Chapter 5 From 1913 to 1914

In the spring I set off from Villa Igaia to Baden-Baden to meet my father.This is the last time we will see each other.Father is sick.Father said: "I can't understand the world anymore." Lawrence was climbing the Great St. Bernard Pass with friends at the time.We met in London two weeks later to see the kids and deal with the divorce.We live at Garnett's house.One morning, I met my child on his way to school.They were so happy, jumping and jumping around me, "Mom is back, when will you be home?" I said, "Mom is not coming home. Come to Mom and wait a little longer."

How distressed I am that I can't take my child with me.Now even that part of me whose natural way of life had penetrated deeply into the child was cut off.Another morning, I wanted to see them, but apparently the kids were forbidden to talk to me.Their little fair faces just stared at me as if I was the devil.I couldn't bear it, and even Lawrence, who didn't care, was angry. At that time, we both met Katherine Mansfield and Middleton Murray.They, I think, are the only other couples that have been united in such a natural and harmonious friendship as we have been.In Catherine's room in London, we had tea together.If my memory is correct, her room consisted only of cushions, couches, and fish tanks with goldfish, shells, and seaweed.

I think her looks are perfect.Brown hair, soft skin, and brown eyes that we later called "Filipino Soldier" eyes.She is a loyal friend.She has helped me so much with my children.She went to see them and brought my letter to them. I love her and treat her like my own sister. I met Catherine and Murray quite by chance.It was on the second floor of the bus, when they looked at each other in surprise and stuck out their tongues, and I was thinking, this is not fake. We also met Cynthia and Herbert Asquith at the market.Cynthia looked like a Venus painted by Botticelli.We also meet Eddie Marsh and the Duke of Walter Roy and Cynthia's relatives at her home.Her home is quite unusual, being entirely made of ship's timbers.Cynthia was always loyal to people, even when she had few friends during the war.

But Lawrence wanted to leave England.The divorce has not yet been finalized.Then we went back to Bavaria.There Lawrence wrote The Prussian Officer.I think the incredible conflict between the officer and his subordinates due to the two completely different personalities in the book has a particularly profound meaning to Lawrence.He wrote this book before the Great War, and he seems to have sensed something.The book tells the story of one unfortunate, conscious, and well-placed person envious of another's innocence and contentment.Lawrence himself is, I think, one of these two figures. The book shows the opening of his soul, the opening between the conscious and the unconscious.

One of our most basic jobs is to make a whole out of the different molecules that make us up.That's a fantastic story.The story made me fear the dark corners of Lawrence's soul and the soul of man.But his courage to face life's problems and horrors has always fascinated me.Often he fell ill just as he was trying to penetrate deeper into his consciousness.This is the interplay of body and soul.I've been torn between trying to figure out this recurring thing.He has high hopes for me.I have to do my best for him.Sometimes it was me who cornered him and provoked his inner struggle.It would be great if I wasn't with him.He doesn't want to be separated from me.I said to him, "You use me like a scientist dissecting a rabbit. I am your Versu-ches Kaninchen (experimental rabbit)."

We want to go to Italy again. The following winter we found a small villa called "Fi Aascherino" near Lerici.After a short break like gypsies seeking a newer southern Italy, we set out on a journey toward greater adventure. Large tracts of land with olives and vegetables are enclosed by a small lake.We bathed in the lake branch and paddled a canoe.Lawrence broke through the waves and headed for the sea in a small boat.I stood on the bank and watched him like a hen crowing with anger. "Even if you don't become a real poet, you'll probably drown like that poet." Shelley did not drown so far away.I live my days in peace.I sat in a hammock on a high cliff and watched the fishermen come and go in their boats with beautiful red sails.I watched the submarine from La Spezia rise and sink.We have a maid named Ellie.She loves us and takes care of us.Her mother, Felice, was also mostly with us.She used to call out to her daughters "Boccadimosca!" They loved us very passionately.For us, she haggled like hell at the market, buying bargains.Moreover, her sense of responsibility is very strong.One of Ellie's worries was Lawrence going out in old clothes.At such times, she would run after him with another coat and say, "Signar La-renzo, Signar Larenzo," and at the same time insist on putting it on him in a gesture that even I couldn't make.Once I took her to Spezia to buy Christmas things, and she acted like she was serving the queen of Italy, which was uncomfortable.No one has been kinder to "Lamia Signora" than her.

Once we visited the Waterfields in a lovely old city called Aura near Sarzana.We slept in a huge room.The bed seemed small in this large room.We joined the two beds to make it a larger point in this large space.The place is beautiful, rising high above Magra and surrounded by the wide river.The flowers on the city wall and the majestic sunrise made us deeply moved.Fiascherino's hut consisted of only three rooms and a kitchen, and I tried to make it as comfortable as possible.It doesn't really matter how I arrange it, since we spend most of the day outside the house.Eating outside, taking long walks, returning after dark, building a fire in the downstairs room.I believe that Lawrence and I were bonded mainly by the singularity of existence.Everything that happens in existence, no matter how big or small, attracts us.

