It may sound rather sad, that me, a 23 year old who should be out partying like the mad women she truly is, actually preferred spending some time at home over the last few weekends, especially on World Book Night. I managed to catch one episode of Faulks on Fiction, which on that evening was discussing the lover. It included books such as Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen), Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte) and Lady Chatterly's Lover (D.H Lawrence). After that moment I kept on hearing about Lady Chatterly's lover, either as a reference or documentaries on t.v, so of course I headed to the library to inspect what all the fuss was about.
An incompatible match from the beginning, the lame Clifford Chatterly is desperately to cling onto his wife. In so many words he gives her the okay to have an affair, having never been that much interested in that side of their relationship anyway. He doesn't realise that by doing this he push Connie further away. She begins an affair with the groundskeeper and eventually it turns into something more. I found the book to be somewhat sad. How no one could own up to their own feelings outright. How much simpler it would have been if all the characters had been honest with themselves from the beginning! I still loved it, for the lush imagery and mainly for reason that there was always a small speck of hope for Connie, and that's all I ever really want.