D. H. Lawrence 1885 - 1930

His Life English novelist, poet, playwright, essayist, literary critic and painter Lawrence was born into a poorly educated, working- class family Lawrence became a teacher, and began writing poetry and short stories

As his work became more popular, Lawrence stopped teaching and wrote full time Lawrence met and eloped with Freida Weekley, a married mother of three who was six years his senior Freida was of German heritage and Lawrence was outspoken against war; this caused them much stress during WWI

Once Weekley obtained her divorce, she and Lawrence married; their lives were still difficult because of the war Lawrence’s work begins to explore relationships; his work is often banned because of its content The Lawrences traveled and moved often, finding peace in Taos, New Mexico

They built a home in Taos Lawrence suffered from severe illness – malaria and tuberculosis – that caused him to return to Europe Lawrence lived his final days in Italy; his body was cremated and is buried in Taos

His Work Although Lawrence’s early poems are classified as Georgian, his novels and short stories soon took on a modern approach to subjects that were “taboo” in post-Victorian England Some of his work was published, but others were banned because of their strong sexual content

Today, these works are considered thoughtful and sophisticated; in their day, they were considered pornographic In 1960, his publisher had to defend in court their decision to publish Lady Chatterley's Lover The publisher won the right to produce the work

A friend defended him: In the face of formidable initial disadvantages and life-long delicacy, poverty that lasted for three quarters of his life and hostility that survives his death, he did nothing that he did not really want to do, and all that he most wanted to do he did. He went all over the world, he owned a ranch, he lived in the most beautiful corners of Europe, and met whom he wanted to meet and told them that they were wrong and he was right. He painted and made things, and sang, and rode. He wrote something like three dozen books, of which even the worst page dances with life that could be mistaken for no other man's, while the best are admitted, even by those who hate him, to be unsurpassed. Without vices, with most human virtues, the husband of one wife, scrupulously honest, this estimable citizen yet managed to keep free from the shackles of civilization and the cant of literary cliques.