Любовникът на лейди Чатърли

by D.H. Lawrence

Романът на Дейвид Лорънс "Любовникът на лейди Чатърли" е отпечатан през 1928г. във Флоренция. В книгата се разказва за богата омъжена жена - Констънс Чатърли. Тя е красива и страстна, но е дълбоко нещастна в брака си със сър Клифърд Чатърли - инавалид от Първата световна война. Впоследствие Констънс се влюбва в Мелорс - пазач на дивеча в имението на мъжа й. Любовта им е красива, двамата са окрилени и спасени от хаоса на външния свят. В началото е само физическо привличане, но постепенно се сближават духовно и се реализират като пълноценни личности.
Основното в романа е, че всеки от нас има право на свободен нравствен избор. Вероятно концепцията на романа е в следната мисъл на Лорънс: "Моята велика религия е вярата в това, че кръвта и плътта са по-мъдри от интелекта." Много показателни са думите на автора, че "усещането за непристойност се ражда само в този случай, че разумът презира тялото и се бои от него, а тялото ненавижда разума и му се съпротивлява". Проблемите на книгата започват от момента на издаването й. Причината е, че авторът е описал детайлизирано сексуални отношения и е използвал непозволена лексика (за онези години).
Заради това книгата е забранена и в Обединеното кралство, и в Щатите като порнографска, а целият тираж е кофискуван и унищожен.
През 1928г. Лорънс вече е "стрелян заек" и не се бои от цензурата. Той категорично отказва да издаде книгата, като зачеркне от нея откровените думи и сцени. Трийсет години след смъртта му неговата творба продължава да бъде забранена и се появяват само нейни пиратски копия. През 1960г. след шумен съдебен процес романът успява да види бял свят официално. Филмиран е през 1981г.

Genres: Classics, Fiction, Romance, Literature, Banned Books, Historical Fiction, Novels

386 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1928

About the author

David Herbert Richards Lawrence was an English writer of the 20th century, whose prolific and diverse output included novels, short stories, poems, plays, essays, travel books, paintings, translations, literary criticism, and personal letters. His collected works represent an extended reflection upon the dehumanizing effects of modernity and industrialisation. In them, Lawrence confronts issues relating to emotional health and vitality, spontaneity, human sexuality and instinct.

Lawrence's opinions earned him many enemies and he endured official persecution, censorship, and misrepresentation of his creative work throughout the second half of his life, much of which he spent in a voluntary exile he called his "savage pilgrimage." At the time of his death, his public reputation was that of a pornographer who had wasted his considerable talents. E. M. Forster, in an obituary notice, challenged this widely held view, describing him as "the greatest imaginative novelist of our generation." Later, the influential Cambridge critic F. R. Leavis championed both his artistic integrity and his moral seriousness, placing much of Lawrence's fiction within the canonical "great tradition" of the English novel. He is now generally valued as a visionary thinker and a significant representative of modernism in English literature.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D.H._Law...

Reviews

[Brad · Rating 5 out of 5]

WARNING: This review contains a discussion of the c-word, and I plan to use it. Please don't read this if you do not want to see the word spelled out. Thanks.

This is less a review than an homage to my crazy mother (now I have you really intrigued, don't I?)

It was 1983, and I was in my first Catholic school. I'd spent my first six years of school in a public school, but my "behavioral issues" coupled with my lack of growth made me a target for bullies, so my parents were advised to move me to another school where no one knew me.

So off I went to the home room of a fallen nun, who'd given up her habit for a family. She wasn't much of a teacher. She was an old school Catholic educator who practiced punitive teaching, which included kicks to the shins, yanking of ears, pulling of hair, and screaming from close range.

I kept my head down and tried to blend in with my new surroundings, but my Mother made that difficult from the get go. I was a voracious reader, and she passed on the disease to me. From grade two on she had been recommending great books to me. I was reading everything before most everyone else, but my Mom's recommendation of Lady Chatterly's Lover in my first month of Catholic school was probably her most outrageous and unforgettable recommendation.

She bought me a copy at the book store in the mall, and that's where I met one of my favourite words of all time -- cunt.

Back in 1983, cunt was not a word in your average child's vocabulary. Sure we'd heard it, and maybe even seen it, but it was not something that was regularly used by kids, and its usage was pretty vague to every 13 year old I knew.

But there it was in Lady Chatterly's Lover. It was all over the place. So as I read the story and absorbed the way Lawrence used cunt, his usage became my usage. Lawrence used cunt beautifully; it was not a term of denigration; it was not used to belittle; it was not an insult nor something to be ashamed of; cunt was lyrical, romantic, caring, intimate. And I came to believe that cunt was meant to be used in all these ways. That the poetic use of cunt was the accepted use of cunt, the correct use of cunt, and suddenly cunt was part of my vocabulary.

I was thirteen.

Now I didn't just start running around using cunt at every opportunity. I did what I always did with new words that I came to know and love. I added them to my vocabulary and used them when I thought it was appropriate.

And when I whispered it to Tammy, the girl I had a crush on, a few weeks later, thinking that it was the sort of romantic, poetic language that made women fall in love with their men (I can't remember what I said with it, but I know it was something very much like what Mellors would have said to Constance), she turned around with a deep blush, a raised eyebrow and a "That's disgusting" that rang through the class (I can still see the red of autumn leaves that colored her perfectly alabaster skin under a shock of curly black hair, aaaah...Tammy. Apparently she had a better sense of cunt's societal taboos than I did). Mrs. C--- was on her feet and standing parallel to the two of us in a second, demanding to know what was going on.

To her credit, Tammy tried to save me -- sort of. She said "Nothing." Then Mrs. C--- turned on me; I was completely mortified (I'd obviously blown it with the first girl I loved in junior high school), and while I was in this shrinking state, Mrs. C--- demanded to know what was happening and what I had said.

I tried to avoid repeating what I had said. I admitted I shouldn't have been talking. I admitted that I should have been working. I tried to divert her attention. But she was a scary lady, and I couldn't help myself. I repeated what I had said -- as quietly as I could -- but as soon as Mrs. C--- heard "cunt" I was finished. That was the moment I knew "cunt" was the catalyst for the whole debacle.

Now...I'd known before that the word was taboo, but I didn't think it would generate the response it did. I really thought that Tammy would be flattered. And I certainly didn't expect that I would be dragged to the office by an angry ex-nun. Silly me.

I got the strap. It was the first time (although there would be another). Three lashes to the palm of the hand.

I didn't use "cunt" in public or private for a long time after that, but my punishment couldn't diminish my love for the word. Lawrence made such and impression on my young mind that neither humiliation nor physical pain could overcome my appreciation of cunt's poetic qualities.

To me the word is and always will be a beautiful and, yes, gentle thing.

Every time that event was recounted at the dinner table over the years, whether it was amongst family, or with my girlfriends or my future wife, my Mom always got this sly little grin on her face and indulged in a mischievous giggle before refusing to take the blame for me getting the strap. After all, "Who was the one who was stupid enough to use the word, Brad? Not me."

I love her response as much as I love the word.

And in case you were wondering, my Mom never stopped recommending books to me. She was an absolute kook. I miss her.

I can't wait to pass on Lady Chatterly's Lover to my kids...but I think it's going to have to be in grade three if it's going to have the same effect it had on me...hmmm...I wonder how that will go over.

[Madeline · Rating 1 out of 5]

I honestly think that if this book hadn't been banned for obscene content, no one would have ever read it. Yes, there are lots of sex scenes (omg scandalous) but all the stuff in between is, for the most part, ungodly boring. The book gets points for having some very intellectual discussions of class and the differences between men and women, and Lawrence's characters talk about sex with more honesty than any other book I've ever read, but that's about all it has going for it. I was about fifty pages into the book when I realized that I really didn't like either of the title characters (Lady Chatterley and her Lovah), and it didn't get much better from there. Mellors started to grow on me towards the end, when he discovered sarcasm, but Lady Chatterley (aka Connie) was one of the most boring protagonists ever. She was almost completely personality-deficient, and Lawrence worked hard at the beginning to convince us that she was intelligent, a task at which he fails miserably. Example? At one point in the book, when Connie and Mellors have just finished having hot sex and are in bed together, he starts a rant about the class system. Connie's response? She observes that Mellors' chest hair and pubic hair are different colors.
Fascinating.

Basically, the book can be summed up like this: Blah blah SEX blah blah class blah SEX SEX blah blah class England's economy SEX SEX SEX SCANDAL arguement arguement SCANDAL Vacation time! blah blah blah SEX arguement SCANDAL blah blah the end.

[Paul Bryant · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Afternoon, m'lady - dust tha fancy a quick un over yon five barred gate?"

"Oh you earthy gamekeepers, well I don't know... oh alright... but only if you mention my private parts in a rough yet tender manner and clasp them enthusiastically betwixt your craggy extremities."

Lord Chatterley, from a mullioned window: "Grr, if I wasn't just a symbol of the impotent yet deadening power of the English aristocracy I'd whip that bounder to within an inch of an orgasm."

40 years later :

Barrister in full periwig : "Is this a book you would want your wife or your servant to read?"

