Sons and Lovers - Chapter 10
As Paul grew older, his relationship with his mother became more complicated. Gertrude had given all her love to her sons, and she expected their love and attention in return.
With William gone, Paul became the focus of all her hopes and dreams. She watched his every move, commented on everything he did, and seemed unable to let him make his own decisions.
"You should not spend so much time with Clara," she would say. "She is a married woman. It is not proper."
Or, "Miriam is too serious for you. She will make your life sad."
Paul felt trapped. He loved his mother, but her constant interference was suffocating.
"Mother, I must live my own life," he said to her one day, trying to be gentle.
Gertrude looked at him, hurt in her eyes. "I only want what is best for you, Paul. I only want you to be happy."
But Paul wondered if she really knew what was best for him. She wanted him to be a gentleman, an artist, a successful man. She didn't know that he was struggling with his identity, with his desires, with the person he was becoming.
Walter, watching all this from the background, said little. He had learned long ago that it was no use to argue with Gertrude. She was a force that could not be stopped.
But he felt sympathy for his son. He saw the way Paul was pulled in different directions, the confusion in the young man's eyes.
"Let the boy be," Walter thought to himself. "Let him make his own mistakes."
The tension in the house grew. Gertrude's love for her son had become a burden, a heavy weight that Paul carried with him everywhere.
He started spending more time away from home, looking for excuses to be elsewhere—working late, going for long walks, anything to escape the pressure of his mother's expectations.