ploughland and pasture and copses of bare trees copses of
bushes and homesteads naked and workbare No new earth had come to pass
She looked at Birkins face It was white and still and eternal too
eternal She linked her fingers imploringly in his under the cover of her rug
His fingers responded his eyes looked back at her How dark like a night his
eyes were like another world beyond Oh if he were the world as well if only
the world were he If only he could call a world into being that should be
their own world
The Belgians left the train ran on through Luxembourg through
AlsaceLorraine through Metz But she was blind she could see no more Her
soul did not look out
They came at last to Basle to the hotel It was all a drifting trance from
which she never came to They went out in the morning before the train departed
She saw the street the river she stood on the bridge But it all meant
nothing She remembered some shops one full of pictures one with orange
velvet and ermine But what did these signify nothing
She was not at ease till they were in the train again Then she was
relieved So long as they were moving onwards she was satisfied They came to
Zürich then before very long ran under the mountains that were deep in snow
At last she was drawing near This was the other world now
Innsbruck was wonderful deep in snow and evening They drove in an open
sledge over the snow the train had been so hot and stifling And the hotel
with the golden light glowing under the porch seemed like a home
They laughed with pleasure when they were in the hall The place seemed full
and busy
»Do you know if Mr and Mrs Crich English from Paris have arrived«
Birkin asked in German
The porter reflected a moment and was just going to answer when Ursula
caught sight of Gudrun sauntering down the stairs wearing her dark glossy coat
with grey fur
»Gudrun Gudrun« she called waving up the well of the staircase »Shuhu«
Gudrun looked over the rail and immediately lost her sauntering diffident
air Her eyes flashed
»Really Ursula« she cried And she began to move downstairs as Ursula ran
up They met at a turn and kissed with laughter and exclamations inarticulate
and stirring
»But« cried Gudrun mortified »We thought it was tomorrow you were
coming I wanted to come to the station«
»No weve come today« cried Ursula »Isnt it lovely here«
»Adorable« said Gudrun »Geralds just gone out to get something Ursula
arent you fearfully tired«
»No not so very But I look a filthy sight dont I«
»No you dont You look almost perfectly fresh I like that fur cap
immensely« She glanced over Ursula who wore a big soft coat with a collar of
deep soft blond fur and a soft blond cap of fur
»And you« cried Ursula »What do you think you look like«
Gudrun assumed an unconcerned expressionless face
»Do you like it« she said
»Its very fine« cried Ursula perhaps with a touch of satire
»Go up or come down« said Birkin For there the sisters stood Gudrun
with her hand on Ursulas arm on the turn of the stairs halfway to the first
landing blocking the way and affording full entertainment to the whole of the
hall below from the door porter to the plump Jew in black clothes
The two young women slowly mounted followed by Birkin and the waiter
»First floor« asked Gudrun looking back over her shoulder
»Second Madam the lift« the waiter replied And he darted to the
elevator to forestall the two women But they ignored him as chattering
without heed they set to mount the second flight Rather chagrined the waiter
followed
It was curious the delight of the sisters in each other at this meeting
It was as if they met in exile and united their solitary forces against all the
world Birkin looked on with some mistrust and wonder
When they had bathed and changed Gerald came in He looked shining like the
sun on frost
»Go with Gerald and smoke« said Ursula to Birkin »Gudrun and I want to
talk«
Then the sisters sat in Gudruns bedroom and talked clothes and experiences
Gudrun told Ursula the experience of the Birkin letter in the café Ursula was
shocked and frightened
»Where is the letter« she asked
»I kept it« said Gudrun
»Youll give it me wont you« she said
But Gudrun was silent for some moments before she replied
»Do you really want it Ursula«
»I want to read it« said Ursula
»Certainly« said Gudrun
Even now she could not admit to Ursula that she wanted to keep it as a
memento or a symbol But Ursula knew and was not pleased So the subject was
switched off
»What did you do in Paris« asked Ursula
»Oh« said Gudrun laconically »the usual things We had a fine party one
night in Fanny Baths studio«
»Did you And you and Gerald were there Who else Tell me about it«
»Well« said Gudrun »Theres nothing particular to tell You know Fanny is
frightfully in love with that painter Billy Macfarlane He was there so Fanny
spared nothing she spent very freely It was really remarkable Of course
everybody got fearfully drunk but in an interesting way not like that filthy
London crowd The fact is these were all people that matter which makes all the
difference There was a Roumanian a fine chap He got completely drunk and
climbed to the top of a high studio ladder and gave the most marvellous address
really Ursula it was wonderful He began in French La vie cest une
affaire dâmes impériales in a most beautiful voice he was a finelooking
chap but he had got into Roumanian before he had finished and not a soul
understood But Donald Gilchrist was worked to a frenzy He dashed his glass to
the ground and declared by God he was glad he had been born by God it was a
miracle to be alive And do you know Ursula so it was « Gudrun laughed rather
hollowly
»But how was Gerald among them all« asked Ursula
»Gerald Oh my word he came out like a dandelion in the sun Hes a whole
saturnalia in himself once he is roused I shouldnt like to say whose waist
his arm did not go round Really Ursula he seems to reap the women like a
harvest There wasnt one that would have resisted him It was too amazing Can
you understand it«
Ursula reflected and a dancing light came into her eyes
»Yes« she said »I can He is such a wholehogger«
»Wholehogger I should think so« exclaimed Gudrun »But it is true
Ursula every woman in the room was ready to surrender to him Chanticleer isnt
in it even Fanny Bath who is genuinely in love with Billy Macfarlane I never
was more amazed in my life And you know afterwards I felt I was a whole
roomful of women I was no more myself to him than I was Queen Victoria I was a
whole roomful of women at once It was most astounding But my eye Id caught a
Sultan that time «
Gudruns eyes were flashing her cheek was hot she looked strange exotic
satiric Ursula was fascinated at once and yet uneasy
They had to get ready for dinner Gudrun came down in a daring gown of vivid
green silk and tissue of gold with green velvet bodice and a strange
blackandwhite band round her hair She was really brilliantly beautiful and
everybody noticed her Gerald was in that fullblooded gleaming state when he
was most handsome Birkin watched them with quick laughing halfsinister eyes
Ursula quite lost her head There seemed a spell almost a blinding spell cast
round their table as if they were lighted up more strongly than the rest of the
diningroom
»Dont you love to be in this place« cried Gudrun »Isnt the snow
wonderful Do you notice how it exalts everything It is simply marvellous One
really does feel übermenschlich more than human«
»One does« cried Ursula »But isnt that partly the being out of England«
»Oh of course« cried Gudrun »One could never feel like this in England
for the simple reason that the damper is never lifted off one there It is
quite impossible really to let go in England of that I am assured«
And she turned again to the food she was eating She was fluttering with
vivid intensity
»Its quite true« said Gerald »it never is quite the same in England But
perhaps we dont want it to be perhaps its like bringing the light a little
too near the powdermagazine to let go altogether in England One is afraid
what might happen if everybody else let go«
»My God« cried Gudrun »But wouldnt it be wonderful if all England did
suddenly go off like a display of fireworks«
»It couldnt« said Ursula »They are all too damp the powder is damp in
them«
»Im not so sure of that« said Gerald
»Nor I« said Birkin »When the English really begin to go off en masse
itll be time to shut your ears and run«
»They never will« said Ursula
»Well see« he replied
»Isnt it marvellous« said Gudrun »how thankful one can be to be out of
ones country I cannot believe myself I am so transported the moment I set
foot on a foreign shore I say to myself Here steps a new creature into life«
»Dont be too hard on poor old England« said Gerald »Though we curse it
we love it really«
To Ursula there seemed a fund of cynicism in these words
»We may« said Birkin »But its a damnably uncomfortable love like a love
for an aged parent who suffers horribly from a complication of diseases for
which there is no hope«
Gudrun looked at him with dilated dark eyes
»You think there is no hope« she asked in her pertinent fashion
But Birkin backed away He would not answer such a question
»Any hope of Englands becoming real God knows Its a great actual
unreality now an aggregation into unreality It might be real if there were no
Englishmen«
»You think the English will have to disappear« persisted Gudrun It was
strange her pointed interest in his answer It might have been her own fate she
was inquiring after Her dark dilated eyes rested on Birkin as if she could
conjure the truth of the future out of him as out of some instrument of
divination
He was pale Then reluctantly he answered
»Well what else is in front of them but disappearance Theyve got to
disappear from their own special brand of Englishness anyhow«
Gudrun watched him as if in a hypnotic state her eyes wide and fixed on
him
»But in what way do you mean disappear « she persisted
»Yes do you mean a change of heart« put in Gerald
»I dont mean anything why should I« said Birkin »Im an Englishman and
Ive paid the price of it I cant talk about England I can only speak for
myself«
»Yes« said Gudrun slowly »you love England immensely immensely Rupert«
»And leave her« he replied
»No not for good Youll come back« said Gerald nodding sagely
»They say the lice crawl off a dying body« said Birkin with a glare of
bitterness »So I leave England«
»Ah but youll come back« said Gudrun with a sardonic smile
»Tant pis pour moi« he replied
»Isnt he angry with his mother country« laughed Gerald amused
»Ah a patriot« said Gudrun with something like a sneer
Birkin refused to answer any more
Gudrun watched him still for a few seconds Then she turned away It was
finished her spell of divination in him She felt already purely cynical She
looked at Gerald He was wonderful like a piece of radium to her She felt she
could consume herself and know all by means of this fatal living metal She
smiled to herself at her fancy And what would she do with herself when she had
destroyed herself For if spirit if integral being is destructible Matter is
indestructible
He was looking bright and abstracted puzzled for the moment She stretched
out her beautiful arm with its fluff of green tulle and touched his chin with
her subtle artists fingers
»What are they then« she asked with a strange knowing smile
»What« he replied his eyes suddenly dilating with wonder
»Your thoughts«
Gerald looked like a man coming awake
»I think I had none« he said
»Really« she said with grave laughter in her voice
And to Birkin it was as if she killed Gerald with that touch
»Ah but« cried Gudrun »let us drink to Britannia let us drink to
Britannia«
It seemed there was wild despair in her voice Gerald laughed and filled the
glasses
»I think Rupert means« he said »that nationally all Englishmen must die
so that they can exist individually and «
»Supernationally « put in Gudrun with a slight ironic grimace raising
her glass
The next day they descended at the tiny railway station of Hohenhausen at
the end of the tiny valley railway It was snow everywhere a white perfect
cradle of snow new and frozen sweeping up on either side black crags and
white sweeps of silver towards the blue pale heavens
As they stepped out on the naked platform with only snow around and above
Gudrun shrank as if it chilled her heart
»My God Jerry« she said turning to Gerald with sudden intimacy »youve
done it now«
»What«
She made a faint gesture indicating the world on either hand
»Look at it«
She seemed afraid to go on He laughed
They were in the heart of the mountains From high above on either side
swept down the white fold of snow so that one seemed small and tiny in a valley
of pure concrete heaven all strangely radiant and changeless and silent
»It makes one feel so small and alone« said Ursula turning to Birkin and
laying her hand on his arm
»Youre not sorry youve come are you« said Gerald to Gudrun
She looked doubtful They went out of the station between banks of snow
»Ah« said Gerald sniffing the air in elation »this is perfect Theres
our sledge Well walk a bit well run up the road«
Gudrun always doubtful dropped her heavy coat on the sledge as he did
his and they set off Suddenly she threw up her head and set off scudding along
the road of snow pulling her cap down over her ears Her blue bright dress
fluttered in the wind her thick scarlet stockings were brilliant above the
whiteness Gerald watched her she seemed to be rushing towards her fate and
leaving him behind He let her get some distance then loosening his limbs he
went after her
Everywhere was deep and silent snow Great snoweaves weighed down the
broadroofed Tyrolese houses that were sunk to the windowsashes in snow
Peasant women fullskirted wearing each a crossover shawl and thick
snowboots turned in the way to look at the soft determined girl running with
such heavy fleetness from the man who was overtaking her but not gaining any
power over her
They passed the inn with its painted shutters and balcony a few cottages
half buried in the snow then the snowburied silent sawmill by the roofed
bridge which crossed the hidden stream over which they ran into the very depth
of the untouched sheets of snow It was a silence and a sheer whiteness
exhilarating to madness But the perfect silence was most terrifying isolating
the soul surrounding the heart with frozen air
»Its a marvellous place for all that« said Gudrun looking into his eyes
with a strange meaning look His soul leapt
»Good« he said
A fierce electric energy seemed to flow over all his limbs his muscles were
surcharged his hands felt hard with strength They walked along rapidly up the
snowroad that was marked by withered branches of trees stuck in at intervals
He and she were separate like opposite poles of one fierce energy But they
felt powerful enough to leap over the confines of life into the forbidden places
and back again
Birkin and Ursula were running along also over the snow He had disposed of
the luggage and they had a little start of the sledges Ursula was excited and
happy but she kept turning suddenly to catch hold of Birkins arm to make sure
of him
»This is something I never expected« she said »It is a different world
here«
They went on into a snow meadow There they were overtaken by the sledge
that came tinkling through the silence It was another mile before they came
upon Gudrun and Gerald on the steep upclimb beside the pink halfburied
shrine
Then they passed into a gulley where were walls of black rock and a river
filled with snow and a still blue sky above Through a covered bridge they
went drumming roughly over the boards crossing the snowbed once more then
slowly up and up the horses walking swiftly the driver cracking his long whip
as he walked beside and calling his strange wild huehue the walls of rock
passing slowly by till they emerged again between slopes and masses of snow Up
and up gradually they went through the cold shadowradiance of the afternoon
silenced by the imminence of the mountains the luminous dazing sides of snow
that rose above them and fell away beneath
They came forth at last in a little high tableland of snow where stood the
last peaks of snow like the heart petals of an open rose In the midst of the
last deserted valleys of heaven stood a lonely building with brown wooden walls
and white heavy roof deep and deserted in the waste of snow like a dream It
stood like a rock that had rolled down from the last steep slopes a rock that
had taken the form of a house and was now half buried It was unbelievable that
one could live there uncrushed by all this terrible waste of whiteness and
silence and clear upper ringing cold
Yet the sledges ran up in fine style people came to the door laughing and
excited the floor of the hostel rang hollow the passage was wet with snow it
was a real warm interior
The newcomers tramped up the bare wooden stairs following the serving
woman Gudrun and Gerald took the first bedroom In a moment they found
themselves alone in a bare smallish closeshut room that was all of
goldencoloured wood floor walls ceiling door all of the same warm gold
panelling of oiled pine There was a window opposite the door but low down
because the roof sloped Under the slope of the ceiling were the table with
washhandbowl and jug and across another table with mirror On either side
the door were two beds piled high with an enormous bluechecked overbolster
enormous
This was all no cupboard none of the amenities of life Here they were
shut up together in this cell of goldencoloured wood with two blue checked
beds They looked at each other and laughed frightened by this naked nearness
of isolation
A man knocked and came in with the luggage He was a sturdy fellow with
flattish cheekbones rather pale and with coarse fair moustache Gudrun
watched him put down the bags in silence then tramp heavily out
»It isnt too rough is it« Gerald asked
The bedroom was not very warm and she shivered slightly
»It is wonderful« she equivocated »Look at the colour of this panelling
its wonderful like being inside a nut«
He was standing watching her feeling his shortcut moustache leaning back
slightly and watching her with his keen undaunted eyes dominated by the
constant passion that was like a doom upon him
She went and crouched down in front of the window curious
»Oh but this « she cried involuntarily almost in pain
In front was a valley shut in under the sky the last huge slopes of snow
and black rock and at the end like the navel of the earth a whitefolded
wall and two peaks glimmering in the late light Straight in front ran the
cradle of silent snow between the great slopes that were fringed with a little
roughness of pine trees like hair round the base But the cradle of snow ran
on to the eternal closingin where the walls of snow and rock rose
impenetrable and the mountain peaks above were in heaven immediate This was
the centre the knot the navel of the world where the earth belonged to the
skies pure unapproachable impassable
It filled Gudrun with a strange rapture She crouched in front of the
window clenching her face in her hands in a sort of trance At last she had
arrived she had reached her place Here at last she folded her venture and
settled down like a crystal in the navel of snow and was gone
Gerald bent above her and was looking out over her shoulder Already he felt
he was alone She was gone She was completely gone and there was icy vapour
round his heart He saw the blind valley the great culdesac of snow and
mountain peaks under the heaven And there was no way out The terrible silence
and cold and the glamorous whiteness of the dusk wrapped him round and she
remained crouching before the window as at a shrine a shadow
»Do you like it« he asked in a voice that sounded detached and foreign At
least she might acknowledge he was with her But she only averted her soft mute
face a little from his gaze And he knew that there were tears in her eyes her
own tears tears of her strange religion that put him to nought
Quite suddenly he put his hand under her chin and lifted up her face to
him Her dark blue eyes in their wetness of tears dilated as if she was
startled in her very soul They looked at him through their tears in terror and
a little horror His light blue eyes were keen smallpupilled and unnatural in
their vision Her lips parted as she breathed with difficulty
The passion came up in him stroke after stroke like the ringing of a
bronze bell so strong and unflawed and indomitable His knees tightened to
bronze as he hung above her soft face whose lips parted and whose eyes dilated
in a strange violation In the grasp of his hand her chin was unutterably soft
and silken He felt strong as winter his hands were living metal invincible
and not to be turned aside His heart rang like a bell clanging inside him
He took her up in his arms She was soft and inert motionless All the
while her eyes in which the tears had not yet dried were dilated as if in a
kind of swoon of fascination and helplessness He was superhumanly strong and
unflawed as if invested with supernatural force
He lifted her close and folded her against him Her softness her inert
relaxed weight lay against his own surcharged bronzelike limbs in a heaviness
of desirability that would destroy him if he were not fulfilled She moved
convulsively recoiling away from him His heart went up like a flame of ice he
closed over her like steel He would destroy her rather than be denied
But the overweening power of his body was too much for her She relaxed
again and lay loose and soft panting in a little delirium And to him she was
so sweet she was such bliss of release that he would have suffered a whole
eternity of torture rather than forgo one second of this pang of unsurpassable
bliss
»My God« he said to her his face drawn and strange transfigured »what
next«
She lay perfectly still with a still childlike face and dark eyes
looking at him She was lost fallen right away
»I shall always love you« he said looking at her
But she did not hear She lay looking at him as at something she could
never understand never as a child looks at a grownup person without hope of
understanding only submitting
He kissed her kissed her eyes shut so that she could not look any more He
wanted something now some recognition some sign some admission But she only
lay silent and childlike and remote like a child that is overcome and cannot
understand only feels lost He kissed her again giving up
»Shall we go down and have coffee and Kuchen« he asked
The twilight was falling slateblue at the window She closed her eyes
closed away the monotonous level of dead wonder and opened them again to the
everyday world
»Yes« she said briefly regaining her will with a click She went again to
the window Blue evening had fallen over the cradle of snow and over the great
pallid slopes But in the heaven the peaks of snow were rosy glistening like
transcendent radiant spikes of blossom in the heavenly upper world so lovely
and beyond
Gudrun saw all their loveliness she knew how immortally beautiful they
were great pistils of rosecoloured snowfed fire in the blue twilight of the
heaven She could see it she knew it but she was not of it She was divorced
debarred a soul shut out
With a last look of remorse she turned away and was doing her hair He had
unstrapped the luggage and was waiting watching her She knew he was watching
her It made her a little hasty and feverish in her precipitation
They went downstairs both with a strange otherworld look on their faces
and with a glow in their eyes They saw Birkin and Ursula sitting at the long
table in a corner waiting for them
»How good and simple they look together« Gudrun thought jealously She
envied them some spontaneity a childish sufficiency to which she herself could
never approach They seemed such children to her
»Such good Kranzkuchen« cried Ursula greedily »So good«
»Right« said Gudrun »Can we have Kaffee mit Kranzkuchen« she added to the
