Lawrence's first novel 'The White Peacock', published in 1911, exhibits all the charms and faults you would expect of a first novel. It was six years in the writing, undergoing three re-writes, yet despite its long gestation it would have benefitted from some prudent editing and re-structuring of the narrative. The novel is set in an undefined time that is recognisable as late Victorian England, a world of distinct classes where the heart of the industrial revolution was still beating. It tells a slight story that follows a group of young friends over several decades, and it moves along at the pace of the changing seasons, as the friends come together and drift apart. There are three Parts to the novel: the first two Parts are mostly contained within the confines of the Nethermere valley of Nottinghamshire, while the third Part consists of a number of disconnected vignettes of life after the main characters have moved away.The story's narrator, Cyril Beardsall, lives in Woodside cottage with his mother and his sister Lettie. The essence of the story is the relationship of the inhabitants of Woodside to those of two neighbouring properties: the tenant farmers of Strelley Mill and the mine-owners of Highclose. Cyril is a close friend of a young farmer, George Saxton, and his sister Emily, who live at Strelley Mill with their parents and siblings. And then there are the Tempests of Highclose, where young Leslie Tempest is a suitor to Lettie Beardsall.There are clear autobiographic elements to the novel. Beardsall was the maiden name of Lawrence's mother, and the nearby town of Eberwich stands in for Lawrence's home town of Eastwood. The death of Cyril's father, Frank Beardsall, early in the story can be seen as Lawrence's act of disowning his father. Some of the elements of the story appear irrelevant to the central drama playing out between its five main protagonists: Cyril and Emily, Lettie and Leslie, and George. Characters are introduced, gain our interest and curiosity, only to fade into the background, to be left behind as figures of the past as our protagonists depart from Nethermere into exile, and the place they have known so long becomes a strange distant memory: "Nethermere was no longer a complete, wonderful little world that held us charmed inhabitants. It was a small, insignificant valley lost in the spaces of the earth."There are other weaknesses. It seems as though Lawrence wants to withhold important information from the reader, to feed it through a bit at a time during the course of the novel. Often key information is never revealed. We do not know what Cyril does for a living, apart from some casual farm work during his "vacation" and the occasional paintings that he does. For a long time we are left guessing about the inhabitants of Highclose, and it is only at the beginning of Part 2 that we learn that the Tempests are mine-owners. Elsewhere family characters appear suddenly, (e.g. the child David in Pt 1 Chapter 8) only to have no relevance to the story. There are some clumsy shifts between scenes in places, and bits of exposition are dropped into the story when deemed necessary to explain something or other. Important plot developments are despatched in a few cursory lines, while long paragraphs are spent describing in florid prose poems the seasonal changes to the local flora. The novel's fragmented narrative does, however, serve to reflect the fractured relationships between its main characters.This is a writer still learning his art. Lawrence is at his best in 'The White Peacock' when creating dramatic episodes within the story (e.g. the hunt for the sheep-killing dog, and its aftermath, in Pt 1 - Chapter 6). These passages are almost self-contained stories, hinting at Lawrence's latent talent as one of English literature's greatest short-story writers. 'The White Peacock' is a light read compared to Lawrence's more celebrated and accomplished novels, but one that I could enjoy for the pure pleasure of his descriptive writing alone. Lawrence's writing style is painterly as he builds up a sense of the rural Northern landscape through poetic description and imagery. The novel was inspired by a painting - 'An Idyll' by Maurice Griffinhagen - to which Lawrence refers directly in Part 1 - Chapter 3 in a scene in which Lettie is showing George a book of pictures (and again, briefly, in Part 1 - Chapter 5 when Lettie meets George scything the oats). It brings us a world described in all its colours, as Lawrence creates images of colour and shape through words ("The yellow corn was dipping and flowing in the fields, like a cloth of gold pegged down at the corners under which the wind was heaving. Sometimes we passed cottages where the scarlet lilies rose like bonfires, and the tall larkspur like bright blue leaping smoke"). The novel is full of the purple prose and poetic descriptions of landscape and place that are so characteristic of Lawrence's writings - I particularly liked the remarkable prose poem on the vibrancy of the natural world that follows the funeral of the gamekeeper Annable ("The day had already forgotten") - and only occasionally does Lawrence indulge in the intellectual and aesthetic debate that was to clog some of his later, greater novels. Lawrence gives free rein to some of his most beautiful descriptive writing here, as though he was striving to pack all his creativity into this one work, and there are numerous examples of passages that are almost blank-verse poems within the story. Pt 2 Chapter 8 is titled 'A Poem of Friendship' and is a diversion from the main story, a self-contained prose poem to male friendship, the beauty of work and play, and the passage of time through a day and through the seasons.Lawrence describes in detail the women's fashions, the decor of the homes at that time, and in today's reader this evokes a world of late Victorian or Edwardian style and period. It may seem to today's reader that this is a period piece, but for the author this was his contemporary world and