Lady Chatterley's lover
Ours
is
essentially
a
tragic
age
,
so
we
refuse
to
take
it
tragically
.
The
cataclysm
has
happened
,
we
are
among
the
ruins
,
we
start
to
build
up
new
little
habitats
,
to
have
new
little
hopes
.
It
is
rather
hard
work
:
there
is
now
no
smooth
road
into
the
future
:
but
we
go
round
,
or
scramble
over
the
obstacles
.
We
’
ve
got
to
live
,
no
matter
how
many
skies
have
fallen
.
This
was
more
or
less
Constance
Chatterley
’
s
position
.
The
war
had
brought
the
roof
down
over
her
head
.
And
she
had
realized
that
one
must
live
and
learn
.
She
married
Clifford
Chatterley
in
1917
,
when
he
was
home
for
a
month
on
leave
.
They
had
a
month
’
s
honeymoon
.
Then
he
went
back
to
Flanders
:
to
be
shipped
over
to
England
again
six
months
later
,
more
or
less
in
bits
.
Constance
,
his
wife
,
was
then
twenty
-
three
years
old
,
and
he
was
twenty
-
nine
.
His
hold
on
life
was
marvellous
.
He
didn
’
t
die
,
and
the
bits
seemed
to
grow
together
again
.
For
two
years
he
remained
in
the
doctor
’
s
hands
.
Then
he
was
pronounced
a
cure
,
and
could
return
to
life
again
,
with
the
lower
half
of
his
body
,
from
the
hips
down
,
paralysed
for
ever
.
This
was
in
1920
.
They
returned
,
Clifford
and
Constance
,
to
his
home
,
Wragby
Hall
,
the
family
’
seat
’
.
His
father
had
died
,
Clifford
was
now
a
baronet
,
Sir
Clifford
,
and
Constance
was
Lady
Chatterley
.
They
came
to
start
housekeeping
and
married
life
in
the
rather
forlorn
home
of
the
Chatterleys
on
a
rather
inadequate
income
.
Clifford
had
a
sister
,
but
she
had
departed
.
Otherwise
there
were
no
near
relatives
.
The
elder
brother
was
dead
in
the
war
.
Crippled
for
ever
,
knowing
he
could
never
have
any
children
,
Clifford
came
home
to
the
smoky
Midlands
to
keep
the
Chatterley
name
alive
while
he
could
.
He
was
not
really
downcast
.
He
could
wheel
himself
about
in
a
wheeled
chair
,
and
he
had
a
bath
-
chair
with
a
small
motor
attachment
,
so
he
could
drive
himself
slowly
round
the
garden
and
into
the
fine
melancholy
park
,
of
which
he
was
really
so
proud
,
though
he
pretended
to
be
flippant
about
it
.
Having
suffered
so
much
,
the
capacity
for
suffering
had
to
some
extent
left
him
.
He
remained
strange
and
bright
and
cheerful
,
almost
,
one
might
say
,
chirpy
,
with
his
ruddy
,
healthy
-
looking
face
,
and
his
pale
-
blue
,
challenging
bright
eyes
.
His
shoulders
were
broad
and
strong
,
his
hands
were
very
strong
.
He
was
expensively
dressed
,
and
wore
handsome
neckties
from
Bond
Street
.
Yet
still
in
his
face
one
saw
the
watchful
look
,
the
slight
vacancy
of
a
cripple
.
He
had
so
very
nearly
lost
his
life
,
that
what
remained
was
wonderfully
precious
to
him
.
It
was
obvious
in
the
anxious
brightness
of
his
eyes
,
how
proud
he
was
,
after
the
great
shock
,
of
being
alive
.
But
he
had
been
so
much
hurt
that
something
inside
him
had
perished
,
some
of
his
feelings
had
gone
.
There
was
a
blank
of
insentience
.
