Women in Love

Product Description <br/>Written in 1916, Women in Love brings to life the intimate attractions of a circle of friends and lovers and was described in an early review as an "analytical study of sexual depravity." Exploring the very nature of physical and emotional love, Lawrence masterfully intertwines the lives of the novel's principal characters, Ursula and Gudrun Brangwen (who were first introduced in Lawrence's The Rainbow) and their respective lovers, Rupert Birkin and Gerald Crich. Perhaps owing its sources to real-life attachments that Lawrence and his wife, Frieda, shared with John Middleton Murry and his wife, Katherine Mansfield, the novel creates a startling, almost incantational mix of ideas, emotions, and symbolism. When Lawrence was unable to find a publisher for this, his favorite novel, it was privately printed in New York in 1920 and appeared in England a year later.<br/> About the Author <br/>D. H. (David Herbert) Lawrence was born in 1885 in Nottingham, England, where much of his fiction is set. His father was a miner but his mother, with whom Lawrence shared a strong bond, was determined that he should have a better life. He attended college and obtained a teaching certificate but ill health prevented him from teaching on a regular basis. His first published works were poems, but he is also remembered for his short stories, his travel writings, and his novels, the first of which, The White Peacock, was published in 1911. Because numerous obscenity charges were brought against Lawrence in England and also because he and his German-born wife, Frieda, were accused of acting as German spies during WWI, the Lawrences left England for good in 1919. Lawrence's major novels include Sons and Lovers (1913), The Rainbow (1915), Women in Love (1920), Aaron's Rod (1922), The Plumed Serpent (1926), and Lady Chatterley's Lover (1928). In 1928, while in Mexico, Lawrence was diagnosed with tuberculosis; he died in Vence, France, on March 2, 1930.<br/> Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. <br/>She disengaged herself, softly, and rose up a little to look at him. There was a faint light, it seemed to her, in the room. She could just distinguish his features, as he slept the perfect sleep. In this darkness, she seemed to see him so distinctly. But he was far off, in another world. Ah, she could shriek with torment, he was so far off, and perfected, in another world. She seemed to look at him as at a pebble far away under clear dark water. And here was she, left with all the anguish of consciousness, whilst he was sunk deep into the other element of mindless, remote, living shadow-gleam. He was beautiful, far-off, and perfected. They would never be together. Ah, this awful, inhuman distance which would always be interposed between her and the other being!