what he was writing about was not historical fiction or nostalgia, but the concerns and issues of his day. Lawrence was creating a picture of a section of English society prior to the cataclysm of World War 1.It is not all grim up North. The nearby mining town of Selsby remains for much of the story a faint glow in the night sky, a presence on the far horizon, a dark shadow in the corner of the protagonists' lives. Lawrence offers detailed descriptions of the natural landscape, which is seen as a constant source of life and renewal, although it can also appear cruel and unfeeling. The characters sometimes display a callous disregard for natural life, and there are many references to death in the story. This brutality is often exemplified in the male characters - e.g. the rabbit hunt, after which we get the following dialogue: "Men are all brutes", said Lettie hotly ... "You can tame us", said Leslie, in mighty good humour (Chapter 5).The novel is full of contrasts. The rural landscapes and unspoilt countryside (the Nethermere valley, safe and hidden away) oppose the encroaching mines and mining villages ("the ugly village standing blank and naked on the brow of the hill"). An enlightened generation of educated, intellectual men of the higher classes rules over the labouring, physical workers of the farms and pits. This allows Lawrence to explore his recurrent themes of the dichotomy between intellect and physicality, between intelligence and the senses, between thought and emotion. The delicacy and refinement of the Tempests and Beardsalls is contrasted with the roughness and coarseness of the Saxtons; and later, in political terms, between Leslie's Conservatism and George' Socialism. For Lawrence, both points of view stem from restrictions and limitation, from a failure to embrace the breadth of life - a narrowing of the eyes till they see one thing only.Lawrence often uses symbolism to add portent to the narrative, for example the storm and the solitary raven in Part 1 - Chapter 7, when Leslie and Lettie agree to marry. The weather and seasons often match and reflect the mood of the drama. The title of the novel is itself symbolic. A peacock appears in the disused churchyard in Part 2 - Chapter 2, "the very soul of a lady ... all vanity and screech and defilement" according to Annable, and the titular white peacock refers to the gamekeeper's deceased wife, a Lady who "would choose to view me in an aesthetic light. I was Greek statues for her ...". For Lawrence, it stands for women who view men objectively, stifling their spirit and soul.Modern analysts of Lawrence may talk of his misogyny and anti-feminism but invariably this is the inappropriate application of 21st century attitudes to his time. Within his own period, Lawrence was a radical and often controversial thinker whose views would often clash with those of later eras. They were his intellectual reaction to seismic shifts in the social order in England in the early years of the 20th century: a country grappling with the legacy of vast industrialisation, the burgeoning movements for organised labour and social justice, for women's suffrage, and a declining aristocracy and old order.Lawrence's views on the sexes could be scornful of both men and women, although he saw convention and the social restrictions of the times as the main obstacles to true unity between the sexes. Invariably his men do not match the expectations of women, who tend to look outward, catching the new spirit of women's emancipation. The men are often trapped in social convention, like George - a victim of his parochialism, his timidity in the face of change: "He was afraid of the town. He was afraid to venture into the foreign places of life, and all was foreign save the valley of Nethermere". For the characters in 'The White Peacock', personal development is crushed by unsuitable marriages, which is society's way of containing the individual's spirit and potential. For the men, brief moments of male bonding, almost homoerotic in description, offer the only respite.Lawrence described how gender and class differences made relationships and mutual understanding difficult. There are many conversations where one party fails to understand the other, or is unable to get across what it is they really want to say. Lawrence strives to capture the natural style of conversation, with its unfinished sentences, broken phrases and half-uttered statements. He also tries to replicate the local dialects, accents and idioms of the uneducated, common people, as distinct from the more well-spoken protagonists of this tale.Lawrence uses the novel to indulges the breadth of his own artistic tastes, filling it with erudite references to a wide range of the arts, both classical and contemporary. His characters are conversant with the fine arts and literature and bring these into the most casual of conversations. Cryptic references to the arts abound throughout the novel, as in Pt 1 Chapter 8 when Lawrence references Maeterlinck and his 1893 Symbolist play 'Pelleas and Melisande' and the central character Golaud (or is it Debussy's opera, based on the play, that is the source of Lawrence's reference here?). This is quickly followed in Chapter 9 with references to Millais, Maxim Gorky, and Thomas Hardy, before moving onto mythology. Later we get a reference to Aubrey Beardsley's sketches for 'Salome' (and their effect on George), a random quote from Walt Whitman here, a casual mention of Samuel Butler's 'Erewhon' there. The result is a mixed pudding, somewhat rich in parts, unfulfilling in others. I doubt if 'The White Peacock' will convert many new readers to Lawrence's writing, but for those already convinced of his immense talent and appreciative of his beautiful style, it will offer sufficient rewards.*****NB: errors in typography in producing a Kindle version (as part of complete works of D H Lawrence) confused me on occasions, especially when they did not make it clear who was speaking in some of the dialogue exchanges.
