At the Mad Dog on Valentine's Day. Picture by Auta.
Lady Chatterley's Lover is a beautiful read. I am eating out of the palm of its hand, absolutely powerless to stop mid-chapter. Yet at the end of a day's reading I feel momentarily full, satisfied, enriched. D.H. Lawrence seems to inhabit all his characters at once; we see each of them through the eyes of all the others one by one.
The protagonist Connie and the gamekeeper of the Chatterley grounds are particularly sympathetic characters. I feel nervous when they are tense, thrilled (mostly) when they make love, blithe when they enjoy one another's company simply. Oy, it's been too long since a book took me the way this one does. Some passages are so great that I make noises out loud that the neighbors probably smirk at. Still I can't stifle the sounds.
I hope you out there are well, too, Reader. Are you?
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