waiter
And she seated herself on the bench beside Gerald Birkin looking at them
felt a pain of tenderness for them
»I think the place is really wonderful Gerald« he said »prachtvoll and
wunderbar and wunderschön and unbeschreiblich and all the other German
adjectives«
Gerald broke into a slight smile
»I like it« he said
The tables of white scrubbed wood were placed round three sides of the
room as in a Gasthaus Birkin and Ursula sat with their backs to the wall
which was of oiled wood and Gerald and Gudrun sat in the corner next them near
to the stove It was a fairly large place with a tiny bar just like a country
inn but quite simple and bare and all of oiled wood ceilings and walls and
floor the only furniture being the tables and benches going round three sides
the great green stove and the bar and the doors on the fourth side The windows
were double and quite uncurtained It was early evening
The coffee came hot and good and a whole ring of cake
»A whole Kuchen« cried Ursula »They give you more than us I want some of
yours«
There were other people in the place ten altogether so Birkin had found
out two artists three students a man and wife and a Professor and two
daughters all Germans The four English people being newcomers sat in their
coign of vantage to watch The Germans peeped in at the door called a word to
the waiter and went away again It was not mealtime so they did not come into
this diningroom but betook themselves when their boots were changed to the
Reunionsaal
The English visitors could hear the occasional twanging of a zither the
strumming of a piano snatches of laughter and shouting and singing a faint
vibration of voices The whole building being of wood it seemed to carry every
sound like a drum but instead of increasing each particular noise it
decreased it so that the sound of the zither seemed tiny as if a diminutive
zither were playing somewhere and it seemed the piano must be a small one like
a little spinet
The host came when the coffee was finished He was a Tyrolese broad rather
flatcheeked with a pale pockmarked skin and flourishing moustaches
»Would you like to go to the Reunionsaal to be introduced to the other
ladies and gentlemen« he asked bending forward and smiling showing his large
strong teeth His blue eyes went quickly from one to the other he was not
quite sure of his ground with these English people He was unhappy too because
he spoke no English and he was not sure whether to try his French
»Shall we go to the Reunionsaal and be introduced to the other people«
repeated Gerald laughing
There was a moments hesitation
»I suppose wed better better break the ice« said Birkin
The women rose rather flushed And the Wirts black beetlelike
broadshouldered figure went on ignominiously in front towards the noise He
opened the door and ushered the four strangers into the playroom
Instantly a silence fell a slight embarrassment came over the company The
newcomers had a sense of many blond faces looking their way Then the host was
bowing to a short energeticlooking man with large moustaches and saying in a
low voice
»Herr Professor darf ich vorstellen «
The Herr Professor was prompt and energetic He bowed low to the English
people smiling and began to be a comrade at once
»Nehmen die Herrschaften teil an unserer Unterhaltung« he said with a
vigorous suavity his voice curling up in the question
The four English people smiled lounging with an attentive uneasiness in the
middle of the room Gerald who was spokesman said that they would willingly
take part in the entertainment Gudrun and Ursula laughing excited felt the
eyes of all the men upon them and they lifted their heads and looked nowhere
and felt royal
The Professor announced the names of those present sans cérémonie There
was a bowing to the wrong people and to the right people Everybody was there
except the man and wife The two tall clearskinned athletic daughters of the
professor with their plaincut dark blue blouses and loden skirts their
rather long strong necks their clear blue eyes and carefully banded hair and
their blushes bowed and stood back the three students bowed very low in the
humble hope of making an impression of extreme good breeding then there was a
thin darkskinned man with full eyes an odd creature like a child and like a
troll quick detached he bowed slightly his companion a large fair young
man stylishly dressed blushed to the eyes and bowed very low
It was over
»Herr Loerke was giving us a recitation in the Cologne dialect« said the
Professor
»He must forgive us for interrupting him« said Gerald »we should like very
much to hear it«
There was instantly a bowing and an offering of seats Gudrun and Ursula
Gerald and Birkin sat in the deep sofas against the wall The room was of naked
oiled panelling like the rest of the house It had a piano sofas and chairs
and a couple of tables with books and magazines In its complete absence of
decoration save for the big blue stove it was cosy and pleasant
Herr Loerke was the little man with the boyish figure and the round full
sensitivelooking head and the quick full eyes like a mouses He glanced
swiftly from one to the other of the strangers and held himself aloof
»Please go on with the recitation« said the Professor suavely with his
slight authority Loerke who was sitting hunched on the pianostool blinked
and did not answer
»It would be a great pleasure« said Ursula who had been getting the
sentence ready in German for some minutes
Then suddenly the small unresponding man swung aside towards his
previous audience and broke forth exactly as he had broken off in a
controlled mocking voice giving an imitation of a quarrel between an old
Cologne woman and a railway guard
His body was slight and unformed like a boys but his voice was mature
sardonic its movement had the flexibility of essential energy and of a mocking
penetrating understanding Gudrun could not understand a word of his monologue
but she was spellbound watching him He must be an artist nobody else could
have such fine adjustment and singleness The Germans were doubled up with
laughter hearing his strange droll words his droll phrases of dialect And in
the midst of their paroxysms they glanced with deference at the four English
strangers the elect Gudrun and Ursula were forced to laugh The room rang with
shouts of laughter The blue eyes of the Professors daughters were swimming
over with laughtertears their clear cheeks were flushed crimson with mirth
their father broke out in the most astonishing peals of hilarity the students
bowed their heads on their knees in excess of joy Ursula looked round amazed
the laughter was bubbling out of her involuntarily She looked at Gudrun Gudrun
looked at her and the two sisters burst out laughing carried away Loerke
glanced at them swiftly with his full eyes Birkin was sniggering
involuntarily Gerald Crich sat erect with a glistening look of amusement on
his face And the laughter crashed out again in wild paroxysms the Professors
daughters were reduced to shaking helplessness the veins of the Professors
neck were swollen his face was purple he was strangled in ultimate silent
spasms of laughter The students were shouting halfarticulated words that
tailed off in helpless explosions Then suddenly the rapid patter of the artist
ceased there were little whoops of subsiding mirth Ursula and Gudrun were
wiping their eyes and the Professor was crying loudly
»Das war ausgezeichnet das war famos «
»Wirklich famos« echoed his exhausted daughters faintly
»And we couldnt understand it« cried Ursula
»Oh leider leider« cried the Professor
»You couldnt understand it« cried the Students let loose at last in
speech with the newcomers »Ja das ist wirklich schade das ist schade gnädige
Frau Wissen Sie «
The mixture was made the newcomers were stirred into the party like new
ingredients the whole room was alive Gerald was in his element he talked
freely and excitedly his face glistened with a strange amusement Perhaps even
Birkin in the end would break forth He was shy and withheld though full of
attention
Ursula was prevailed upon to sing »Annie Lowrie« as the Professor called
it There was a hush of extreme deference She had never been so flattered in
her life Gudrun accompanied her on the piano playing from memory
Ursula had a beautiful ringing voice but usually no confidence she spoiled
everything This evening she felt conceited and untrammelled Birkin was well in
the background she shone almost in reaction the Germans made her feel fine and
infallible she was liberated into overweening selfconfidence She felt like a
bird flying in the air as her voice soared out enjoying herself extremely in
the balance and flight of the song like the motion of a birds wings that is up
in the wind sliding and playing on the air she played with sentimentality
supported by rapturous attention She was very happy singing that song by
herself full of a conceit of emotion and power working upon all those people
and upon herself exerting herself with gratification giving immeasurable
gratification to the Germans
At the end the Germans were all touched with admiring delicious
melancholy they praised her in soft reverent voices they could not say too
much
»Wie schön wie rührend Ach die Schottischen Lieder sie haben so viel
Stimmung Aber die gnädige Frau hat eine wunderbare Stimme die gnädige Frau ist
wirklich eine Künstlerin aber wirklich«
She was dilated and brilliant like a flower in the morning sun She felt
Birkin looking at her as if he were jealous of her and her breasts thrilled
her veins were all golden She was as happy as the sun that has just opened
above clouds And everybody seemed so admiring and radiant it was perfect
After dinner she wanted to go out for a minute to look at the world The
company tried to dissuade her it was so terribly cold But just to look she
said
They all four wrapped up warmly and found themselves in a vague
unsubstantial outdoors of dim snow and ghosts of an upperworld that made
strange shadows before the stars It was indeed cold bruisingly frighteningly
unnaturally cold Ursula could not believe the air in her nostrils It seemed
conscious malevolent purposive in its intense murderous coldness
Yet it was wonderful an intoxication a silence of dim unrealised snow of
the invisible intervening between her and the visible between her and the
flashing stars She could see Orion sloping up How wonderful he was wonderful
enough to make one cry aloud
And all around was this cradle of snow and there was firm snow underfoot
that struck with heavy cold through her bootsoles It was night and silence
She imagined she could hear the stars She imagined distinctly she could hear
the celestial musical motion of the stars quite near at hand She seemed like
a bird flying amongst their harmonious motion
And she clung close to Birkin Suddenly she realised she did not know what
he was thinking She did not know where he was ranging
»My love« she said stopping to look at him
His face was pale his eyes dark there was a faint spark of starlight on
them And he saw her face soft and upturned to him very near He kissed her
softly
»What then« he asked
»Do you love me« she asked
»Too much« he answered quietly
She clung a little closer
»Not too much« she pleaded
»Far too much« he said almost sadly
»And does it make you sad that I am everything to you« she asked wistful
He held her close to him kissing her and saying scarcely audible
»No but I feel like a beggar I feel poor«
She was silent looking at the stars now Then she kissed him
»Dont be a beggar« she pleaded wistfully »It isnt ignominious that you
love me«
»It is ignominious to feel poor isnt it« he replied
»Why Why should it be« she asked He only stood still in the terribly
cold air that moved invisibly over the mountain tops folding her round with his
arms
»I couldnt bear this cold eternal place without you« he said »I couldnt
bear it it would kill the quick of my life«
She kissed him again suddenly
»Do you hate it« she asked puzzled wondering
»If I couldnt come near to you if you werent here I should hate it I
couldnt bear it« he answered
»But the people are nice« she said
»I mean the stillness the cold the frozen eternality« he said
She wondered Then her spirit came home to him nestling unconscious in him
»Yes it is good we are warm and together« she said
And they turned home again They saw the golden lights of the hotel glowing
out in the night of snowsilence small in the hollow like a cluster of yellow
berries It seemed like a bunch of sunsparks tiny and orange in the midst of
the snowdarkness Behind was a high shadow of a peak blotting out the stars
like a ghost
They drew near to their home They saw a man come from the dark building
with a lighted lantern which swung golden and made that his dark feet walked in
a halo of snow He was a small dark figure in the darkened snow He unlatched
the door of an outhouse A smell of cows hot animal almost like beef came
out on the heavily cold air There was a glimpse of two cattle in their dark
stalls then the door was shut again and not a chink of light showed It had
reminded Ursula again of home of the Marsh of her childhood and of the
journey to Brussels and strangely of Anton Skrebensky
Oh God could one bear it this past which was gone down the abyss Could
she bear that it ever had been She looked round this silent upper world of
snow and stars and powerful cold There was another world like views on a magic
lantern The Marsh Cossethay Ilkeston lit up with a common unreal light
There was a shadowy unreal Ursula a whole shadowplay of an unreal life It was
as unreal and circumscribed as a magiclantern show She wished the slides
could all be broken She wished it could be gone for ever like a lanternslide
which was broken She wanted to have no past She wanted to have come down from
the slopes of heaven to this place with Birkin not to have toiled out of the
murk of her childhood and her upbringing slowly all soiled She felt that
memory was a dirty trick played upon her What was this decree that she should
remember Why not a bath of pure oblivion a new birth without any
recollections or blemish of a past life She was with Birkin she had just come
into life here in the high snow against the stars What had she to do with
parents and antecedents She knew herself new and unbegotten she had no father
no mother no anterior connections she was herself pure and silvery she
belonged only to the oneness with Birkin a oneness that struck deeper notes
sounding into the heart of the universe the heart of reality where she had
never existed before
Even Gudrun was a separate unit separate separate having nothing to do
with this self this Ursula in her new world of reality That old shadowworld
the actuality of the past ah let it go She rose free on the wings of her new
condition
Gudrun and Gerald had not come in They had walked up the valley straight in
front of the house not like Ursula and Birkin on to the little hill at the
right Gudrun was driven by a strange desire She wanted to plunge on and on
till she came to the end of the valley of snow Then she wanted to climb the
wall of white finality climb over into the peaks that sprang up like sharp
petals in the heart of the frozen mysterious navel of the world She felt that
there over the strange blind terrible wall of rocky snow there in the navel
of the mystic world among the final cluster of peaks there in the infolded
navel of it all was her consummation If she could but come there alone and
pass into the infolded navel of eternal snow and of uprising immortal peaks of
snow and rock she would be a oneness with all she would be herself the
eternal infinite silence the sleeping timeless frozen centre of the All
They went back to the house to the Reunionsaal She was curious to see what
was going on The men there made her alert roused her curiosity It was a new
taste of life for her they were so prostrate before her yet so full of life
The party was boisterous they were dancing all together dancing the
Schuhplatteln the Tyrolese dance of the clapping hands and tossing the partner
in the air at the crisis The Germans were all proficient they were from
Munich chiefly Gerald also was quite passable There were three zithers
twanging away in a corner It was a scene of great animation and confusion The
Professor was initiating Ursula into the dance stamping clapping and swinging
her high with amazing force and zest When the crisis came even Birkin was
behaving manfully with one of the Professors fresh strong daughters who was
exceedingly happy Everybody was dancing there was the most boisterous turmoil
Gudrun looked on with delight The solid wooden floor resounded to the
knocking heels of the men the air quivered with the clapping hands and the
zither music there was a golden dust about the hanging lamps
Suddenly the dance finished Loerke and the students rushed out to bring in
drinks There was an excited clamour of voices a clinking of muglids a great
crying of »Prosit Prosit« Loerke was everywhere at once like a gnome
suggesting drinks for the women making an obscure slightly risky joke with the
men confusing and mystifying the waiter
He wanted very much to dance with Gudrun From the first moment he had seen
her he wanted to make a connection with her Instinctively she felt this and
she waited for him to come up But a kind of sulkiness kept him away from her
so she thought he disliked her
»Will you schuhpletteln gnädige Frau« said the large fair youth Loerkes
companion He was too soft too humble for Gudruns taste But she wanted to
dance and the fair youth who was called Leitner was handsome enough in his
uneasy slightly abject fashion a humility that covered a certain fear She
accepted him as a partner
The zithers sounded out again the dance began Gerald led them laughing
with one of the Professors daughters Ursula danced with one of the students
Birkin with the other daughter of the Professor the Professor with Frau Kramer
and the rest of the men danced together with quite as much zest as if they had
had women partners
Because Gudrun had danced with the wellbuilt soft youth his companion
Loerke was more pettish and exasperated than ever and would not even notice her
existence in the room This piqued her but she made up to herself by dancing
with the Professor who was strong as a mature wellseasoned bull and as full
of coarse energy She could not bear him critically and yet she enjoyed being
rushed through the dance and tossed up into the air on his coarse powerful
impetus The Professor enjoyed it too he eyed her with strange large blue
eyes full of galvanic fire She hated him for the seasoned semipaternal
animalism with which he regarded her but she admired his weight of strength
The room was charged with excitement and strong animal emotion Loerke was
kept away from Gudrun to whom he wanted to speak as by a hedge of thorns and
he felt a sardonic ruthless hatred for this young lovecompanion Leitner who
was his penniless dependent He mocked the youth with an acid ridicule that
made Leitner red in the face and impotent with resentment
Gerald who had now got the dance perfectly was dancing again with the
younger of the Professors daughters who was almost dying of virgin excitement
because she thought Gerald so handsome so superb He had her in his power as
if she were a palpitating bird a fluttering flushing bewildered creature And
it made him smile as she shrank convulsively between his hands violently when
he must throw her into the air At the end she was so overcome with prostrate
love for him that she could scarcely speak sensibly at all
Birkin was dancing with Ursula There were odd little fires playing in his
eyes he seemed to have turned into something wicked and flickering mocking
suggestive quite impossible Ursula was frightened of him and fascinated
Clear before her eyes as in a vision she could see the sardonic licentious
mockery of his eyes he moved towards her with subtle animal indifferent
approach The strangeness of his hands which came quick and cunning inevitably
to the vital place beneath her breasts and lifting with mocking suggestive
impulse carried her through the air as if without strength through black
magic made her swoon with fear For a moment she revolted it was horrible She
would break the spell But before the resolution had formed she had submitted
again yielded to her fear He knew all the time what he was doing she could
see it in his smiling concentrated eyes It was his responsibility she would
leave it to him
When they were alone in the darkness she felt the strange licentiousness of
him hovering upon her She was troubled and repelled Why should he turn like
this
»What is it« she asked in dread
But his face only glistened on her unknown horrible And yet she was
fascinated Her impulse was to repel him violently break from this spell of
mocking brutishness But she was too fascinated she wanted to submit she
wanted to know What would he do to her
He was so attractive and so repulsive at once The sardonic suggestivity
that flickered over his face and looked from his narrowed eyes made her want to
hide to hide herself away from him and watch him from somewhere unseen
»Why are you like this« she demanded again rousing against him with sudden
force and animosity
The flickering fires in his eyes concentrated as he looked into her eyes
Then the lids drooped with a faint motion of satiric contempt Then they rose
again to the same remorseless suggestivity And she gave way he might do as he
would His licentiousness was repulsively attractive But he was
selfresponsible she would see what it was
They might do as they liked this she realised as she went to sleep How
could anything that gave one satisfaction be excluded What was degrading Who
cared Degrading things were real with a different reality. And he was so
unabashed and unrestrained Wasnt it rather horrible a man who could be so
soulful and spiritual now to be so she balked at her own thoughts and
memories then she added so bestial So bestial they two so degraded She
winced But after all why not She exulted as well Why not be bestial and go
the whole round of experience? She exulted in it She was bestial How good it
was to be really shameful There would be no shameful thing she had not
experienced Yet she was unabashed she was herself Why not She was free when
she knew everything and no dark shameful things were denied her
Gudrun who had been watching Gerald in the Reunionsaal suddenly thought
»He should have all the women he can it is his nature It is absurd to
call him monogamous he is naturally promiscuous That is his nature«
The thought came to her involuntarily It shocked her somewhat It was as if
she had seen some new Mene Mene upon the wall Yet it was merely true A voice
seemed to have spoken it to her so clearly that for the moment she believed in
inspiration
»It is really true« she said to herself again
She knew quite well she had believed it all along She knew it implicitly
But she must keep it dark almost from herself She must keep it completely
secret It was knowledge for her alone and scarcely even to be admitted to
herself
The deep resolve formed in her to combat him One of them must triumph over
the other Which should it be Her soul steeled itself with strength Almost she
laughed within herself at her confidence It woke a certain keen half
contemptuous pity tenderness for him she was so ruthless
Everybody retired early The Professor and Loerke went into a small lounge
to drink They both watched Gudrun go along the landing by the railing upstairs
»Ein schönes Frauenzimmer« said the Professor
»Ja« asserted Loerke shortly
Gerald walked with his queer long wolfsteps across the bedroom to the
window stooped and looked out then rose again and turned to Gudrun his eyes
sharp with an abstract smile He seemed very tall to her she saw the glisten of
his whitish eyebrows that met between his brows
