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A review by frazzle
The Rainbow by D.H. Lawrence
4.0
I have many thoughts about this book.
It has a lot of words in it. It luxuriates, sometimes languishes in words. I'd never heard the word 'lambent' before but now I wonder how I've ever got along without it. It's expansive and highly impressionistic. One could happily skip whole paragraphs without fear of missing any plot developments.
This book only really came alive for me with Ursula. Everything leading up to her was insignificant in comparison to her story, and I actually struggle (having just now finished it) to recall any of the details of the previous two generations. Certainly Lawrence felt the same. He dwells on her more than any other. I wonder if he was just writing a genealogy until he hit upon a character he liked. This book would have had more impact if it had started with Ursula.
But then I'm glad it didn't. Lawrence's genius is in building and easing tension through his characters over sustained periods, so that the reader almost comes to partake in the characters' emotions herself. The early generations of Brangwens warm up the reader, immersing him in the narrative's rhythm.
I experienced moments of frustration (at the uncommunicativeness of any number of lovers whose fierce quarrels would have been settled with a word), suspense (especially in the final two chapters), pathos and boredom (at various points). I was fully conscious of feeling these things as I was reading and criticised Lawrence accordingly. But looking back I think he has ever so subtly evoked emotions in his readers that his characters are currently feeling. I think this is pretty special.
Amidst and through the book's lyrical and often circuitous prose, Lawrence does a fantastic job of portraying the complexities of human beings, their emotions, yes, but also the parts of themselves they have no name for, and that they themselves are scarcely conscious of. He somehow evokes in words the ineffable. There's an awful lot of 'suddenly's and 'blind rage's, but again I don't think this betrays a naive style but a highly impressionistic one. In the interpersonal passages the complexities are of course multiplied and the description of these approaches sheer silliness. No wonder the scenes with more than two people involved are few and relatively clinically narrated. There'd just too much going on.
Interesting to see how industrialisation and 'the man's world' vs. the natural (overwhelmingly feminine) world is used as a theme, compared to in, say, Dickens or Joyce. As expected, simply beautiful descriptions of the beauty and marvel of nature, and also art/architecture to be fair. He also does nostalgia very well.
This took a great deal of effort to read but I'm super pleased I did. I look forward to returning to it in my twilight years, where I can hopefully (?) relate to more of this from personal experience.
It has a lot of words in it. It luxuriates, sometimes languishes in words. I'd never heard the word 'lambent' before but now I wonder how I've ever got along without it. It's expansive and highly impressionistic. One could happily skip whole paragraphs without fear of missing any plot developments.
This book only really came alive for me with Ursula. Everything leading up to her was insignificant in comparison to her story, and I actually struggle (having just now finished it) to recall any of the details of the previous two generations. Certainly Lawrence felt the same. He dwells on her more than any other. I wonder if he was just writing a genealogy until he hit upon a character he liked. This book would have had more impact if it had started with Ursula.
But then I'm glad it didn't. Lawrence's genius is in building and easing tension through his characters over sustained periods, so that the reader almost comes to partake in the characters' emotions herself. The early generations of Brangwens warm up the reader, immersing him in the narrative's rhythm.
I experienced moments of frustration (at the uncommunicativeness of any number of lovers whose fierce quarrels would have been settled with a word), suspense (especially in the final two chapters), pathos and boredom (at various points). I was fully conscious of feeling these things as I was reading and criticised Lawrence accordingly. But looking back I think he has ever so subtly evoked emotions in his readers that his characters are currently feeling. I think this is pretty special.
Amidst and through the book's lyrical and often circuitous prose, Lawrence does a fantastic job of portraying the complexities of human beings, their emotions, yes, but also the parts of themselves they have no name for, and that they themselves are scarcely conscious of. He somehow evokes in words the ineffable. There's an awful lot of 'suddenly's and 'blind rage's, but again I don't think this betrays a naive style but a highly impressionistic one. In the interpersonal passages the complexities are of course multiplied and the description of these approaches sheer silliness. No wonder the scenes with more than two people involved are few and relatively clinically narrated. There'd just too much going on.
Interesting to see how industrialisation and 'the man's world' vs. the natural (overwhelmingly feminine) world is used as a theme, compared to in, say, Dickens or Joyce. As expected, simply beautiful descriptions of the beauty and marvel of nature, and also art/architecture to be fair. He also does nostalgia very well.
This took a great deal of effort to read but I'm super pleased I did. I look forward to returning to it in my twilight years, where I can hopefully (?) relate to more of this from personal experience.