“Instead of chopping yourself down to fit the world, chop the world down to fit yourself.”
D. H. Lawrence
Anyway. Women in Love. I always think it sounds a bit like a Jacqueline Wilson novel, doesn’t it? Or is that just me being silly?
Actually, it’s a novel about, well, two women in love. Or not in love. Or half in love. They don’t seem to be able to make their minds up. And that is the basic plot, them deciding whether to marry the men they’ve fallen in love (or not) with, and the men deciding likewise. But then, if you’re reading this you’re probably not reading for the plot. (Unless you really have picked it up thinking it’s a Jacqueline Wilson novel.)
It’s very…modernist. It does that annoying modernist thing where the author repeats a phrase he’s already used in the previous sentence, which I always think incredibly ugly, although I suspect the opinion of academia would be against me in that respect:
But he was far off, in another world. Ah, she could shriek with torment, he was so far off, and perfected, in another world.
And there are these constant meditations and inner turmoils and abstract character analyses and philosophical discourses that are mildly interesting for about the first half of the book and then get very tiresome because they’re generally about how awful and terrible the world is.
It was sort of a weird reading experience for me as well because my edition (not the one pictured, another cool hardback university-library edition) used a font I’ve only ever seen in one other place, which was The Lord of the Rings. You can see why that might be interesting. Normally this would be the point at which I go into the aesthetics of reading, but I don’t have the time today so that happy event will be saved for another day.
Women in Love is certainly an interesting read, but I don’t think I would have read it for entertainment’s sake. But at least I will have lots to say in my essay…I hope.