»How do you like it« he said
He seemed to be laughing inside himself quite unconsciously She looked at
him He was a phenomenon to her not a human being a sort of creature greedy
»I like it very much« she replied
»Who do you like best downstairs« he asked standing tall and glistening
above her with his glistening stiff hair erect
»Who do I like best« she repeated wanting to answer his question and
finding it difficult to collect herself »Why I dont know I dont know enough
about them yet to be able to say Who do you like best«
»Oh I dont care I dont like or dislike any of them It doesnt matter
about me I wanted to know about you«
»But why« she asked going rather pale The abstract, unconscious smile in
his eyes was intensified
»I wanted to know« he said
She turned aside breaking the spell In some strange way she felt he was
getting power over her
»Well I cant tell you already« she said
She went to the mirror to take out the hairpins from her hair She stood
before the mirror every night for some minutes brushing her fine dark hair It
was part of the inevitable ritual of her life
He followed her and stood behind her She was busy with bent head taking
out the pins and shaking her warm hair loose When she looked up she saw him in
the glass standing behind her watching unconsciously not consciously seeing
her and yet watching with finepupilled eyes that seemed to smile and which
were not really smiling
She started It took all her courage for her to continue brushing her hair
as usual for her to pretend she was at her ease She was far far from being at
her ease with him She beat her brains wildly for something to say to him
»What are your plans for tomorrow« she asked nonchalantly whilst her
heart was beating so furiously her eyes were so bright with strange
nervousness she felt he could not but observe But she knew also that he was
completely blind blind as a wolf looking at her It was a strange battle
between her ordinary consciousness and his uncanny blackart consciousness
»I dont know« he replied »what would you like to do«
He spoke emptily his mind was sunk away
»Oh« she said with easy protestation »Im ready for anything anything
will be fine for me Im sure«
And to herself she was saying »God why am I so nervous why are you so
nervous you fool If he sees it Im done for for ever you know youre done
for for ever if he sees the absurd state youre in«
And she smiled to herself as if it were all childs play Meanwhile her
heart was plunging she was almost fainting She could see him in the mirror
as he stood there behind her tall and overarching blond and terribly
frightening She glanced at his reflection with furtive eyes willing to give
anything to save him from knowing she could see him He did not know she could
see his reflection He was looking unconsciously glisteningly down at her head
from which the hair fell loose as she brushed it with wild nervous hand She
held her head aside and brushed and brushed her hair madly For her life she
could not turn round and face him For her life she could not And the
knowledge made her almost sink to the ground in a faint helpless spent She
was aware of his frightening impending figure standing close behind her she
was aware of his hard strong unyielding chest close upon her back And she
felt she could not bear it any more in a few minutes she would fall down at his
feet grovelling at his feet and letting him destroy her
The thought pricked up all her sharp intelligence and presence of mind She
dared not turn round to him and there he stood motionless unbroken Summoning
all her strength she said in a full resonant nonchalant voice that was
forced out with all her remaining selfcontrol
»Oh would you mind looking in that bag behind there and giving me my «
Here her power fell inert »My what my what « she screamed in silence to
herself
But he had started round surprised and startled that she should ask him to
look in her bag which she always kept so very private to herself She turned
now her face white her dark eyes blazing with uncanny overwrought excitement
She saw him stooping to the bag undoing the loosely buckled strap unattentive
»Your what« he asked
»Oh a little enamel box yellow with a design of a cormorant plucking
her breast «
She went towards him stooping her beautiful bare arm and deftly turned
some of her things disclosing the box which was exquisitely painted
»That is it see« she said taking it from under his eyes
And he was baffled now He was left to fasten up the bag whilst she swiftly
did up her hair for the night and sat down to unfasten her shoes She would not
turn her back to him any more
He was baffled frustrated but unconscious She had the whip hand over him
now She knew he had not realised her terrible panic Her heart was beating
heavily still Fool fool that she was to get into such a state How she
thanked God for Geralds obtuse blindness Thank God he could see nothing
She sat slowly unlacing her shoes and he too commenced to undress Thank
God that crisis was over She felt almost fond of him now almost in love with
him
»Ah Gerald« she laughed caressively teasingly »Ah what a fine game you
played with the Professors daughter didnt you now«
»What game« he asked looking round
»Isnt she in love with you oh dear isnt she in love with you« said
Gudrun in her gayest most attractive mood
»I shouldnt think so« he said
»Shouldnt think so« she teased »Why the poor girl is lying at this moment
overwhelmed dying with love for you She thinks youre wonderful oh
marvellous beyond what man has ever been Really isnt it funny«
»Why funny what is funny« he asked
»Why to see you working it on her« she said with a half reproach that
confused the male conceit in him »Really Gerald the poor girl «
»I did nothing to her« he said
»Oh it was too shameful the way you simply swept her off her feet«
»That was Schuhplatteln« he replied with a bright grin
»Ha ha ha« laughed Gudrun
Her mockery quivered through his muscles with curious reechoes When he
slept he seemed to crouch down in the bed lapped up in his own strength that
yet was hollow
And Gudrun slept strongly a victorious sleep Suddenly she was almost
fiercely awake The small timber room glowed with the dawn that came upwards
from the low window She could see down the valley when she lifted her head the
snow with a pinkish halfrevealed magic the fringe of pine trees at the bottom
of the slope And one tiny figure moved over the vaguelyilluminated space
She glanced at his watch it was seven oclock He was still completely
asleep And she was so hard awake it was almost frightening a hard metallic
wakefulness She lay looking at him
He slept in the subjection of his own health and defeat She was overcome by
a sincere regard for him Till now she was afraid before him She lay and
thought about him what he was what he represented in the world A fine
independent will he had She thought of the revolution he had worked in the
mines in so short a time She knew that if he were confronted with any problem
any hard actual difficulty he would overcome it If he laid hold of any idea
he would carry it through He had the faculty of making order out of confusion
Only let him grip hold of a situation and he would bring to pass an inevitable
conclusion
For a few moments she was borne away on the wild wings of ambition Gerald
with his force of will and his power for comprehending the actual world should
be set to solve the problems of the day the problem of industrialism in the
modern world She knew he would in the course of time effect the changes he
desired he could reorganise the industrial system She knew he could do it As
an instrument in these things he was marvellous she had never seen any man
with his potentiality He was unaware of it but she knew
He only needed to be hitched on he needed that his hand should be set to
the task because he was so unconscious And this she could do She would marry
him he would go into Parliament in the Conservative interest he would clear up
the great muddle of labour and industry He was so superbly fearless masterful
he knew that every problem could be worked out in life as in geometry And he
would care neither about himself nor about anything but the pure working out of
the problem He was very pure really
Her heart beat fast she flew away on wings of elation imagining a future
He would be a Napoleon of peace or a Bismarck and she the woman behind him
She had read Bismarcks letters and had been deeply moved by them And Gerald
would be freer more dauntless than Bismarck
But even as she lay in fictitious transport bathed in the strange false
sunshine of hope in life something seemed to snap in her and a terrible
cynicism began to gain upon her blowing in like a wind Everything turned to
irony with her the last flavour of everything was ironical When she felt her
pang of undeniable reality this was when she knew the hard irony of hopes and
ideas
She lay and looked at him as he slept He was sheerly beautiful he was a
perfect instrument To her mind he was a pure inhuman almost superhuman
instrument His instrumentality appealed so strongly to her she wished she were
God to use him as a tool
And at the same instant came the ironical question »What for« She thought
of the colliers wives with their linoleum and their lace curtains and their
little girls in highlaced boots She thought of the wives and daughters of the
pitmanagers their tennisparties and their terrible struggles to be superior
each to the other in the social scale There was Shortlands with its
meaningless distinction the meaningless crowd of the Criches There was London
the House of Commons the extant social world My God
Young as she was Gudrun had touched the whole pulse of social England She
had no ideas of rising in the world She knew with the perfect cynicism of
cruel youth that to rise in the world meant to have one outside show instead of
another the advance was like having a spurious halfcrown instead of a spurious
penny The whole coinage of valuation was spurious Yet of course her cynicism
knew well enough that in a world where spurious coin was current a bad
sovereign was better than a bad farthing But rich and poor she despised both
alike
Already she mocked at herself for her dreams They could be fulfilled easily
enough But she recognised too well in her spirit the mockery of her own
impulses What did she care that Gerald had created a richlypaying industry
out of an old wornout concern What did she care The wornout concern and the
rapid splendidly organised industry they were bad money Yet of course she
cared a great deal outwardly and outwardly was all that mattered for
inwardly was a bad joke
Everything was intrinsically a piece of irony to her She leaned over Gerald
and said in her heart with compassion
»Oh my dear my dear the game isnt worth even you You are a fine thing
really why should you be used on such a poor show«
Her heart was breaking with pity and grief for him And at the same moment
a grimace came over her mouth of mocking irony at her own unspoken tirade Ah
what a farce it was She thought of Parnell and Katherine OShea Parnell After
all who can take the nationalisation of Ireland seriously Who can take
political Ireland really seriously whatever it does And who can take political
England seriously Who can Who can care a straw really how the old patchedup
Constitution is tinkered at any more Who cares a button for our national ideas
any more than for our national bowler hat Aha it is all old hat it is all old
bowler hat
Thats all it is Gerald my young hero At any rate well spare ourselves
the nausea of stirring the old broth any more You be beautiful my Gerald and
reckless There are perfect moments Wake up Gerald wake up convince me of
the perfect moments Oh convince me I need it
He opened his eyes and looked at her She greeted him with a mocking
enigmatic smile in which was a poignant gaiety Over his face went the
reflection of the smile he smiled too purely unconsciously
That filled her with extraordinary delight to see the smile cross his face
reflected from her face She remembered that was how a baby smiled It filled
her with extraordinary radiant delight
»Youve done it« she said
»What« he asked dazed
»Convinced me«
And she bent down kissing him passionately passionately so that he was
bewildered He did not ask her of what he had convinced her though he meant to
He was glad she was kissing him She seemed to be feeling for his very heart to
touch the quick of him And he wanted her to touch the quick of his being he
wanted that most of all
Outside somebody was singing in a manly reckless handsome voice
»Mach mir auf mach mir auf du Stolze
Mach mir ein Feuer von Holze
Vom Regen bin ich nass
Vom Regen bin ich nass «
Gudrun knew that that song would sound through her eternity sung in a manly
reckless mocking voice It marked one of her supreme moments the supreme pangs
of her nervous gratification There it was fixed in eternity for her
The day came fine and bluish There was a light wind blowing among the
mountaintops keen as a rapier where it touched carrying with it a fine dust
of snow powder Gerald went out with the fine blind face of a man who is in his
state of fulfilment Gudrun and he were in perfect static unity this morning
but unseeing and unwitting They went out with a toboggan leaving Ursula and
Birkin to follow
Gudrun was all scarlet and royal blue a scarlet jersey and cap and a
royal blue skirt and stockings She went gaily over the white snow with Gerald
beside her in white and grey pulling the little toboggan They grew small in
the distance of snow climbing the steep slope
For Gudrun herself she seemed to pass altogether into the whiteness of the
snow she became a pure thoughtless crystal When she reached the top of the
slope in the wind she looked round and saw peak beyond peak of rock and snow
bluish transcendent in heaven And it seemed to her like a garden with the
peaks for pure flowers and her heart gathering them She had no separate
consciousness for Gerald
She held on to him as they went sheering down over the keen slope She felt
as if her senses were being whetted on some fine grindstone that was keen as
flame The snow sprinted on either side like sparks from a blade that is being
sharpened the whiteness round about ran swifter swifter in pure flame the
white slope flew against her and she fused like one molten dancing globule
rushed through a white intensity Then there was a great swerve at the bottom
when they swung as it were in a fall to earth in the diminishing motion
They came to rest But when she rose to her feet she could not stand She
gave a strange cry turned and clung to him sinking her face on his breast
fainting in him Utter oblivion came over her as she lay for a few moments
abandoned against him
»What is it« he was saying »Was it too much for you«
But she heard nothing
When she came to she stood up and looked round astonished Her face was
white her eyes brilliant and large »What is it« he repeated »Did it upset
you«
She looked at him with her brilliant eyes that seemed to have undergone some
transfiguration and she laughed with a terrible merriment
»No« she cried with triumphant joy »It was the complete moment of my
life«
And she looked at him with her dazzling overweening laughter like one
possessed A fine blade seemed to enter his heart but he did not care or take
any notice
But they climbed up the slope again and they flew down through the white
flame again splendidly splendidly Gudrun was laughing and flashing powdered
with snowcrystals Gerald worked perfectly He felt he could guide the toboggan
to a hairbreadth almost he could make it pierce into the air and right into the
very heart of the sky It seemed to him the flying sledge was but his strength
spread out he had but to move his arms the motion was his own They explored
the great slopes to find another slide He felt there must be something better
than they had known And he found what he desired a perfect long fierce sweep
sheering past the foot of a rock and into the trees at the base It was
dangerous he knew But then he knew also he would direct the sledge between his
fingers
The first days passed in an ecstasy of physical motion sleighing skiing
skating moving in an intensity of speed and white light that surpassed life
itself, and carried the souls of the human beings beyond into an inhuman
abstraction of velocity and weight and eternal frozen snow
Geralds eyes became hard and strange and as he went by on his skis he was
more like some powerful fateful sigh than a man his muscles elastic in a
perfect soaring trajectory his body projected in pure flight mindless
soulless whirling along one perfect line of force
Luckily there came a day of snow when they must all stay indoors otherwise
Birkin said they would all lose their faculties and begin to utter themselves
in cries and shrieks like some strange unknown species of snowcreatures
It happened in the afternoon that Ursula sat in the Reunionsaal talking to
Loerke The latter had seemed unhappy lately He was lively and full of
mischievous humour as usual
But Ursula had thought he was sulky about something His partner too the
big fair goodlooking youth was ill at ease going about as if he belonged to
nowhere and was kept in some sort of subjection against which he was
rebelling
Loerke had hardly talked to Gudrun His associate on the other hand had
paid her constantly a soft overdeferential attention Gudrun wanted to talk to
Loerke He was a sculptor and she wanted to hear his view of his art And his
figure attracted her There was the look of a little wastrel about him that
intrigued her and an old mans look that interested her and then beside this
an uncanny singleness a quality of being by himself not in contact with
anybody else that marked out an artist to her He was a chatterer a magpie a
maker of mischievous wordjokes that were sometimes very clever but which
often were not And she could see in his brown gnomes eyes the black look of
inorganic misery which lay behind all his small buffoonery
His figure interested her the figure of a boy almost a street arab He
made no attempt to conceal it He always wore a simple loden suit with knee
breeches His legs were thin and he made no attempt to disguise the fact which
was of itself remarkable in a German And he never ingratiated himself anywhere
not in the slightest but kept to himself for all his apparent playfulness
Leitner his companion was a great sportsman very handsome with his big
limbs and his blue eyes Loerke would go tobogganing or skating in little
snatches but he was indifferent And his fine thin nostrils the nostrils of a
purebred street arab would quiver with contempt at Leitners splothering
gymnastic displays It was evident that the two men who had travelled and lived
together sharing the same bedroom had now reached the stage of loathing
Leitner hated Loerke with an injured writhing impotent hatred and Loerke
treated Leitner with a finequivering contempt and sarcasm Soon the two would
have to go apart
Already they were rarely together Leitner ran attaching himself to somebody
or other always deferring Loerke was a good deal alone Out of doors he wore a
Westphalian cap a close brown velvet head with big brown velvet flaps down over
his ears so that he looked like a lopeared rabbit or a troll His face was
brownred with a dry bright skin that seemed to crinkle with his mobile
expressions His eyes were arresting brown full like a rabbits or like a
trolls or like the eyes of a lost being having a strange dumb depraved look
of knowledge and a quick spark of uncanny fire Whenever Gudrun had tried to
talk to him he had shied away unresponsive looking at her with his watchful
dark eyes but entering into no relation with her He had made her feel that her
slow French and her slower German were hateful to him As for his own inadequate
English he was much too awkward to try it at all But he understood a good deal
of what was said nevertheless And Gudrun piqued left him alone
This afternoon however she came into the lounge as he was talking to
Ursula His fine black hair somehow reminded her of a bat thin as it was on
his full sensitivelooking head and worn away at the temples He sat hunched
up as if his spirit were batlike And Gudrun could see he was making some slow
confidence to Ursula unwilling a slow grudging scanty selfrevelation She
went and sat by her sister
He looked at her then looked away again as if he took no notice of her
But as a matter of fact, she interested him deeply
»Isnt it interesting Prune« said Ursula turning to her sister »Herr
Loerke is doing a great frieze for a factory in Cologne for the outside the
street«
She looked at him at his thin brown nervous hands that were prehensile
and somehow like talons like griffes inhuman
»What in« she asked
»Aus was« repeated Ursula
»Granit« he replied
It had become immediately a laconic series of question and answer between
fellow craftsmen
»What is the relief« asked Gudrun
»Alto relievo«
»And at what height«
It was very interesting to Gudrun to think of his making the great granite
frieze for a great granite factory in Cologne She got from him some notion of
the design It was a representation of a fair with peasants and artisans in an
orgy of enjoyment drunk and absurd in their modern dress whirling ridiculously
in roundabouts gaping at shows kissing and staggering and rolling in knots
swinging in swingboats and firing down shootinggalleries a frenzy of chaotic
motion
There was a swift discussion of technicalities Gudrun was very much
impressed
»But how wonderful to have such a factory« cried Ursula »Is the whole
building fine«
»Oh yes« he replied »The frieze is part of the whole architecture Yes it
is a colossal thing«
Then he seemed to stiffen shrugged his shoulders and went on
»Sculpture and architecture must go together The day for irrelevant
statues as for wall pictures is over As a matter of fact, sculpture is always
part of an architectural conception And since churches are all museum stuff
since industry is our business now then let us make our places of industry our
art our factory area our Parthenon ecco«
Ursula pondered
»I suppose« she said »there is no need for our great works to be so
hideous«
Instantly he broke into motion
»There you are« he cried »there you are There is not only no need for our
places of work to be ugly but their ugliness ruins the work in the end Men
will not go on submitting to such intolerable ugliness In the end it will hurt
too much and they will wither because of it And this will wither the work as
well They will think the work itself is ugly the machines the very act of
labour Whereas the machinery and the acts of labour are extremely maddeningly
beautiful But this will be the end of our civilisation when people will not
work because work has become so intolerable to their senses it nauseates them
too much they would rather starve Then we shall see the hammer used only for
smashing then we shall see it Yet here we are we have the opportunity to
make beautiful factories beautiful machinehouses we have the opportunity «
Gudrun could only partly understand She could have cried with vexation
»What does he say« she asked Ursula And Ursula translated stammering and
brief Loerke watched Gudruns face to see her judgment
»And do you think then« said Gudrun »that art should serve industry«
»Art should interpret industry as art once interpreted religion« he said
»But does your fair interpret industry« she asked him
»Certainly What is man doing when he is at a fair like this He is
fulfilling the counterpart of labour the machine works him instead of he the
machine He enjoys the mechanical motion in his own body«
»But is there nothing but work mechanical work« said Gudrun
»Nothing but work« he repeated leaning forward his eyes two darknesses
with needlepoints of light »No it is nothing but this serving a machine or
enjoying the motion of a machine motion that is all You have never worked
