D.H. Lawrence – Lady Chatterley’s Lover

32067 Well, there’s not even an excuse for me this time. Simply D.H. Lawrence book “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” was so dearly boring half-way in, that I could not bear a full chapter. It’s not a bad or poorly written book. It’s simply mundane and boring.
Connie marries this high-class man Clifford. He’s stubborn, and a bit too proud, being paralyzed in war from waist down. He has Connie to do most his things he can’t do, for he can’t bear to have a man-servant or gods forbid – let some maid put his legs into a decent chair position. Connie, in the mean time, is just as stubborn and fairly damn childish, if I may say so. They’re different, her and Clifford, but they both agree on one thing: it’d be nice to have a child at Wragby’s. So with her husband’s blessing, Connie opens her eyes to seek a potential father for their common child. The only demand Clifford had – pretend it’s his. Somehow. Anyhow.
Now, here starts the nonsense. Connie seems to get attached to every man with whom she got used to having sex. Sort of – okay, so now I’m not just a doll for you to screw, I like you. Really? And then there’s whole that “choosing the wrong man” line of story, which leads to eventual end of “no one wants that damn child of yours, Connie”. Were it not for her father, this book could’ve been a fair disaster. And yet I do recommend it to be read. Why? Common knowledge. Get to know why it was a taboo book. Go on.
I can’t give this book more than 2 out of 5. And still, not because it’s a bad book. It’s merely not interesting. Not for someone with mentality set firm in our common times. This is a bit too old type of explicitly, mixed with Bolshevism for me.

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