However, we were hit financially.The publisher in New York sent us a remittance of £25 after getting samples of Lawrence's work.Since I had no money to spend, Lawrence said, "You spend the money." So I went to La Spezia's bank with the money order.Unexpectedly, the bank clerk said the money order was wrongly dated and had to be returned to New York.The gift was gone forever.For the next few years, Lawrence received no royalties from the United States.Such vile things often irritated Lawrence without knowing it.Such things should neither be thought about nor done, but why waste energy on such things?However I am annoyed that we were taken for fools.Later, we encountered similar things several times.Because of the dangers involved in his work, his financial footing was also precarious.That's why, I think, the reason he thinks I'm a good guy is precisely because I don't want him to show up in society, I don't want him to be rich.However, if the words came out of my mouth, they would not be so valuable.I like being poor.I didn't think about getting ahead in the world.

We know many Americans and Brits who own cottages around La Spezia Bay.They are approachable and amiable.I said to Lawrence, "I don't want to be a liar. I don't want to tell them we're not married. Because when they know the truth, they won't hang out with us." Miss Huntington, a charming Catholic, puzzled us.She said, "I like you both, so I'm going to criticize you. You're really wrong. Your life is sin." She was so confused, I kind of sympathized with her.As if she had been in the same situation before, and she had taken a different approach.Yet I accepted the outcome with joy and hope, and I thought I had chosen my own right path.I still don't understand what the real social value is, what the game of the whole society means.To me, society's standards are simply not real, and its games are not worth paying attention to.We had a great time in Fiascherino during the winter.There he wrote what was at first called The Sisters.Edward Garnett watched it and didn't like it.This annoyed Lawrence.Because Garnett didn't cater to him.But I said, "Didn't you break old standards and break new ground?" People said I spoiled his genius, which was not the case.

Lawrence is often busy.He taught me to sing many songs.We would sing for hours at dusk.He loves my loud voice.He sang very quietly, but like a true artist, he expressed the music and his soul in a wonderful way. We still paint together.From my point of view, he looks concentrated, while wielding the brush, he swipes the brush with quick movements on the drawing paper.I draw casually, like half playing and half painting.He doesn't understand me, he puts his whole heart and soul into everything he does. I was reminded of the time when the piano was brought from La Spezia.It was brought from the sea in a boat.There were also three Italians on board, and they were very worried about sinking to the bottom of the sea with their piano.The boat pitched up and down and looked extremely dangerous, and even we were terrified.At last they reached the stony shore.In the howling of the storm code-named "AvantiItaliani", the piano was carried into our cabin.