Jury : "Well, it's not one of his best, that's for sure, but it isn't bad, crudely propagandistic but it does trenchantly place its finger on a particular moment in the shift of class consciousness in Britain."

Judge : "Cut the crap, guilty or not guilty?"

Jury : "Guilty pleasure!"

[Jo · Rating 5 out of 5]

D.H. Lawrence, what have you done to me? This book was so much more than I thought it was going to be. This was an experience that I wanted to devour quickly, but that would mean not being able to soak up and bathe in Lawrence's every word, so it quickly became apparent that I needed to take my time.

I found this book in a used bookstore, and even when I picked it up, my Dad raised an eyebrow at me. I said 'Oh come on Dad, whats my age again?' I thought it was just going to be a book with countless sex scenes and not much else. I was wrong though, of course, as although the sex was heavy, it intertwined perfectly with the plot.

"My soul softly flaps in the little Pentecost flame with you, like the peace of fucking. We fucked a flame into being"

I just love that quote. It's just so painfully raw and that is what I love and appreciate about Lawrence's writing style. He is confident in his style, and hell, it shows. He is writing completely from a woman's perspective too, which is a challenge for any male author, and I have great respect for that.

The two main characters, Lady Chatterley and Mellors, are very frank about their sexual experiences, and I think this is what makes the book so desirable. The words "Fuck" and "cunt" are used countless times, but these words fit in beautifully with the scenes. They are both for the most part, very believable, apart from when Lady Chatterley remarks about her womb rather a lot, and possibly some of the sexist remarks that come from Mellors.

The sexual scenes were beautifully written, long and drawn out, and to me, they were even a little sad. I did laugh a little at Lawrence's grand effort to describe the female orgasm. It really was excellently done, though.
I think what I love most about this book, is the way sex is openly talked of, without absolutely no shame. This is how sex ought to be discussed. It's natural, beautiful and we all have needs and desires, and this book shows us just that in the most erotic and incredible way possible.

[Ruby Granger · Rating 4 out of 5]

Definitely worth a read because of how much this book rebelled against contemporary expectations - not only sex, but the musings on modern society (which I really enjoyed) provide a critique of the taboos around the body which still exist today. Also some great nature descriptions - I think this would be best read in Spring.

It wasn't very fast-paced (because it doesn't lead with plot). Parts of this are more like reading a really engaging philosophy essay. Not a bad thing, but not what I was expecting.

[emma]

reading this for science (finding out what old-timey smut is like)

[Fergus, Weaver of Autistic Webs · Rating 3 out of 5]

You know, if you've grown up around adults whose plainly virtuous lives have subconsciously bequeathed a living sense of morality into you, it can become for you a sense of the Japanese ideal of joriki - inner strength and independence.

So if you've been so positively infected, books like this can leave a sour taste in your gullet!

I read two famous novels in the Summer of 1971: this, and Thomas Wolfe’s Look Homeward Angel.

Both were passionately written novels written by angst-driven, poor lost souls.

The first one I completed was Chatterley.

A darkly impassioned, brooding work, one wishes repeatedly, during its endlessly extended panegyrics to the brute force of nature, for a breath of fresh air - a moment of unconsidered spontaneity, an escape to cooler and less feverish climes.

It’s as if Lawrence, and his dark antihero Mellors, are trying to punch their futile way out of a huge dark paper bag, but are so lost and weakened by their lonely self-centredness that the task has become Olympian and thus unattainable.

Lawrence, like so many we know, made his name - like Shakespeare - by playing to the Pit of the Fallen. A sure panacea for a Loner’s Angst. Shakespeare, though, later changed his ways with the restless questioning of his Middle Plays.

And found Lasting Peace and Reconciliation with the Late Plays, like The Tempest.

And you know what else?

I keep getting the feeling that Lawrence is trying to ground his Life in Passion. To find a foundation in it. You can’t do that.

For, as ancient Heraklitos said, “you can’t step into the same river twice.” In fact, you’ll be swept away by the wintry Void in old age - if you get there…

For “ash on an old man’s sleeve/ Is all the ash the burnt roses leave!”

It’s a losing game that leaves the bitter taste of burnt ash in one’s mouth. Give it up!

Open your windows!

Let in the fresh air and sunlight!

I had two maiden aunts where I first read Chatterley - at, of all places, their forever home in Victoria - Auntie Carmen (Aunt Crisp - as Dad wryly called her) and Aunt Wilhelmina.

Aunt Carmen, the dreamer, was aghast at my reading Chatterley, outré cause célèbre of her youth. Her more practical sister was not. She had quite possibly read it in her youth.

And I? Ever the Aspie Dreamer, I ended up loathing it, like Aunt Carmen. And I wonder if W.H. Auden was thinking of poor, depressive Lawrence when he wrote "never give a gun to a melancholic bore?"

Better days will always await the man that faces each new day with a smile on his face..

Quite unlike the perennial loner - grim, dour Mellors, Lawrence's doppelganger!

Maybe Mellors just needed a woman to clean up after him?

It’s just too bad Mellors and I hadn’t learned to stand up straight.

And you just have to wonder what good girls like the noble Lady Chatterley saw in his type!

Probably just common unbridled lust.

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Connie walked dimly on. From the old wood came an ancient melancholy, somehow soothing to her, better than the harsh insentience of the outer world. She liked the inwardness of the remnant of forest, the unspeaking reticence of the old trees. They seemed a very power of silence, and yet a vital presence. They, too, were waiting: obstinately, stoically waiting, and giving off a potency of silence. Perhaps they were only waiting for the end; to be cut down, cleared away, the end of the forest, for them the end of all things. But perhaps their strong and aristocratic silence, the silence of strong trees, meant something else…As she came out of the wood on the north side, the keeper’s cottage, a rather dark, brown stone cottage, with gables and a handsome chimney, looked uninhabited, it was so silent and alone. But a thread of smoke rose from the chimney, and the little railed-in garden in the front of the house was dug and kept very tidy. The door was shut…Now she was here she felt a little shy of the [keeper], with his curious far-seeing eyes…”
- D. H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley’s Lover


The difficulty in discussing D. H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover is that it has long since ceased being a mere book. Originally banned as obscene in the United Kingdom and the United States – among other countries – it represents a watershed moment in the movement towards free speech and anticensorship. Today, you are just as likely to read this in law school as in an English literature class.

We take for granted the idea that governments should not tell us what to think, write, and read, but when Lady Chatterley’s Lover was first published privately in 1929, such was not the case. Outlawed by legislators, tarred by moralists and scolds, demand for Lawrence’s final novel paradoxically grew in tandem with the efforts to suppress it.

This demand eventually led to a legal fight. In 1960, in the famed case of R v. Penguin Books, Ltd., a jury in the United Kingdom determined that Lady Chatterley’s Lover was not obscene. Around the same time, a United States District court found that its publication was protected by the First Amendment. These decisions, along with others, are now recognized as a turning point in the liberalization of speech, a journey that has led us – for better or worse – to the untamed frontiers of the internet.

In short, Lady Chatterley’s Lover has more baggage than a 19th century tycoon traveling around the world. The challenge, in finally reading it, is to judge it based solely on its merits, rather than its larger impact.

Ultimately, I found that to be impossible.

I liked Lady Chatterley’s Lover fine enough. More than that, I respected it, and appreciated it, because Lawrence’s willingness to say the unsayable pushed back against the then-acceptable notion of closeminded bureaucrats and prudish lawmakers determining the legitimacy of art. Nevertheless, since its legacy is so well known, I’ll try to stick to the substance of Lady Chatterley’s Lover, not its historical echoes.

***

Once you’ve peeled back the layers, the most surprising thing about Lady Chatterley’s Lover is how basic it is at the storytelling level. Lawrence’s tale relies on archetypes, tropes, and cliches, combining the standard love-triangle with a class-transcending romance, all set against the background of fading British aristocrats bemoaning an industrializing world.

The main character is Constance (Connie) Reid, the titular Lady Chatterley, who finds herself in a constricted, near loveless marriage to the immensely rich Sir Clifford. During the First World War, Sir Clifford received a paralyzing injury below the waist. Unlike in Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises, Lawrence is not coy about the consequences. Specifically, Clifford is impotent, and compensates by retreating into a life of the mind, inviting an endless procession of artists and intellectuals to his estate at Wragby.

Connie quickly grows tired of the tedious, pedantic discussions that arise from these meetings – a feeling I shared, as this starts slow – and seeks solace in long walks in the nearby forest. It is in this Edenic parcel that she meets Oliver Mellors, the gamekeeper. Mellors is a pointed example of the hypocrisies of the British class system. Born to a low station, he lifted himself through his military service in India, but finds that however much he climbs, high society will never accept him. Cynically understanding this, Mellors throughout the novel switches between a near-incomprehensible vernacular – which is extremely frustrating to read – and proper English.

Within no time, Connie and Mellors are trysting like rabbits. They are also – or so Lawrence wants us to believe – falling madly in love with each other. Whether or not you believe in the fundamentals of their connection (I certainly did not), they certainly achieve a special union through their lovemaking.

