My DH Lawrence Deep Dive Experience
Honestly, the whole thing started kinda randomly. I kept seeing DH Lawrence’s name pop up in dusty corners of the internet, people calling his stuff revolutionary or scandalous or whatever. So one lazy Sunday, I grabbed my coffee, plonked down at the computer, and basically ordered every Lawrence title I could find without even blinking. Boom, spent way too much money, just like that.
Weeks later, this big, heavy box of books lands on my porch. Felt like Christmas, only instead of toys, it was all these thick novels with dramatic covers. I lugged them inside and dumped them right on the dining table. They just sat there, staring at me. Seriously intimidating pile, let me tell you. Where the heck do you even start with Lawrence?
I decided to wing it. My genius plan? Pick the one with the title that jumped out first. That happened to be Sons and Lovers. I cracked it open expecting… I dunno, romance maybe? What I got smacked me in the face. All this raw, messy family stuff, mothers and sons tied up in knots, intense feelings everywhere. It wasn’t light reading by any stretch. Sometimes it dragged, felt like wading through thick mud, but then bam! There’d be a passage so sharp and real about feeling trapped that it totally hooked me. Finished it feeling emotionally drained, but strangely impressed.
Needing a change of pace, I tried The Rainbow next. Lawrence really doubled down on the generations thing, huh? Followed the Brangwen family through marriages and fights and finding themselves. Talk about weird sometimes! Lawrence describing relationships? Man, he didn’t hold back. Used language that felt almost primitive, super physical. It was hard going in parts, dense like a forest. Some bits lost me completely if I’m honest, but other parts? Pure magic. Like seeing the world painted in colours you never knew existed.
Okay, so I got through two. Feeling kinda proud, but also aware this guy liked to write BIG books. Grabbed Women in Love. This is where things got seriously strange. The characters seemed to live in this bubble, talking in circles about love and hate and death like philosophers on speed. I almost chucked it across the room more than once. But then… there were moments. Arguments between people that crackled with electricity, descriptions of nature so intense you could practically smell the earth. It made my head spin, good and bad. Lawrence just shoved your face into the messy, complicated parts of people and dared you to look away.
After wrestling with that beast, I needed the one everyone whispers about: Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Figured, alright Lawrence, show me what got you banned everywhere. Yeah, sure, there’s the sex stuff. Explicit? For its time, absolutely. But honestly? That wasn’t what grabbed me most. Buried under all that scandal was this brutal takedown of class snobbery and a man totally disconnected from life. The love scenes, even the frank ones, felt oddly… emotional? More about connection hitting rock bottom and clawing its way back than just physical mechanics. Finished it thinking it might be his most accessible rage against the machine, weirdly enough.
So, looking back at my little mountain of Lawrence books? Was it easy? Heck no. His stuff is demanding, sprawling, often weird as hell. He repeats himself, gets lost in tangents, and characters yell about their souls at the drop of a hat.
But here’s the thing:
- Sons and Lovers shows family chains like anchors.
- The Rainbow throws generations into the fire to see what survives.
- Women in Love dissects how broken people connect (or fail to).
- Lady Chatterley’s Lover screams about dead souls trapped by society.
They all challenge you. They poke the bruises society ignores. Lawrence doesn’t write polite novels; he throws grenades made of feelings.
Was it worth the effort and the moments I wanted to scream? Honestly? Yeah. It felt like stretching mental muscles I didn’t know I had. If you wanna try him, maybe pick Sons and Lovers or Lady Chatterley first. Brace yourself, keep the coffee strong, and see if he grabs you too.
