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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence: of a fellow with straight black hair and a weird Celtic conceit of
himself. His art was all tubes and valves and spirals and strange
colours, ultra-modern, yet with a certain power, even a certain purity
of form and tone: only Mellors thought it cruel and repellent. He did
not venture to say so, for Duncan was almost insane on the point of his
art: it was a personal cult, a personal religion with him.
They were looking at the pictures in the studio, and Duncan kept his
smallish brown eyes on the other man. He wanted to hear what the
game-keeper would say. He knew already Connie's and Hilda's opinions.
'It is like a pure bit of murder,' said Mellors at last; a speech
Duncan by no means expected from a game-keeper.
Lady Chatterley's Lover |