for hunger or you would know what god governs us«
Gudrun quivered and flushed For some reason she was almost in tears
»No I have not worked for hunger« she replied »but I have worked«
»Travaillé lavorato« he asked »E che lavoro che lavoro Quel travail
estce que vous avez fait«
He broke into a mixture of Italian and French instinctively using a foreign
language when he spoke to her
»You have never worked as the world works« he said to her with sarcasm
»Yes« she said »I have And I do I work now for my daily bread«
He paused looked at her steadily then dropped the subject entirely She
seemed to him to be trifling
»But have you ever worked as the world works« Ursula asked him
He looked at her untrustful
»Yes« he replied with a surly bark »I have known what it was to lie in
bed for three days because I had nothing to eat«
Gudrun was looking at him with large grave eyes that seemed to draw the
confession from him as the marrow from his bones All his nature held him back
from confessing And yet her large grave eyes upon him seemed to open some
valve in his veins and involuntarily he was telling
»My father was a man who did not like work and we had no mother We lived
in Austria Polish Austria How did we live Ha somehow Mostly in a room
with three other families one set in each corner and the wc in the middle
of the room a pan with a plank on it ha I had two brothers and a sister
and there might be a woman with my father He was a free being in his way
would fight with any man in the town a garrison town and was a little man
too But he wouldnt work for anybody set his heart against it and wouldnt«
»And how did you live then« asked Ursula
He looked at her then suddenly at Gudrun
»Do you understand« he asked
»Enough« she replied
Their eyes met for a moment Then he looked away He would say no more
»And how did you become a sculptor« asked Ursula
»How did I become a sculptor « He paused »Dunque « he resumed in a
changed manner and beginning to speak French »I became old enough I used to
steal from the marketplace Later I went to work imprinted the stamp on clay
bottles before they were baked It was an earthenware bottle factory There I
began making models One day I had had enough I lay in the sun and did not go
to work Then I walked to Munich then I walked to Italy begging begging
everything«
»The Italians were very good to me they were good and honourable to me
From Bozen to Rome almost every night I had a meal and a bed perhaps of straw
with some peasant I love the Italian people with all my heart
Dunque adesso maintenant I earn a thousand pounds in a year or I earn
two thousand «
He looked down at the ground his voice tailing off into silence
Gudrun looked at his fine thin shiny skin reddishbrown from the sun
drawn tight over his full temples and at his thin hair and at the thick
coarse brushlike moustache cut short about his mobile rather shapeless
mouth
»How old are you« she asked
He looked up at her with his full elfin eyes startled
»Wie alt« he repeated And he hesitated It was evidently one of his
reticencies
»How old are you« he replied without answering
»I am twentysix« she answered
»Twentysix« he repeated looking into her eyes He paused Then he said
»Und Ihr Herr Gemahl wie alt is er«
»Who« asked Gudrun
»Your husband« said Ursula with a certain irony
»I havent got a husband« said Gudrun in English In German she answered
»He is thirtyone«
But Loerke was watching closely with his uncanny full suspicious eyes
Something in Gudrun seemed to accord with him He was really like one of the
little people who have no soul who has found his mate in a human being But he
suffered in his discovery She too was fascinated by him fascinated as if some
strange creature a rabbit or a bat or a brown seal had begun to talk to her
But also she knew what he was unconscious of his tremendous power of
understanding of apprehending her living motion He did not know his own power
He did not know how with his full submerged watchful eyes he could look into
her and see her what she was see her secrets He would only want her to be
herself he knew her verily with a subconscious sinister knowledge devoid of
illusions and hopes
To Gudrun there was in Loerke the rock bottom of all life Everybody else
had their illusion must have their illusion their before and after But he
with a perfect stoicism did without any before and after dispensed with all
illusion He did not deceive himself in the last issue In the last issue he
cared about nothing he was troubled about nothing he made not the slightest
attempt to be at one with anything He existed a pure unconnected will stoical
and momentaneous There was only his work
It was curious too how his poverty the degradation of his earlier life
attracted her There was something insipid and tasteless to her in the idea of a
gentleman a man who had gone the usual course through school and university A
certain violent sympathy however came up in her for this mudchild He seemed
to be the very stuff of the underworld of life There was no going beyond him
Ursula too was attracted by Loerke In both sisters he commanded a certain
homage But there were moments when to Ursula he seemed indescribably inferior
false a vulgarism
Both Birkin and Gerald disliked him Gerald ignoring him with some contempt
Birkin exasperated
»What do the women find so impressive in that little brat« Gerald asked
»God alone knows« replied Birkin »unless its some sort of appeal he makes
to them which flatters them and has such a power over them«
Gerald looked up in surprise
»Does he make an appeal to them« he asked
»Oh yes« replied Birkin »He is the perfectly subjected being existing
almost like a criminal And the women rush towards that like a current of air
towards a vacuum«
»Funny they should rush to that« said Gerald
»Makes one mad too« said Birkin »But he has the fascination of pity and
repulsion for them a little obscene monster of the darkness that he is«
Gerald stood still suspended in thought
»What do women want at the bottom« he asked
Birkin shrugged his shoulders
»God knows« he said »Some satisfaction in basic repulsion it seems to me
They seem to creep down some ghastly tunnel of darkness and will never be
satisfied till theyve come to the end«
Gerald looked out into the mist of fine snow that was blowing by Everywhere
was blind today horribly blind
»And what is the end« he asked
Birkin shook his head
»Ive not got there yet so I dont know Ask Loerke hes pretty near He
is a good many stages farther than either you or I can go«
»Yes but stages farther in what« cried Gerald irritated
Birkin sighed and gathered his brows into a knot of anger
»Stages farther in social hatred« he said »He lives like a rat in the
river of corruption just where it falls over into the bottomless pit Hes
farther on than we are He hates the ideal more acutely He hates the ideal
utterly yet it still dominates him I expect he is a Jew or part Jewish«
»Probably« said Gerald
»He is a gnawing little negation gnawing at the roots of life«
»But why does anybody care about him« cried Gerald
»Because they hate the ideal also in their souls They want to explore the
sewers and hes the wizard rat that swims ahead«
Still Gerald stood and stared at the blind haze of snow outside
»I dont understand your terms really« he said in a flat doomed voice
»But it sounds a rum sort of desire«
»I suppose we want the same« said Birkin »Only we want to take a quick
jump downwards in a sort of ecstasy and he ebbs with the stream the sewer
stream«
Meanwhile Gudrun and Ursula waited for the next opportunity to talk to
Loerke It was no use beginning when the men were there Then they could get
into no touch with the isolated little sculptor He had to be alone with them
And he preferred Ursula to be there as a sort of transmitter to Gudrun
»Do you do nothing but architectural sculpture« Gudrun asked him one
evening
»Not now« he replied »I have done all sorts except portraits I never
did portraits But other things «
»What kind of things« asked Gudrun
He paused a moment then rose and went out of the room He returned almost
immediately with a little roll of paper which he handed to her She unrolled
it It was a photogravure reproduction of a statuette signed F Loerke
»That is quite an early thing not mechanical« he said »more popular«
The statuette was of a naked girl small finely made sitting on a great
naked horse The girl was young and tender a mere bud She was sitting sideways
on the horse her face in her hands as if in shame and grief in a little
abandon Her hair which was short and must be flaxen fell forward divided
half covering her hands
Her limbs were young and tender Her legs scarcely formed yet the legs of
a maiden just passing towards cruel womanhood dangled childishly over the side
of the powerful horse pathetically the small feet folded one over the other
as if to hide But there was no hiding There she was exposed naked on the naked
flank of the horse
The horse stood stock still stretched in a kind of start It was a massive
magnificent stallion rigid with pentup power
Its neck was arched and terrible like a sickle its flanks were pressed
back rigid with power
Gudrun went pale and a darkness came over her eyes like shame she looked
up with a certain supplication almost slavelike He glanced at her and jerked
his head a little
»How big is it« she asked in a toneless voice persisting in appearing
casual and unaffected
»How big« he replied glancing again at her »Without pedestal so high«
he measured with his hand »with pedestal so «
He looked at her steadily There was a little brusque turgid contempt for
her in his swift gesture and she seemed to cringe a little
»And what is it done in« she asked throwing back her head and looking at
him with affected coldness
He still gazed at her steadily and his dominance was not shaken
»Bronze green bronze«
»Green bronze« repeated Gudrun coldly accepting his challenge She was
thinking of the slender immature tender limbs of the girl smooth and cold in
green bronze
»Yes beautiful« she murmured looking up at him with a certain dark
homage
He closed his eyes and looked aside triumphant
»Why« said Ursula »did you make the horse so stiff It is as stiff as a
block«
»Stiff« he repeated in arms at once
»Yes Look how stock and stupid and brutal it is Horses are sensitive
quite delicate and sensitive really«
He raised his shoulders spread his hands in a shrug of slow indifference
as much as to inform her she was an amateur and an impertinent nobody
»Wissen Sie« he said with an insulting patience and condescension in his
voice »that horse is a certain form part of a whole form It is part of a work
of art a piece of form It is not a picture of a friendly horse to which you
give a lump of sugar do you see it is part of a work of art it has no
relation to anything outside that work of art«
Ursula angry at being treated quite so insultingly de haut en bas from the
height of esoteric art to the depth of general exoteric amateurism replied
hotly flushing and lifting her face
»But it is a picture of a horse nevertheless«
He lifted his shoulders in another shrug
»As you like it is not a picture of a cow certainly«
Here Gudrun broke in flushed and brilliant anxious to avoid any more of
this any more of Ursulas foolish persistence in giving herself away
»What do you mean by it is a picture of a horse« she cried at her sister
»What do you mean by a horse You mean an idea you have in your head and which
you want to see represented There is another idea altogether quite another
idea Call it a horse if you like or say it is not a horse I have just as much
right to say that your horse isnt a horse that it is a falsity of your own
makeup«
Ursula wavered baffled Then her words came
»But why does he have this idea of a horse« she said »I know it is his
idea I know it is a picture of himself really «
Loerke snorted with rage
»A picture of myself« he repeated in derision »Wissen sie gnädige Frau
that is a Kunstwerk a work of art It is a work of art it is a picture of
nothing of absolutely nothing It has nothing to do with anything but itself,
it has no relation with the everyday world of this and other there is no
connection between them absolutely none they are two different and distinct
planes of existence, and to translate one into the other is worse than foolish
it is a darkening of all counsel a making confusion everywhere Do you see you
must not confuse the relative work of action with the absolute world of art
That you must not do«
»That is quite true« cried Gudrun let loose in a sort of rhapsody »The
two things are quite and permanently apart they have nothing to do with one
another. I and my art they have nothing to do with each other My art stands in
another world I am in this world«
Her face was flushed and transfigured Loerke who was sitting with his head
ducked like some creature at bay looked up at her swiftly almost furtively
and murmured
»Ja so ist es so ist es«
Ursula was silent after this outburst She was furious She wanted to poke a
hole into them both
»It isnt a word of it true, of all this harangue you have made me« she
replied flatly »The horse is a picture of your own stock stupid brutality and
the girl was a girl you loved and tortured and then ignored«
He looked up at her with a small smile of contempt in his eyes He would not
trouble to answer this last charge
Gudrun too was silent in exasperated contempt Ursula was such an
insufferable outsider rushing in where angels would fear to tread But then
fools must be suffered if not gladly
But Ursula was persistent too
»As for your world of art and your world of reality« she replied »you have
to separate the two because you cant bear to know what you are You cant bear
to realise what a stock stiff hidebound brutality you are really so you say
its the world of art The world of art is only the truth about the real world
thats all but you are too far gone to see it«
She was white and trembling intent Gudrun and Loerke sat in stiff dislike
of her Gerald too who had come up in the beginning of the speech stood
looking at her in complete disapproval and opposition He felt she was
undignified she put a sort of vulgarity over the esotericism which gave man his
last distinction He joined his forces with the other two They all three wanted
her to go away But she sat on in silence her soul weeping throbbing
violently her fingers twisting her handkerchief
The others maintained a dead silence letting the display of Ursulas
obtrusiveness pass by Then Gudrun asked in a voice that was quite cool and
casual as if resuming a casual conversation
»Was the girl a model«
»Nein sie war kein Modell Sie war eine kleine Malschülerin«
»An art student« replied Gudrun
And how the situation revealed itself to her She saw the girl art student
unformed and of pernicious recklessness too young her straight flaxen hair cut
short hanging just into her neck curving inwards slightly because it was
rather thick and Loerke the wellknown mastersculptor and the girl probably
well brought up and of good family thinking herself so great to be his
mistress Oh how well she knew the common callousness of it all Dresden
Paris or London what did it matter She knew it
»Where is she now« Ursula asked
Loerke raised his shoulders to convey his complete ignorance and
indifference
»That is already six years ago« he said »she will be twentythree years
old no more good«
Gerald had picked up the picture and was looking at it It attracted him
also He saw on the pedestal that the piece was called Lady Godiva
»But this isnt Lady Godiva« he said smiling goodhumouredly »She was the
middleaged wife of some Earl or other who covered herself with her long hair«
»A la Maud Allan« said Gudrun with a mocking grimace
»Why Maud Allan« he replied »Isnt it so I always thought the legend was
that«
»Yes Gerald dear Im quite sure youve got the legend perfectly«
She was laughing at him with a little mockcaressive contempt
»To be sure Id rather see the woman than the hair« he laughed in return
»Wouldnt you just« mocked Gudrun
Ursula rose and went away leaving the three together
Gudrun took the picture again from Gerald and sat looking at it closely
»Of course« she said turning to tease Loerke now »you understood your
little Malschülerin«
He raised his eyebrows and his shoulders in a complacent shrug
»The little girl« asked Gerald pointing to the figure
Gudrun was sitting with the picture in her lap She looked up at Gerald
full into his eyes so that he seemed to be blinded
»Didnt he understand her« she said to Gerald in a slightly mocking
humorous playfulness »Youve only to look at the feet arent they darling so
pretty and tender oh theyre really wonderful they are really «
She lifted her eyes slowly with a hot flaming look into Loerkes eyes His
soul was filled with her burning recognition he seemed to grow more uppish and
lordly
Gerald looked at the small sculptured feet They were turned together half
covering each other in pathetic shyness and fear He looked at them a long time
fascinated Then in some pain he put the picture away from him He felt full
of barrenness
»What was her name« Gudrun asked Loerke
»Annette von Weck« Loerke replied reminiscent »Ja sie war hübsch She
was pretty but she was tiresome She was a nuisance not for a minute would
she keep still not until Id slapped her hard and made her cry then shed
sit for five minutes«
He was thinking over the work his work the all important to him
»Did you really slap her« asked Gudrun coolly
He glanced back at her reading her challenge
»Yes I did« he said nonchalant »harder than I have ever beat anything in
my life I had to I had to It was the only way I got the work done«
Gudrun watched him with large darkfilled eyes for some moments She seemed
to be considering his very soul Then she looked down in silence
»Why did you have such a young Godiva then« asked Gerald »She is so small
besides on the horse not big enough for it such a child«
A queer spasm went over Loerkes face
»Yes« he said »I dont like them any bigger any older Then they are
beautiful at sixteen seventeen eighteen after that they are no use to me«
There was a moments pause
»Why not« asked Gerald
Loerke shrugged his shoulders
»I dont find them interesting or beautiful they are no good to me for
my work«
»Do you mean to say a woman isnt beautiful after she is twenty« asked
Gerald
»For me no Before twenty she is small and fresh and tender and slight
After that let her be what she likes she has nothing for me The Venus of
Milo is a bourgeoise so are they all«
»And you dont care for women at all after twenty« asked Gerald
»They are no good to me they are of no use in my art« Loerke repeated
impatiently »I dont find them beautiful«
»You are an epicure« said Gerald with a slight sarcastic laugh
»And what about men« asked Gudrun suddenly
»Yes they are good at all ages« replied Loerke »A man should be big and
powerful whether he is old or young is of no account so he has the size
something of massiveness and and stupid form«
Ursula went out alone into the world of pure, new snow But the dazzling
whiteness seemed to beat upon her till it hurt her she felt the cold was slowly
strangling her soul Her head felt dazed and numb
Suddenly she wanted to go away It occurred to her like a miracle that she
might go away into another world She had felt so doomed up here in the eternal
snow as if there were no beyond
Now suddenly as by a miracle she remembered that away beyond below her
lay the dark fruitful earth that towards the south there were stretches of land
dark with orange trees and cypress grey with olives that ilex trees lifted
wonderful plumy tufts in shadow against a blue sky Miracle of miracles this
utterly silent frozen world of the mountaintops was not universal One might
leave it and have done with it One might go away
She wanted to realise the miracle at once She wanted at this instant to
have done with the snow world the terrible static icebuilt mountaintops She
wanted to see the dark earth to smell its earthy fecundity to see the patient
wintry vegetation to feel the sunshine touch a response in the buds
She went back gladly to the house full of hope Birkin was reading lying
in bed
»Rupert« she said bursting in on him »I want to go away«
He looked up at her slowly
»Do you« he replied mildly
She sat by him and put her arms round his neck It surprised her that he was
so little surprised
»Dont you« she asked troubled
»I hadnt thought about it« he said »But Im sure I do«
She sat up suddenly erect
»I hate it« she said »I hate the snow and the unnaturalness of it the
unnatural light it throws on everybody the ghastly glamour the unnatural
feelings it makes everybody have«
He lay still and laughed meditating
»Well« he said »we can go away we can go tomorrow Well go tomorrow
to Verona and find Romeo and Juliet and sit in the amphitheatre shall we«
Suddenly she hid her face against his shoulder with perplexity and shyness
He lay so untrammelled
»Yes« she said softly filled with relief She felt her soul had new wings
now he was so uncaring »I shall love to be Romeo and Juliet« she said »My
love«
»Though a fearfully cold wind blows in Verona« he said »from out of the
Alps We shall have the smell of the snow in our noses«
She sat up and looked at him
»Are you glad to go« she asked troubled
His eyes were inscrutable and laughing She hid her face against his neck
clinging close to him pleading
»Dont laugh at me dont laugh at me«
»Why hows that« he laughed putting his arms round her
»Because I dont want to be laughed at« she whispered
He laughed more as he kissed her delicate finely perfumed hair
»Do you love me« she whispered in wild seriousness
»Yes« he answered laughing
Suddenly she lifted her mouth to be kissed Her lips were taut and quivering
and strenuous his were soft deep and delicate He waited a few moments in the
kiss Then a shade of sadness went over his soul
»Your mouth is so hard« he said in faint reproach
»And yours is so soft and nice« she said gladly
»But why do you always grip your lips« he asked regretful
»Never mind« she said swiftly »It is my way«
She knew he loved her she was sure of him Yet she could not let go a
certain hold over herself she could not bear him to question her She gave
herself up in delight to being loved by him She knew that in spite of his joy
when she abandoned herself he was a little bit saddened too She could give
herself up to his activity But she could not be herself she dared not come
forth quite nakedly to his nakedness abandoning all adjustment lapsing in pure
faith with him She abandoned herself to him or she took hold of him and
gathered her joy of him And she enjoyed him fully But they were never quite
together at the same moment one was always a little left out Nevertheless she
was glad in hope glorious and free full of life and liberty And he was still
and soft and patient for the time
They made their preparations to leave the next day First they went to
Gudruns room where she and Gerald were just dressed ready for the evening
indoors
»Prune« said Ursula »I think we shall go away tomorrow I cant stand the
snow any more It hurts my skin and my soul«
»Does it really hurt your soul Ursula« asked Gudrun in some surprise »I
cant believe quite it hurts your skin it is terrible But I thought it was
admirable for the soul«
»No not for mine It just injures it« said Ursula
»Really« cried Gudrun
There was a silence in the room And Ursula and Birkin could feel that
Gudrun and Gerald were relieved by their going
»You will go south« said Gerald a little ring of uneasiness in his voice
»Yes« said Birkin turning away There was a queer indefinable hostility
between the two men lately Birkin was on the whole dim and indifferent
drifting along in a dim easy flow unnoticing and patient since he came
abroad whilst Gerald on the other hand was intense and gripped into white
light agonistes The two men revoked one another.
