They evoke, depending on the person,
context, or culture, intense emotions such as fascination, fear, vulnerability,
shame, desire, disgust, mystery, and a reminder that we are subject to forces
that we do not really control. It is perhaps for this reason that in D.H.
Lawrence’s novel, Lady Chatterley’s Lover,
those three things seem to be weaved together in the lives of the main
characters, especially Connie, the upper-class woman who has an affair with
Mellors, the lower class servant of Sir Clifford, Connie’s husband who embodies
everything that socialists despise: a greedy industrial capitalist with little
empathy for his workers and who profits from their labours while living in comfort
and luxury. Another major theme of the novel is the intersection between sex,
class relations, and the geopolitical context of the time when the novel was
written: just after World War 1, which had left deep scars on all of Europe and
which, among other things, led to the Bolshevik revolution in Russia and the
existential clash between the West and the East. This ideological clash, as we
will see, impacted even the most intimate relations of people who were present
at the time.
The novel begins with the Great War.
Shortly after the marriage between Connie and Sir Clifford, the latter, like
most young British men, went to the front to fight and was seriously wounded,
coming back to his young wife permanently paralyzed from the waist down and
unable to perform the conjugal functions of a husband. Initially, it seems as
if he and Connie could preserve the matrimonial bond through their mental
connection: Clifford demonstrates the bourgeoisie appreciation for art and the
life of the mind, which Connie finds attractive. But their lack of physical
intimacy leaves her deeply dissatisfied, leading to a kind of emotional crisis
which leads to a brief affair with the insecure and peripatetic artist Michealis.
Although she is fascinated by his “unscrupulousness” and youthful beauty, his
sexual egoism ultimately leaves her dejected. She then meets Mellors, the
gatekeeper and servant of Sir Clifford. She perceives in him “a vividness not
far from death itself”. Her
consciousness of death, and her attendant emotional crisis is also captured
when, during a walk in the woods, she sees the cemetery by the Church, “with
hideous tombstones that seem like teeth”, and comes to the realization that she
will soon be buried there.
Shortly after, the romance between her and
Mellors begins, but it does not follow the traditional script of courtship,
flirtation, and consummation. Rather, it has an animal like-quality to it:
after a chance meeting in the woods, Mellors is overcome with the male
procreative urge, while Connie is seemingly helpless to her impulses as well.
It is as if their union has the force of nature, almost completely independent
of each other’s will. Although, at least initially, the dalliance follows the
traditional pattern of Mellors as the dominant male and Connie as the
submissive female, both are subject to forces that neither can control. As we
will see, this kind of romance is a metaphorical kind of resistance to the
bourgeoisie order that both parties are contemptuous of: instrumentally rational,
rule based, suppressive of the natural and instinctual, and organized around
the seeming impermeability between the classes.
The novel depicts their love-making in explicit
detail and with a poetic force that must have jarred the sensibilities of
readers in early 20th century Britain, when the book was published.
Their union is compared to the creative force “at the beginning of time” and
Connie’s orgasms are described as “rippling, rippling, like a flapping
overlapping of soft flames, soft as feathers, running to points of brilliance,
exquisite, exquisite, and melting all of her molten inside”. That is quite the
literary achievement: capturing and conveying the seemingly ineffable subjective
sensations of orgasm with the English language is no easy feat, and D.H.
Lawrence has done it. Another curious feature of the lovemaking between the two
is its association with human excrement. Before making love, the novel repeatedly
refers to how they could feel the sexual attraction for each other “in their
bowels”. Mellors displays a curious fascination with Connie’s anus, at one
point touching it and saying “if that shits and the other pisses, I’m glad. I
don’t want no woman that couldn’t shit or piss”. Later in the novel, he asks
Connie why she likes him, and she replies “your courage and tenderness to put
your hand in my tail” (one of D.H. Lawrence’s curious euphemisms for anus).
This, I think, provides a clue to their love: there is a primordial tenderness
that does not shy away from the deepest (pardon the pun) and most vulnerable
parts of the naked body. It is no coincidence that this kind of sex clashed
with the upper-class bourgeois and industrial post-war order that both parties
detested, where the union between men and women was more about producing
offspring to bequeath inherited wealth rather than satisfying the animal lust
that humans are often subject to.
