The New York herald., 1922-04-23

even an artist. though, as in
this case, he is capable OF being tire
some. prolix, even maundering in
his narrative. He has flashes of
genuine insight, though his philoso-
ply as an entirety is shoddy; woven
of a cloth that won't wear. An in
quiring finger easily pokes holes in
it. though looked at from a suffi-
cient distance. casually, it has lus-
trous appearance. He is also un-
fortunate in the overload noises
made by his cldQue-from which he
must accept some responsibility,
since the most absurd portions of
the comment are repeated here from
an earlier use In pushing his pre-
vious books. To be told that he is
"the greatest writer living" is merely
amusing. but it becomes annoying
when we are warned that ''for the
contemporaries of Lawrence to re-
main ignorant of his writings is like
having lived in the age of Shakes
peare and having remained igno-
rant of his plays" 1t recalls the
familiar Caledonian trumpeting,
"Whaur's your wully Shakespeare
the noo?" The objection is justified
because Mr.. Lawrence is big enough
to stop such noises if he did not like
them.
This particular story-or disquisi-
tion, for it can hardly be called
story-is advanced as a final analy-
sis of the love life of modern men
and women" Its central idea is the
deep rooted antagonism of the sexes.
Like most of Mr.. Lawrence's adven-
lures into psychology, the thesis is
based upon partial truth, a frag-
mentary bit taken out of it's setting,
out of its place as a part of the
whole of life and treated as if il
were the whole thing in itself. The
theme is pretty well stated in
Aaron's meditation after he has
abandoned his wife and three chill
dren.
He felt the curious and deadly
opposition of his wife's will against
his own nature, the almost nauseat-
ing ache which it amounted to.
Her will, her will, her terrible implaca-
BILE, cunning will What was there in
the female will so diabolical, he asked
himself, that ticould press like fiat
sheet Of iron against a man all the
time? The female will He realized
now that he had horror of it. 1t
was fiat and infiexible as a sheet of
iron. But also it was cunning as
snake that could sing treacherous
songs. OF two people at a deadlock,
he always reminded himself, there
is not one only wholly at fault. Both
must be at fault. =. Take Lottie.
He had loved her. He had never
loved any other woman. If he had
had his other affairs-it was out of
spite or defiance or curiosity. They
meant nothing. He and Lottie had
loved one another. And the love had
developed almost at once into a kind
Of combat. . First and single he
felt, and bore himself as such. 1t
had taken him years to realize that
Lottie also felt herself first and sin
gle -. that she, as woman, was
the center of creation, the man was
but an adjunct"
So he ran away to be a center"
all by himself. He had been a check
weighman" at a colliery, but he also
played the flute. He played well
enough to get a job in a London or
chestra, even at the opera. He de-
velops from a homespun workman
into philosophic philanderer, falls
in with large menagerie of equally
eccentric folk and has a series of not
very remarkable erotic adventures
in London and in Italy, to no very
definite end. 1t is chiefly a device
for the elaboration of variations upon