And that’s really why we’re here, isn’t it?

For the sex?

***

Obviously, sex is a basic biological function, necessary for the continuation of a species. For humans, though, it is so much more. It is a powerful motivating force, and a key facet of identity. It can be a consuming compulsion. Channeled healthily, sex can be profoundly meaningful; channeled wrong, and it can lead to dark places. Sex makes people do unwise things without hesitation. It can lead a person to disrupt the status quo, to destroy everything they have, to lie, and to betray.

Unsurprisingly, sex figures largely in fiction – and not simply in romances and erotica – because so much can hinge on this single act.

But even if sex belongs in a mainstream novel, it does not necessarily follow that you want to read about the mechanics of the deed. Dramatic imperatives can still be achieved with the bedroom door closed.

With that said, a warning: if you prefer novelistic carnal knowledge to be transmitted by implication, Lady Chatterley’s Lover is not for you. In this book, Lawrence flings the bedroom door wide open, and just sort of stands there, unmoving, and unblinking.

***

Lawrence’s sex scenes have often been described as “graphic for their time.”

I disagree.

They’re explicit by any measure, including the modern day. To be sure, some of their impact is diluted by unintentionally hilarious euphemisms, including references to the “mound of Venus,” “crises,” and “loins.” But they are also exhaustively recounted, closely observed, and quite numerous. There is a stretch in the middle where it’s just one bedroom session after another, with Mellors exhibiting the refractory abilities of a twenty-year old. There is also a lot of language, with enough f-bombs and c-words to make you wonder if you’ve stumbled onto an episode of Game of Thrones.

***

Accepting that Lady Chatterley’s Lover is softcore uplifted by the trappings of themes, sense of place, and high-level sentence structure, the success or failure of the work as a whole depends on the success or failure of the sex scenes.

In my mind, sex scenes serve three big purposes: (1) to propel the plot; (2) to reveal character; and (3) to stimulate, arouse, or otherwise elicit a response.

The “worst” sex scenes do only the third thing, substituting shock and gratuity for substance. Good scenes usually manage some combination of two out of three.

Sex is best used in a novel when all three elements are joined.

That’s what happens here.

First, Lawrence’s sex scenes not only propel the plot, they are the plot. Without them, there is no conflict. They are used to set up the drama, to move things forward, and to drive the narrative to its – pun intended, sorry – climax.

Second, Lawrence uses his breathless descriptions of consensual adult activity to excavate Connie’s being, unearth her motivations, and vividly reveal the arc of her maturation.

Finally, the sex scenes are evocative. Despite the dated language, a misunderstanding of “the bowels” as a source of desire, the regrettable overuse of the word “phallus,” and a certain repetitiveness, they are expressing a lot.

***

All of this is to say that Lady Chatterley’s Lover lives up to its reputation in realms both highbrow and low. Unlike, say, Tropic of Cancer, which I found to be emptily provocative, Lawrence uses his R-and-X-rated materials for entirely sincere and legitimate purposes. It is for this very reason, after all, that Lady Chatterley’s Lover became such an effective ram to batter down the imposing walls that had bounded and constrained artistic expression for hundreds of years. It is why it will always have a place in the history of both literature and the law.

[Piyangie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lady Chatterley's Lover has been one of the most controversial books of 20th-century classical literature. Branded as pornography and called "the foulest book in English literature", the book has faced severe censure as no other written piece of British literature. Its copies were hunted down. It is true that the book didn't conform to the accepted standard of morality of English literature, but it is by no means "pornography". If you go by the 21st-century standard, you can laugh at the description, for this is no Fifty Shade of Grey. There is nothing erotic in the book, although Lawrence's expression on sex and sensuality is quite bold, perhaps, too bold, for the time it was written.

In criticizing the book for its choice of subject matter and its blunt language, however, those who were responsible for stigmatizing the book have totally failed to appreciate the sensitive themes Lawrence wanted to explore and expose. There is a lot Lawrence says in this comparatively short book, but among all, I would like to see the book foremost as one written about a woman's loneliness, a woman's awakening to sexuality, and a woman's yearning for motherhood.

Constance Reid is stuck in a marriage in which she feels physically and mentally isolated. Her woman's idea of intimacy is constantly thwarted by Clifford, her crippled husband, with his philosophical ideas of intimacy. Constance is affectionate, but this is returned only in half degrees. And in Clifford's pursuance of a life of his own, bending towards success and money, what tenderness and affection remain in them die a slow death. Constance is aware of a void in her life, and a strong need to fill it. She yearns for affection, tenderness, and real intimacy, both physical and mental; she yearns for the fulfillment of herself as a woman; she yearns for motherhood. And she chooses one man, not in her status, not even in her class, to fill her womanly desires, womanly needs. She defies convention and compromises dignity for happiness. Judged by the strict British moral standards, Constance Reid was in the wrong. She had no business to feel the way she did and desert her husband. Women were seldom seen as having an identity of their own, so their needs, their wants were considered unimportant. In a society, where the woman was defined by the standards set by men, it is not surprising that Constance Reid and her story are chastised.

Lawrence's portrayal of Constance Reid (Lady Chatterley) is strong. Her inner feelings are exposed to the minutest detail. We feel her struggle as it was our own, and can both sympathize and empathize with her. In contrast to the strong female character, Lawrence's men are weak. Both Clifford and Oliver Mellors are in a sense impotent and need Constance to define them. But Lawrence has a reason for making his men weak, for he truly believes they are weak because they are dehumanized by industrialization. When men pursue success ('bitch goddess' in Lawrences's words) and prostitute them to reap their reward of money, they become inhuman, with no capacity to feel affection for others, let alone for a woman. Accordingly, human intimacy is killed. This is what happens to Clifford. But, Oliver, on the other hand, is one who swims against the tide, and severely battered for daring to pursue such a path. He needs an anchor to tie him to the ground to prevent him from being washed away by the tide, and Constance is that anchor, the strength that helps him to hold on to the ground.

As I've said earlier, Lawrence talks of many issues through this book, and class distinction plays a key role. Lawrence chooses Lady Chatterley's lover from the working class, to show how severe this distinction operated. If Constance wanted a man, she should have done better to choose one equal in class. This seems to be the general unspoken opinion. The unbelievable hypocrisy of it all was what Lawrence was driving at.

The book is quite expressive on sex and sensuality, and Lawrence's language is, perhaps, indelicate for early 20th-century British literature, but were those the real reasons for censure? Didn't the story bring out the nakedness and hypocrisy of society? Wasn't the very social and political core of Britain subtly attacked? It is said that none other than the then Home Secretary himself, who carried out a "moral crusade" against the distribution of the book on English soil. And why does a man of such power take it upon himself to suppress and censure a piece of literature on sex and sensuality? There is certainly more to the censure than meets the eye, for I think, if the book is controversial, it is truly controversial for all the political, economic, and social truths that it exposes.

[Lena · Rating 1 out of 5]

I usually quite tolerable towards old classics and try to ignore things unacceptable in modern books. But I couldn't find anything good in this one. Even ignoring sexism and homophobia, the story about love has too much hate in it.
First, the toxic masculinity is strong in this one: constant wining that 'real man' are dead, women don't act like they suppose to and humanity is doomed. All this Apocalyptic moods along with romantisizing the past getting more and more annoying with every page.
Second, endless insinuations about love and passion come from a narrator who doesn't believe that women can have sexual desires and describes sex as just an act of submission. And do you really think that their first sexual encounter was consensual? I mean, she was crying and was speechless! How can any of it be romantic if the love interest is an asshole...
Then there's constant lecturing about mental vs physical life. All the characters disagree with each other and there's no middle ground.
Last but not least, absolutely laughable description of orgasm and lust.

[°°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ʜᴇʟᴇɴ Ροζουλί Εωσφόρος ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° ★·.·´¯`·.·★ Ⓥⓔⓡⓝⓤⓢ Ⓟⓞⓡⓣⓘⓣⓞⓡ Ⓐⓡⓒⓐⓝⓤⓢ Ταμετούρο Αμ · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ένα ερωτικο μυθιστόρημα με πλούτο αισθησιασμού και συναισθημάτων. Ένας ύμνος στον έρωτα και τα πάθη της σάρκας με θαυμαστή περιγραφή,χωρις υπερβολές αποδίδεται η σεξουαλικη ένωση δυο κορμιών σε ένα και παρουσιάζεται ως φλογερό αισθησιακό παιχνίδι του μυαλού και του σώματος χωρις χυδαιότητα.
Ακόμη κι όταν χρησιμοποιεί λέξεις με πρόστυχη "ηθική" σημασία στον αναγνώστη περνούν εύκολα στο πλαίσιο που περιγράφονται.

