St. Mawr & the Man Who Died

Not truly novels, St. Mawr and The Man Who Died seem to be experimental works in which D. H. Lawrence continues to explore the themes found throughout his longer fiction--the emasculation and dehumanization of men, the power and inscrutability of nature, the cynicism of post-war England, the difficulties in relationships and sex, and the potential of reinvention and resurrection. Young Lou Witt, married, dispirited, weary, and bored, finds in the stallion St. Mawr the vitality the men around her lack. Although "some inscrutable bond held them together . . . a strange vibration of the nerves rather than of the blood," Lou's marriage to Rico enervates her. The relationship soon becomes Platonic, "a marriage, but without sex." The vital animal element of marriage "was shattering and exhausting, they shrank from it." When Lou touches St. Mawr, she finds him "[s]o slippery with vivid, hot life!" His "alive, alert intensity" fires her emotions, which she realizes had died in the post-war era of facile friendships and fun. St. Mawr "seemed to look at her out of another world." With her purchase of the stallion, Lou's perspective alters; "she could not believe the world she lived in." Although unreachable and unknowable, St. Mawr is more real to her than her husband, his friends, and even his apparent new love interest. For Lou, "all the people she knew, seemed so entirely contained within their cardboard, let's-be-happy world." Rico becomes almost a caricature of a man, imitating his father's officiousness and righteous indignation without feeling them. Lawrence describes Rico's meticulous attention to his appearance in detail: ". . . he dressed himself most carefully in white riding-breeches and a shirt of purple silk crepe, with a flowing black tie spotted red like a ladybird, and black riding-boots." While Rico is decorative and transparent, St. Mawr is vital and mysterious. Lawrence uses long swathes of St. Mawr to philosophize, often directly or through the Welsh groom, Lewis, who says, "But a man's mind is always full of things." St. Mawr has no plot, and the stallion himself disappears from the narrative before Lou decides to "escape achievement" in the desert of New Mexico. In New Mexico, Lawrence finds the "wild tussle" of life, which is missing from the long-civilized England, where everything is fenced in and where "the labourers could no longer afford even a glass of beer in the evenings, since the Glorious War." The displaced New England housewife who precedes Lou, seeing beauty in the desert first, then struggle, may represent Lawrence's own perspective and evolution during his stay there. The Man Who Died begins with a peasant's acquisition of a cock--perhaps the one that crows three times before Peter realizes his three denials of Christ. Like the cock, the man who died (or, more accurately, didn't die and therefore didn't rise again) is tied "body, soul, and spirit" by "that string," his commitment to mankind to die and to be resu

St. Mawr & The Man Who DiedI bought this book in order to share Lawrence's vision of the Christian tale with a friend. It brings together universal resurrection imagery from diverse traditions in the moving, incendiary provocative intensity Lawrence is noted for.

St. Mawr is one of the wisest books I've ever read. In it you can find insight and answers to some of the toughest questions you may ever encounter. What is it that brings men and women together? What is it that drives them apart? What exactly is it that we are doing to each other? What does it mean to be civilized? To be savage? What does it actually mean to be human?D.H. Lawrence creates a world with very few words. These characters, though at times stereotypes or archetypes, are extremely real.This book changed the way I look at the world, deepened my understanding of myself and of those around me.

"St. Mawr" and "The Man Who Died," are two separate novellas brought together in this single book. "St. Mawr" is the longer, and less interesting, of the two. While Lawrence uses his usual dramatic (and excellent) flair for describing landscapes and their reflections in personality of those looking outward at them, there's a lack of direction to this story. Even more than usual, Lawrence seems to suffer from a lack of cohesion with this story, but there's a worthy read in it anyway, for his character studies are, as always, sharp enough to draw blood. Put literally, "St. Mawr" is about two women, a mother and daughter, who upon finding a fine stallion with a wildness to it, realize that that wild natural je-ne-sais-pas is missing from all the men in their lives, leading them on an interesting - if continuity flawed - pilgrimmage. "The Man Who Died," would get 5 stars from me on its own. This is an incredibly well written story of an alternate telling of the 3 days that Christ was dead. This is Christ as a human being, not a sacred figure, and as such, I can see why this story caused such a harsh discourse. Struggling to find meaning and reason for his tortures, Christ embarks on a three day journey after waking from the dead on the very same day he was entombed. I refuse to ruin any of the plot for you, but this retelling is magnificent, and a really in depth study of sorrow and suffering, and rebirth. You owe yourself a read of this, even if you skip "St. Mawr."'Nathan

This book kept me up until 3am one night because I just had to finish it.'St. Mawr' is a very entrancing short story about a woman and her dissatisfaction with men as a whole. The heroine, a countrified gentile, has a wild imagination in this, and Lawrence describes her thoughts in terms of the horse's power and motion and ability. I got so caught up in this that I finished it in just over an hour. It's a very well structured read. 'The Man Who Died' has become my favourite contemporary version of the last days of Christ. It's an amazing and original story that leaves you asking questions. Many heavy handed Christians became infuriated by this story when it was published, and i'm sure many will continue to rail against it for the humanizing of thier idol.At first glance, I wasn't aware that they were both seperate stories but, after reading 'The Man Who Died', I kept asking myself - Why are these two stories together like this? The only conclusion I could draw was, the fallibility of one and the infallibility of the other. Be advised though, D.H. does his best to derail your thinking here.