Character Clues
Character Analysis
Clothing
Very much like in everyday life, clothing in Sons and Lovers tends to demonstrate a person's social class. As the Morel children start to earn money at jobs, they slowly pull their mother out of the poverty that their father cast her into with all his lying and drinking. The moment when they get Mrs. Morel into new clothes, then, marks a significant transition in their fortunes:
[W]hen Annie insisted on her having more stylish blouses to suit her age, [Mrs. Morel] submitted. She even went so far as to allow a black velvet bow to be placed on her hair […] The family was coming on. (10.59)
The only person who doesn't participate in this family makeover is Walter, and his miner's clothing symbolizes his failure to improve himself as a man. Haven't you ever bought a new hat to fit in better with a new clique, or donned a suit for a job interview?
Be advised: your clothes can dictate your potential for class mobility, kiddos.
Direct Characterization
Lawrence likes to tell it like it is when it comes to his characters in Sons and Lovers. Throughout the book, our trusty narrator tells us directly what each character's about. For example, when describing Mrs. Morel, the narrator notes, "She had a curious, receptive mind which found much pleasure and amusement in listening to other folk" (1.80).
Family Life
From the very beginning of Sons and Lovers, we get to know the Morels through their family dynamic. To put it politely, Mrs. Morel is really into her oldest son William. And the whole crowd pretty much grows to hate Walter, the family patriarch:
No one spoke to him. The family life withdrew, shrank away, and became hushed as he entered. (2.210)
For his part, Walter starts to dislike his family, too, since he's unwilling to apologize for anything he ever does. He even comes to resent having his wife and kids around while he's at home, because "with his family about, meals were never so pleasant" (2.4). Whine, cry, Walter.
Occupation
At first, Walter Morel's occupation as a miner is what makes Gertrude (Mrs. Morel) attracted to him—to her, he's an uninhibited, steamy, blue collar-type. See, she has completely unrealistic ideas about how brutal the life of a miner is, and thinks that "the life of the miners, hundreds of them toiling below earth and coming up at evening […]" is somehow "noble" (1.103).
Our boy Paul Morel's got different ideas. As he grows up, he realizes that the world of business is a terrible thing that sucks the souls out of human beings. When he's only fourteen years old, his mother tells him he needs to go look for a job, and his anguish at this shows you how much of a sensitive, free spirit he is.
He mourns the loss of his childhood instantly, and feels that "already he was a prisoner of industrialism" (5.71). Ultimately, Paul really wishes he could bypass the business world and become a "a painter, the real thing" (5.65). But by the end of the book, he still works at a factory.
Womp womp.
Sex and Love
With a title like Sons and Lovers, this book sounds like it should contain its fair share of sex and romance. Luckily for us, Lawrence doesn't disappoint. However, sex and love are never without their complications in this book.
Nearly every feeling of fondness seems to contain at least a little hate, and this tells us a lot about Lawrence's view on the conflicted nature of love and the human character. Even when Mrs. Morel allows herself to laugh at her abusive husband, for example, her laughter is tinged with bitterness:
[S]he laughed to herself: but her heart was bitter, because she had loved him. (2.247)
The bitterness comes from her realization that she no longer loves her husband, though she once did. Walter might have been a great guy at one point, but too many years of drinking and awful, violent behavior have made him an enemy in the Morel house.
Later in the book, the complexities of love start to seep into Paul Morel's relationship with Miriam Leivers. In this case, Miriam wonders whether she should have sex with Paul for the sake of keeping his love for herself. We guess sex = ownership, in her mind. Eek.
But she worries that "he would be disappointed, he would find no satisfaction, and then he would go away" (11.9). In other words, Miriam ends up hedging her bets and having sex with Paul just for the sake of keeping him, even though she realizes this plan probably won't work.
In the end, neither Paul nor Miriam can overcome their hesitations about submitting to a life of coupledom. Both of them love one another, but neither can make that crucial final move—and the sacrifices of certain freedoms it might bring.