A still from the death-bed scene in Sons and Lovers (dir. Jack Cardiff, 1960)
Dean Stockwell as Paul Morel and Wendy Hiller as his mother, Gertrude
Dean Stockwell as Paul Morel and Wendy Hiller as his mother, Gertrude
One of the key scenes in Lawrence's Sons and Lovers is the death of the mother, Gertrude Morel, due to an overdose of morphia administered by her son, Paul (in complicity with his sister, Annie).
This termination of a terminal condition by Paul - his mother has cancer and is suffering acutely - is little discussed in the critical literature, leading one to surmise that euthanasia remains a more problematic and uncomfortable subject even than incest.
It's arguable, however, that whilst Lawrence proclaimed himself a priest of love, he's as devoted to Thanatos as to Eros and as death-intrigued as he is sex-obsessed. Indeed, there are times when Lawrence seems to value death as a limit-experience, far more than fucking. And so I think we're justified in exploring the tragic scene in chapter 14 closely and without reserve.
It's difficult to do so, however, without referring to Lawrence's own experiences, as loath as I am to read fiction as a disguised form of autobiography and to seek extra-textual support for literary analysis. For Lawrence, like Paul, had a fatal role to play in the mercy killing of his own mother, who, like Mrs Morel, was dying a painful death with cancer.
Doubtless both Lawrence and Paul experienced the same sense of helplessness and horror that many people feel when obliged to watch over loved ones in pain or distress; it's not easy, it's not pleasant, and it's not edifying. Most will secretly wish that the burden of providing palliative care is lifted sooner rather than later. Some will be tempted to bestow the gift of a good and gentle death.
But only a very few will have the courage to actually do what needs to be done and risk not only a lifetime of grief and guilt, but criminal prosecution for murder. For there are times when death doesn't always set quite so free as hoped and as promised by the chapter's title, 'The Release'.
Thus I admire and respect Lawrence/Paul for being generous with the morphine in the milk and for understanding that there are times when one best expresses fidelity to life's promise not by preserving it at all costs and under all circumstances, but by killing those who are incapable of either living or dying with an affirmative will; i.e., those who linger on, afraid to die, but effectively already dead-in-life, feeding off of the vitality of those around them.
Euthanasia - like suicide - is, at it's best, not only a practice of joy before death, it's also the active negation of the negative; a form of counter-nihilism. Ultimately, we must all learn to remove the grey hairs off our jackets and let them go up the chimney (even those of our mothers).
Notes
D. H. Lawrence, Sons and Lovers, ed. Helen Baron and Carl Baron, (Cambridge University Press, 1992).
For an excellent essay on this topic see Claudia Rosenhan, 'Euthanasia in Sons and Lovers and D. H. Lawrence's Metaphysic of Life', in the D. H. Lawrence Review, 2003/04, Vol. 32/33.
See also the related post on Torpedo the Ark: In Praise of Euthanasia as a Practice of Joy before Death.
This termination of a terminal condition by Paul - his mother has cancer and is suffering acutely - is little discussed in the critical literature, leading one to surmise that euthanasia remains a more problematic and uncomfortable subject even than incest.
It's arguable, however, that whilst Lawrence proclaimed himself a priest of love, he's as devoted to Thanatos as to Eros and as death-intrigued as he is sex-obsessed. Indeed, there are times when Lawrence seems to value death as a limit-experience, far more than fucking. And so I think we're justified in exploring the tragic scene in chapter 14 closely and without reserve.
It's difficult to do so, however, without referring to Lawrence's own experiences, as loath as I am to read fiction as a disguised form of autobiography and to seek extra-textual support for literary analysis. For Lawrence, like Paul, had a fatal role to play in the mercy killing of his own mother, who, like Mrs Morel, was dying a painful death with cancer.
Doubtless both Lawrence and Paul experienced the same sense of helplessness and horror that many people feel when obliged to watch over loved ones in pain or distress; it's not easy, it's not pleasant, and it's not edifying. Most will secretly wish that the burden of providing palliative care is lifted sooner rather than later. Some will be tempted to bestow the gift of a good and gentle death.
But only a very few will have the courage to actually do what needs to be done and risk not only a lifetime of grief and guilt, but criminal prosecution for murder. For there are times when death doesn't always set quite so free as hoped and as promised by the chapter's title, 'The Release'.
Thus I admire and respect Lawrence/Paul for being generous with the morphine in the milk and for understanding that there are times when one best expresses fidelity to life's promise not by preserving it at all costs and under all circumstances, but by killing those who are incapable of either living or dying with an affirmative will; i.e., those who linger on, afraid to die, but effectively already dead-in-life, feeding off of the vitality of those around them.
Euthanasia - like suicide - is, at it's best, not only a practice of joy before death, it's also the active negation of the negative; a form of counter-nihilism. Ultimately, we must all learn to remove the grey hairs off our jackets and let them go up the chimney (even those of our mothers).
Notes
D. H. Lawrence, Sons and Lovers, ed. Helen Baron and Carl Baron, (Cambridge University Press, 1992).
For an excellent essay on this topic see Claudia Rosenhan, 'Euthanasia in Sons and Lovers and D. H. Lawrence's Metaphysic of Life', in the D. H. Lawrence Review, 2003/04, Vol. 32/33.
See also the related post on Torpedo the Ark: In Praise of Euthanasia as a Practice of Joy before Death.
No comments:
Post a Comment