Another book down in the Summer Reading Program. This book was ranked #9 in the best novels of the 20th century. It was a pretty tough read. The plot wasn't terribly interesting and I really hated D.H. Lawrence's writing style. He would constantly say things like, "She put flowers in her hair which made her so beautiful. He hated her." It almost became a joke since he used phrases like that over and over. My interpretation of the nook was that it was all about the nature of love and how you must destroy a part of yourself in order to bond with another person. The protagonist has a semi-creepy relationship with his mother, and his love for her prevents him from loving any other woman. He has a girlfriend who loves him so greatly, but he just can't bring himself to marry. Marriage is a form of death. What he knows of marriage he gets from the relationship between his mother and father. He is a brutish coal miner who can be abusive. His mother basically ignores him and concentrates on raising the children and taking care of the house. I guess what angered me the most was that the main character could have had a wonderful relationship with one of 2 women, but it seems he overthinks everything about love. He just can't bring himself to surrendering to another person and so he ends up living alone and miserable. To that I said, "Serves you right." It did get me thinking about the nature of love, but then I concluded that it's a subject probably best not thought about too deeply. There is nothing logical about love. You'll drive yourself mad trying to over-analyze it.