On Lawrence the Lemon Lover

 Citrus Fresh DHL ... l'amante del limone 

  

D. H. Lawrence was someone who appreciated the beauty of the lemon - particularly the lemons that grow in Italy - more than most ... 

 

In Sea and Sardinia, for example, he writes of the lemons hanging "pale and innumerable in the thick lemon groves", where the trees press close together, because, "Lemon trees, like Italians, seem to be happiest when they are touching one another" [1]. 

 

He also notices the heaps of pale yellow lemons lying on the ground: 

 

"Curious how like fires the heaps of lemons look, under the shadow of the foliage, seeming to give off a palid burning amid the suave, naked, greenish trunks. When there comes a cluster of orange trees, the oranges are like red coals among the darker leaves. But lemons [... are] speckled like innumerable tiny stars in the green firmament of leaves." [2] 

 

Whilst in a section of Twilight in Italy, Lawrence writes of tall lemon trees "heavy with half-visible fruit" that look like "ghosts in the darkness of the underworld" [3] and whose flowers give off a subtle and exquisite scent. 

 

They trigger thoughts in him of "the ancient world still covered in sunshine [...] where there is peace and beauty" [4] and none of the black dissonance that belongs to the modern industrial world. 

 

Reading this, one wishes one could either sip un poco di chiar' di luna, con canella e limone [5] or even, indeed, rub a little olive oil on one's naked skin and "wander a moment in the dark underworld" [6] of the citrus grove, balancing a lemon flower in one's navel and laughing, like Juliet, the sun-woman.

 

 

Notes 

 

[1] D. H. Lawrence, 'As far as Palermo', in Sea and Sardinia, ed. Mara Kalnins (Cambridge University Press, 1997), p. 13.

 

[2] Ibid., pp. 13-14.

 

[3] D. H. Lawrence, 'The Lemon Gardens', in Twilight in Italy and Other Essays, ed. Paul Eggert (Cambridge University Press), p. 129. 

 

[4] Ibid., p. 132. 

 

[5] D. H. Lawrence, 'A Little Moonshine with Lemon', in Mornings in Mexico and Other Essays, ed. Virginia Crosswhite Hyde (Cambridge University Press, 2009), p. 99. 

 

[6] D. H. Lawrence, 'Sun', in The Woman Who Rode Away and Other Stories, ed. Dieter Mehl and Christa Jansohn (Cambridge University Press, 1995), p. 24.

 

 

For a citrus fresh sister post to this one, click here.

 

Oranges Are Not the Only Citrus Fruit (In Praise of Lemons)

Édouard Manet's Lemon (1880) [1]

served on a pewter plate against a lime green background 

(SA/2025)

 

 

The thought suddenly struck me after reading a poem by Frank O'Hara [2] that, just as sardines are not the only little fish in the sea [3], so too is it true that oranges are not the only citrus fruit [4] in the world; even if they are by far the most popular for juicing and thus might be said to enforce the same (repressive) model of normality each breakfast time as a bowl of cereal, or a slice of toast.

 

Ever since a young child, I have refused to accept the status quo or conform to popular opinion and so have long been suspicious of oranges and the role they play within society; much preferring lemons, not only for their colour and shape, but also for their smell and even the sharp sourness and acidic bitterness of their taste [5].

 

Oranges can be refreshingly tangy, it's true, but there's always an underlying sweetness that compromises their zestiness in comparison to the lemon and ultimately ordering un citron pressé - or perhaps even a little moonshine with lemon - is so much more punk rock than asking for a glass of orange juice.  

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Manet's picture - Le citron, oil on canvas (14 x 22 cm) - can be viewed on the the Musée d'Orsay website: click here.

 

[2] The poem I refer to by Frank O'Hara is 'Why I Am Not a Painter' (1956), and can be found in The Selected Poems, ed. Donald Allen (Random House, 1974). It can also be found on poets.org: click here. 

 

[3] See the recently published post on anchovies: click here.

 

[4] Obviously, I'm playing with the title of Jeanette Winterson's 1985 novel - Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit - which she later adapted for a BAFTA-winning television drama (BBC TV, 1990). 

 

[5] The juice of the lemon is about 5-6% citric acid; that's slightly more than lime juice; almost twice as much as grapefruit juice; and five times more than orange juice. It might interest to know that lemons also contain more vitamin C than oranges (whilst obviously lower in sugar).  

 

 

For a sister post on D. H. Lawrence's love of lemons, click here.