Gerald and Gudrun were very kind to the two who were departing solicitous
for their welfare as if they were two children Gudrun came to Ursulas bedroom
with three pairs of the coloured stockings for which she was notorious and she
threw them on the bed But these were thick silk stockings vermilion
cornflower blue and grey bought in Paris The grey ones were knitted seamless
and heavy Ursula was in raptures She knew Gudrun must be feeling very loving
to give away such treasures
»I cant take them from you Prune« she cried »I cant possibly deprive
you of them the jewels«
»Arent they jewels« cried Gudrun eyeing her gifts with an envious eye »
Arent they real lambs«
»Yes you must keep them« said Ursula
»I dont want them Ive got three more pairs I want you to keep them I
want you to have them Theyre yours there «
And with trembling excited hands she put the coveted stockings under
Ursulas pillow
»One gets the greatest joy of all out of really lovely stockings« said
Ursula
»One does« replied Gudrun »the greatest joy of all«
And she sat down in the chair It was evident she had come for a last talk
Ursula not knowing what she wanted waited in silence
»Do you feel Ursula« Gudrun began rather sceptically »that you are
goingawayforever nevertoreturn sort of thing«
»Oh we shall come back« said Ursula »It isnt a question of train
journeys«
»Yes I know But spiritually so to speak you are going away from us all«
Ursula quivered
»I dont know a bit what is going to happen« she said »I only know we are
going somewhere«
Gudrun waited
»And you are glad« she asked
Ursula meditated for a moment
»I believe I am very glad« she replied
But Gudrun read the unconscious brightness on her sisters face rather than
the uncertain tones of her speech
»But dont you think youll want the old connection with the world father
and the rest of us and all that it means England and the world of thought
dont you think youll need that really to make a world«
Ursula was silent trying to imagine
»I think« she said at length involuntarily »that Rupert is right one
wants a new space to be in and one falls away from the old«
Gudrun watched her sister with impassive face and steady eyes
»One wants a new space to be in I quite agree« she said »But I think that
a new world is a development from this world and that to isolate oneself with
one other person isnt to find a new world at all but only to secure oneself
in ones illusions«
Ursula looked out of the window In her soul she began to wrestle and she
was frightened She was always frightened of words because she knew that mere
wordforce could always make her believe what she did not believe
»Perhaps« she said full of mistrust of herself and everybody »But« she
added »I do think that one cant have anything new whilst one cares for the old
do you know what I mean even fighting the old is belonging to it I know
one is tempted to stop with the world just to fight it But then it isnt worth
it«
Gudrun considered herself
»Yes« she said »In a way one is of the world if one lives in it But
isnt it really an illusion to think you can get out of it After all a cottage
in the Abruzzi or wherever it may be isnt a new world No the only thing to
do with the world is to see it through«
Ursula looked away She was so frightened of argument
»But there can be something else cant there« she said »One can see it
through in ones soul long enough before it sees itself through in actuality
And then when one has seen ones soul one is something else«
»Can one see it through in ones soul« asked Gudrun »If you mean that you
can see to the end of what will happen I dont agree I really cant agree And
anyhow you cant suddenly fly off on to a new planet because you think you can
see to the end of this«
Ursula suddenly straightened herself
»Yes« she said »Yes one knows One has no more connections here One has
a sort of other self that belongs to a new planet not to this Youve got to
hop off«
Gudrun reflected for a few moments Then a smile of ridicule almost of
contempt came over her face
»And what will happen when you find yourself in space?« she cried in
derision »After all the great ideas of the world are the same there You above
everybody cant get away from the fact that love for instance is the supreme
thing in space as well as on earth«
»No« said Ursula »it isnt Love is too human and little I believe in
something inhuman of which love is only a little part I believe what we must
fulfil comes out of the unknown to us and it is something infinitely more than
love It isnt so merely human«
Gudrun looked at Ursula with steady balancing eyes She admired and
despised her sister so much both Then suddenly she averted her face saying
coldly uglily
»Well Ive got no further than love yet«
Over Ursulas mind flashed the thought »Because you never have loved you
cant get beyond it«
Gudrun rose came over to Ursula and put her arm round her neck
»Go and find your new world dear« she said her voice clanging with false
benignity »After all the happiest voyage is the quest of Ruperts Blessed
Isles«
Her arm rested round Ursulas neck her fingers on Ursulas cheek for a few
moments Ursula was supremely uncomfortable meanwhile There was an insult in
Gudruns protective patronage that was really too hurting Feeling her sisters
resistance Gudrun drew awkwardly away turned over the pillow and disclosed
the stockings again
»Ha ha« she laughed rather hollowly »How we do talk indeed new worlds
and old «
And they passed to the familiar worldly subjects
Gerald and Birkin had walked on ahead waiting for the sledge to overtake
them conveying the departing guests
»How much longer will you stay here« asked Birkin glancing up at Geralds
very red almost blank face
»Oh I cant say« Gerald replied »Till we get tired of it«
»Youre not afraid of the snow melting first« asked Birkin
Gerald laughed
»Does it melt« he said
»Things are all right with you then« said Birkin
Gerald screwed up his eyes a little
»All right« he said »I never know what those common words mean All right
and all wrong dont they become synonymous somewhere«
»Yes I suppose How about going back« asked Birkin
»Oh I dont know We may never get back I dont look before and after«
said Gerald
»Nor pine for what is not« said Birkin
Gerald looked into the distance with the smallpupilled abstract eyes of a
hawk
»No Theres something final about this And Gudrun seems like the end to
me I dont know but she seems so soft her skin like silk her arms heavy and
soft And it withers my consciousness somehow it burns the pith of my mind«
He went on a few paces staring ahead his eyes fixed looking like a mask used
in ghastly religions of the barbarians »It blasts your souls eye« he said
»and leaves you sightless Yet you want to be sightless you want to be blasted
you dont want it any different«
He was speaking as if in a trance verbal and blank Then suddenly he braced
himself up with a kind of rhapsody and looked at Birkin with vindictive cowed
eyes saying
»Do you know what it is to suffer when you are with a woman Shes so
beautiful so perfect you find her so good it tears you like a silk and every
stroke and bit cuts hot ha that perfection when you blast yourself you
blast yourself And then « he stopped on the snow and suddenly opened his
clenched hands »its nothing your brain might have gone charred as rags
and « he looked round into the air with a queer histrionic movement »its
blasting you understand what I mean it is a great experience something
final and then youre shrivelled as if struck by electricity« He walked on
in silence It seemed like bragging but like a man in extremity bragging
truthfully
»Of course« he resumed »I wouldnt not have had it Its a complete
experience. And shes a wonderful woman But how I hate her somewhere Its
curious «
Birkin looked at him at his strange scarcely conscious face Gerald seemed
blank before his own words
»But youve had enough now« said Birkin »You have had your experience Why
work on an old wound«
»Oh« said Gerald »I dont know Its not finished «
And the two walked on
»Ive loved you as well as Gudrun dont forget« said Birkin bitterly
Gerald looked at him strangely abstractedly
»Have you« he said with icy scepticism »Or do you think you have« He was
hardly responsible for what he said
The sledge came Gudrun dismounted and they all made their farewell They
wanted to go apart all of them Birkin took his place and the sledge drove
away leaving Gudrun and Gerald standing on the snow waving Something froze
Birkins heart seeing them standing there in the isolation of the snow growing
smaller and more isolated
Chapter XXX
Snowed Up
When Ursula and Birkin were gone Gudrun felt herself free in her contest with
Gerald As they grew more used to each other he seemed to press upon her more
and more At first she could manage him so that her own will was always left
free But very soon he began to ignore her female tactics he dropped his
respect for her whims and her privacies he began to exert his own will blindly
without submitting to hers
Already a vital conflict had set in which frightened them both But he was
alone whilst already she had begun to cast round for external resource
When Ursula had gone Gudrun felt her own existence had become stark and
elemental She went and crouched alone in her bedroom looking out of the window
at the big flashing stars In front was the faint shadow of the mountainknot
That was the pivot She felt strange and inevitable as if she were centred upon
the pivot of all existence there was no further reality
Presently Gerald opened the door She knew he would not be long before he
came She was rarely alone he pressed upon her like a frost deadening her
»Are you alone in the dark« he said And she could tell by his tone he
resented it he resented this isolation she had drawn round herself Yet
feeling static and inevitable she was kind towards him
»Would you like to light the candle« she asked
He did not answer but came and stood behind her in the darkness
»Look« she said »at that lovely star up there Do you know its name«
He crouched beside her to look through the low window
»No« he said »It is very fine«
»Isnt it beautiful Do you notice how it darts different coloured fires
it flashes really superbly «
They remained in silence With a mute heavy gesture she put her hand on his
knee and took his hand
»Are you regretting Ursula« he asked
»No not at all« she said Then in a slow mood she asked
»How much do you love me«
He stiffened himself further against her
»How much do you think I do« he asked
»I dont know« she replied
»But what is your opinion« he asked
There was a pause At length in the darkness came her voice hard and
indifferent
»Very little indeed« she said coldly almost flippant
His heart went icy at the sound of her voice
»Why dont I love you« he asked as if admitting the truth of her
accusation yet hating her for it
»I dont know why you dont Ive been good to you You were in a fearful
state when you came to me«
Her heart was beating to suffocate her yet she was strong and unrelenting
»When was I in a fearful state« he asked
»When you first came to me I had to take pity on you But it was never
love«
It was that statement It was never love which sounded in his ears with
madness
»Why must you repeat it so often that there is no love« he said in a voice
strangled with rage
»Well you dont think you love do you« she asked
He was silent with cold passion of anger
»You dont think you can love me do you« she repeated almost with a sneer
»No« he said
»You know you never have loved me dont you«
»I dont know what you mean by the word love« he replied
»Yes you do You know all right that you have never loved me Have you do
you think«
»No« he said prompted by some barren spirit of truthfulness and obstinacy
»And you never will love me« she said finally »will you«
There was a diabolic coldness in her too much to bear
»No« he said
»Then« she replied »what have you against me«
He was silent in cold frightened rage and despair »If only I could kill
her« his heart was whispering repeatedly »If only I could kill her I should
be free«
It seemed to him that death was the only severing of this Gordian knot
»Why do you torture me« he said
She flung her arms round his neck
»Ah I dont want to torture you« she said pityingly as if she were
comforting a child The impertinence made his veins go cold he was insensible
She held her arms round his neck in a triumph of pity And her pity for him was
as cold as stone its deepest motive was hate of him and fear of his power over
her which she must always counterfoil
»Say you love me« she pleaded »Say you will love me for ever wont you
wont you«
But it was her voice only that coaxed him Her senses were entirely apart
from him cold and destructive of him It was her overbearing will that
insisted
»Wont you say youll love me always« she coaxed »Say it even if it isnt
true say it Gerald do«
»I will love you always« he repeated in real agony forcing the words out
She gave him a quick kiss
»Fancy your actually having said it« she said with a touch of raillery
He stood as if he had been beaten
»Try to love me a little more and to want me a little less« she said in a
half contemptuous half coaxing tone
The darkness seemed to be swaying in waves across his mind great waves of
darkness plunging across his mind It seemed to him he was degraded at the very
quick made of no account
»You mean you dont want me« he said
»You are so insistent and there is so little grace in you so little
fineness You are so crude You break me you only waste me it is horrible to
me«
»Horrible to you« he repeated
»Yes Dont you think I might have a room to myself now Ursula has gone
You can say you want a dressingroom«
»You do as you like you can leave altogether if you like« he managed to
articulate
»Yes I know that« she replied »So can you You can leave me whenever you
like without notice even«
The great tides of darkness were swinging across his mind he could hardly
stand upright A terrible weariness overcame him he felt he must lie on the
floor Dropping off his clothes he got into bed and lay like a man suddenly
overcome by drunkenness the darkness lifting and plunging as if he were lying
upon a black giddy sea He lay still in this strange horrific reeling for some
time purely unconscious
At length she slipped from her own bed and came over to him He remained
rigid his back to her He was all but unconscious
She put her arms round his terrifying insentient body and laid her cheek
against his hard shoulder
»Gerald« she whispered »Gerald«
There was no change in him She caught him against her She pressed her
breasts against his shoulders she kissed his shoulder through the sleeping
jacket Her mind wondered over his rigid unliving body She was bewildered
and insistent only her will was set for him to speak to her
»Gerald my dear« she whispered bending over him kissing his ear
Her warm breath playing flying rhythmically over his ear seemed to relax
the tension She could feel his body gradually relaxing a little losing its
terrifying unnatural rigidity Her hands clutched his limbs his muscles going
over him spasmodically
The hot blood began to flow again through his veins his limbs relaxed
»Turn round to me« she whispered forlorn with insistence and triumph
So at last he was given again warm and flexible He turned and gathered her
in his arms And feeling her soft against him so perfectly and wondrously soft
and recipient his arms tightened on her She was as if crushed powerless in
him His brain seemed hard and invincible now like a jewel there was no
resisting him
His passion was awful to her tense and ghastly and impersonal like a
destruction ultimate She felt it would kill her She was being killed
»My God my God« she cried in anguish in his embrace feeling her life
being killed within her And when he was kissing her soothing her her breath
came slowly as if she were really spent dying
»Shall I die shall I die« she repeated to herself
And in the night and in him there was no answer to the question
And yet next day the fragment of her which was not destroyed remained
intact and hostile she did not go away she remained to finish the holiday
admitting nothing He scarcely ever left her alone but followed her like a
shadow he was like a doom upon her a continual thou shalt thou shalt not
Sometimes it was he who seemed strongest whilst she was almost gone creeping
near the earth like a spent wind sometimes it was the reverse But always it
was this eternal seesaw one destroyed that the other might exist one ratified
because the other was nulled
»In the end« she said to herself »I shall go away from him«
»I can be free of her« he said to himself in his paroxysms of suffering
And he set himself to be free He even prepared to go away to leave her in
the lurch But for the first time there was a flaw in his will
»Where shall I go« he asked himself
»Cant you be selfsufficient« he replied to himself putting himself upon
his pride
»Selfsufficient« he repeated
It seemed to him that Gudrun was sufficient unto herself closed round and
completed like a thing in a case In the calm static reason of his soul he
recognised this and admitted it was her right to be closed round upon herself
selfcomplete without desire He realised it he admitted it it only needed
one last effort on his own part to win for himself the same completeness He
knew that it only needed one convulsion of his will for him to be able to turn
upon himself also to close upon himself as a stone fixes upon itself, and is
impervious selfcompleted a thing isolated
This knowledge threw him into a terrible chaos Because however much he
might mentally will to be immune and selfcomplete the desire for this state
was lacking and he could not create it He could see that to exist at all he
must be perfectly free of Gudrun leave her if she wanted to be left demand
nothing of her have no claim upon her
But then to have no claim upon her he must stand by himself in sheer
nothingness And his brain turned to nought at the idea It was a state of
nothingness On the other hand he might give in and fawn to her Or finally
he might kill her Or he might become just indifferent purposeless dissipated
momentaneous But his nature was too serious not gay enough or subtle enough
for mocking licentiousness
A strange rent had been torn in him like a victim that is torn open and
given to the heavens so he had been torn apart and given to Gudrun How should
he close again This wound this strange infinitelysensitive opening of his
soul where he was exposed like an open flower to all the universe and in
which he was given to his complement the other the unknown this wound this
disclosure this unfolding of his own covering leaving him incomplete limited
unfinished like an open flower under the sky this was his cruellest joy Why
then should he forego it Why should he close up and become impervious immune
like a partial thing in a sheath when he had broken forth like a seed that has
germinated to issue forth in being embracing the unrealised heavens
He would keep the unfinished bliss of his own yearning even through the
torture she inflicted upon him A strange obstinacy possessed him He would not
go away from her whatever she said or did A strange deathly yearning carried
him along with her She was the determinating influence of his very being
though she treated him with contempt repeated rebuffs and denials still he
would never be gone since in being near her even he felt the quickening the
going forth in him the release the knowledge of his own limitation and the
magic of the promise as well as the mystery of his own destruction and
annihilation
She tortured the open heart of him even as he turned to her And she was
tortured herself It may have been her will was stronger She felt with horror
as if he tore at the bud of her heart tore it open like an irreverent
persistent being Like a boy who pulls off a flys wings or tears open a bud to
see what is in the flower he tore at her privacy at her very life he would
destroy her as an immature bud torn open is destroyed
She might open towards him a long while hence in her dreams when she was
a pure spirit But now she was not to be violated and ruined She closed against
him fiercely
They climbed together at evening up the high slope to see the sun set In
the finely breathing keen wind they stood and watched the yellow sun sink in
crimson and disappear Then in the east the peaks and ridges glowed with living
rose incandescent like immortal flowers against a brownpurple sky a miracle
whilst down below the world was a bluish shadow and above like an
annunciation hovered a rosy transport in midair
To her it was so beautiful it was a delirium she wanted to gather the
glowing eternal peaks to her breast and die He saw them saw they were
beautiful But there arose no clamour in his breast only a bitterness that was
visionary in itself. He wished the peaks were grey and unbeautiful so that she
should not get her support from them Why did she betray the two of them so
terribly in embracing the glow of the evening Why did she leave him standing
there with the icewind blowing through his heart like death to gratify
herself among the rosy snowtips
»What does the twilight matter« he said »Why do you grovel before it Is
it so important to you«
She winced in violation and in fury
»Go away« she cried »and leave me to it It is beautiful beautiful« she
sang in strange rhapsodic tones »It is the most beautiful thing I have ever
seen in my life Dont try to come between it and me Take yourself away you
are out of place «
He stood back a little and left her standing there statuelike
transported into the mystic glowing east Already the rose was fading large
white stars were flashing out He waited He would forego everything but the
yearning
»That was the most perfect thing I have ever seen« she said in cold brutal
tones when at last she turned round to him »It amazes me that you should want
to destroy it If you cant see it yourself why try to debar me« But in
reality he had destroyed it for her she was straining after a dead effect
»One day« he said softly looking up at her »I shall destroy you as you
stand looking at the sunset because you are such a liar«
There was a soft voluptuous promise to himself in the words She was
chilled but arrogant
»Ha« she said »I am not afraid of your threats«
She denied herself to him she kept her room rigidly private to herself But
he waited on in a curious patience belonging to his yearning for her
»In the end« he said to himself with real voluptuous promise »when it
reaches that point I shall do away with her« And he trembled delicately in
every limb in anticipation as he trembled in his most violent accesses of
passionate approach to her trembling with too much desire
She had a curious sort of allegiance with Loerke all the while now
something insidious and traitorous Gerald knew of it But in the unnatural
state of patience and the unwillingness to harden himself against her in which
he found himself he took no notice although her soft kindliness to the other
man whom he hated as a noxious insect made him shiver again with an access of
the strange shuddering that came over him repeatedly
He left her alone only when he went skiing a sport he loved and which she
did not practice Then he seemed to sweep out of life to be a projectile into
the beyond And often when he went away she talked to the little German
sculptor They had an invariable topic in their art
They were almost of the same ideas He hated Mestrovic was not satisfied
with the Futurists he liked the West African wooden figures the Aztec art
Mexican and Central American He saw the grotesque and a curious sort of
