Aaron's Rod by D. H. Lawrence

First published: 1922

Type of work: Romantic tragicomedy

Time of work: December 24, 1919, to November, 1920

Locale: A town in the Midlands of England, London, and cities in Italy, notably Novara, Milan, and Florence

Principal Characters:

• Aaron Sisson, a secretary to a miner’s union and an orchestra flutist
• Lottie Sisson, his wife
• Millicent Sisson, the oldest of their three daughters
• Jim Bricknell, a war veteran, the son of the mine owner
• Josephine Ford, his fiancee, an artist
• Rawdon Lilly, an English gentleman
• Francis Dekker, a traveling Australian painter
• Angus Guest, a traveling Welsh painter
• James Argyle, a traveling English writer
• Manfred, the Marchese del Torre, a colonel in the Italian army
• Nan, the Marchesa del Torre, his wife

The Novel

This brooding, bittersweet work, neither utterly tragic nor notably optimistic, begins with the sights and sounds of Christmas Eve. Aaron Sisson has been gathering sweets, candles, and holiday ornaments for his family. As they prepare their decorations, his oldest daughter, Millicent, senses that something is not quite right with him. At a party that night, Aaron appears openly relieved to be away from his wife and daughters. He is also intrigued by Josephine Ford, the fiancee of Jim Bricknell, their host’s son. Quite abruptly, Christmas comes and goes, and several days afterward, Aaron departs from his home, leaving his wife with a schedule of payments from their bank for the family’s support.

Aaron has surreptitiously packed a few possessions, including his flute and piccolo; later he appears at the London opera. After the performance, he takes part in a discussion of the issues of the day with his earlier companions. He is introduced to Rawdon Lilly, a man of uncertain means who seems to frequent social gatherings. He and Jim Bricknell exchange stories from World War I, and with Aaron they consider the war’s portent for society at large. Aaron subsequently has dinner with Josephine Ford, alone, and they meet again in April. When Aaron is unexpectedly taken ill, he goes to Rawdon Lilly, confesses that he has allowed Josephine to seduce him, and complains that his health has suffered inexplicably as a result. After a brief visit to a doctor—evidently to treat a mild case of influenza—Lilly suggests that Aaron may find employment with his music in Italy. In September, once the opera season in London has concluded, Aaron returns briefly to his home; no reconciliation with his wife is possible. She cannot find any explanation for his desertion and condemns him as a vile coward. He is certain that no love exists between them anymore.

With only sporadic engagements in London, Aaron becomes fretful and uneasy. He reconsiders Lilly’s proposal and, albeit with some misgivings, decides to set off for Italy. The pursuit of his calling takes him from Novara to Milan and then to Florence. Along the way, he is perturbed by unfavorable currency exchange rates, high prices for goods, and problems in establishing living accommodations. In Milan, he is disquieted when someone fires two shots at a dog, and again when the police round up political demonstrators. In Florence, his letter-case, with a certain sum of money, is taken from his person; he feels certain that passing soldiers stole it. While England had seemed weary and gloomy in the war’s aftermath, Italy appears unsteady and restless as agitation spreads across the country. Aaron encounters various expatriates who, in their own ways, ponder the concerns of their times.

Some of the emigres are decidedly more interesting than others. Aaron finds Francis Dekker and Angus Guest dull and trivial, and he has some difficulty putting up with James Argyle, an English writer. The ubiquitous Rawdon Lilly is somewhat more thoughtful, though a bit abrasive at times. In Florence, Aaron is introduced to Nan, the Marchesa del Torre. An American woman of about forty, originally from the Southern states, she has married a little man who is identified as a colonel in the Italian army. Perhaps because of their mutual attraction to music—the Marchesa can sing rather well and appreciates Aaron’s accompaniment on his flute—they are drawn to each other. On two occasions they make love in a hotel room; he is reminded somewhat of Cleopatra, and then of his wife, Lottie. He muses that the bond of marriage still holds him transfixed, if not by love then through a sense of continuing obligation.

Aaron’s situation seems unresolved even as the novel moves toward its conclusion. During a conversation with Lilly and others, in which ideals and problems of the individual are discussed, an anarchist’s bomb is set off nearby; during the explosion, Aaron’s flute is destroyed. When the smoke clears, Aaron, who is cut and bleeding somewhat, is led away by Lilly; the musician nervelessly throws the remaining fragment of his instrument into the river Arno. He is uncertain whether to follow his companion to southern Italy. After a rather abstract discussion about spiritual guidance and values, Aaron poses a question to Lilly that brings the work to an end:

“And whom shall I submit to?” he said.

“Your soul will tell you,” replied the other.

