One thing that struck me about Lolly Willowes was the form that her defiance of London and her family takes in the first few pages of the second part of the book and the way that Lolly realizes the extent of her displacement. Everything in London rattles and clashes, and the city is harsh and cold and sharp. The mechancal nature of London is emphasized in the "iron noises" of the household and the "demolition" at the end of the day. Even the life in London in mechanized- the lawyers have mousetrap mouths and the flowers are prepared in exactly the same way every day with tools that are laid out in an unwavering and organized manner. She realizes that she will never be as efficient as Caroline or as at home as she is in this harsh city environment even as she settles in. London even physically harms Lolly: the water makes her hands raw and red and she becomes susceptible to chilblains.
Lolly rebells against this cold, impersonal efficiency with her floral extravagances. Her personal space riots with flowers in winter that she collects from around the world. She brings chaotic life into her own space to ward off the environment of the city.
It isn't until she walks in on a slice of nature in the middle of the city that she realizes just how much pain she is in. The greengrocer's shop, with its casual arrangement and vegetable heaps, speaks to Lolly of human hands and changing seasons. Lolly was used to the wild organic nature of the county and the cold steel of the city enjoying the separation of travel, and the shock of juxtaposition sends Lolly's mind freewheeling into the possibility of a different life.
No comments:
Post a Comment