This is WOULD‘s 100th post! So to celebrate, here is a WOULD from (approx) 100 years ago. D. H. Lawrence, or Dave, as I like to refer to him, was a primo 27 years old in 1912, and he was quite the handsome bearded chap. Although his real fame came slightly later in life, just before his sad and early death at 44, Dave was writing promising poems and short stories from his late-teens onwards. You will best know him for his amazingly sexy and ahead-of-its-time work of fiction, Lady Chatterley’s Lover, which was deemed so positively pornographic by the uptight prude dudes of the 1920s literary world that it wasn’t published in its unadulterated form until 1960. Fortunately for us, it was. Sean Bean owes his fucking career to this man. And we need obscenity in our lives. Hence why you read this blog, you PERVERT.
(Kudos to the lovely Jake C, as this antique edition was his idea. I really liked it, and therefore stole it and almost passed it off as my own)