Christmas is here.We invited Ellie's relatives, about 12 farmers.They sang to us that night and were very friendly to us.Elliott's elderly mother, Felice, sang a duet with Pasquale Sr.Pretty Luigi is there too.The way she looks at picking olives is just so beautiful.Maestro, who is in love with Luigi, is also there. He is from Tellaro, but because of the high status of the woman, the man seems a bit unsuitable.I don't know if they got married or not.Sometimes tragedies often occur, that is, I was subdued by the disease.Although we have not violated the laws of God, we will be punished because we have violated the laws of the world.Lawrence and I got a lot, whereas many people deserved what they deserved for their lack of love and tenderness, and none of them even wanted it.Moreover, this is an eternal law in the world.Excessive happiness is not allowed in our world.Lawrence and I sometimes wonder, is that beyond the realm of human happiness?He—the young Lawrence I knew was very happy before the world war shattered his faith in human culture. I asked him, "What is civilization? What is this world that humans have created that I don't understand?" He said, "It's like a tree that comes out of man. It's destined to grow, blossom, and die." I've often thought that Lawrence was the last new branch to grow on the tree of British culture.Whether British culture is dead or alive, (I hope I'm not dead) Lawrence is the last new branch of that long-growth tree that soars into the sky. He is always an absolute, undeniable human being.He often said firmly, "In the end people can't deny me, even if people want to do that, they don't start with me." I think so too. Life is a mechanical cacophony.In the sound of the motor, in the various sounds, the meaning is gradually lost, and all meanings are drowned.No one has enough courage to listen to what gives us true life.Our survival tentacles shrank. I am not trying to astonish Lawrence's genius.Whenever I think about how he was envied, repressed, abandoned, and often treated with hypocrisy, I feel painfully the stupidity of modern civilization.How necessary he is!How misunderstood his necessity.Now he is gone, and his great love for his fellow man is no longer in his body.People poured out their sentimentality on him...in fact, so did the critics!How rich would have been the lives of the critics themselves if, instead of criticizing him, they had accepted him! We spent some exciting mornings in our little territory, jumping for joy into the Mediterranean sun.I also often walk through the olive groves to post letters to Tellaro.Being a northerner, I couldn't understand at first the beauty of olive trees that change so much with the passage of time.When the wind blows harder, they turn silvery; sometimes they look tired, quiet, and dull.During our morning walk, the sun cast soft, waving shadows on the stony, mossy path.On the right is the sea.I wouldn't be surprised if I came across Christ and His disciples -- it's common not to be surprised. Lawrence amply taught people how to live—how to be happy just for the sake of life itself.He was sickly and always felt the approach of death more than others.How did he religiously watch the beauty of that moment?He looked at everything, big and small.I lived with Lawrence before my real life began.The days before were gray tired days of running around and worrying about work.With him, the content of love and joy is but a small part of the whole life.Our lives are often complete.The two of us are in balance.We are surrounded by a universe that we can make the most of. In 18 years, we got a lot out of it. Not that Lawrence made good use of his short life.But he has a deep sense of the realities of life.He knows what gives living things the fire of life.It's not a limousine, it's not a luxury hotel, it's not a movie.He is neither high nor low.He has real genius, he takes eternal value out of the core of life and publishes it at the time of creation.I was amazed how well the kids understood him.But far more people misunderstood him. It occurred to me that when a person is inside a fence, he only sees the fence and thinks that's all it takes.But once you get out of that fence and realize how vast the world is, you realize that a fence is just a fence.People looked at those in amazement.In fact, all insurmountable barriers can be overcome.However, for those who are at ease within the fence, there is no problem of the fence, nor is there a problem of a bigger world. He was well aware that he was hostile, but I don't think either of us understood the magnitude of it at the time.As he grew up, so did his opposites.We were so tired of life that we couldn't care less about those things.Our own world is so small and poor compared with the rest of the world outside, but it is an impregnable fortress. Another thing I understand is that he's not "Almighty God", like Goethe's "I am Forever" or something.He knows, "I am D. H. Lawrence through and through. From there and from there, my soul is in me. The rest is not me. I can relate to everything but me. And the more I It's more fulfilling for me to actually feel another consciousness of other people around me." I am amused to think of the words of an American doctor who claims he is "watching literature."He said there was nothing but morbid eroticism in Lawrence's mind.I see all the things he wants to see are diseases.For example, Ursula and Burchin had beetroot, ham, and venison pastry for dinner, and he had an aversion to beetroot, ham, and venison pastry.I think the resentment resides in the heart of the good old doctor.For what repulsion can one feel from beetroot, ham, and venison pastry?Isn't it just delicious?Lawrence is so forthright, so strict.He hated anything "haut-gotut" or obscene.Hate fancy lingerie and everything else that provokes people.To him, fancy lingerie or anything provocative is silly.Everything is a deception, but why should there be a deception?Enthusiastic people don't need to play tricks. In the spring of 1914 Lawrence and I traveled from Fiascherino to London.We stayed at the house of our friend Gordon Camille.His wife went to Ireland and left him to look after the house.His home is in Kensington.We often saw the Murrays and had long chats with them.Catherine looked young, but she was old, like a precocious child.At that time, it was almost impossible to imagine that she had any worries.Her relationship with Murray is also fresh and dynamic.We had a housekeeper, and she used to sing "Bright Angels, Undefiled Angels." Camille loves Ireland so much he calls it "Alan". I think about that boring Sunday afternoon we went out together.We arrived in Richmond in a small boat on the Thames.Camille, Murray, Catherine, Lawrence and I were there.Some people were in a bad mood on board, and the cause of their displeasure was "Guide Us, Kind Light" on the harmonica.The boredom of travel made us gradually silent.In the distance, coins were dropped from boats into the terrifying centuries-old Thames for children to salvage.The silt of the Thames seems to seep into our souls.Soon, we couldn't bear it anymore, so we abandoned the boat and took the bus home.The serious Camille stepped on the toe of the conductor's shoe on the second floor of the bus, and the conductor shouted, "Be careful, beast".This made me and Catherine very happy. Lawrence and I were finally married at the Kensington registry office.Camille and Murray were with us.On the way, Laurence jumped out of the carriage and went to the goldsmith's to buy a new wedding ring.I gave Catherine the old ring, which she has worn until now buried at Fontainebleau. The ceremony is very simple and unpretentious.I don't take marriage seriously, it doesn't matter whether I'm married or not, it's all the same.Laurence, however, was delighted that we were officially married. Since I already knew more or less what Lawrence had written when I first arrived in London, I thought, "It will be nice to meet interesting people." But when we were invited to a luncheon, we felt insult.The ladies there want to be proud that they are socializing with celebrities.People ate and drank there, and the hostess sat next to some famous person who had been in the newspapers as usual. Only when they are messing around will they be quietly blasted away.That's all.So Lawrence and I hardly went anywhere, and neither of us noticed that it would be fun to be with us.Maybe those people themselves are no longer interesting.So Lawrence and I were pretty much alone. A friend once asked me, "Isn't that difficult? Isn't it difficult for you and Lawrence, who come from different backgrounds, to make a real marriage contract? Haven't you been angry when you are sensitive?" I wonder if Lawrence has a genius?Still, he is a great character, and he understands me more nuanced and sensitive than I imagined. Once, I banged my head against the blinds and got dizzy.Lawrence was sympathetic to me, concerned, reassuring.I am amazed.In the past when I met, got hurt or something, no one thought about me, so I didn't understand people's hearts.It is a miracle to me that I feel that gentleness.