Author: D. H. Lawrence
Genre: Autobiographical fiction
Goodreads Rating: 3.6
My Rating: 2.5
“The marriage of Gertrude and Walter Morel has become a battleground. Repelled by her uneducated and sometimes violent husband, delicate Gertrude devotes her life to her children, especially to her sons, William and Paul – determined they will not follow their father into working down the coal mines. But conflict is evitable when Paul seeks to escape his mother’s suffocating grasp through relationships with women his own age. Set in Lawrence’s native Nottinghamshire, Sons and Lovers is a highly autobiographical and compelling portrayal of childhood, adolescence and the clash of generations.”
Sons And Lovers? A more apt title would have been Sons and Mothers and their Oedipus complex. I mean, at one point he “kissed her passionately.” BUCKET, PLEASE. I was originally going to do a long and full review but honestly, I have nothing but hate for the book. But at least hate is better than indifference. When I say hate, I mean that I have nothing but hate for Paul Morel (son) and Gertrude Morel (mother).
Poor Mrs loses her eldest and most favoured son and begins pinning all her hopes and dreams onto Paul instead in the hopes of living vicariously through him. You know, instead of letting Paul decide what he wants to do. Woman, this isn’t The Sims. Sister Annie/Anne count yourself lucky, you just escaped a life of mental and emotional torture! I feel for Paul nonetheless, his closeness with his mother(‘s c***blocking) damages his ability to form any healthy and stable relationship with any other woman. He seems to believe that love is inextricably linked with hatred. No, it isn’t. Moron. Clara sees sense eventually unlike Miriam. Oh, Miriam, come on. Do better. Do better than Paul Morel.
The pacing is rather jumbled, at once slow and then suddenly rushing. The dialogue is pretty good but prevalent with beating around the bush as most of the characters cannot be honest about what they want… because they don’t know what they want. It’s a book of people not knowing what they want and when they do, which is rarely, they can’t seem to be honest about it. Or their hypocritical mother is there to sabotage it. *Sighs.* If I wanted this kind of drama then I would have watched every show on Star Plus.
Having said all thatttttt… I would still recommend it. It is better that a book evoke a feeling(s) than none at all and I do wish I had someone to rant with about both Gertrude and Paul’s unhealthy coping mechanisms.
Feels great to have written a book review after ages. I’m still currently reading Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children. I’m quite enjoying it now that I’ve approached the twist that I did not see coming (after that slow start)! I’m balancing that alongside learning a new language but I won’t tell you as you never know when you might get a “Valyrian is my mother tongue” moment.
I didn’t do a yearly wrap-up so I, er, thought I’ve over-compensate now. And yep, I did a rapid book review challenge, that I created myself, of TEN BOOKS.
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Goodreads: Sophia Ismaa
That’s all from me. Sopshki out.