Part one complete in Sons and Lovers. Illness, the empowering penumbra arranging patterns of light and dark in nearby peripheries. Fascinatingly, these instances of illness are more powerful in literal terms than metaphorical. Lawrence is able to sidestep the archaic and estranged use of metaphors, akin to most of his contemporaries. Social issues are confronted much more directly. He saves the power of the metaphor and evokes it through natural imagery, mostly. Enough with the stuff-headed mind warp. When all is said and done, Lawrence is versatile, regardless of how one approaches or interprets him.
In other news: more lamenting about my stolen bicycle, or rather, the bicycle borrowed from the stepfather; various levels of recovery from the Millville episodes; a long and disgustingly analytic walk through Colt State Park; cooling off with a Del’s Lemonade and wishing more real lemon chunks had been present, as there were none; going to Roger Williams to see Rabia, a smiling face cropping up during tides of recreation-inspired cynicism; driving for the first time through Little Compton and Tiverton, getting lost and worrying about gas constantly, though with an open mind; discussing the backdrop for most of Cloud Cult’s super-familial themes while listening to their very short new album; sucking down a pair of specialty frappes at Swansea’s very own Eskimo King, with discussions of Inuit ironies in American ice cream culture, all while swinging dangerously high in an ultimately unromantic fashion on the on-site wooden love seat; listening to Indian and Egyptian music on the way back to Bristol; doing some garden work and seeing a small spider and companion centipede dancing along the weeds; coming to more sorrowful conclusions about the future upon certain inspections of the lacking technological material wealth in my bedroom.
Otherwise, a protected and well-balanced close to Memorial Day weekend, 2008.
gbem1