mechanical motion intoxicated him a confusion in nature. They had a curious
game with each other Gudrun and Loerke of infinite suggestivity strange and
leering as if they had some esoteric understanding of life that they alone
were initiated into the fearful central secrets that the world dared not know
Their whole correspondence was in a strange barely comprehensible suggestivity
they kindled themselves at the subtle lust of the Egyptians or the Mexicans The
whole game was one of subtle intersuggestivity and they wanted to keep it on
the plane of suggestion From their verbal and physical nuances they got the
highest satisfaction in the nerves from a queer interchange of halfsuggested
ideas looks expressions and gestures which were quite intolerable though
incomprehensible to Gerald He had no terms in which to think of their
commerce his terms were much too gross
The suggestion of primitive art was their refuge and the inner mysteries of
sensation their object of worship Art and Life were to them the Reality and the
Unreality
»Of course« said Gudrun »life doesnt really matter it is ones art
which is central What one does in ones life has peu de rapport it doesnt
signify much«
»Yes that is so exactly« replied the sculptor »What one does in ones
art that is the breath of ones being What one does in ones life that is a
bagatelle for the outsiders to fuss about«
It was curious what a sense of elation and freedom Gudrun found in this
communication She felt established for ever Of course Gerald was bagatelle
Love was one of the temporal things in her life except in so far as she was an
artist She thought of Cleopatra Cleopatra must have been an artist she
reaped the essential from a man she harvested the ultimate sensation and threw
away the husk and Mary Stuart and the great Rachel panting with her lovers
after the theatre these were the exoteric exponents of love After all what
was the lover but fuel for the transport of this subtle knowledge for a female
art the art of pure, perfect knowledge in sensuous understanding
One evening Gerald was arguing with Loerke about Italy and Tripoli The
Englishman was in a strange inflammable state the German was excited It was a
contest of words but it meant a conflict of spirit between the two men And all
the while Gudrun could see in Gerald an arrogant English contempt for a
foreigner Although Gerald was quivering his eyes flashing his face flushed
in his argument there was a brusqueness a savage contempt in his manner that
made Gudruns blood flare up and made Loerke keen and mortified For Gerald
came down like a sledgehammer with his assertions anything the little German
said was merely contemptible rubbish
At last Loerke turned to Gudrun raising his hands in helpless irony a
shrug of ironical dismissal something appealing and childlike
»Sehen sie gnädige Frau « he began
»Bitte sagen Sie nicht immer gnädige Frau« cried Gudrun her eyes
flashing her cheeks burning She looked like a vivid Medusa Her voice was loud
and clamorous the other people in the room were startled
»Please dont call me Mrs Crich« she cried aloud
The name in Loerkes mouth particularly had been an intolerable
humiliation and constraint upon her these many days
The two men looked at her in amazement Gerald went white at the
cheekbones
»What shall I say then« asked Loerke with soft mocking insinuation
»Sagen Sie nur nicht das« she muttered her cheeks flushed crimson »Not
that at least«
She saw by the dawning look on Loerkes face that he had understood She
was not Mrs Crich Soo that explained a great deal
»Soll ich Fräulein sagen« he asked malevolently
»I am not married« she said with some hauteur
Her heart was fluttering now beating like a bewildered bird She knew she
had dealt a cruel wound and she could not bear it
Gerald sat erect perfectly still his face pale and calm like the face of
a statue He was unaware of her or of Loerke or anybody He sat perfectly still
in an unalterable calm Loerke meanwhile was crouching and glancing up from
under his ducked head
Gudrun was tortured for something to say to relieve the suspense She
twisted her face in a smile and glanced knowingly almost sneering at Gerald
»Truth is best« she said to him with a grimace
But now again she was under his domination now because she had dealt him
this blow because she had destroyed him and she did not know how he had taken
it She watched him He was interesting to her She had lost her interest in
Loerke
Gerald rose at length and went over in a leisurely still movement to the
professor The two began a conversation on Goethe
She was rather piqued by the simplicity of Geralds demeanour this evening
He did not seem angry or disgusted only he looked curiously innocent and pure
really beautiful Sometimes it came upon him this look of clear distance and
it always fascinated her
She waited troubled throughout the evening She thought he would avoid
her or give some sign But he spoke to her simply and unemotionally as he
would to anyone else in the room A certain peace an abstraction possessed his
soul
She went to his room hotly violently in love with him He was so beautiful
and inaccessible He kissed her he was a lover to her And she had extreme
pleasure of him But he did not come to he remained remote and candid
unconscious She wanted to speak to him But this innocent beautiful state of
unconsciousness that had come upon him prevented her She felt tormented and
dark
In the morning however he looked at her with a little aversion some
horror and some hatred darkening into his eyes She withdrew on to her old
ground But still he would not gather himself together against her
Loerke was waiting for her now The little artist isolated in his own
complete envelope felt that here at last was a woman from whom he could get
something He was uneasy all the while waiting to talk with her subtly
contriving to be near her Her presence filled him with keenness and excitement
he gravitated cunningly towards her as if she had some unseen force of
attraction
He was not in the least doubtful of himself as regards Gerald Gerald was
one of the outsiders Loerke only hated him for being rich and proud and of fine
appearance All these things however riches pride of social standing
handsome physique were externals When it came to the relation with a woman
such as Gudrun he Loerke had an approach and a power that Gerald never
dreamed of
How should Gerald hope to satisfy a woman of Gudruns calibre Did he think
that pride or masterful will or physical strength would help him Loerke knew a
secret beyond these things The greatest power is the one that is subtle and
adjusts itself not one which blindly attacks And he Loerke had understanding
where Gerald was a calf He Loerke could penetrate into depths far out of
Geralds knowledge Gerald was left behind like a postulant in the anteroom of
this temple of mysteries this woman But he Loerke could he not penetrate
into the inner darkness find the spirit of the woman in its inner recess and
wrestle with it there the central serpent that is coiled at the core of life
What was it after all that a woman wanted Was it mere social effect
fulfilment of ambition in the social world in the community of mankind Was it
even a union in love and goodness Did she want goodness Who but a fool would
accept this of Gudrun This was but the street view of her wants Cross the
threshold and you found her completely completely cynical about the social
world and its advantages Once inside the house of her soul and there was a
pungent atmosphere of corrosion an inflamed darkness of sensation and a vivid
subtle critical consciousness that saw the world distorted horrific
What then what next Was it sheer blind force of passion that would satisfy
her now Not this but the subtle thrills of extreme sensation in reduction It
was an unbroken will reacting against her unbroken will in a myriad subtle
thrills of reduction the last subtle activities of analysis and breaking down
carried out in the darkness of her whilst the outside form the individual, was
utterly unchanged even sentimental in its poses
But between two particular people any two people on earth the range of
pure sensational experience is limited The climax of sensual reaction once
reached in any direction is reached finally there is no going on There is
only repetition possible or the going apart of the two protagonists or the
subjugating of the one will to the other or death
Gerald had penetrated all the outer places of Gudruns soul He was to her
the most crucial instance of the existing world the ne plus ultra of the world
of man as it existed for her In him she knew the world and had done with it
Knowing him finally she was the Alexander seeking new worlds But there were no
new worlds there were no more men there were only creatures little ultimate
creatures like Loerke The world was finished now for her There was only the
inner individual darkness sensation within the ego, the obscene religious
mystery of ultimate reduction the mystic frictional activities of diabolic
reducing down disintegrating the vital organic body of life
All this Gudrun knew in her subconsciousness not in her mind She knew her
next step she knew what she should move on to when she left Gerald She was
afraid of Gerald that he might kill her But she did not intend to be killed A
fine thread still united her to him It should not be her death which broke it
She had farther to go a farther slow exquisite experience to reap
unthinkable subtleties of sensation to know before she was finished
Of the last series of subtleties Gerald was not capable He could not touch
the quick of her But where his ruder blows could not penetrate the fine
insinuating blade of Loerkes insectlike comprehension could At least it was
time for her now to pass over to the other the creature the final craftsman
She knew that Loerke in his innermost soul was detached from everything for
him there was neither heaven nor earth nor hell He admitted no allegiance he
gave no adherence anywhere He was single and by abstraction from the rest
absolute in himself
Whereas in Geralds soul there still lingered some attachment to the rest
to the whole And this was his limitation He was limited borné subject to his
necessity in the last issue for goodness for righteousness for oneness with
the ultimate purpose That the ultimate purpose might be the perfect and subtle
experience of the process of death the will being kept unimpaired that was not
allowed in him And this was his limitation
There was a hovering triumph in Loerke since Gudrun had denied her marriage
with Gerald The artist seemed to hover like a creature on the wing waiting to
settle He did not approach Gudrun violently he was never illtimed But
carried on by a sure instinct in the complete darkness of his soul he
corresponded mystically with her imperceptibly but palpably
For two days he talked to her continued the discussions of art of life
in which they both found such pleasure They praised the bygone things they
took a sentimental childish delight in the achieved perfections of the past
Particularly they liked the late eighteenth century the period of Goethe and of
Shelley and Mozart
They played with the past and with the great figures of the past a sort of
little game of chess or marionettes all to please themselves They had all the
great men for their marionettes and they two were the God of the show working
it all As for the future that they never mentioned except one laughed out some
mocking dream of the destruction of the world by a ridiculous catastrophe of
mans invention a man invented such a perfect explosive that it blew the earth
in two and the two halves set off in different directions through space to the
dismay of the inhabitants or else the people of the world divided into two
halves and each half decided it was perfect and right the other half was wrong
and must be destroyed so another end of the world Or else Loerkes dream of
fear the world went cold and snow fell everywhere and only white creatures
Polar bears white foxes and men like awful white snowbirds persisted in ice
cruelty
Apart from these stories they never talked of the future They delighted
most either in mocking imaginations of destruction or in sentimental fine
marionette shows of the past It was a sentimental delight to reconstruct the
world of Goethe at Weimar or of Schiller and poverty and faithful love or to
see again Jean Jacques in his quakings or Voltaire at Ferney or Frederick the
Great reading his own poetry
They talked together for hours of literature and sculpture and painting
amusing themselves with Flaxman and Blake and Fuseli with tenderness and with
Feuerbach and Böcklin It would take them a lifetime they felt to live again
in petto the lives of the great artists But they preferred to stay in the
eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries
They talked in a mixture of languages The groundwork was French in either
case But he ended most of his sentences in a stumble of English and a
conclusion of German she skilfully wove herself to her end in whatever phrase
came to her She took a peculiar delight in this conversation It was full of
odd fantastic expression of double meanings of evasions of suggestive
vagueness It was a real physical pleasure to her to make this thread of
conversation out of the differentcoloured strands of three languages
And all the while they two were hovering hesitating round the flame of some
invisible declaration He wanted it but was held back by some inevitable
reluctance She wanted it also but she wanted to put it off to put it off
indefinitely she still had some pity for Gerald some connection with him And
the most fatal of all she had the reminiscent sentimental compassion for
herself in connection with him Because of what had been she felt herself held
to him by immortal invisible threads because of what had been because of his
coming to her that first night into her own house in his extremity because
Gerald was gradually overcome with a revulsion of loathing for Loerke He
did not take the man seriously he despised him merely except as he felt in
Gudruns veins the influence of the little creature It was this that drove
Gerald wild the feeling in Gudruns veins of Loerkes presence Loerkes being
flowing dominant through her
»What makes you so smitten with that little vermin« he asked really
puzzled For he manlike could not see anything attractive or important at all
in Loerke Gerald expected to find some handsomeness or nobleness to account for
a womans subjection But he saw none here only an insectlike repulsiveness
Gudrun flushed deeply It was these attacks she would never forgive
»What do you mean« she replied »My God what a mercy I am not married to
you«
Her voice of flouting and contempt scotched him He was brought up short
But he recovered himself
»Tell me only tell me« he reiterated in a dangerous narrowed voice
»tell me what it is that fascinates you in him«
»I am not fascinated« she said with cold repelling innocence
»Yes you are You are fascinated by that little dry snake like a bird
gaping ready to fall down its throat«
She looked at him with black fury
»I dont choose to be discussed by you« she said
»It doesnt matter whether you choose or not« he replied »that doesnt
alter the fact that you are ready to fall down and kiss the feet of that little
insect And I dont want to prevent you do it fall down and kiss his feet
But I want to know what it is that fascinates you what is it«
She was silent suffused with black rage
»How dare you come browbeating me« she cried »how dare you you little
squire you bully What right have you over me do you think«
His face was white and gleaming she knew by the light in his eyes that she
was in his power the wolf And because she was in his power she hated him
with a power that she wondered did not kill him In her will she killed him as
he stood effaced him
»It is not a question of right« said Gerald sitting down on a chair She
watched the change in his body She saw his clenched mechanical body moving
there like an obsession Her hatred of him was tingled with fatal contempt
»Its not a question of my right over you though I have some right
remember I want to know I only want to know what it is that subjugates you to
that little scum of a sculptor downstairs what it is that brings you down like
a humble maggot in worship of him I want to know what you creep after«
She stood over against the window listening Then she turned round
»Do you« she said in her most easy most cutting voice »Do you want to
know what it is in him Its because he has some understanding of a woman
because he is not stupid Thats why it is«
A queer sinister animallike smile came over Geralds face
»But what understanding is it« he said »The understanding of a flea a
hopping flea with a proboscis Why should you crawl abject before the
understanding of a flea«
There passed through Gudruns mind Blakes representation of the soul of a
flea She wanted to fit it to Loerke Blake was a clown too But it was
necessary to answer Gerald
»Dont you think the understanding of a flea is more interesting than the
understanding of a fool« she asked
»A fool« he repeated
»A fool a conceited fool a Dummkopf« she replied adding the German
word
»Do you call me a fool« he replied »Well wouldnt I rather be the fool I
am than that flea downstairs«
She looked at him A certain blunt blind stupidity in him palled on her
soul limiting her
»You give yourself away by that last« she said
He sat and wondered
»I shall go away soon« he said
She turned on him
»Remember« she said »I am completely independent of you completely You
make your arrangements I make mine«
He pondered this
»You mean we are strangers from this minute« he asked
She halted and flushed He was putting her in a trap forcing her hand She
turned round on him
»Strangers« she said »we can never be But if you want to make any
movement apart from me then I wish you to know you are perfectly free to do so
Do not consider me in the slightest«
Even so slight an implication that she needed him and was depending on him
still was sufficient to rouse his passion As he sat a change came over his
body the hot molten stream mounted involuntarily through his veins He groaned
inwardly under its bondage but he loved it He looked at her with clear eyes
waiting for her
She knew at once and was shaken with cold revulsion How could he look at
her with those clear warm waiting eyes waiting for her even now What had
been said between them was it not enough to put them worlds asunder to freeze
them for ever apart And yet he was all transfused and roused waiting for her
It confused her Turning her head aside she said
»I shall always tell you whenever I am going to make any change «
And with this she moved out of the room
He sat suspended in a fine recoil of disappointment that seemed gradually
to be destroying his understanding But the unconscious state of patience
persisted in him He remained motionless without thought or knowledge for a
long time Then he rose and went downstairs to play at chess with one of the
students His face was open and clear with a certain innocent laisseraller
that troubled Gudrun most made her almost afraid of him whilst she disliked
him deeply for it
It was after this that Loerke who had never yet spoken to her personally
began to ask her of her state
»You are not married at all are you« he asked
She looked full at him
»Not in the least« she replied in her measured way Loerke laughed
wrinkling up his face oddly There was a thin wisp of his hair straying on his
forehead she noticed that his skin was of a clear brown colour his hands his
wrists And his hands seemed closely prehensile He seemed like topaz so
strangely brownish and pellucid
»Good« he said
Still it needed some courage for him to go on
»Was Mrs Birkin your sister« he asked
»Yes«
»And was she married«
»She was married«
»Have you parents then«
»Yes« said Gudrun »we have parents«
And she told him briefly laconically her position He watched her
closely curiously all the while
»So« he exclaimed with some surprise »And the Herr Crich is he rich«
»Yes he is rich a coal owner«
»How long has your friendship with him lasted«
»Some months«
There was a pause
»Yes I am surprised« he said at length »The English I thought they were
so cold And what do you think to do when you leave here«
»What do I think to do« she repeated
»Yes You cannot go back to the teaching No« he shrugged his shoulders
»that is impossible Leave that to the canaille who can do nothing else You
for your part you know you are a remarkable woman eine seltsame Frau Why
deny it why make any question of it You are an extraordinary woman why
should you follow the ordinary course the ordinary life«
Gudrun sat looking at her hands flushed She was pleased that he said so
simply that she was a remarkable woman He would not say that to flatter her
he was far too selfopinionated and objective by nature He said it as he would
say a piece of sculpture was remarkable because he knew it was so
And it gratified her to hear it from him Other people had such a passion to
make everything of one degree of one pattern In England it was chic to be
perfectly ordinary And it was a relief to her to be acknowledged extraordinary
Then she need not fret about the common standards
»You see« she said »I have no money whatsoever«
»Ach money« he cried lifting his shoulders »When one is grown up money
is lying about at ones service It is only when one is young that it is rare
Take no thought for money that always lies to hand«
»Does it« she said laughing
»Always The Gerald will give you a sum if you ask him for it «
She flushed deeply
»I will ask anybody else« she said with some difficulty »but not him«
Loerke looked closely at her
»Good« he said »Then let it be somebody else Only dont go back to that
England that school No that is stupid«
Again there was a pause He was afraid to ask her outright to go with him
he was not even quite sure he wanted her and she was afraid to be asked He
begrudged his own isolation was very chary of sharing his life even for a day
»The only other place I know is Paris« she said »and I cant stand that«
She looked with her wide steady eyes full at Loerke He lowered his head
and averted his face
»Paris no« he said »Between the réligion damour and the latest ism
and the new turning to Jesus one had better ride on a carrousel all day But
come to Dresden I have a studio there I can give you work oh that would be
easy enough I havent seen any of your things but I believe in you Come to
Dresden that is a fine town to be in and as good a life as you can expect of
a town You have everything there without the foolishness of Paris or the beer
of Munich«
He sat and looked at her coldly What she liked about him was that he spoke
to her simple and flat as to himself He was a fellow craftsman a fellow being
to her first
»No Paris« he resumed »it makes me sick Pah lamour I detest it
Lamour lamore die Liebe I detest it in every language Women and love
there is no greater tedium« he cried
She was slightly offended And yet this was her own basic feeling Men and
love there was no greater tedium
»I think the same« she said
»A bore« he repeated »What does it matter whether I wear this hat or
another So love I neednt wear a hat at all only for convenience Neither
need I love except for convenience I tell you what gnädige Frau « and he
leaned towards her then he made a quick odd gesture as of striking something
aside »gnädige Fräulein never mind I tell you what I would give
everything everything all your love for a little companionship in
intelligence « his eyes flickered darkly evilly at her »You understand« he
