A review of Second Best

I have read a short love story, Second Best, by D H Lawrence.  Lawrence is good at using words to describe the scenery, animals and the relationships between men and women in great detail.

The Story is set in the British countryside in high summer.  The main character, Frances, is unhappy that she can't get the man of her choice, Jimmy, who is well educated but is a snob, and has got engaged.  So, she decides to go out with Tom, although he is her second choice.  Anne is Frances's younger sister, and thinks Tom is much better than Jimmy.

During my first read, I thought there were too many detailed descriptions of the natural surroundings and an incident in which Frances's sister kills a mole.  These did not interest me.  After I reread it, I realised the surroundings and the mole are used as a metaphor for Frances's feelings.  I did not only admire the author's use of language, but I was also interested in the plot.

At the beginning the author uses the weather and the colours of the scenery to describe Frances's mood, which is bad.  When she looks at the surroundings, which are strange and unfriendly, she feels alone and that she does not belong there.  When she decides to forget Jimmy, she has mixed feelings, both sad and cheerful.  Later, she meets Tom and the description of the scenery changes subtly to emphasize the practical aspect of landscape.

The mole represents Frances's blind love for Jimmy.  When the mole struggles, this represents her internal struggle to forget Jimmy.  The animal opens its mouth uncontrollably and bites her sister.  This represents Frances's anger but she does not know what to do or want to talk to anyone about her feelings.  The mole escapes briefly but does not know which way to go and at the same time Frances wants it to be gone, showing she wants to free herself from the memory of Jimmy but she can't.  If the mole had escaped, she could have secretly continued to love Jimmy.  In the end her love for Jimmy dies and she gives her love to Tom.

I would like to recommend this story to everyone, as it shows how the author uses words to paint pictures.

A rain of white cotton

April 2013

A small park at Mosco, 2013.

We had a long drive between two tourist attractions in Moscow, so our driver needed a break for a cigarette.  We stopped at the side of the road and got out of the coach to stretch our legs and take some fresh air.  There was a small park with a concrete path, which was covered with white cotton. At first I thought it was snow, but then I realised it couldn't be snow as it was spring!  The cotton was light and soft. Most of it had collected along the sides of the path.  I wanted to step on it, but it floated away when I got near it.  My guide saw me so he showed me a trick that amused me and put his lighter to the cotton.

At first I tried to stop him as I was worried he would set the park on fire. But he knew what he was doing. The cotton burned with a small pretty flame, red in the centre, then yellow, and blue at the edges. It only lasted a few seconds since the cotton was not spread equally over the path and where there wasn't much, the fire went out. When he saw this, he pushed more into the fire with his foot. It didn't burn for long and the tiny flame looked harmless, but I thought it would be unwise to touch it.

My guide told me the cotton was part of the seed of a tree, but I forgot the name. I could only find it was called a poplar tree on the Internet.  So I still not sure the name of the tree.

On a windy day, you can see cotton blowing in the wind.  It looks more like driving rain than snow, although it's white. Great clouds of it are blown along.

I enjoyed seeing this while I was sitting in the coach, but when I was walking along the street, I had to cover my nose and mouth.  Some of the cotton bolls occasionally stuck on my head, my shoulders and clothes.  I wondered how long it would take before I was completely covered with cotton if I lay on the ground.