A simple twist of fate
OUR lives are subject to twists of fate, so we are bound to sometimes think, “What if”. “If” being a very big little word.
It was on September 25, 1908, that DH Lawrence wrote hastily to his future fiancee Louie Burrows, from Vernon Park in Stockport, having been interviewed for a teaching post.
“Unsuccessful here – tomorrow must go to Croydon after another.” “IF” Lawrence had got that job, might his life and the future of English literature been horribly diverted? Perish the thought!
Lawrence was unimpressed by the town and expressed little disappointment. “Stockport is a dirty, ugly place,” he tells Louie. “I’m rather glad I’ve not got it. Hope I get Croydon.”
On his first visit to the capital, Lawrence heads to Barnet, home of his cousin Alfred Inwood, London Editor of the Sheffield Telegraph, who advises him on
“how to start in journalism”. The interview at Davidson Road School took place on September 28.
Lawrence informs Louie on October 6 that Charles Bristowe, the first Director of Education for Nottinghamshire, “has just written to say he can find me employment very shortly, but I have written and refused with thanks. No more Notts. C C for me”. By October 7. he can tell Louie he’ll begin “work at Croydon on Monday... my salary £95”. The school log records he started on October 12 – today’s date!
He “called in coll”, finding he had a First Class Teacher’s Certificate, and was top student, with “distinction in French, Botany, Maths, Hist. and Geog.”, adding “never anything in English – is it not a joke?”
Lawrence now felt it an “unhappy fate” to leave “the few people with whom my heart would wish to stay”. However, he became largely happy and at home living in London, making vital contacts.
The teaching was tough (as he records in many fine poems), but aided by friends, patrons and talent his writing career took off.
A hundred years ago, on October 12. 1920, Lawrence writes to niece Margaret Needham, “Auntie Frieda is back”, and “quite flourishing after her trip”. “Let me know how you are.”
Hilda Brown and Percy Whittley hear he’s leaving “chilly” Venice for Florence and Rome, due “Taormina by the 18th”.
On October 13. he thanks Edward Marsh for his “inspiring” cheque – he “had a bottle of Lacrimi Christi Spumanti on the strength of it, and in the clear, pure, pale-blue autumn sunshine felt the world magical.” Gertrude Cooper learns he’s “thinking about the coal strike”, then imminent.