...criticism

The book was quite widely reviewed, and one such article which particularly attracted Lawrence's attention was by Herbert Read. His less than enthusiastic verdict appeared in The Bibliophile's Almanac for 1928 (1), and was eventually included, in a shortened form with much of the specific criticism omitted, in his book of essays, A Coat of Many Colours (2). The article covers most of those criticisms which can be levelled at the book and, more particularly, at its production, and Lawrence took Read's comments very much to heart, writing a lengthy letter to Edward Garnett in December 1927 (3) which attempted to refute the many biting strictures - although he called it 'Read's very excellent note', and asked Garnett 'If you see Read once more, please tell him that I got more for myself, for my own enlightenment, out of his note than out of most of what has been printed.'

Read accused Lawrence of producing a book 'with an expensive parade of eccentricity and bad taste', and described it as 'a monstrous exhibition of all that a book should not be' and 'an amateur's nightmare'. He complained that it was heavy and ungainly [a bound copy weights a little over 6lbs and is 3" thick], printed in a small type [Lawrence considered the print size too large!], and illustrated by an 'incongruous array of artists'. Lawrence agreed with Read's comment that it was grangerised, declaring that he had said as much in his preface to the illustrations - 'Why shouldn't I grangerise my own book? I bowdlerised it too.' Why not, indeed.

Read was, however, full of praise for the illustrations, singling out for particular admiration the decorations and drawings of Edward Wadsworth and William Roberts, yet complaining that 'they consort oddly with the splendid pavement portraits of Eric Kennington and the politer drawings of Professor Rothenstein and others.'

Read was also very much the traditionalist when it came to the presentation of illustrations - 'there are no dogmas more rightly and immutably established than those which govern the margins of the printed page and its accompanying illustrations. Eric Kennington's portraits, however, slip off into the infinite space around them; their titles get printed on any patch of colour that comes in the way.'

Lawrence was particularly stung by these comments, insisting to Garnett that Rothenstein's drawing was not asked to consort with Kennington's, and pointing out that it had not been possible to print a coloured illustration on a page of type, [there was just one small coloured tail-piece thus presented], 'So all my plates were segregated at the back of the book, in an appendix like a picture gallery.' Their only connection with the text was 'that of needle and thread'. He later wrote to Bruce Rogers 'To combine representational drawings (above all in colour) with the formality of type seemed to me an impossible achievement: so with my instinct to run up against the inevitable, quickly, I put my pictures as an appendix, and without margins, so that they should burst out of their pages.' (4) To Graves he had explained 'The plates were massed at the end of the book so as to be appendices or précis justicatives, rather than illustrations' (5); while a further comment to Bruce Rogers indicates a prejudice which would have reinforced this decision - '. . . while I like decorated books, I do not like illustrated books.' (6)

Lawrence also attempted to justify to Garnett what in all fairness can only be described as the rather casual titling of the illustrations as 'just titles superimposed on colour reproductions of drawings. He would have had me try to turn them into pictures, perhaps. I wanted them to remain outside the book, and be what they were.'

Neither had Lawrence's 'Procrustean labour' escaped Read's notice. 'He has even gone to the length of ruthlessly cutting his text to suit his page. His dogma is: that an initial letter must be placed in the left-hand top corner of the page, and nowhere else; at that it must none the less start a paragraph. Pages and paragraphs are arranged accordingly.' Lawrence was skating on very thin ice with his disclaimer of these criticisms - '. . . any evidence of ruthless cutting, or of cutting, either? I am not aware of it. Of course 15% was cut in making this text from the Oxford version; but my aim and standard of cutting was always the betterment of the prose, and those people who have compared the versions generally give me best with the new one. There are plenty of initial letters not in the top left-hand corner of the page, by the way' - but not the decorative initial letters, which were the intended target of Read's criticism - '. . . unless he has the heresy of thinking each page is separate, and not, like trousers, inseparable as pairs.'

Even the title of the book - to which it had 'no relevant or perceptible application' - offended Read. Lawrence waspishly suggested 'Perhaps Read is not fond of Jewish symbolism?'

Lawrence's presentation of the illustrations had also come in for criticism from William Rothenstein, whose chalk study of Alan Dawnay appeared in the subscribers' edition. Rothenstein shared Read's regard for the established dogmas, and Lawrence replied to his comments in a letter written on 5th May 1927. 'For the brutality of the plates I must plead guilty. The politeness of margin makes me very angry. Kennington's page pastels could be ruled down, so, into normal pictures; but by running them out to the edge they jumped out of the book, and re-became monstrous, and their originals. John and the rest (including you) had to follow suit, in self defence... Regard my Seven Pillars as a protest against the illustrated book, and you'll feel what I am driving at.' Rothenstein commented on this letter in his memoirs (7), observing that 'Lawrence, so certain of what he wanted when he was planning, was oddly uncertain of himself, I noticed, when criticized for anything he had done. Now illustrations without margins were coming into fashion. To me it seemed a detestable fashion', and he was disparaging of Lawrence's excusatory explanation, when he could, and should, have defended this avant-garde format which subsequently became the accepted style.

1	Curwen Press
2	Routledge, 1945
3	L 327, 1.XII.27
4	TES-Bruce Rogers, 10/10/28
5	Biog G, p 56
6	TES-Bruce Rogers, 24/V/29
7	Since 50, Men and Memories, 1922-1938, Faber, 1939, p 70

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