D.H. Lawrence surprised me with his novella “The Fox.”  How enthralling and mysterious it was!  I could not so much as put it down for a second that I actually made my Letty read it to me as I cooked dinner.  What can I say?  It benefited us both.  She read to me from the part where the poor fox dies in the hands of Henry.  Oh Henry, to think, I was actually in favor of him in the beginning!  Although I must admit, there was always something a little curious I felt in his presence.  Oh, look at me!  I am speaking as if I had been in his presence, as if it were more than just a story!  How silly, I believe I actually felt the same pull towards him as March did.  Though I would have been able to resist him.  Foolish woman, she hardly even tried.  You see, even though March was portrayed as the stronger woman, it seemed to me that Banford had more willpower than she.  March was externally strong, sure.  She chopped wood, and what else?  Manly tasks she did.  Yet, she was not built as a woman ought to be.  She was too focused on being a man to realize that she failed at being a woman.  As women, our work is not to replace men but to be internally powerful, respectable, and so on.  We are the mighty ones who build strong families that we have the task of holding together, faithfully choosing to follow the path that will lead us into goodness, just as I did with choosing Caleb.  March chose the wrong path.  She chose Henry – just a child who would lead her where?  I am not sure she knew.  But Banford knew that he would lead her in the wrong direction.  Oh, why didn’t she listen to Banford’s womanly intuition?

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