Η ιστορια μας απλή.
Είμαστε στη βρετανική επαρχία την περιοδο της βιομηχανικής επανάστασης.
Εκεί σε κάποιο απο τα πλούσια και λιγοστά σπίτια των προνομιούχων η αριστοκράτισσα λαίδη μαραζώνει και πνίγεται στο πλευρό του ανάπηρου απο τον πόλεμο συζύγου της.
Ο Κλίφορντ Τσάτερλι ειναι ένας σύζυγος που ανήκει στην άρχουσα πνευματική τάξη της εποχής και φυσικά έχει μοναδική επιδίωξη το κέρδος την αυτοπροβολή και την πάταξη της κατώτερης ράτσας - όπως συνηθίζει να αποκαλεί τους εργάτες του και γενικότερα την μάζα των φτωχών και αγραμμάτων.
Ειναι ένας άντρας ανίκανος σεξουαλικά αλλά περισσότερο ανίκανος για ψυχική επαφή και ενσυναίσθηση.

Κάπου εδώ μπαίνει στη ζωή της λαίδης ο επιστάτης του κτήματος και θα τη φέρει σε στενή επαφή με την θηλυκή - ερωτική της ύπαρξη σε βαθμό πολυεπίπεδο και σε μορφή διονυσιακής έκστασης.....

Αυτό που αξίζει να σημειωθεί ειναι η ομοιότητα των οικονομικών - κοινωνικών και πολιτικών καταστάσεων με την εποχή μας.

Οι αλλαγές στην κοινωνία απο το κακό στο χειρότερο. Η αμάθεια, η αμορφωσιά, η χυδαιότητα που χαρακτηρίζει τις χαμηλές κοινωνικές τάξεις οι οποίες καταπιέζονται απο την άρχουσα πολιτική και οικονομική δύναμη και θυσιάζουν τη ζωή τους,την ελευθερία τους, τα δικαιώματα τους και όλη την υπόσταση τους δουλεύοντας νυχθημερόν για να παραμένουν εξαθλιωμένοι και φτωχοί.

Η πιο ειρωνική όμως ομοιότητα του τότε με την εποχή μας ειναι φυσικά τα προβλήματα στις σχέσεις μεταξύ των ανθρωπων και κυρίως των ζευγαριών.
Επικρατούν παραμορφωμένες,ψεύτικες και προδωμενες σχέσεις που τυπικά φαντάζουν τέλειες αλλά ουσιαστικά η επιθυμία για εσωτερική αναζήτησή και σεξουαλική απόλαυση που θα οδηγούσε σίγουρα σε μια βαθιά επικοινωνία αγάπης και κατανόησης λάμπει δια της απουσίας της.

Καλή ανάγνωση.
Πολλούς ασπασμούς.

[Luís · Rating 5 out of 5]

It is a novel, as we like them, with a heroine who wants to live her life physically and morally, but the early twentieth century in England did not allow this kind of situation. Moral values concerning marriage did not allow people to have extramarital relations, despite the worst that could have happened to one of the two spouses.
The author knew how to go beyond these values and rightly wrote a magnificent novel with the most exciting descriptions of human relations, whether moral or physical.

[Paula · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ah, D.H. Lawrence, why are you so awesome?

I think Lawrence is one of those writers you either love or hate, and this is possibly even more true of Lady Chatterley's Lover, his last novel. The author's confidence speaks on every page: firstly, Lawrence has no qualms about interjecting his opinion in the narration throughout. Secondly, the book is from the perspective of a woman, a challenge for any male author, and thirdly (and possibly most famously), the book makes liberal use of "fuck" and "cunt." It's not just that the book is about sexual awakening, it's really about how frank the book's two central characters are about their sexual experiences. Lawrence succeeds more often than not in creating a believable female pscyhe in the figure of Lady Constance Chatterly, and though, as some have pointed out, some moments ring less true than others (as when she refers insistently to her womb), overall she's quite believable. Mellors, the game-keeper she has an affair with, is also quite believable, whether or not you agree with some of his more sexist attitudes towards women. As for the sex bits, I laughed several times at the sheer effort Lawrence goes through to try to describe what a female orgasm might feel like. Really, a bravura performance! As a woman, I can say that to my mind he gets it pretty right. Even where the language is stilted or embarassing, I could see what Lawrence was trying at: a totally frank, unashamed look at sex. His book is a big cry against all those who would rather not talk about it, and maybe that's triumph enough. But the book is engaging, frequently funny, and finally, as a last novel, a beautiful piece of hopefulness from a notoriously cynical author.

[Fernando · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Ella hubiera pensado que una mujer habría muerto de vergüenza. En lugar de eso, la vergüenza murió.
Sintió que el diablo retorcía la cola y fingió que eran los ángeles que le sonreían."

"El amante de lady Chatterley" es una de las novelas más polémicas y escandalosas del siglo XX ya que D.H. Lawrence la publicó en 1928 luego de una intensa batalla legal contra la censura por abordar con alto voltaje el tema de la sexualidad explícita ya desde las primeras páginas.
Lo que para otros autores (Flaubert con su "Madame Bovary" es el caso más conocido) fue un verdadero dolor de cabeza, para Lawrence también fue objeto de inconvenientes, ataques y repudio e incluso proviniendo de otros escritores, tal es el caso de Virginia Woolf.
Es que fue una maniobra realmente arriesgada publicar este libro sin que los editores hicieran caso omiso, puesto que el desenfreno erótico de algunas escenas cuando Constance Chatterley se encuentra con su amante, el guardabosques Oliver Mellors exceden la imaginación de muchos en esa época.
Si muchos creen que "Cincuenta sombras de Grey" es la novela erótica más importante, deberían leer este libro si tenemos en cuenta que Lawrence lo escribió hace 92 años atrás.
Trayendo a colación la novela de Flaubert, debo reconocer que Lawrence empuja la cuestión del adulterio muchísimo más allá que el escritor francés (que ya se había arriesgado demasiado para 1857, puesto que fue llevado a juicio por ofender la moral y religión francesas) ya que Constance Chatterley es una auténtica descendiente de Emma Bovary, con el agregado de que es más osada y su desparpajo de adulterio está orientado a la plena satisfacción sexual sin importarle las consecuencias y resulta imposible no comparar (al menos no de manera exhaustiva) ambas novelas ya que uno va encontrando ciertas analogías y similitudes dado que el tema central del adulterio se replica.
Por un lado, lo que a Emma la atormenta, ""¿Por qué, Dios mío, me habré yo casado?" Se preguntaba si no hubiera sido posible, gracias a otras combinaciones del azar, encontrar otro marido; y trataba de imaginarse cuáles habrían sido entonces aquellos acontecimientos no realizados, aquella vida diferente, aquel marido que no conocía. No todos los hombres, en efecto, eran parecidos al suyo", adquiere significación en la psique de Connie: "Para Connie, todo en su mundo y su vida parecía agotado, y su insatisfacción era más antigua que las colinas".
Ese constante inconformismo y la necesidad de despegarse de sus maridos (Charles Bovary, Clifford Chatterley), las arrastrará a esa necesidad de saciar su pasión con ese amante que las saque del letargo matrimonial que están viviendo.
Párrafo aparte, debemos resaltar que se nota claramente las ideas radicales que Lawrence centra durante el proceso de escritura de la novela, ya que se declaraba abiertamente homosexual y había sido atacado sin piedad por la sociedad de su época como en el siglo anterior le había sucedido a Oscar Wilde.
De manera casi contestataria, los temas inherentes a la sexualidad eran disparadas a través de las acciones y los pensamientos de sus personajes del mismo modo que lo hacía el gran escritor irlandés.
En el caso de Connie, esta comienza a impregnarse del mismo inconformismo que de Emma Bovary. Ya nada la satisface y Clifford nada puede hacer. Su objetivo es amar otro hombre y para ello se vale de cualquier herramienta que le sea válida, especialmente la seducción con la que termina atrapando a Mellors.
Se puede establecer también ciertas congruencias entre Clifford y Charles Bovary, ambos, los grandes "perjudicados" a causa de los actos adúlteros de sus mujeres.
Pero lo que diferencia a Clifford de Charles es que el marido de lady Chatterley, confinado a una silla de ruedas y sin posibilidad ya de acercamientos íntimos con su mujer es de una mentalidad abierta a punto tal de que le ofrece a Connie la posibilidad de quedar embarazada de otro hombre (propuesta verdaderamente indecente de por sí y muy discutida también), mientras que Charles nunca se entera de nada sino hasta el final de la novela.
Las acciones de esta novela transcurren entre dos locaciones de Inglaterra, que son Wragby y Tevershall y lo que los diferencia es que Wragby goza de cierta reputación, mientras que Tevershall es un pequeño pueblo de gente minera y de esta forma Lawrence establece las diferencias sociales imperantes en sus años con el contraste que eso genera entre las personas.
Además de las distintas temáticas abordadas en esa novela en donde la sexualidad y el adulterio son las más importantes para Lawrence, el autor hace también mucho énfasis en su resistencia al modernismo y el progreso.
La visión negativa de Oliver Mellors sobre el futuro y el progreso, además de la condena que hace con el tema del dinero es la de Lawrence mismo, ya que el autor declara al dinero como el generador de todos los males del mundo así también como la escala en las posiciones sociales o manejo indiscriminados de las masas a través del poder y la riqueza en detrimento de toda calidad humana.
El mensaje de Lawrence no puede ser más pesimista pero increíblemente, sus vaticinios se hicieron realidad dos años más tarde cuando estalla la crisis financiera del '30 en los Estados Unidos. Este descalabro económico será tomado por otros autores en sus novelas, tal es el caso de Francis Scott Fitzgerald y William Faulkner.
Lawrence enfatiza su desprecio por el dinero, por el efecto corruptor que genera en el hombre y en cierto modo lo afirma a través de Melllors cuando dice "No creo en el mundo, ni en el dinero, ni en el progreso ni en el futuro de nuestra civilización. Para que la humanidad tenga un futuro es preciso será preciso que cambie mucho con respecto a lo que ahora es. El dinero envenena cuando se tiene, y mata de hambre cuando se carece de él."
Volviendo a la historia de Constance, Clifford y Mellors, destaco nuevamente la osadía y la valentía de Oliver para describir en 1928 escenas no eróticas sino explícitamente sexuales, durante los encuentros de Connie con su amante el guardabosques, dado que entendamos lo que significó para Inglaterra, un país conservador, flemático y muy pacato en lo que a la temática de la sexualidad atañe, encontrarse con una novela de este calibre en la segunda década del siglo XX.
Al abordar también su visión particular de la naturaleza de las mujeres, el autor también se metió en problemas, especialmente con aquellos grupos de feministas quienes lo destrozaron pública y literariamente al sentirse atacadas por frases como esta: "Cuando una mujer queda absolutamente poseída por su voluntad, con la proa contra todo se transforma en un ser temible al que debiera estar permitido matar a tiros."
Es indudablemente que frases como esta iban a caer mal y debido a esto sacaron a la luz la condición homosexual de Lawrence para difamarlo y denigrarlo públicamente. La novela tuvo tres versiones distintas hasta que con el correr de los años (y del progreso mental de mucha gente) se publicó sin censuras tal como la podemos leer hoy.
Como único punto flojo de esta novela puedo decir que en cierto modo el final es muy abrupto y abierto, como si a Lawrence se le hubieran terminado las ideas o la posibilidad de escribir un final más logrado, ya que deja la historia en suspenso y decide terminarla con una carta. Me llevaría mucho tiempo encontrar una novela que termine así, ya que en cierto modo borronea todo lo bueno que leemos en todo el resto del libro, pero que más allá de todo, deja bien claro que como sostengo al principio, "El amante de lady Chatterley" es pionera, polémica, escandalosa y arriesgada, pero sobre todas las cosas, digna de ser leída.