asked with a faint smile »It wouldnt matter if she were a hundred years old
a thousand it would be all the same to me so that she can understand« He
shut his eyes with a little snap
Again Gudrun was rather offended Did he not think her goodlooking then
Suddenly she laughed
»I shall have to wait about eighty years to suit you at that« she said »I
am ugly enough arent I«
He looked at her with an artists sudden critical estimating eye
»You are beautiful« he said »and I am glad of it But it isnt that it
isnt that« he cried with emphasis that flattered her »It is that you have a
certain wit it is the kind of understanding For me I am little chétif
insignificant Good Do not ask me to be strong and handsome then But it is
the me« he put his fingers to his mouth oddly »it is the me that is looking
for a mistress and my me is waiting for the thee of the mistress for the match
to my particular intelligence You understand«
»Yes« she said »I understand«
»As for the other this amour« he made a gesture dashing his hand aside
as if to dash away something troublesome »it is unimportant unimportant Does
it matter whether I drink white wine this evening or whether I drink nothing It
does not matter it does not matter So this love this amour this baiser Yes
or no soit ou soit pas today tomorrow or never it is all the same it
does not matter no more than the white wine«
He ended with an odd dropping of the head in a desperate negation Gudrun
watched him steadily She had gone pale
Suddenly she stretched over and seized his hand in her own
»That is true« she said in rather a high vehement voice »that is true
for me too It is the understanding that matters«
He looked up at her almost frightened furtive Then he nodded a little
sullenly She let go his hand he had made not the lightest response And they
sat in silence
»Do you know« he said suddenly looking at her with dark selfimportant
prophetic eyes »your fate and mine they will run together till « and he broke
off in a little grimace
»Till when« she asked blanched her lips going white She was terribly
susceptible to these evil prognostications but he only shook his head
»I dont know« he said »I dont know«
Gerald did not come in from his skiing until nightfall he missed the
coffee and cake that she took at four oclock The snow was in perfect
condition he had travelled a long way by himself among the snow ridges on
his skis he had climbed high so high that he could see over the top of the
pass five miles distant could see the Marienhütte the hostel on the crest of
the pass half buried in snow and over into the deep valley beyond to the dusk
of the pine trees One could go that way home but he shuddered with nausea at
the thought of home one could travel on skis down there and come to the old
imperial road below the pass But why come to any road He revolted at the
thought of finding himself in the world again He must stay up there in the snow
for ever He had been happy by himself high up there alone travelling swiftly
on skis taking far flights and skimming past the dark rocks veined with
brilliant snow
But he felt something icy gathering at his heart This strange mood of
patience and innocence which had persisted in him for some days was passing
away he would be left again a prey to the horrible passions and tortures
So he came down reluctantly snowburned snowestranged to the house in
the hollow between the knuckles of the mountaintops He saw its lights shining
yellow and he held back wishing he need not go in to confront those people to
hear the turmoil of voices and to feel the confusion of other presences He was
isolated as if there were a vacuum round his heart or a sheath of pure ice
The moment he saw Gudrun something jolted in his soul She was looking
rather lofty and superb smiling slowly and graciously to the Germans A sudden
desire leapt in his heart to kill her He thought what a perfect voluptuous
fulfilment it would be to kill her His mind was absent all the evening
estranged by the snow and his passion But he kept the idea constant within him
what a perfect voluptuous consummation it would be to strangle her to strangle
every spark of life out of her till she lay completely inert soft relaxed for
ever a soft heap lying dead between his hands utterly dead Then he would have
had her finally and for ever there would be such a perfect voluptuous finality
Gudrun was unaware of what he was feeling he seemed so quiet and amiable
as usual His amiability even made her feel brutal towards him
She went into his room when he was partially undressed She did not notice
the curious glad gleam of pure hatred with which he looked at her She stood
near the door with her hand behind her
»I have been thinking Gerald« she said with an insulting nonchalance
»that I shall not go back to England«
»Oh« he said »where will you go then«
But she ignored his question She had her own logical statement to make and
it must be made as she had thought it
»I cant see the use of going back« she continued »It is over between me
and you «
She paused for him to speak But he said nothing He was only talking to
himself saying »Over is it I believe it is over But it isnt finished
Remember it isnt finished We must put some sort of a finish on it There must
be a conclusion there must be finality«
So he talked to himself but aloud he said nothing whatever
»What has been has been« she continued »There is nothing that I regret I
hope you regret nothing «
She waited for him to speak
»Oh I regret nothing« he said accommodatingly
»Good then« she answered »good then Then neither of us cherishes any
regrets which is as it should be«
»Quite as it should be« he said aimlessly
She paused to gather up her thread again
»Our attempt has been a failure« she said »But we can try again
elsewhere«
A little flicker of rage ran through his blood It was as if she were
rousing him goading him Why must she do it
»Attempt at what« he asked
»At being lovers I suppose« she said a little baffled yet so trivial she
made it all seem
»Our attempt at being lovers has been a failure« he repeated aloud
To himself he was saying »I ought to kill her here There is only this
left for me to kill her« A heavy overcharged desire to bring about her death
possessed him She was unaware
»Hasnt it« she asked »Do you think it has been a success«
Again the insult of the flippant question ran through his blood like a
current of fire
»It had some of the elements of success our relationship« he replied »It
might have come off«
But he paused before concluding the last phrase Even as he began the
sentence he did not believe in what he was going to say He knew it never could
have been a success
»No« she replied »You cannot love«
»And you« he asked
Her wide darkfilled eyes were fixed on him like two moons of darkness
»I couldnt love you« she said with stark cold truth
A blinding flash went over his brain his body jolted His heart had burst
into flame His consciousness was gone into his wrists into his hands He was
one blind incontinent desire to kill her His wrists were bursting there would
be no satisfaction till his hands had closed on her
But even before his body swerved forward on her a sudden cunning
comprehension was expressed on her face and in a flash she was out of the door
She ran in one flash to her room and locked herself in She was afraid but
confident She knew her life trembled on the edge of an abyss But she was
curiously sure of her footing She knew her cunning could outwit him
She trembled as she stood in her room with excitement and awful
exhilaration She knew she could outwit him She could depend on her presence of
mind and on her wits But it was a fight to the death she knew it now One
slip and she was lost She had a strange tense exhilarated sickness in her
body as one who is in peril of falling from a great height but who does not
look down does not admit the fear
»I will go away the day after tomorrow« she said
She only did not want Gerald to think that she was afraid of him that she
was running away because she was afraid of him She was not afraid of him
fundamentally She knew it was her safeguard to avoid his physical violence But
even physically she was not afraid of him She wanted to prove it to him When
she had proved it that whatever he was she was not afraid of him when she
had proved that she could leave him for ever But meanwhile the fight between
them terrible as she knew it to be was inconclusive And she wanted to be
confident in herself However many terrors she might have she would be
unafraid uncowed by him He could never cow her nor dominate her nor have any
right over her this she would maintain until she had proved it Once it was
proved she was free of him for ever
But she had not proved it yet neither to him nor to herself And this was
what still bound her to him She was bound to him she could not live beyond
him She sat up in bed closely wrapped up for many hours thinking endlessly
to herself It was as if she would never have done weaving the great provision
of her thoughts
»It isnt as if he really loved me« she said to herself »He doesnt Every
woman he comes across he wants to make her in love with him He doesnt even
know that he is doing it But there he is before every woman he unfurls his
male attractiveness displays his great desirability he tries to make every
woman think how wonderful it would be to have him for a lover His very ignoring
of the women is part of the game He is never unconscious of them He should
have been a cockerel so he could strut before fifty females all his subjects
But really his Don Juan does not interest me I could play Dona Juanita a
million times better than he plays Juan He bores me you know His maleness
bores me Nothing is so boring so inherently stupid and stupidly conceited
Really the fathomless conceit of these men it is ridiculous the little
strutters
They are all alike Look at Birkin Built out of the limitation of conceit
they are and nothing else Really nothing but their ridiculous limitation and
intrinsic insignificance could make them so conceited
As for Loerke there is a thousand times more in him than in Gerald Gerald
is so limited there is a dead end to him He would grind on at the old mills
for ever And really there is no corn between the millstones any more They
grind on and on when there is nothing to grind saying the same things
believing the same things acting the same things Oh my God it would wear out
the patience of a stone
I dont worship Loerke but at any rate he is a free individual He is not
stiff with conceit of his own maleness He is not grinding dutifully at the old
mills Oh God when I think of Gerald and his work those offices at Beldover
and the mines it makes my heart sick What have I to do with it and him
thinking he can be a lover to a woman One might as well ask it of a
self-satisfied lamppost These men with their eternal jobs and their eternal
mills of God that keep on grinding at nothing It is too boring just boring
However did I come to take him seriously at all
At least in Dresden one will have ones back to it all And there will be
amusing things to do It will be amusing to go to these eurhythmic displays and
the German opera the German theatre It will be amusing to take part in German
Bohemian life And Loerke is an artist he is a free individual One will escape
from so much that is the chief thing escape so much hideous boring repetition
of vulgar actions vulgar phrases vulgar postures I dont delude myself that I
shall find an elixir of life in Dresden I know I shant But I shall get away
from people who have their own homes and their own children and their own
acquaintances and their own this and their own that I shall be among people who
dont own things and who havent got a home and a domestic servant in the
background who havent got a standing and a status and a degree and a circle of
friends of the same Oh God the wheels within wheels of people it makes ones
head tick like a clock with a very madness of dead mechanical monotony and
meaninglessness How I hate life how I hate it How I hate the Geralds that
they can offer one nothing else
Shortlands Heavens Think of living there one week then the next and
then the third
No I wont think of it it is too much «
And she broke off really terrified really unable to bear any more
The thought of the mechanical succession of day following day day following
day ad infinitum was one of the things that made her heart palpitate with a
real approach of madness The terrible bondage of this ticktack of time this
twitching of the hands of the clock this eternal repetition of hours and days
oh God it was too awful to contemplate And there was no escape from it no
escape
She almost wished Gerald were with her to save her from the terror of her
own thoughts Oh how she suffered lying there alone confronted by the
terrible clock with its eternal ticktack All life all life resolved itself
into this ticktack ticktack ticktack then the striking of the hour then
the ticktack ticktack and the twitching of the clockfingers
Gerald could not save her from it He his body his motion his life it
was the same ticking the same twitching across the dial a horrible mechanical
twitching forward over the face of the hours What were his kisses his
embraces She could hear their ticktack ticktack
Ha ha she laughed to herself so frightened that she was trying to laugh
it off ha ha how maddening it was to be sure to be sure
Then with a fleeting selfconscious motion she wondered if she would be
very much surprised on rising in the morning to realise that her hair had
turned white She had felt it turning white so often under the intolerable
burden of her thoughts and her sensations Yet there it remained brown as
ever and there she was herself looking a picture of health
Perhaps she was healthy Perhaps it was only her unabateable health that
left her so exposed to the truth If she were sickly she would have her
illusions imaginations As it was there was no escape She must always see and
know and never escape She could never escape There she was placed before the
clockface of life And if she turned round as in a railway station to look at
the bookstall still she could see with her very spine she could see the
clock always the great white clockface In vain she fluttered the leaves of
books or made statuettes in clay She knew she was not really reading She was
not really working She was watching the fingers twitch across the eternal
mechanical monotonous clockface of time She never really lived she only
watched Indeed she was like a little twelvehour clock visàvis with the
enormous clock of eternity there she was like Dignity and Impudence or
Impudence and Dignity
The picture pleased her Didnt her face really look like a clock dial
rather roundish and often pale and impassive She would have got up to look in
the mirror but the thought of the sight of her own face that was like a
twelvehour clock dial filled her with such deep terror that she hastened to
think of something else
Oh why wasnt somebody kind to her Why wasnt there somebody who would
take her in their arms and hold her to their breast and give her rest pure
deep healing rest Oh why wasnt there somebody to take her in their arms and
fold her safe and perfect for sleep She wanted so much this perfect enfolded
sleep She lay always so unsheathed in sleep She would lie always unsheathed in
sleep unrelieved unsaved Oh how could she bear it this endless unrelief
this eternal unrelief
Gerald Could he fold her in his arms and sheathe her in sleep Ha He
needed putting to sleep himself poor Gerald That was all he needed What did
he do he made the burden for her greater the burden of her sleep was the more
intolerable when he was there He was an added weariness upon her unripening
nights her unfruitful slumbers Perhaps he got some repose from her Perhaps he
did Perhaps this was what he was always dogging her for like a child that is
famished crying for the breast Perhaps this was the secret of his passion his
for ever unquenched desire for her that he needed her to put him to sleep to
give him repose
What then Was she his mother Had she asked for a child whom she must
nurse through the nights for her lover She despised him she despised him she
hardened her heart An infant crying in the night this Don Juan
Ooh but how she hated the infant crying in the night She would murder it
gladly She would stifle it and bury it as Hetty Sorrell did No doubt Hetty
Sorrells infant cried in the night no doubt Arthur Donnithornes infant
would Ha the Arthur Donnithornes the Geralds of this world So manly by day
yet all the while such a crying of infants in the night Let them turn into
mechanisms let them Let them become instruments pure machines pure wills
that work like clockwork in perpetual repetition Let them be this let them
be taken up entirely in their work let them be perfect parts of a great
machine having a slumber of constant repetition Let Gerald manage his firm
There he would be satisfied as satisfied as a wheelbarrow that goes backwards
and forwards along a plank all day she had seen it
The wheelbarrow the one humble wheel the unit of the firm Then the
cart with two wheels then the truck with four then the donkeyengine with
eight then the windingengine with sixteen and so on till it came to the
miner with a thousand wheels and then the electrician with three thousand
and the underground manager with twenty thousand and the general manager with
a hundred thousand little wheels working away to complete his makeup and then
Gerald with a million wheels and cogs and axles
Poor Gerald such a lot of little wheels to his make He was more intricate
than a chronometerwatch But oh heavens what weariness What weariness God
above A chronometerwatch a beetle her soul fainted with utter ennui from
the thought So many wheels to count and consider and calculate Enough enough
there was an end to mans capacity for complications even Or perhaps there
was no end
Meanwhile Gerald sat in his room reading When Gudrun was gone he was left
stupefied with arrested desire He sat on the side of the bed for an hour
stupefied little strands of consciousness appearing and reappearing But he did
not move for a long time he remained inert his head dropped on his breast
Then he looked up and realised that he was going to bed He was cold Soon
he was lying down in the dark
But what he could not bear was the darkness The solid darkness confronting
him drove him mad So he rose and made a light He remained seated for a while
staring in front He did not think of Gudrun he did not think of anything
Then suddenly he went downstairs for a book He had all his life been in
terror of the nights that should come when he could not sleep He knew that
this would be too much for him to have to face nights of sleeplessness and of
horrified watching the hours
So he sat for hours in bed like a statue reading His mind hard and
acute read on rapidly his body understood nothing In a state of rigid
unconsciousness he read on through the night till morning when weary and
disgusted in spirit disgusted most of all with himself he slept for two hours
Then he got up hard and full of energy Gudrun scarcely spoke to him
except at coffee when she said
»I shall be leaving tomorrow«
»We will go together as far as Innsbruck for appearances sake« he asked
»Perhaps« she said
She said »Perhaps« between the sips of her coffee And the sound of her
taking her breath in the word was nauseous to him He rose quickly to be away
from her
He went and made arrangements for the departure on the morrow Then taking
some food he set out for the day on the skis Perhaps he said to the Wirt he
would go up to the Marienhütte perhaps to the village below
To Gudrun this day was full of a promise like spring She felt an
approaching release a new fountain of life rising up in her It gave her
pleasure to dawdle through her packing it gave her pleasure to dip into books
to try on her different garments to look at herself in the glass She felt a
new lease of life was come upon her and she was happy like a child very
attractive and beautiful to everybody with her soft luxuriant figure and her
happiness Yet underneath was death itself
In the afternoon she had to go out with Loerke Her tomorrow was perfectly
vague before her This was what gave her pleasure She might be going to England
with Gerald she might be going to Dresden with Loerke she might be going to
Munich to a girlfriend she had there Anything might come to pass on the
morrow And today was the white snowy iridescent threshold of all possibility
All possibility that was the charm to her the lovely iridescent indefinite
charm pure illusion All possibility because death was inevitable and
nothing was possible but death
She did not want things to materialise to take any definite shape She
wanted suddenly at one moment of the journey tomorrow to be wafted into an
utterly new course by some utterly unforeseen event or motion So that
although she wanted to go out with Loerke for the last time into the snow she
did not want to be serious or businesslike
And Loerke was not a serious figure In his brown velvet cap that made his
head as round as a chestnut with the brown velvet flaps loose and wild over his
ears and a wisp of elflike thin black hair blowing above his full elflike
dark eyes the shiny transparent brown skin crinkling up into odd grimaces on
his smallfeatured face he looked an odd little boyman a bat But in his
figure in the greeny loden suit he looked chétif and puny still strangely
different from the rest
He had taken a little toboggan for the two of them and they trudged
between the blinding slopes of snow that burned their now hardening faces
laughing in an endless sequence of quips and jests and polyglot fancies The
fancies were the reality to both of them they were both so happy tossing about
the little coloured balls of verbal humour and whimsicality Their natures
seemed to sparkle in full interplay they were enjoying a pure game And they
wanted to keep it on the level of a game their relationship such a fine game
Loerke did not take the tobogganing very seriously He put no fire and
intensity into it as Gerald did Which pleased Gudrun She was weary oh so
weary of Geralds gripped intensity of physical motion Loerke let the sledge go
wildly and gaily like a flying leaf and when at a bend he pitched both her
and him out into the snow he only waited for them both to pick themselves up
unhurt off the keen white ground to be laughing and pert as a pixie She knew
he would be making ironical playful remarks as he wandered in hell if he were
in the humour And that pleased her immensely It seemed like a rising above the
dreariness of actuality the monotony of contingencies
They played till the sun went down in pure amusement careless and
timeless Then as the little sledge twirled riskily to rest at the bottom of
the slope
»Wait« he said suddenly and he produced from somewhere a large thermos
flask a packet of Keks and a bottle of Schnapps
»Oh Loerke« she cried »What an inspiration What a comble de joie indeed
What is the Schnapps«
He looked at it and laughed
»Heidelbeer« he said
»No From the bilberries under the snow Doesnt it look as if it were
distilled from snow Can you « she sniffed and sniffed at the bottle »can
you smell bilberries Isnt it wonderful It is exactly as if one could smell
them through the snow«
She stamped her foot lightly on the ground He kneeled down and whistled
and put his ear to the snow As he did so his black eyes twinkled up
»Ha Ha« she laughed warmed by the whimsical way in which he mocked at her
verbal extravagances He was always teasing her mocking her ways But as he in