The Characters

The odd and seemingly aberrant direction in the development of Aaron Sisson is at the center of this work; other characters are significant largely to the extent that their paths meet or diverge from his. A parting of the ways takes place in his life when he is thirty-three: The origins of this transformation are shown only indirectly, if at all. The antimony of settled domestic life as a colliers’ secretary and the pursuit of his musical practice in London and Italy is deepened by the open breach brought about by desertion of his wife and his later infidelities. Yet for all of his resolution to follow the imperatives of his being where art and love are concerned, he seems curiously indecisive. Indeed, when he is taken ill in London, Lilly rubs him down with oil, like a child; there are hints at times of a kind of regression. It requires Lilly’s prodding for him to go on to Italy. He seems susceptible to inner forces that impel him onward, oblivious to the passage of familiar time (Christmas, springtime, and much of the London opera season pass by unnoticed) but toward the end, he has pangs of remorse for leaving his wife, and he must look to Lilly once more when considering whether to continue as he has done in Italy.

The women in his life appear only at intervals. From what is known of her, Lottie Sisson was once beautiful but has become plain and practical, the more so from Aaron’s long familiarity with her. It would appear that she did little to precipitate a crisis in their married life; nor do her reactions to his desertion evince anything more than the sense of betrayal and abandonment that would be natural for one in her situation. Glimpses of her past attractiveness appear in another form, during Aaron’s affair with the Marchesa. Although for Aaron at the outset she may be invested with exotic qualities, she is of an age and bearing that also calls to mind his wife, and it may be for this reason that he does not pursue further his relations with her.

Other socialites and emigres seem to substantiate the author’s observation that “it is remarkable how many odd or extraordinary people there are in England.” Some are more engaging than others; some merit attention largely for their expression of the dark memories and disillusionment spawned by the war. Josephine Ford, an artist who has designed dresses in Paris, moves comfortably in fashionable circles and shares Aaron’s affection for music, but she seems flighty and too forward. He is reluctant to become seriously involved with her. His reaction to her advances is profound but is shown only obliquely when he is taken ill. Rawdon Lilly, Aaron’s mentor and confidant, seems to sense his friend’s spiritual needs and to anticipate the changes that take place within the musician. He is also the one who most succinctly and explicitly calls to mind wartime incidents, from people he has heard or met, that suggest the more basic overthrow of values that seems to have settled upon England and Europe. He is a mysterious sort, who turns up unexpectedly at certain junctures, and he seems a bit cryptic in his personal ways even as his advice to Aaron is cogent and incisive.

Some characters cannot be taken so seriously and essentially provide a contrast with Aaron’s quest for self-realization. Some of the travelers in Italy, for example, are of only passing interest; the peripatetic and self-important writer James Argyle contributes some rather inane observations to discussions that otherwise have a serious import. Argyle’s presence seems to cast Aaron’s purpose in a more significant light when set against more aimless and self-indulgent pursuits.

Critical Context

In terms of D. H. Lawrence’s literary development, Aaron’s Rod lies somewhere between the English romances of his early career, such as Sons and Lovers (1913) and The Rainbow (1915), and the far-flung settings of some of his later ventures. It takes place after World War I, and it expresses throughout both a sense of horror and disillusionment and further concerns about the stability of the postwar world. There are passages in Aaron’s Rod in which it is suggested that political and national warfare represent on another level a continuation of the struggle between men and women, and as in the political realm, relations between the sexes have undergone an upheaval that has upset prevailing conventions without establishing a new equilibrium. Aaron’s Rod also marks a departure from the familial concerns of earlier works. Though neither particularly provocative nor notably suggestive, the work’s handling of Aaron’s adultery foreshadows Lawrence’s later concern with problematic marriages and affairs of the heart.

Although Lawrence spent about four years working on Aaron’s Rod, the novel is not remarkable for its structure or style; some unkind critics have been too harsh, however, in dismissing it as merely a first draft that Lawrence sent off when he had finished it. Many of the hallmarks of his work—direct vivid description and penetrating evocation of qualities of feeling—may be found in it, and it can be argued that the novel has its own specific virtues and its own curious appeal. The novel is important, in any event, as an intermediate production, which, in addition to its own merits, is indicative of the direction Lawrence’s muse was taking during the years immediately following the world conflict.

Bibliography

Baker, Paul G. A Reassessment of D. H. Lawrence’s “Aaron’s Rod,” 1983.

Hamalian, Leo. D. H. Lawrence in Italy, 1981.

Meyers, Jeffrey. D. H. Lawrence and the Experience of Italy, 1983.

Miller, Henry. Notes on “Aaron’s Rod” and Other Notes on Lawrence from the Paris Notebooks, 1980.

Nehls, Edward H., ed. D. H. Lawrence: A Composite Biography, 1919-1925, 1958.