In early 20th-century England, the lives of Ursula and Gudrun Brangwen are about to unravel. Ursula, a passionate teacher, seeks a profound connection. Gudrun, an artist, yearns for an extraordinary love. When they encounter enigmatic men-Rupert Birkin and Gerald Crich-their worlds collide in a whirlwind of desire and uncertainty. As secrets unravel and tensions rise, hearts will be broken, alliances tested, and passions ignited. In D.H. Lawrence's captivating "Women in Love," societal expectations clash with the pursuit of true happiness, leaving readers craving more.
One morning, Ursula and Gudrun Brangwen were working and conversing in the window bay of their father's Beldover home. Gudrun was sketching on a board that she was holding on her knee while Ursula worked on a piece of vibrantly colored embroidery. They spoke occasionally while remaining largely silent as their thoughts wandered.
Gudrun questioned, "Don't you really WANT to get married, Ursula?" Ursula set down her stitching and raised her head. Her features were composed and thoughtful.
I'm not sure, she said. Depending on what you mean,
Gudrun was a little surprised. She spent a while observing her sister.
Ironically, she responded, "Well, it typically implies one thing! In any case, don't you think you'd be in a better position than you are right now? she said, her face growing slightly darker.
Ursula's face began to cast a shadow.
I might, she admitted. But I'm not certain.
Gudrun waited once more, her irritation growing. She wished to be quite specific.
She questioned, "You don't think one needs the experience of having been married?"
Ursula asked, "Do you think it needs to BE an experience?"
In a calm tone, Gudrun remarked, "Bound to be, in some way or another." Though possibly unpleasant, there will undoubtedly be some form of experience. Not really, Ursula replied. More probable, the experience's end.
Gudrun sat motionless as she took care of this.
Of course, she continued, "There's THAT to think about." The dialogue ended as a result. Gudrun grabbed her rubber and started rubbing away at her drawing in an almost enraged manner. Ursula meticulously sewn.
Gudrun questioned, "You wouldn't consider a good offer?"
I believe I've turned down a few, Ursula remarked.
'REALLY!' But is there truly anything worthwhile? Gudrun blushed darkly. are you serious?
"A thousand a year and a really nice guy," he said. I really liked him, Ursula said.
'Really! But weren't you tempted in a scary way?"
Ursula responded, "In the abstract, but not in the concrete." When it comes down to it, one isn't even tempted; if I were, I'd get married right now. I simply feel the want to resist. Both sisters' smiles quickly sprang on their faces.
Isn't it wonderful how strong the temptation is to resist? exclaimed Gudrun. They exchanged glances while laughing. They were terrified deep down.
There was a protracted lull while Gudrun continued her sketch and Ursula embroidered. Ursula, who was twenty-six, and Gudrun, who was twenty-five, were sisters. However, rather than looking like Hebe's sisters, both had the distant, virgin appearance of contemporary girls. Gudrun has soft-skinned, soft-limbed, passive beauty. She was dressed in a dark-blue silky dress with emerald-green stockings and ruches of blue and green linen lace around the neck and sleeves. Ursula's sensitive expectancy was in stark contrast to her confident yet reserved demeanor. Gudrun's flawless joie de vivre and exclusive bareness of manner startled the locals, who referred to her as "a smart woman" because of it. She had recently returned from London, where she had spent several years studying, working, and attending an art school.
Gudrun abruptly caught her underlip in her teeth and muttered, "I was hoping for a man to come along," with an odd grimace that was equal parts sly smile and sorrow. Ursula felt anxious.
She asked, laughing, "So you came home expecting him here."
Gudrun exclaimed, 'Oh my dear,' 'I wouldn't go out of my way to look for him. But if a sufficiently wealthy, extraordinarily gorgeous person were to appear, well-well," she cynically trailed off. She then gave Ursula a probing glance as if to question her. Doesn't it seem like you get bored sometimes? she questioned her sister. Don't you notice that things never come to pass? NADA MATERIALIZES! Everything dies in its youth.
What withers in the bud, Ursula questioned.
Oh, oneself, things in general, everything. There was a pause while each sister hazarded a guess as to what would happen.
Ursula responded, "It does frighten one," after another pause. But do you think getting married will advance your career?
Gudrun remarked, "It seems to be the logical next step." With a hint of resentment, Ursula thought about this. She had been a class mistress at Willey Green Grammar School for a number of years.
I know, she acknowledged, "when one thinks in the abstract, it seems like that. But truly picture it: picture any male you know greeting you at the door every night with a kiss and saying, "Hello." There was a pause.
Gudrun said with a shrunken voice, "Yes." It's simply not doable. It is impossible because of the man.
Of course there are kids, Ursula answered hesitantly.
Gudrun become more inflexible.
Do you REALLY want kids, Ursula? she sternly questioned. Ursula's face took on a bewildered, dazed expression.
She said, "One feels it is still beyond one."
Do you feel that way, Gudrun questioned. "I feel absolutely nothing even thinking about having kids."
Gudrun's expressionless visage resembled a mask as she regarded Ursula. The woman knit her brows.
Maybe it's not real, she hesitated. Maybe one merely wants them on the surface-not genuinely in their soul. Gudrun's face began to get rigid. She didn't want to be overly certain.
Ursula remarked, "When one considers other people's children-"
Gudrun gave her sister another stern look.
She concluded by saying, "Exactly," to end the discussion.
Ursula always had the peculiar brightness of an intrinsic spark that is captured, meshed, or contravened while the two sisters labored in quiet. She spent a lot of her time by herself and by herself, working and going about her daily activities while always reflecting and attempting to grasp life in her own words. She had stopped doing anything active, yet something was happening in the shadows. If only she could get beyond the remaining defenses! Like a baby in the womb, she appeared to try to extend her hands, but she was unable to do so at this time. Still, she possessed an odd precognition that hinted at future events.
She put her work down and turned to face her sister. In her softness, delicate, exquisite richness of texture, and delicacy of line, she found Gudrun to be infinitely charming. She also had a particular whimsical quality, such a hint of irony or piquancy, and such an unbroken reserve. She was someone who Ursula admired deeply.
Prune, why did you return home? she enquired.
Gudrun was aware of admiration for her. She took a seat back from her sketch and peered at Ursula through her delicately arched eyelashes.
She asked again, "Why did I come back, Ursula?" Many times, I have asked myself that question. And you don't know?
"Yes, I believe I do," I believe that returning home was just RECULER POUR MIEUX SAUTER.
She then gave Ursula a knowing glance that was slow and deliberate.
Ursula said, "I know!," while appearing slightly dazed, feigned, and as if she did not know. But to where can one leap?
Oh, it doesn't matter, Gudrun remarked, in a quite excellent manner. "If one jumps over the edge, one must land somewhere," the saying goes. But isn't it really risky, Ursula questioned.
Gudrun's face started to smile mockingly slowly.
She exclaimed, "What is it all but words?" while grinning. She then ended the conversation once more. But Ursula continued to ruminate.
And now that you've returned, how do you locate home? she questioned.
Before responding, Gudrun made a brief, icy pause. I find myself entirely out of it, she replied, in a chilly, sincere tone.