[Henry Avila · Rating 3 out of 5]

Is love all, nothing else matters , no rules, customs, loyalty and the old-fashioned if you excuse me, word, morals. In Lady Chatterley's Lover this is the presumed subject of the 1928 controversial book by the British writer D.H. Lawrence, banned as too explicit and censored for forty years in America and numerous other nations. However the world never stops but it moves forward or backwards depending on your point of view but it moves. Today the novel would not cause a small ripple on a smooth , clear pond. Sir Clifford Chatterley an aristocrat, a wounded soldier of the recent World War 1, paralyzed from the waist down living in a Manor House , a beautiful wife Constance , plenty of money and servants during the roaring 20s, the age of Jazz and the Flapper, what glorious luck and happiness he enjoys...except for a little malfunction, life with be perfect. Enter our third main character the lowly gamekeeper a peasant and ardent nonconformist Oliver Mellors. He resides in a slight but comfortable shack alone, employed on Sir Clifford's estate with his dog Flossie, female naturally, still a persistent visitor eases his isolation. The unhappy, bored Lady Chatterley, starts a strange liaison not her first, and instantly commences with a lower class individual, scandalous not a proper choice , a married sensual man whose slutty wife left to be with another, a messy situation, a secret for how long? Hilda, Constance's older sister is not pleased, disgusted even but is powerless. Mrs. Bolton a widow becomes nurse to the disabled husband and soon admirer. Sounds like a silly soap opera but the real object by Mr. Lawrence is ostensibly sexual freedom, still wrong again folks, it's a male fancy of licentious indulges , silly laughable sex scenes where women become things to play with and love banded about to make them feel liberated from the outside, appalled world. The taboo is gone so is the merits of this, the philosophy doesn't compute in modern times or make sense. This classic is not that anymore but an obtuse narrative which embarrasses.

[Steven Godin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Though this maybe looked at as the book that bought sex writing to the masses, 'Lady Chatterley’s Lover' delivers more than just the oohs and aahs of an elicit love affair, it can also be seen as a parable of post-war England, and the steady rise in modernism. It even features a dog called Flossie. Why is this significant to me? Because I once had a childhood dog with the same name, bless her soul.

Slammed and banned for being pornographic back in the day, this caused a storm. Now it's just a small ripple in a teacup. As compared to the work of today it's sexual nature barely raises the eyebrows. It does contain many a rude word that I can image would have left folk back then with rosy red blushed cheeks. But today, I am sure even a nun wouldn't be overly shocked by it's naughty bits.

Lady Chatterley (Constance, Connie) is the bored wife of Sir Clifford, a war cripple who returns to his family estate, amid the decay and unemployment of the industrial towns in middle England.
He takes to books as a way to withdraw, and applies himself feverishly to an attempt to retrieve his coal mines by the application of different methods. He is clearly an unhappy man, who suffers inner turmoil that he can't take to pleasuring his wife. She in turn is unfulfilled, and one fine day bumps into the gamekeeper, Oliver Mellors, and feelings start to bubble up inside towards this man, whom she knows little about. Surrounded by woodland, where it's easy to wander off undetected, Connie slowly is drawn sexually to Mellors, who has his way with her, opening her to an awakening that Sir Clifford simply could not provide.

Mellors, a child of the collieries and whom also served in the forces, slips into disillusion away from his wife and leads a solitary existence with just his dog for company. Sir Clifford, who since he is unable to give Connie a child himself, accepts the fact an illegitimate child is an option. But the last person on his mind would have been Mellors, he has no inkling of his wife's affair, but is open to the idea of another man having sex with her. Does he truly love her? or is this just a ploy so he can proudly gain his heir. Does Mellors love her? or just after the sex. For Connie, difficult decisions would arise. And with her sister, takes a break to Venice to ponder on her future.

Lawrence’s treatment of his subject's is done with a manner of intelligence, and compared to the likes of an E. M. Forster, does a good job of presenting his characters as flawed and believable.
The story is raw with power, yes, but also brings to the table the age old problem of melodrama.
It's not huge, but for me, did affect the overall feel for the story. Each in their own way on a more positive note, the three main characters do carry a certain heroic dignity, a symbolical importance
that's difficult to ignore. Lawrence utilizes the self-affirmation and triumph of life in the teeth of all the destructive powers that be, industrialism, physical depletion, dissipation, careerism and cynicism—of modern England, and in general, he has given a noble account of it. There is more like two stories in one going on here, the mixture of romance and sexually explicit details and the double background of the collieries and the English forests, possesses both solid reality and poetic grandeur.

This is so much more than a novel with fruity bits, it is a work which explores how the naturalness of love and sexual attraction is distorted and perverted by society. It has me pondering a lot on the non-sexual aspects of the story. There's a lot of insight here, and plenty of social commentary, so reading this purely because of the smutty reputation it gained then prepare be disappointed.

Beautifully written for the most part, although Mellors is a hard nut to crack with his use of dialogue at times, and some aspects of the story seemed unnecessary, but just glad to have now finally read it, to see what all the fuss was about.

[Carol · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 Stars

Well.........I can certainly see why LADY CHATTERLEY'S LOVER was banned soon after publication back in 1928.

So okay, you already know or anticipate that this particular classic is going to contain vulgarity and erotic situations, but for the life of me, I never thought it would be a combination of tedium and humor.

The story is rather unremarkable in itself, and pretty much given away in the book summary, so no spoiler here......

Aristocratic (and highly superior in his own mind) upperclass man marries well-to-do spoiled and free-spirited daddies girl. He goes off to war, comes back injured and impotent. Fickle, bored and depressed young wife finds comfort elsewhere.........

What will stick in my mind is not the plot or actual sexual encounters, but the many priceless conversations from 'the boys' point of view on morality, distinctions between social classes and ridiculous beliefs about intimate relationships. (Lady Chatterley's opinion of the uninspiring male physique is pretty memorable too)

Check out this quote: "I can't see I do a woman any more harm by sleeping with her than by dancing with her.....or even talking to her about the weather."......and that's just one example, but worst of all......the one exclamation that really stands out......is lover #1's exasperating ranting and raving about Lady C's prolonged mode of sexual exertions that inconvenienced him. Oh. My. God!

Anyway, my first D. H. Lawrence novel was indeed entertaining, but slow going and repetitive with not much of a storyline. Glad I finally read it though and love my Penguin Classics book cover!

[Dem · Rating 1 out of 5]

Book Club Read for November for Sit in Book Club.

I finished this book only because it was a bookclub read and in order to discuss a book at meetings I really feel I need the full story. I thought this book was crap and I will try to explain my reasons why.

The Novel was banned and I do think that if it hadn't been banned this book would have had no impact what so ever and very few people would have bothered to pick it up to read.

