It’s a lovely springtime afternoon, and you should be outdoors, at the park lazing about, not cramped inside looking for the cheap thrill of an afternoon bedtime story. Go on, go to the park now, and come back and listen later.
But I can only hope you’ve taken my advice, and I’ll assume that it’s later. So here’s a little Lawrence, replete with lovely Lawrencian descriptions of lovely springtime Yorkshire afternoons (as well as customary twisted-knife metaphors on sexual awakening and violence and death and romantic demystification). Excuse the post-nasal drippery; how’s that for commitment?
4 responses so far ↓
1 Scoot // Mar 23, 2005 at 2:25 am
I can’t wait to hear this–already I want to get out my copy of Cold Comfort Farm or roll in a meadow, if the snow weren’t still so deep here.
2 Scoot // Mar 23, 2005 at 2:28 am
PS Thanks so much for including our website in your listings! We are so flattered and awed.
3 miette // Mar 23, 2005 at 5:21 am
Elas, there’s not much snow in the Dales, though of course we can always close our eyes and remember how lush it might’ve been (if we believe our memory is there to serve us at all!) Have you yet read The Lost Girl?
4 Lee // Sep 3, 2006 at 7:36 pm
Isn’t Lawrence’s story set in Nottinghamshire?
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