his mockery was even more absurd than she in her extravagancies what could one
do but laugh and feel liberated
She could feel their voices hers and his ringing silvery like bells in the
frozen motionless air of the first twilight How perfect it was how very
perfect it was this silvery isolation and interplay
She sipped the hot coffee whose fragrance flew around them like bees
murmuring around flowers in the snowy air she drank tiny sips of the
Heidelbeerwasser she ate the cold sweet creamy wafers How good everything
was How perfect everything tasted and smelled and sounded here in this utter
stillness of snow and falling twilight
»You are going away tomorrow« his voice came at last
»Yes«
There was a pause when the evening seemed to rise in its silent ringing
pallor infinitely high to the infinite which was near at hand
»Wohin«
That was the question wohin Whither Wohin What a lovely word She never
wanted it answered Let it chime for ever
»I dont know« she said smiling at him
He caught the smile from her
»One never does« he said
»One never does« she repeated
There was a silence wherein he ate biscuits rapidly as a rabbit eats
leaves
»But« he laughed »where will you take a ticket to«
»Oh heaven« she cried »One must take a ticket«
Here was a blow She saw herself at the wicket at the railway station Then
a relieving thought came to her She breathed freely
»But one neednt go« she cried
»Certainly not« he said
»I mean one neednt go where ones ticket says«
That struck him One might take a ticket so as not to travel to the
destination it indicated One might break off and avoid the destination A
point located That was an idea
»Then take a ticket to London« he said »One should never go there«
»Right« she answered
He poured a little coffee into a tin can
»You wont tell me where you will go« he asked
»Really and truly« she said »I dont know It depends which way the wind
blows«
He looked at her quizzically then he pursed up his lips like Zephyrus
blowing across the snow
»It goes towards Germany« he said
»I believe so« she laughed
Suddenly they were aware of a vague white figure near them It was Gerald
Gudruns heart leapt in sudden terror profound terror She rose to her feet
»They told me where you were« came Geralds voice like a judgment in the
whitish air of twilight
»Maria You come like a ghost« exclaimed Loerke
Gerald did not answer His presence was unnatural and ghostly to them
Loerke shook the flask then he held it inverted over the snow Only a few
brown drops trickled out
»All gone« he said
To Gerald the smallish odd figure of the German was distinct and
objective as if seen through field glasses And he disliked the small figure
exceedingly he wanted it removed
Then Loerke rattled the box which held the biscuits
»Biscuits there are still« he said
And reaching from his seated posture in the sledge he handed them to
Gudrun She fumbled and took one He would have held them to Gerald but Gerald
so definitely did not want to be offered a biscuit that Loerke rather vaguely
put the box aside Then he took up the small bottle and held it to the light
»Also there is some Schnapps« he said to himself
Then suddenly he elevated the bottle gallantly in the air a strange
grotesque figure leaning towards Gudrun and said
»Gnädiges Fraulein« he said »wohl «
There was a crack the bottle was flying Loerke had started back the three
stood quivering in violent emotion
Loerke turned to Gerald a devilish leer on his brightskinned face
»Well done« he said in a satirical demoniac frenzy »Cest le sport sans
doute«
The next instant he was sitting ludicrously in the snow Geralds fist
having rung against the side of his head But Loerke pulled himself together
rose quivering looking full at Gerald his body weak and furtive but his eyes
demoniacal with satire
»Vive le héros vive «
But he flinched as in a black flash Geralds fist came upon him banged
into the other side of his head and sent him aside like a broken straw
But Gudrun moved forward She raised her clenched hand high and brought it
down with a great downward stroke on to the face and on to the breast of
Gerald
A great astonishment burst upon him as if the air had broken Wide wide
his soul opened in wonder feeling the pain Then it laughed turning with
strong hands outstretched at last to take the apple of his desire At last he
could finish his desire
He took the throat of Gudrun between his hands that were hard and
indomitably powerful And her throat was beautifully so beautifully soft save
that within he could feel the slippery chords of her life And this he
crushed this he could crush What bliss Oh what bliss at last what
satisfaction at last The pure zest of satisfaction filled his soul He was
watching the unconsciousness come into her swollen face watching the eyes roll
back How ugly she was What a fulfilment what a satisfaction How good this
was oh how good it was what a Godgiven gratification at last He was
unconscious of her fighting and struggling The struggling was her reciprocal
lustful passion in this embrace the more violent it became the greater the
frenzy of delight till the zenith was reached the crisis the struggle was
overborne her movement became softer appeased
Loerke roused himself on the snow too dazed and hurt to get up Only his
eyes were conscious
»Monsieur« he said in his thin roused voice »Quand vous aurez fini «
A revulsion of contempt and disgust came over Geralds soul The disgust
went to the very bottom of him a nausea Ah what was he doing to what depths
was he letting himself go As if he cared about her enough to kill her to have
her life on his hands
A weakness ran over his body a terrible relaxing a thaw a decay of
strength Without knowing he had let go his grip and Gudrun had fallen to her
knees Must he see must he know
A fearful weakness possessed him his joints were turned to water He
drifted as on a wind veered and went drifting away
»I didnt want it really« was the last confession of disgust in his soul
as he drifted up the slope weak finished only sheering off unconsciously from
any further contact »Ive had enough I want to go to sleep Ive had enough«
He was sunk under a sense of nausea
He was weak but he did not want to rest he wanted to go on and on to the
end Never again to stay till he came to the end that was all the desire that
remained to him So he drifted on and on unconscious and weak not thinking of
anything so long as he could keep in action
The twilight spread a weird unearthly light overhead bluishrose in
colour the cold blue night sank on the snow In the valley below behind in
the great bed of snow were two small figures Gudrun dropped on her knees like
one executed and Loerke sitting propped up near her That was all
Gerald stumbled on up the slope of snow in the bluish darkness always
climbing always unconsciously climbing weary though he was On his left was a
steep slope with black rocks and fallen masses of rock and veins of snow
slashing in and about the blackness of rock veins of snow slashing vaguely in
and about the blackness of rock Yet there was no sound all this made no noise
To add to his difficulty a small bright moon shone brilliantly just ahead
on the right a painful brilliant thing that was always there unremitting from
which there was no escape He wanted so to come to the end he had had enough
Yet he did not sleep
He surged painfully up sometimes having to cross a slope of black rock
that was blown bare of snow Here he was afraid of falling very much afraid of
falling And high up here on the crest moved a wind that almost overpowered
him with a sleepheavy iciness Only it was not here the end and he must still
go on His indefinite nausea would not let him stay
Having gained one ridge he saw the vague shadow of something higher in
front Always higher always higher He knew he was following the track towards
the summit of the slopes where was the Marienhütte and the descent on the
other side But he was not really conscious He only wanted to go on to go on
whilst he could to move to keep going that was all to keep going until it
was finished He had lost all his sense of place And yet in the remaining
instinct of life his feet sought the track where the skis had gone
He slithered down a sheer snow slope That frightened him He had no
alpenstock nothing But having come safely to rest he began to walk on in the
illuminated darkness It was as cold as sleep He was between two ridges in a
hollow So he swerved Should he climb the other ridge or wander along the
hollow How frail the thread of his being was stretched He would perhaps climb
the ridge The snow was firm and simple He went along There was something
standing out of the snow He approached with dimmest curiosity
It was a halfburied crucifix a little Christ under a little sloping hood
at the top of a pole He sheered away Somebody was going to murder him He had
a great dread of being murdered But it was a dread which stood outside him like
his own ghost
Yet why be afraid It was bound to happen To be murdered He looked round
in terror at the snow the rocking pale shadowy slopes of the upper world He
was bound to be murdered he could see it This was the moment when the death
was uplifted and there was no escape
Lord Jesus was it then bound to be Lord Jesus He could feel the blow
descending he knew he was murdered Vaguely wandering forward his hands lifted
as if to feel what would happen he was waiting for the moment when he would
stop when it would cease It was not over yet
He had come to the hollow basin of snow surrounded by sheer slopes and
precipices out of which rose a track that brought one to the top of the
mountain But he wandered unconsciously till he slipped and fell down and as
he fell something broke in his soul and immediately he went to sleep
Chapter XXXI
Exeunt
When they brought the body home the next morning Gudrun was shut up in her
room From her window she saw men coming along with a burden over the snow She
sat still and let the minutes go by
There came a tap at her door She opened There stood a woman saying
softly oh far too reverently
»They have found him madam«
»Il est mort«
»Yes hours ago«
Gudrun did not know what to say What should she say What should she feel
What should she do What did they expect of her She was coldly at a loss
»Thank you« she said and she shut the door of her room The woman went
away mortified Not a word not a tear ha Gudrun was cold a cold woman
Gudrun sat on in her room her face pale and impassive What was she to do
She could not weep and make a scene She could not alter herself She sat
motionless hiding from people Her one motive was to avoid actual contact with
events She only wrote out a long telegram to Ursula and Birkin
In the afternoon however she rose suddenly to look for Loerke She glanced
with apprehension at the door of the room that had been Geralds Not for worlds
would she enter there
She found Loerke sitting alone in the lounge She went straight up to him
»It isnt true is it« she said
He looked up at her A small smile of misery twisted his face He shrugged
his shoulders
»True« he echoed
»We havent killed him« she asked
He disliked her coming to him in such a manner He raised his shoulders
wearily
»It has happened« he said
She looked at him He sat crushed and frustrated for the time being quite
as emotionless and barren as herself My God this was a barren tragedy barren
barren
She returned to her room to wait for Ursula and Birkin She wanted to get
away only to get away She could not think or feel until she had got away till
she was loosed from this position
The day passed the next day came She heard the sledge saw Ursula and
Birkin alight and she shrank from these also
Ursula came straight up to her
»Gudrun« she cried the tears running down her cheeks And she took her
sister in her arms Gudrun hid her face on Ursulas shoulder but still she
could not escape the cold devil of irony that froze her soul
»Ha ha« she thought »this is the right behaviour«
But she could not weep and the sight of her cold pale impassive face soon
stopped the fountain of Ursulas tears In a few moments the sisters had
nothing to say to each other
»Was it very vile to be dragged back here again« Gudrun asked at length
Ursula looked up in some bewilderment
»I never thought of it« she said
»I felt a beast fetching you« said Gudrun »But I simply couldnt see
people That is too much for me«
»Yes« said Ursula chilled
Birkin tapped and entered His face was white and expressionless She knew
he knew He gave her his hand saying
»The end of this trip at any rate«
Gudrun glanced at him afraid
There was silence between the three of them nothing to be said At length
Ursula asked in a small voice
»Have you seen him«
He looked back at Ursula with a hard cold look and did not trouble to
answer
»Have you seen him« she repeated
»I have« he said coldly
Then he looked at Gudrun
»Have you done anything« he said
»Nothing« she replied »nothing«
She shrank in cold disgust from making any statement
»Loerke says that Gerald came to you when you were sitting on the sledge at
the bottom of the Rudelbahn that you had words and Gerald walked away What
were the words about I had better know so that I can satisfy the authorities
if necessary«
Gudrun looked up at him white childlike mute with trouble
»There werent even any words« she said »He knocked Loerke down and
stunned him he half strangled me then he went away«
To herself she was saying
»A pretty little sample of the eternal triangle« And she turned ironically
away because she knew that the fight had been between Gerald and herself and
that the presence of the third party was a mere contingency an inevitable
contingency perhaps but a contingency none the less But let them have it as an
example of the eternal triangle the trinity of hate It would be simpler for
them
Birkin went away his manner cold and abstracted But she knew he would do
things for her nevertheless he would see her through She smiled slightly to
herself with contempt Let him do the work since he was so extremely good at
looking after other people
Birkin went again to Gerald He had loved him And yet he felt chiefly
disgust at the inert body lying there It was so inert so coldly dead a
carcase Birkins bowels seemed to turn to ice He had to stand and look at the
frozen dead body that had been Gerald
It was the frozen carcase of a dead male Birkin remembered a rabbit which
he had once found frozen like a board on the snow It had been rigid like a
dried board when he picked it up And now this was Gerald stiff as a board
curled up as if for sleep yet with the horrible hardness somehow evident It
filled him with horror The room must be made warm the body must be thawed The
limbs would break like glass or like wood if they had to be straightened
He reached and touched the dead face And the sharp heavy bruise of ice
bruised his living bowels He wondered if he himself were freezing too freezing
from the inside In the short blond moustache the life breath was frozen into a
block of ice beneath the silent nostrils And this was Gerald
Again he touched the sharp almost glittering fair hair of the frozen body
It was icycold hair icycold almost venomous Birkins heart began to freeze
He had loved Gerald Now he looked at the shapely strangecoloured face with
the small fine pinched nose and the manly cheeks saw it frozen like an ice
pebble yet he had loved it What was one to think or feel His brain was
beginning to freeze his blood was turning to icewater So cold so cold a
heavy bruising cold pressing on his arms from outside and a heavier cold
congealing within him in his heart and in his bowels
He went over the snow slopes to see where the death had been At last he
came to the great shallow among the precipices and slopes near the summit of
the pass It was a grey day the third day of greyness and stillness All was
white icy pallid save for the scoring of black rocks that jutted like roots
sometimes and sometimes were in naked faces In the distance a slope sheered
down from a peak with many black rockslides
It was like a shallow pot lying among the stone and snow of the upper world
In this pot Gerald had gone to sleep At the far end the guides had driven iron
stakes deep into the snowwall so that by means of the great rope attached
they could haul themselves up the massive snowfront out on to the jagged
summit of the pass naked to heaven where the Marienhütte hid among the naked
rocks Round about spiked slashed snowpeaks pricked the heaven
Gerald might have found this rope He might have hauled himself up to the
crest He might have heard the dogs in the Marienhütte and found shelter He
might have gone on down the steep steep fall of the south side down into the
dark valley with its pines on to the great Imperial road leading south to
Italy
He might And what then The Imperial road The south Italy What then Was
it a way out It was only a way in again Birkin stood high in the painful air
looking at the peaks and the way south Was it any good going south to Italy
Down the old old Imperial road
He turned away Either the heart would break or cease to care Best cease to
care Whatever the mystery which has brought forth man and the universe it is a
nonhuman mystery it has its own great ends man is not the criterion Best
leave it all to the vast creative nonhuman mystery Best strive with oneself
only not with the universe
»God cannot do without man« It was a saying of some great French religious
teacher But surely this is false God can do without man God could do without
the ichthyosauri and the mastodon These monsters failed creatively to develop
so God the creative mystery dispensed with them In the same way the mystery
could dispense with man should he too fail creatively to change and develop
The eternal creative mystery could dispose of man and replace him with a finer
created being Just as the horse has taken the place of the mastodon
It was very consoling to Birkin to think this If humanity ran into a
culdesac and expended itself, the timeless creative mystery would bring forth
some other being finer more wonderful some new more lovely race to carry on
the embodiment of creation The game was never up The mystery of creation was
fathomless infallible inexhaustible for ever Races came and went species
passed away but ever new species arose more lovely or equally lovely always
surpassing wonder The fountainhead was incorruptible and unsearchable It had
no limits It could bring forth miracles create utter new races and new species
in its own hour new forms of consciousness, new forms of body new units of
being To be man was as nothing compared to the possibilities of the creative
mystery To have ones pulse beating direct from the mystery this was
perfection unutterable satisfaction Human or inhuman mattered nothing The
perfect pulse throbbed with indescribable being miraculous unborn species
Birkin went home again to Gerald He went into the room and sat down on the
bed Dead dead and cold
»Imperial Cæsar dead and turned to clay
Would stop a hole to keep the wind away«
There was no response from that which had been Gerald Strange congealed icy
substance no more No more
Terribly weary Birkin went away about the days business He did it all
quietly without bother To rant to rave to be tragic to make situations it
was all too late Best be quiet and bear ones soul in patience and in
fullness
But when he went in again at evening to look at Gerald between the
candles because of his hearts hunger suddenly his heart contracted his own
candle all but fell from his hand as with a strange whimpering cry the tears
broke out He sat down in a chair shaken by a sudden access Ursula who had
followed him recoiled aghast from him as he sat with sunken head and body
convulsively shaken making a strange horrible sound of tears
»I didnt want it to be like this I didnt want it to be like this« he
cried to himself Ursula could but think of the Kaisers »Ich habe as nicht
gewollt« She looked almost with horror on Birkin
Suddenly he was silent But he sat with his head dropped to hide his face
Then furtively he wiped his face with his fingers Then suddenly he lifted his
head and looked straight at Ursula with dark almost vengeful eyes
»He should have loved me« he said »I offered him«
She afraid white with mute lips answered
»What difference would it have made«
»It would« he said »It would«
He forgot her and turned to look at Gerald With head oddly lifted like a
man who draws his head back from an insult half haughtily he watched the cold
mute material face It had a bluish cast It sent a shaft like ice through the
heart of the living man Cold mute material Birkin remembered how once Gerald
had clutched his hand with a warm momentaneous grip of final love For one
second then let go again let go for ever If he had kept true to that clasp
death would not have mattered Those who die and dying still can love still
believe do not die They live still in the beloved Gerald might still have
been living in the spirit with Birkin even after death He might have lived
with his friend a further life
But now he was dead like clay like bluish corruptible ice Birkin looked
at the pale fingers the inert mass He remembered a dead stallion he had seen
a dead mass of maleness repugnant He remembered also the beautiful face of one
whom he had loved and who had died still having the faith to yield to the
mystery That dead face was beautiful no one could call it cold mute
material No one could remember it without gaining faith in the mystery without
the souls warming with new deep life trust
And Gerald The denier He left the heart cold frozen hardly able to beat
Geralds father had looked wistful to break the heart but not this last
terrible look of cold mute Matter Birkin watched and watched
Ursula stood aside watching the living man stare at the frozen face of the
dead man Both faces were unmoved and unmoving The candleflames flickered in
the frozen air in the intense silence
»Havent you seen enough« she said
He got up
»Its a bitter thing to me« he said
»What that hes dead« she said
His eyes just met hers He did not answer
»Youve got me« she said
He smiled and kissed her
»If I die« he said »youll know I havent left you«
»And me« she cried
»And you wont have left me« he said »We shant have any need to despair
in death«
She took hold of his hand
»But need you despair over Gerald« she said
»Yes« he answered
They went away Gerald was taken to England to be buried Birkin and Ursula
accompanied the body along with one of Geralds brothers It was the Crich
brothers and sisters who insisted on the burial in England Birkin wanted to
leave the dead man in the Alps near the snow But the family was strident
loudly insistent
Gudrun went to Dresden She wrote no particulars of herself Ursula stayed
at the Mill with Birkin for a week or two They were both very quiet
»Did you need Gerald« she asked one evening
»Yes« he said
»Arent I enough for you« she asked
»No« he said »You are enough for me as far as a woman is concerned You
are all women to me But I wanted a man friend as eternal as you and I are
eternal«
»Why arent I enough« she said »You are enough for me I dont want
anybody else but you Why isnt it the same with you«
»Having you I can live all my life without anybody else any other sheer
intimacy But to make it complete really happy I wanted eternal union with a
man too another kind of love« he said
»I dont believe it« she said »Its an obstinacy a theory a perversity«
»Well « he said
»You cant have two kinds of love Why should you«
»It seems as if I cant« he said »Yet I wanted it«
»You cant have it because its false impossible« she said
»I dont believe that« he answered