The book was written back in the 1920s and I really do think that D H Lawerence set out to shock his readers and I can imagine for a book of its time he succeeded in doing so. The Novel really doesn't have any of the qualities of what I have come to expect a classic to have, The language is coarse, the characters boring and dull and the plot is poor. I never got a sense of time or place that a classic normally delivers. It was extremely repetitive. I don't think the book has stood the test of time for the right reasons and I cant see much of a discussion in this Novel. This is only my opinion and time will tell how the group rates the book.

A boring and dull read and didn't compare with any of the other classics I have read previously.

[Sawsan · Rating 4 out of 5]

كتابات ديفيد هربرت لورنس كانت تُعد صادمة في أوائل القرن العشرين
اهتم عموما بالعلاقات الانسانية بمختلف أشكالها وخاصة بين الرجل والمرأة
بجانب رؤيته ونقده للأحوال الاجتماعية والاقتصادية في بلده انجلترا

من خلال علاقة بين الليدي تشاترلي وحارس الصيد في الأرض المملوكة لزوجها
يعرض لورنس التوازن بين الجانب الجسدي والعقلي في حياة الانسان
الرغبات والمشاعر التي يحتاج إليها كل شخص بحسب طبيعته
حالات الضعف التي تتحول إلى شيء من الاستحواذ والتملك للآخرين
وعرض أيضا بمهارة صورة عامة للطبقات الاجتماعية
العمال والسادة مُلاك الأرض والمناجم, وحقيقة نظرة كل منهم للآخر
رواية نُشرت عام 1928 مكتوبة بأسلوب هادئ وجميل
إدانة للحروب والتمييز الطبقي, والتعالي المستند على المال والمكانة
ورفض الفكر الذي يدعو للتسامي لكنه قائم على التصنُع والزيف

[Amber · Rating 5 out of 5]

I bought this book in high school because it was cheap and I thought that because I was going to be a big, bad Enlglish major in college, I should probably expand my literary repertoire. I also thought it might be a little racy, given the title, which piqued my interest. Fast forward seven and a half years and I am now a big, bad graduate of American Studies (Chaucer killed me on the spot, and I changed majors immediately), and I had yet to read this book. I picked it up off my shelf about 2 weeks ago, and had trouble putting it down until I was finished. I love this book for its philsophical interrogation of the class system, which even 80 years later is still quite relevant, and because it questions what true love really is. Is it physical? Is it mental? Can you have one without the other? It's not perfectly written, and some parts are a little too stream of consciousness for my liking, but overall, it really moved me in a weird way. And, yes, it's quite racy, even by today's standards. No wonder it was banned until 1960!

[Dave Schaafsma · Rating 4 out of 5]

“There's a bad time coming, boys, there's a bad time coming! If things go on as they are, there's nothing lies in the future but death and destruction, for these industrial masses.”

I first read Lady Chatterley’s Lover when I was 14, in 1967. I felt I had to hide it well from my mother, so kept it between my mattresses. It was the first book I read with explicit sexual passages, and the first time I had read words no one in my house or neighborhood yet used, visceral words used proudly and unashamedly to describe what were for Lawrence holy acts and body parts. But the first third of it is not focused on sex; much of it describes conversations among characters about politics, art, class, and sure, sex. Lawrence connected the dots between industrialization, certain aspects of masculinity we now call "toxic", class, war, in conflict with and shaping the arts, love, relationships, and sex. This guy the literary establishment now largely dismisses for various reasons may still remind us of where we went wrong. First published privately in 1928, it was banned in many countries. In 1960 there was an obscenity trial with this book at the center, and the publisher, Penguin, won their case, after which it sold 3 million copies in the first year.

Sexual intercourse began
In nineteen sixty-three
(which was rather late for me) -
Between the end of the "Chatterley" ban
And the Beatles’ first LP—Philip Larkin

Lady Chatterley was born Connie Reid, raised as an upper-middle class bohemian, familiar early on with free love/affairs and a generally liberal approach to politics and social ideas. In 1917 (with WWI still on), she marries Clifford Chatterley, an aristocrat who goes to war one month after they are married, and is paralyzed from the waist down, impotent. He becomes a successful writer, he becomes a coal baron, and drifts apart from Connie, who hates her husband’s writing, and the coal industry, especially what owners do to workers. She has a short, unsatisfying affair with Michaelis, a playwright, but finds her ideal physical and spiritual man in Oliver Mellors, the gamekeeper on Chatterley's estate, also newly returned from serving in the army.

Mellors was well-educated, but he came back from the war to separate from an unsatisfactory relationship with his wife Bertha, and live alone—without women, but also outside of society and its empty materialism. He chooses to live as a working-class man, and to speak in the manner of his Darby upbringing and to be honest about his preference for the body and nature over the life of the mind and society. He and Connie choose each other, and begin an affair that is still well known in literary fiction for good reason. Sexual healing! And in a hut, not a mansion! Better?! Obviously!

Roughly 100 years later we are aware of some of his ideas as not quite up to contemporary feminist standards, but Connie chooses him because he is tender-hearted as lover and generally as a man. And socialist, anti-materialist; oh, and the kind of lover she is looking for. The original title of the book was Tenderness, and this is the central theme of the novel for relationships and society, the feeling of complete yielding and sensitivity to each other that can happen in a tender-hearted relationship.

So what does the roughly cynical and somewhat callous Mellors believe, finally?

“I believe in that little flame between us.” This “flame” was created by mutually satisfying sex and nurtured through “tenderness.”

Mellors is initially skeptical that a woman with as much money as Connie could ultimately give it all up for him, but in time they both see that their passionate relationship can set them apart from society and feed each other’s needs. Sex is seen as pure creativity, as a kind of sacrament.

Some other themes that are familiar in Lawrence here: Body is better than mind; nature is better than machines; materialism, money, and the greed of the upper classes are destroying the planet. How to regenerate? Good democratic relationships, integrity, wholeness. Anarchism, socialism, communism as alternatives to capitalism. Class issues are addressed throughout. Lawrence sides with the working class, for sure.

“Their whole life depends on spending money, and now they’ve got none to spend. That’s our civilization and our education: bring up the masses to depend entirely on spending money, and then the money gives out.”

“If you could only tell them that living and spending isn't the same thing! But it's no good. If only they were educated to live instead of earn and spend, they could manage very happily. . .”

Obscenity? Two, to my mind even better Lawrence books, The Rainbow and Women in Love also were seen as pornographic. So at one point Mellors redefines obscenity in his own terms in this book:

“Obscenity only comes in when the mind despises and fears the body, and the body hates and resists the mind.”

After being accused of writing pornography in those earlier books, D. H. Lawrence defiantly makes his most explicit book. Lady Chatterley was inspired by Frieda von Richthofen, who left her husband to marry Lawrence. But it’s less romance than a commentary on contemporary society in case you wanted more of a steamy romance. Lots of social criticism undermine that buzz, sorry.

“There, in the world of the mechanical greedy, greedy mechanism and mechanized greed, sparkling with lights and gushing hot metal and roaring with traffic, there lay the vast evil thing, ready to destroy whatever did not conform. Soon it would destroy the wood, and the bluebells would spring no more. All vulnerable things must perish under the rolling and running of iron.”

I think The Rainbow and Women in Love are better books, but I still think this is a great book. It introduced me, as a young teen, looking for obscenity, to, well, that, for sure, but also to a world of ideas perfect for growing up in the sixties with its exploration of alternatives to racism and materialism and war. Make love, not war, was the sixties cry, back to nature, and this book was an anthem to those cries. Love one another? Lawrence saw it would save us all from war and the alienation of civilization. Huh! Maybe he had something, there.

So why the very low Goodreads rating average? I think it might be that people here this is a "hot" sex book, and are disappointed it is so socio-political. You have to wait half the book to get to the sex, and some people critique the early twentieth century sexual relations in it? Not sure. I still like it, and there are good film versions.

[Georgia Scott · Rating 5 out of 5]

Love is the music that persuades us to dance in another's arms. To some it is as long as symphonies full of violins. To others it is a quick drum beat made with bare palms. Two whistled notes might make one person jump and whirl like a top. For someone else, love is a more intricate tune. This book is testimony to that.

D. H. Lawrence lets us into the most private moments which apart from death anyone can have. He makes us look into that hut in the woods where these lovers lie. And in the mud, too. Oh, but the flowers! There are so many and such different kinds.

It's not an easy read. Some passages, I'll admit, took me several tries. But it is worth the effort. Ours as the readers. His as a writer. Lawrence claims he wanted to call it "Tenderness." That surprised me at first. Then, I thought it's true. "To me," Lawrence has said, "it is beautiful and tender and frail as the naked self is." He didn't mention any music. That's for us to imagine.

