And the baboon, almost a man, or almost a high beast, arrested himself and became obscene;
a grey, hoary rind closed upon an activity of strong corruption. - D. H. Lawrence
One of the well-known things about D. H. Lawrence is that he was fascinated by non-human life and the wonders of the natural world.
A wide variety of animals move freely throughout the pages of his books, although, sometimes, they have logs thrown at them, or are chased round the room with a hanky. Or - if they happen to be porcupines - they are shot and beaten to death with a stick. And it's important to remember this: for whilst Lawrence might respond with an extraordinary degree of sensitivity to the sheer otherness of animals, he didn't sentimentalize them and he certainly didn't love them all with equal affection.
In fact, there are some creatures which Lawrence seems to hate and to fear with an almost insane level of intensity. He might like fish, to whom so little matters, and delight in porpoises playing by the side of his boat; he might value mountain lions and admire the indomitable character of a baby tortoise, but Lawrence doesn't care for any of the following: vultures, hyenas, baboons, and beetles.
These animals are accused by Lawrence of arrested development; i.e. of preserving their own hard static forms about a centre of seething corruption. They are, he says, forms of shit-eating anti-life; asserting themselves static and foul, triumphant in inertia and will. And they fill him with unthinkable horror.
Indeed, for Lawrence, even the snake in comparison is beautiful with vital reality; for although the snake is a creature of the underworld and the oozing marsh, it shares in the same life as mankind: "He struggles as we struggle, he enjoys the sun, he comes to the water to drink, he curls up ... to sleep".
We can and must make peace with the serpent and let him take his place among us; it will, writes Lawrence, be a sign of bliss when we are reconciled in this fashion. Unfortunately, however, more and more men and women seem drawn in the direction of carrion and insects and baboons; desperate to remain ideally intact and feeding on putrescence.
See: D. H. Lawrence, 'The Crown', in Reflections on the Death of a Porcupine and Other Essays, ed. Michael Herbert, (Cambridge University Press, 1988). The line quoted in the text is on p. 297. Line quoted beneath the photo of a baboon is on p. 295.
