D.H. Lawrence writes like a painter would write were he to. What is most real in the writings of Lawrence is the physical world, and of course the body. Mornings in Mexico is really a slight work but with a charm to it. There is a relating of facts (especially about Indian life and thought) that you would expect from a travel piece but the charm is in the kind of easy sauntering pace that the narrative keeps. That feeling that it is vacation time and there really is no hurry. The house he lives in for his stay in Mexico and the surrounding markets and open fields in which he walks and the balcony he stands on in the morning with parrot are all pleasantly described. It feels like a place you want to be. The way time away should feel. There is a slight mournful air to the fact that the Americans are beginning to spoil the place, it is as if the Americans have brought that intruder time itself into this timeless land. It's not so much the details you will remember as the overall feel of the work. And Lawrence himself. And here he seems at ease, searching as always but not desperately so, which is a nice Lawrence to spend time with.

Lawrence was a good traveller in these parts and he spent a lot of time carefully observing the Indians he met along the way. He was particularly interested in the ways of thought of the Indians and their religious beliefs and the ways their ideas differed from yours and mine. On simple concepts like time and distance, for example: "To an Indian, time is a vague, foggy reality. There are only three times: en la manana (morning); en la tarde (afternoon); en la noche (night). But to the white monkey (you and me) there are exact spots of time, such as five o'clock and half past three." The Indian's concept of God was different from ours. "With the Indians...there is strictly no god. The Indian does not consider himself as created and therefore external to God, or the creature of God. There is, in our sense of the word, no God. But all is godly. There is no great mind directing the universe. Yet the mystery of creation, the wonder and fascination of creation shimmers in every leaf and stone... There is no God looking on. The only God there is is involved all the time in the dramatic wonder and inconsistency of creation. God is immersed, as it were, in creation, not to be separated or distinguished. There can be no ideal God." Lawrence does a wonderful job of digging into this exotic culture and explaining to us the significance of Indian rituals and dances. I particularly liked one of his statements: "The Indian is completely immersed in the wonder of his own drama." There is also a lovely example of descriptive travel writing in "Market Day", a chapter that makes you slow down your reading pace to savor the beautiful descriptions of small things like a bird's flight or flowers in a doorway. I guess this is the difference between reading and information-processing, which we do so much of today.

In 1919 Lawrence arrived in Venice with a banned book to his name, living on very little and concerned with health problems. His last years in Venice were to include a relationship with Frieda and travels between America, Europe and England - Body Of Truth: D.H. Lawrence, The Nomadic Years, 1919-1930 re-creates his movements and his nomadic years, and his eventual reconciliation with the literary world.

The Boy in the Bush is a minor work being a collaboration between Lawrence & Mollie Skinner. It is still a interesting read containing "Laurentian" ideas more fully worked out in his other novels.

A great collection of short stories that describe the life of simple people, in simple circumstances, yet seen from extraordinary points of view. Stories that make you say, why didn't I see that ? There's a rhythm to the writing that makes it very close to poetry.

Stimulating and thought provoking critical approach to Lawrences work. Ground breaking research by the late Prof. Yudhishter 30 years ago, this book is still a 'must' for any serious Lawrence reader.

This is a wonderful introduction to Lawrence - the author writes with an astonishing originality and authority. It made me want to return to the original text and begin re-reading Lawrence all over again.

D.H. Lawrence's "The Rainbow" is a very good book that has been rated as one of the 150 most influential books of the 20th century by many lists. But even classics go out of print. The book is about a young couple, how they meet, and their sexual relations. The couple produces many children which causes the mother to be more of a mother than a lover. Will, the eccentric, masculine father, is confused by this lack of interest in him and frightened by his dominating wife. This book is a classic of psychological realism.

Once in the South of France, I met a man not of this Earth. His eyes spoke of Old Testament knowledge while his body was reminiscent of Greco-Roman athletes in their prime. The honeyed words which flowed from his lips bathed the throng of admirers that flocked about him in a golden light of Olympian purity. I stumbled haltingly, almost not daring to look upon such a god/man. And yet, to look away, to leave the presence of such a being would surely bring far greater pain. Edging my way forward, I found it impossible to reach this man. The mass of followers which pulsed about him were far too great. As I collapsed to the ground, frustrated and overcome, I felt a strong yet gentle hand touch my shoulder. "Rise up and Read, my child." The stranger placed a copy of "Cafe Millennium" in my eager hands and drifted off in monastic solemnity towards all that is good and right in the world. My life has never been the same.

This book won the Whitbread prize in the U.K.-and deservedly so. It is a thoroughly researched, vivid and well written portrait of a brilliant miner's son writing against a death sentence he would never acknowledge-tuberculosis. After assisting the death of his all-important mother, Lawrence was supported by a wife whom he stole from another man (actually, she had him in bed within 20 minutes of meeting him, in her then-husband's house, too.) Freida was highly sexed and also almost compulsively unfaithful to him. They had dreadful fights, but somehow never actually split up. Brings alive the hothouse intellectual atmosphere of the Fabians, Freidians and Edwardian England, and the awful (and for Lawrence personally humiliating) cultural oppression of both Britain and America in the teens and twenties. You also get to travel around the world with the couple-Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Ceylon, Australia, Taos N.M., and Mexico, meeting the famous and infamous as you go. And with many well-chosen excerpts from Lawrence's letters, poetry and novels, you get a level of understanding of where his books came from which is very helpful in appreciating them. And him. I made the mistake of taking this book to Las Vegas. I didn't do any gambling.