[Kelly · Rating 2 out of 5]

Okay, DH, so I was sort of with you at the beginning. I was amused by or interested in watching you create a tale that seemed to be a love child of the Lost Gen and existentialist authors that instead turned out a rebelliously nostalgic Romantic, a perverted Wordsworth in a Bacchanalian temple. I rolled my eyes at, yet went along with, the endless repetition, of "everything is nothing," by your twit of a main character, Connie, or at poor Sir Clifford who builds endless castles of theories in the air to escape every basic feeling in his life, or even at first the brooding, fighting "hero," in Oliver Mellors. I excused it as Lost Gen disillusionment, a depiction of people afraid to feel after the masses' passion overflowed in the horror that was WWI. I was even sort of rooting for you against the cold, cold people who can't let go enough to feel something. The one thing I did like was the way you could conjure up ecstatic joy in earthiness. I'm on board with that.

But unfortunately, after the love scene/pagan naming ceremony of which we shall not speak, and the comments about how women with "too much will" are lesbians and/or invalid women somehow, you made the ecstatic love you celebrated absolutely ridiculous by the end. I can't even bring myself to discuss that last scene in the book, but if you've read it you know what our payoff was. Really? Really?


The obscenity trials are the best thing that ever happened to this book.

[Saranya ⋆☕︎ ˖ [hibernating] · Rating 1 out of 5]

TW: 18+
Foolish me thought all classics would be clean and wonderful. I was proved wrong for the first time on this matter. This novel was the literary equivalent of being promised a romantic countryside stroll and instead stumbling into a very explicit nature documentary.

If you’ve ever wondered what happens when a novelist decides to rebel against the British stiff upper lip by writing a story where everyone’s lower half gets far more attention—this is it. The infamous tale of forbidden love between an aristocrat’s wife and her rugged gamekeeper is less about emotional depth and more about anatomical exploration. JEEZ

Sure, there are themes of class divide, post-war trauma and the search for authentic connection. But let’s be honest: those are just the polite appetizers before the author serves up a full-course meal of earthy euphemisms and woodland rendezvous. The prose often feels like it’s trying to seduce the reader—and not in a charming Mr. Darcy way, but more like a sweaty Mellors muttering poetic innuendo in a shed.

Scandalous!!!

Pre-Read
This book had been banned till 1960.
:)
Must be really atrocious!

[Megi Bulla · Rating 3 out of 5]

Può sembrare un romance, ma nulla di più lontano.
È a tutti gli effetti una denuncia verso la società patriarcale dell'inizio 900.

Si parla di rivendicazione del proprio corpo e della propria voce, di essere più di una moglie o di un organo in grado di generare eredi, di piacere femminile, di salute mentale e di abbandono.

Pubblicato inizialmente nel 1928, messo al bando per poi essere ripubblicato solo nel 1960 (30 anni dopo la morte dell'autore), parla di aborto, precauzione anticoncezionale e fecondazione in vitro. Contiene contenuti sessuali, anche se presentati con linguaggio aulico e mai troppo esplicito, ma credo che il vero motivo per cui fosse stato bandito dipese dalla relazione adulterina tra la moglie di un nobile e un uomo appartenente alla classe lavoratrice.

Una scrittura a tratti troppo lenta e a tratti frenetica. L'interpretazione di Alberto Onofrietti (Audible) è molto godibile, ma non fa miracoli nei paragrafi più descrittivi.
Ho odiato ogni personaggio maschile in questo libro, compreso Mellors.
Nel complesso è un libro che mi ha fatto pensare, ma che mi ha lasciato non poco interdetta. Non credo di averlo amato, ma nemmeno odiato.

3 stelle piene

[Leo · Rating 3 out of 5]

I only had 26% left of this book but I feel myself struggling with almost everybook I currently reading and it's not doing so great with my mental health. So for that reason I've decided to pick about 5 away. I have a tendency to continue books I don't feel completely hooked on but sometimes it's not just worth it

---

3.5 stars. Constance Chatterley is stuck in a marriage that isn't intimate in anyway. Not mentally and not sexually. She yearns it and finds it with another man. When this was published in 1928 this was shocking and taboo (a woman having sexually desire? Oh my) and banned in many countries for the constant. But not surprisingly its not extreme nowdays. Maybe the cheating part but quite understandable taking the context to the time it was written and the little progress women's life had progressed. I liked the themes and so on. But I didn't find it very entertaining to read but I'm very glad I've read it. I confused this book with madam bovery, that I've read years ago and therefore thought I've already read it. It wasn't until it didn't end as I suspected that I realised it was a complete different book.

[daria ❀ · Rating 2 out of 5]

i would’ve banned this shit too lmao

[رغد فريحات · Rating 4 out of 5]

الليدي كوني تشاترلي , امرأة من الطبقة الأرستقراطية الإنجليزية , وزوجة للسير تشاترلي وهو مالك ارض في انجلترا

في سن 23 ، تزوجت كوني من كليفلورد ، و بعد شهر العسل ، أُرسل إلى الحرب ، وعاد مشلولًا من الجزء السفلي لجسده ليصبح أسيرا لكرسي العجلات، وعاجزا عن أداء واجباته الزوجية



يتحول كليفورد للكتابة ليصبح كاتبًا ناجحًا ، بينما تشعر كوني بالعزلة والوحدة

تتوق كوني للحصول على إتصال بشري حقيقي وعلاقة جميلة عاطفية

تزداد المسافة بين كوني وكليفلورد الذي اصبح هوسه تحقيق النجاح في كتاباته , لتنمو فجوة بينهما عاطفيًا على الرغم من التقارب الفكري والحواري بينهما




في الفراغ والوحدة العاطفية الذي تعيشه كوني ، يظهر حارس غابة ارض زوجها أوليفر ميلورز

. ميلورز شخصية ذات طبيعة منعزلة وساخرة، عاد من الحرب حديثًا ووجد عمل يتنعم فيه بوجوده لوحده دون اضظراره للتعامل مع البشر

مع الوقت , تشعر كوني بفضول وإنجذاب له بنبله وعزلته الهادئة

تبدأ شعلة غريبة بينهما , وتبدأ كوني في زياراتها المتكررة للكوخ الذي يعيش فيه ميلوز لتصاحبه براحة لوحدهما

تنشأ بينهما علاقة حميمية في أحضان الطبيعة ويبدآن معاً حياة جديدة

لكن ماتزال هناك مسافة تفصل بينهما




على الرغم من ذلك , تريد كوني ان تحمل بطفل من ميلورز , لأنه بنظرها رجل حقيقي , على عكس المثقفين الخاليين من العواطف بدون الصفات الإنسانية من الطبقات العليا مثل زوجها , الذي لا يمانع ان تحظى زوجته بعلاقات عاطفية اخرى وحتى بالحصول على طفل من احدى علاقاتها ليجعله وريث له , بشرط ان لا يعرف من هو الأب والحفاظ على نظام حياتهما



عندما تعجبت كوني من تفكير كليفلورد بهذه الطريقة وبعدم ارادته بمعرفة الأب , فسر لها أنه يثق بطبيعتها في الإحتشام والانتقاء، بأنها لن تدع النوع الدنيء من الرجال يلمسها , والنوع الدنيء من الرجال في نظره ليس فكريًا او اخلاقيًا , بل الدنيء بالمستوى المادي والإجتماعي بكونه خارج الطبقة الارستقراطية و أحد العامة او العاملين





حينما حاول لورنس نشر الرواية رفض الناشرين عمله، بحجة الإباحية التي وصف بها العلاقة الحميمة بين الليدي تشاترلي وعشيقها، مما دفعه إلى طباعتها سرا وتوزيعها , ثم أعاد كتابتها مرة ثانية وثالثة وأصر على عدم حذف أي كلمة من روايته

كان لورَنس يكره الأرستقراطية الإنجليزية والتحيز الطبقي والاحتشام المتكلف في الحديث عن العلاقات الحميمية




تدور الرواية ببساطة عن طبيعة العلاقة بين الرجل والمرأة، وصراع الحب والعلاقات الجسدية وصراع الطبقات الإجتماعية

علاقة الحب في هذه الرواية تمرد على المظاهر الإجتماعية التي تضع فواصل وفوارق بين الطبقات والتقاليد الزائفة والتصنع والتي فعليًا بسببها تم منع نشر روايته لا لجرأتها او تشجيعها للفجور وخدش الحياء لأن كل هذه الأشياء كانت سائدة في اوروبا بشكل عام في ذلك الزمن , بل لتحطيمها الحواجز الإجتماعية بكتابة رواية فيها علاقة تجمع بين زوجة سيد إرستقراطي رفيع المكانة بحارس عادي من العامة وفي ذلك اهانة لهذا المجتمع الإرستقراطي



عجز كليفورد جاء رمزيًا بالشلل , كان الشلل الحقيقي هو شلل مشاعره وطريقة تفكيره العقيمة على الرغم من كونه كاتب مثقف ولكن كان له فكر عنصري طبقي يظن ان العاملين مجرد الآت وحيوانات لإمثاله من الأثرياء واصحاب المصالح والأراضي وكان يخيفه تكوين علاقات تتعدى حدود الطبقات الإجتماعية

تغاضيه عن رغبة كوني الملحة بوجود علاقة حسية عاطفية بينهما كان عجز اخر ولا علاقة لهذا فقط بإهماله للحاجة الحميمية بين الزوجين بغض النظر عن شلله , فهو نفر من العلاقات الجسدية والحسية والفيزيائية بعد شلله وارغم كوني على الإكتفاء بالعلاقة الفكرية بينهما

وليزيح عنه الشعور بالذنب لحرمانها من الحب والعاطفة التي كانت تحتاجها , سمح لها بأن تحظى باي علاقة تريد مع أي رجل أخر وهي على ذمته فأوهم نفسه انها اذا اشبعت حاجتها الجسدية واراحته من هذا العبئ ستكون سعيدة ومكتفية وستبقى معه للأبد

هذه التجربة الفظيعة بهذا العمر الصغير جعلت كوني جائعة للحب والعاطفة مع رجل حقيقي يحبها ولا يتخلى عنها



كانت الليدي تشاترلي ترى نفسها تشيخ وجسدها يذبل في البيت الإرستقراطي هذا

روحها وجسدها كانا ينتعشان ويعودان للحياة في غابة الحارس





هذه الرواية تعكس نظرة لورنس بأنه يرى ان المجتمع الصناعي والطبقي مميت واتباع الغرائز العاطفية الطبيعية التي تقود للحب هي الحاجة الحقيقية للرجال والنساء .