Lawrence's first novel and clearly a biographical snapshot of his young manhood is flawed and unfulfilling, but shows the sketched outline of the genius to come. "The White Peacock" is full of landscapes that change with the seasons and the moods of its characters. While the natural world gets described in thrillingly glorious detail, his treatment of animals is strangely callous and gruesome. I can't recall another book with such a high animal death toll. The book's main weakness is its central narrative voice, the ineffectual Cyril, or Lawrence himself. Aside from moving the plot along and providing necessary description and exposition, Cyril has very little to do, even when it concerns his own romance. Otherwise, Cyril's only real contribution is being a foil for the surly gamekeeper Annable, a progenitor of Mellors, in a chapter that would almost stand alone as a short story considering its lack of relation to the rest of the book. Similarly, Cyril and Lettie's mother disappears without a trace when she becomes irrelevant towards the end, an unfortunate choice since she is a welcome figure in the early chapters.
What do You think about The White Peacock (1995)?
Hated some of the characters in this book. I love the way DH doesn't follow the rules... you think something is going some where but then off it goes somewhere else. This one doesn't even have the crazy goodbyes of other books with there climaxation that I thought all books needed... but apparently not, he just kinda says see ya later and I don't feel like I needed more. I did have to adjust the way I read in order to enjoy it though. I normally like to run through a book getting sucked in to all the exciting bits. You have to slow down and savor this book just like his 'The Trespasser' otherwise it has nothing for you.
—Jessie
This is an early effort, with flashes of his later magic, but not quite there. A very personal, touching story, but for some reason, he puts himself into it. It's not about him, he's mostly an observer, but a battle plays out in the novel - he's starting to form his writer-voice as a narrator that gets inside the emotional life of each character, and this is struggling against the fact that as the brother of the main character, there are intimate moments in his sister's life that he really should not be present for or have awareness of. Sometimes Lawrence realizes this and the scene becomes awkward; sometimes he does not, and the writing becomes disjointed. Still, very much worth a read.
—Jonathan
I see that Lawrence reworked this novel 3 times. If only one of those times he had realised that the first person narration didn't work - at times it feels that the narrator is just a voyeur, and too often I found myself thinking, well how does he know that? And why, in his revisions, didn't he write an ending?That said, it has to be given 4 stars for the quality of the writing and the depth of characterisation. His detaile dobservation is a wonder: here is Meg, obsessed with her baby to the exclusion of her husband: "Before carrying him to bed, Meg took him to feed him. His mouth was stretched round the nipple as he sucked, his face was pressed closer and closer to the breast, his fingers wandered over the fine white globe, blue veined and heavy, trying to hold it. Meg looked down upon him with a consuming passion of tenderness."He has some very sharp observations on women: resents Emily's ecstasy over the babies, and this comment on Lettie trying to please her husband is a real ouch moment:"This peculiar abnegation of self is the resource of a woman for the escaping of the responsibilities of her own development."And also, we find in this book the prose version of that wonderful poem 'Piano' - remember the line about pressing the small poised feet, of a mother who smiles as she sings? Well, here is Lettie playing and singing, while"Lucy, the little mouse [her 6 year old daughter] sat on her mother's skirts, pressing Lettie's silk slippers in turn upon the pedals."There is a wonderful book in here struggling to get out. If you can overlook the flaws arising from the inappropriate use of first person, then it is well worth reading. Oh, and you mustn't object too much to dead animals, either.
—Lucy
