The Rainbow - D.H. Lawrence

General info: Novel, published in 1915 (and banned in an obscenity trial later that year)

Storytelling: 6 - This is my first foray into D.H. Lawrence, and I’ve come out of this book feeling a bit bewildered. I decided to start here because it’s one of his first works and is also the prequel to Women in Love. Being a fairly organized individual, I like to keep things chronological when I can, and I assumed I’d read more by him.
Diving in, I was a bit put off in the first few pages by the fact that Lawrence isn’t much a fan of plot. In fact, he throws plot almost completely out the window, and 75% of this novel is his in-depth analysis of the passionate and disparate emotions of his three main characters: Tom Brangwen, his step-daughter Anna Brangwen, and her eldest daughter Ursula Brangwen. The very British Brangwen family has lived in Nottinghamshire for as long as anyone can remember, and Lawrence spends 400 pages spanning four decades through the eyes of these three characters. The story is loosely laced in, and there are even a few exciting moments, but it’s apparent that weaving a tale isn’t necessarily why Lawrence is hailed as a genius. Sure, I love me a good saga, but as someone who admittedly adores epics above all else, I found myself getting a little bored. This was not a book that I sailed through with ease, and after nineteen paragraphs about Ursula’s conflicted feelings regarding her to-be-or-not-to-be fiancé, I felt myself wanting to scream “GET ON WITH IT!” and fling the book across the street. (He ends up a not-to-be fiancé, which I’m guessing is what paves the way for Women in Love)
However, being a benevolent book reviewer, I will acknowledge the fact that there are some people who love this, and Lawrence most likely wouldn’t be a household name if he were a novelist who completely couldn’t tell a story. I will also acknowledge the fact that Lawrence was a lot more radical and blasphemous (and perhaps, compelling?) to the turn-of-the-century British reader than he is to this jaded 21st century girl. I didn’t bat an eyelash at the thought of Ursula having premarital sex, but I can understand that turn-of-the-century London would have been screaming bloody murder. So, although I was disappointed by the lack of a spicy plotline, I will only place a little bit of the blame on Lawrence. I’m reading this book a century too late, and I’m also unabashedly biased toward more fantastical works.

Writing: 9 – Ok THIS is why D.H. Lawrence is a household name; the man makes love to the English language. He can wax poetic for pages about a passionate exchange or a lingering moment without ever coming up for air. He crafts sentences with such care and delicacy that I can understand why he simply had to write like this, even if it was so controversial at the time. This material was coming out of him in buckets. (This is perhaps why, since I am so unaccustomed, I left this book feeling a bit sideways) While I was well aware that Lawrence is a highly sexualized writer, I was surprised by how sensual his writing was and his mastery of the complicated blend of love and hate.
Lawrence’s sensuality was pervasive to a surprising degree. Whether he was talking about farming, family dynamics, the weather, the waves at the beach, etc. Lawrence was crafting his words with a tenderness that I appreciated. I personally thought sex played into it very little, and sensuality took the lead, which was something I have never experienced before as a reader.
Additionally, while he was doing all of this, I was also alarmed at how well he identifies the conflicting and painful emotions that people can feel when they are deeply in lust or love. Lawrence loves to strip his characters down until they are completely emotionally naked, and then he dives in for a few pages to examine all the nuances. He especially loves to examine that ever-so fine line that exists between love and hate, which I think we all can understand. When someone becomes so critical to your life, and they disappoint you or anger you in some horrendous way, I believe we all can identify with the depth of emotion that you can sink to in your most trying moments. Reading a billion pages about this felt uncomfortable at points (I can’t imagine having been someone who knew him…or was loved by him...) but he did so with respect and with precision. The words would roll along languidly, spilling into each other, and although there were a few times where I didn’t know what the hell was going on, I attribute this to the dreamlike state the Lawrence puts you in. His writing is like a deep-tissue massage that you’re a little terrified of. It was a wholly new experience and one that I ultimately enjoyed a great deal.

Characters: 6 – It was apparent to me from the get-go that Lawrence’s characters were everything to him, and that their development was ultimately his hardest work. For the most part, I appreciated this and congratulate him for his efforts, but I think he went a little bit overboard in a few ways.
Although I met a variety of characters in this book, his three main players are obviously who he examines most closely. I also think he fell in love with Ursula’s character so much that he had to go and write an entirely different book about her. What I found odd was that Tom, Anna, and Ursula are all strikingly similar in their reactions to love and relationships, but their personalities are all completely different. Tom is a fairly even-keel farmer, contented to live on his Marsh. Anna is a strong-willed and sharp-tongued figure who grows to be a lazy housewife with nine children. Ursula is your typical independent and idealistic eldest child who runs off to college and never wants to get married. How would it be possible that those three individuals would approach a relationship the same way? This was weird to me and highly implausible. I get that family members will act similarly in certain situations, but I found myself thinking that I was ready for a new reaction and some different material by the time we had reached Ursula’s generation.
Regarding their reactions, although the Brangwens are supposed to be your everyday upper middleclass family, they are awfully dramatic and inhumanly mercurial. As I said above, I loved how Lawrence touched on the love/hate line, but his main characters spent a little too much time in the hate category. I’ve never met so many fictional characters who despise and fear their loved ones so vehemently. Then, five pages later, they’re desperately in love again and all the birds are out chirping. I get that lovers argue and don’t understand each other, but that seems to be all that is ever going on in Lawrence’s World of Crazy Love. Perhaps this is how it was a hundred years ago in the UK. Yikes.
As a short note, I will however mention that I adored the way that Lawrence examined Christianity in this books. His characters struggle with it immensely, all in unique ways. For example, Anna harps against the church for basically her whole life, while Ursula falls deeply in love with it as a child and then strays from it as she grows. I’ll admit I didn’t examine it as closely as I probably should have, but I liked that Lawrence also left their religious beliefs a little murky. I think this gave it some authenticity.

Best part: Ursula is loosely engaged to be married to Anton Skrebensky. She has a ring, they frequently visit hotels in London together, they say I love you, etc. etc. However, Ursula won’t really admit to herself or to Anton that she never really sees herself getting married. She goes along with it, perhaps because she likes the attention and his company. Either way, she is a saucy minx who ends up completely breaking his heart by running out on him at the last minute, weeks before he is to ship off to India with the British military. By the time Ursula realizes she’s pregnant with Skrebensky’s child and writes him that she does indeed want to get married, he’s been wed to someone else. Way to make decisions, Ursula.

Recommend to: People who appreciate turn-of-the-century British lit and are a little kooky.

Reminded me of: Only due to their treatment of sexual tension and the complex emotions that love evokes, I have to say Gabriel Garcia Marquez, although the two authors are so very different.

How I would murder the main character: Because she cruelly lead Skrebenksy on, I would sever some of Ursula’s main arteries with broken biology lab equipment and then leave her locked in a room with her eight younger siblings.

Sexy parts: Ursula and Skrebensky seem to have a lot of sex in public. Although Lawrence doesn’t come outright and go into detail (for which he would have likely been put to death and not just sued) you can tell that if they’re spending time under a shady tree on the riverbank, something promiscuous is going on. Also, Ursula has a brief lesbian relationship with her school mistress, Winifred. (I realize at this point you may be doubting my claim that I found this book a little boring, but I'm ok with that)

To sum it up: A rollercoaster of sensual and in-depth emotional discovery.

Overall: 7