Sex
and Geopolitics
As a political scientist my knowledge of
the Great War tends to be restricted to the realm of geopolitics. As any first
year student knows, the conflict led to a new world order: the rise of the US
as the world’s dominant power, its mission to spread democracy and a world
governed by law rather than force, the creation of the League of Nations (the
precursor to the UN) and other global governance institutions, the complete
redrawing of borders in Europe, Asia, and especially the Middle East (and for
the last of those regions we are still living with the aftermath). One of the
beneficial aspects of reading Lady
Chatterley’s Lover is learning about the intersections between World
War 1 and the intimate relations between the sexes. The immense slaughter and
industrial-scale violence impacted families all across Europe, and this was
also the case for the characters discussed here. After being wounded in battle Sir
Clifford becomes paralyzed from the waist down, and hence his marital union
with Connie cannot be completed. With all his British stoicism Clifford seems
to be resigned to his fate and is content to pursue the life of the mind, but
not Connie. She is young (28), brimming with the desire to fully explore and
pursue her womanhood, and to eventually reproduce. Clifford understands this,
and even encourages her to have an affair while in Italy and become pregnant so
that they could raise a child as if it was his. This would also ensure offspring
for Clifford to whom he could bequeath his accumulated property.
It does not turn out that way, of course.
Connie feels free to pursue affairs with other men, but ends up with one of
Clifford’s servants. The political content is inescapable: Connie’s union with
a man below her in status, wealth, prestige, and class is a direct affront to
Clifford’s bourgeois world which was characterized (and still is, I would
argue) with the near impermeability between the classes. Different cultures,
habits, tastes, rhythms of life, language, and networks usually ensure that
mating is usually intra- rather than inter- class, and this continues to be
true today. It is a major channel that directly transmits the economic
inequality of the system to future generations and ensures the perpetuation of
the existing order. Connie’s passion for Mellors is a direct assault on this
pattern, which is one of the things that makes it so intriguing.
During their discussions and pillow talk,
Mellors reveals himself as sympathetic to the ideals of the Bolsheviks, whose
revolution in Russia in 1917 was made possible by convulsions of World War 1.
He rails against the institutionalized greed of the capitalist system, and how
it subjects the classes to a dehumanizing and degrading existence, and how it
prioritizes industry, rationalization, and rules over instinct, the intuitive
faculty, and the body’s natural functions. In an echo of the later complaints
of environmentalists, he also condemns the ugliness of the factories and the
towns organized around them, and how they despoil the beauty of nature. Connie
agrees with him, but unlike Mellors she is a direct beneficiary of the system:
her upper-class upbringing and education, her life of comfort and luxury with
Clifford, were made possible by the wealth that her class accumulated. These
philosophical disagreements come to the fore in one dramatic scene when she argues
with Clifford, condemning him and the
order that he embodies. Her sympathy for the ideals of the Bolsheviks
represents a direct and irreconcilable clash with Clifford. He replies that
inequality has always existed, regardless of the economic or political system
in place (he is right about that), and that societies will always divide
themselves into classes because that is the nature of things. She senses he is
right, and although her love affair with Mellors is a direct refutation of his
observation, she is perhaps dimly aware that it is radically unique and rare. More
common is the attitude of her sister, Hilda, who has sympathy for the plight of
the working classes but would not genuinely inter-mix (in every sense of the
term) with them, because of the radical differences in outlook, communication,
taste, and all the other building blocks of human bonding and intercourse.
The association of death, sex, and shit
throughout the text has an ominous undertone at times, and one could not help
but think that the love triangle between Clifford, Connie, and Mellors would
end in tragedy, perhaps with Clifford murdering Mellors or vice versa. Happily,
it does not turn out that way. Connie becomes pregnant with Mellors’s child,
and has to make the grindingly difficult decision on whether to stay with Clifford
and raise the child as the latter’s son (and give him an heir) or follow her
instincts and leave Clifford so that she could be with Mellors. In light of the
general thrust (wink) of the text, it is unsurprising that she chooses the
latter option. The book ends there, leaving the reader wondering whether the
love between her and Mellors endures the trials and tribulations of Connie
choosing to live with a much lower standard of living than she was used to, and
raising a child under these new conditions. In the real world, one could
imagine that this would eventually cause a lot of strife between them,
especially after the intensity of their passionate love died down, as it often
does. Or perhaps they would have remained together, monogamous and faithful,
raising children and diligently working hard to ensure that all their material
needs were met. This would have been ironic, since their love affair, which
began as a form of resistance to the system, would have ended in classic
bourgeois style.
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