بالنهاية يجب ان يكون القارئ غير سطحي وان يفرق بين العمل الإباحي الرخيص الذي لا فكرة منه والعمل الجريء الذي اتى من مجتمع وعالم لا يشبه عالمنا بفكرة معينة

الرواية تتمحور حول علاقة غير شرعية وهي امر غير مقبول اخلاقيًا ودينيًا يجب ان نفرق بين فكرة قبول حدوث هذه العلاقات وتشجيعها وفكرة قرائتها واخذ الفائدة والجمال العاطفي منها بدون اصدار الأحكام والتهويل فما نقرأ هو بالفعل يحدث بالحياة الواقعية

[Daniel Clausen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Before I can say anything about the novel, I have to talk about the novel's first paragraph. I love novel openings sometimes more than I love novels themselves. This novel has one of the best first paragraphs ever, to be ranked with "A Tale of Two Cities".

"Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We've got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen."

It almost seems like this is a first paragraph for another novel entirely -- certainly not a novel about bored housewives and sexual affairs. The first paragraph, of course, is a reference to the end of WWI, but it could speak to any of a number of times...the end of the French Revolution, the end of the Second World War, or even our own times. It is certainly not a paragraph about ennui.

But in the wake of that first paragraph, I do need to think about the novel as a complete novel...and in this way, I feel like the first paragraph is an obstacle, because this is a novel about ennui, sexual desire, married life...and at times, also about class antagonisms and the relentlessness of progress.

This latter themes -- class antagonism and the relentlessness of modernity -- clearly put the book in its late 1920s milieu. Presumably, the book was finished before the start of the Great Depression. But you can see the anxieties about the onset of the industrial world. You can see the intellectual class's mixed feelings toward Bolshevism. These themes come out in rich -- and often moralizing -- language.

"This is history. One England blots out another. The mines had made the halls wealthy. Now they were blotting them out as they had already blotted out the cottages. The industrial England blots out the agricultural England. One meaning blots out another. The new England blots out the old England. And the continuity is not organic, but mechanical."

How would we write this passage today?

"This is (e)history (as seen from an updated Wikipedia post, which may or may not have been written by a hack). One world (digital) blots out another (analog). Now the anonymous "they" were posting their messages over truth. Now data wrangling was used to make truth anolog, disposable. The digital was blotting out the world. Fake, truth, digital, analog...in the great tide of (e)history, everyone's worlds were becoming private, mobile, cellular, applications to consume, worlds were becoming endlessly self-referential. There was no continuity, only the endless stream of streaming data that refused to flow in any kind of logic the (analog) world had known."

Is that how D.H. Lawrence would have written about our times. LOL :) #D.H. Lawrence Deletes his Facebook Account ;)

And, even in the shadow of the book's great first paragraph, I feel like the book is a great one.

It is, however, excessively ponderous in its word choice...it is full of internal monologue, narration (telling not showing), romantic language...it is a modern book written in Victorian language.

...for me, this is fine. Because modern writing, which frowns on the excessive and unnecessary often leaves me unfulfilled (not unlike Lady Chatterley). A book about dirty, sordid sex, shouldn't be too modern...it should smack of the Victorian.

A final word about D.H. Lawrence -- I wonder how women feel about this book. If he does succeed at writing the character of Lady Chatterley, if women think he pulls this off as good as or better than female writers, then he has really done something marvelous as a writer -- something I'm not sure I'd be able to pull off myself.

[Anwen Hayward · Rating 2 out of 5]

--spoilers--

SCENE: a bleak house. Not in the Dickensian way, but in the way that houses can be bleak through the absence of light, or the presence of a loveless marriage, or the setting for a novel about privileged upper class people who simply can't stand one another, but won't leave one another because it would be improper and there would be too much paperwork, which would clutter up the drawing room.

CONNIE: I'm ever so bored here, Clifford. Also, sometimes I miss the time you could use your legs, but often I don't. It was so dreary when we tried to do the sex thing before, but I do so miss the sex thing. That's how I like to refer to it sometimes, too. 'The sex thing'. How very queer.

CLIFFORD: I'm essentially a metonym for the failed, anachronistic upper classes, who are simultaneously ruining the rolling hills of the English countryside through rampant industrialisation whilst perishing in the wake of it all. How bolshevist.

CONNIE: I might have an affair or three.

CLIFFORD: That's very bolshevist of you.

SCENE: the same bleak house, only there are men in it and they are all doing manly things, like smoking and playing cards and saying disparaging things about women.

MAN 1: You know, I've quite forgotten my own name.

MAN 2: Is it because, like me, you're essentially a cardboard cut-out figure; more of a representation of intellectualism and its pretentiousness and inability to address anything of any importance, and therefore totally interchangeable with the other four of us here?

MAN 3: Are there only four of us? I thought there were five.

MAN 2: Christ knows. I've lost track.

MAN 4 / 5: I blame women, because I never learnt how to love, and this is the cause of my loneliness. The fact that I am an identikit prick has nothing to do with it whatsoever. It's all the fault of that other group: women!

CLIFFORD: Damn bunch of bolshevists, the lot of them.

CONNIE: I thought this was supposed to be a steamy, saucy narrative, full of quivering loins and naughty bits. Where is the sex thing? My womb is aching for it. I can't be dealing with all this nonsense - it's just a bunch of men talking about the class system, and I can't get off on that. I'm going to find a piece of rough.

MAN 3: Is it my turn to say something faintly racist now?

SCENE: the woods. They are described in painstaking detail, to the extent that you could basically write a botany textbook based on the purple prose.

MELLORS: I'm a piece of rough.

CONNIE: Golly, will you take me into your hut and have your wicked way with me whilst I cry and think about Clifford?

MELLORS: Ay, ah mun.

CONNIE: Are you talking in that illegible dialect so as to highlight the class differences between us? Because if so, it's an excellent rhetorical device, but doesn't translate too well to the written word. Also, my womb is ready for your seed, and other such phrases which imply that my womb is the arbiter of all things sex-related, and not the clitoris. Would you take me over that tree stump?

MELLORS: Tha'rt a female, s'ah mun. Git tha' dress aw!

CONNIE: I'm madly, passionately in love. I must go to Venice and leave Clifford immediately, or my womb shall simply break in two.

MELLORS: My wife left me, you know.

SCENE: Clifford's bedroom. It's probably covered in posters of miners, with slogans like 'NOT IN MINE NAME' and 'MINERS: NOT ON MY LAWN' and 'INDUSTRIALISATION SUPPRESSES THE MASSES AND THEREFORE IT'S GOOD FOR ME, BECAUSE I AM AN UPPER CLASS INDIVIDUAL'.

CONNIE: Clifford, I'm leaving you. Frankly, I've found the ideal man.

CLIFFORD: Good grief, he's not a bolshevist, is he?

CONNIE: Not at all. He's a raving misogynist, who left his wife because she took too long to orgasm when they had sex and she had the nerve to speak her mind too often. He categorises all women into 5 groups based on how they enjoy doing the sex thing, and he sometimes slips into the vernacular so as to remind me of my own class and the rocky foundations on which our courtship was built. He's ten years older than me and he's cruel to his daughter, and he's an obvious mouthpiece for the author, often monologuing for pages and pages in jarringly poetic language about how men are half dead slaves to the machine, or something. He's a total dreamboat. Plus, we do the sex thing loads.

CLIFFORD: It rather sounds like you don't have a lot in common beyond the whole sex thing.

CONNIE: Yes, but simultaneous orgasms, Clifford. The Italian Way. In freezing huts.

CLIFFORD: Sounds like a load of bolshevist rot to me.

SCENE: a farm. There are cows. 6 of them. Very female.

MELLORS: I hate being alone because I can't do the sex thing by myself, but I love being alone because not being able to do the sex thing means that I get to think about the sex thing a lot. I suppose I should ramble on about the class system a bit more and then end this whole novel with an anticlimax, because that could be a metaphor for the sex thing. Not when I do it, obviously. I'm great at the sex thing.