Women in Love

There was a swift discussion of technicalities. Gudrun was very much

impressed.

'But how wonderful, to have such a factory!' cried Ursula. 'Is the

whole building fine?' 'Oh yes,' he replied. 'The frieze is part of the whole architecture.

Yes, it is a colossal thing.' Then he seemed to stiffen, shrugged his shoulders, and went on: 'Sculpture and architecture must go together. The day for irrelevant

statues, as for wall pictures, is over. As a matter of fact sculpture

is always part of an architectural conception. And since churches are

all museum stuff, since industry is our business, now, then let us make

our places of industry our art--our factory-area our Parthenon, ECCO!' Ursula pondered.

'I suppose,' she said, 'there is no NEED for our great works to be so

hideous.' Instantly he broke into motion.

'There you are!' he cried, 'there you are! There is not only NO NEED

for our places of work to be ugly, but their ugliness ruins the work,

in the end. Men will not go on submitting to such intolerable ugliness.

In the end it will hurt too much, and they will wither because of it.

And this will wither the WORK as well. They will think the work itself

is ugly: the machines, the very act of labour. Whereas the machinery

and the acts of labour are extremely, maddeningly beautiful. But this

will be the end of our civilisation, when people will not work because

work has become so intolerable to their senses, it nauseates them too

much, they would rather starve. THEN we shall see the hammer used only

for smashing, then we shall see it. Yet here we are--we have the

opportunity to make beautiful factories, beautiful machine-houses--we

have the opportunity--' Gudrun could only partly understand. She could have cried with

vexation.

'What does he say?' she asked Ursula. And Ursula translated, stammering

and brief. Loerke watched Gudrun's face, to see her judgment.

'And do you think then,' said Gudrun, 'that art should serve industry?' 'Art should INTERPRET industry, as art once interpreted religion,' he

said.

'But does your fair interpret industry?' she asked him.

'Certainly. What is man doing, when he is at a fair like this? He is

fulfilling the counterpart of labour--the machine works him, instead of

he the machine. He enjoys the mechanical motion, in his own body.' 'But is there nothing but work--mechanical work?' said Gudrun.

'Nothing but work!' he repeated, leaning forward, his eyes two

darknesses, with needle-points of light. 'No, it is nothing but this,

serving a machine, or enjoying the motion of a machine--motion, that is

all. You have never worked for hunger, or you would know what god

governs us.' Gudrun quivered and flushed. For some reason she was almost in tears.