A Virginia Woolf Trio

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A Virginia Woolf Trio

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1Karlus
Redigeret: apr 2, 2007, 12:12 pm

Virginia Woolf is frequently described as a feminist author but, in my view that combined description tends to short change her glory by far. She is separately acknowledged to be a magnificent author and, in addition, an early feminist noted for her exploration of gender issues in her writings. It is these two aspects that especially appeal to me about her writing, and it is these aspects that I shall principally comment upon here.

After having read A Room of One's Own many years ago, the three works that I have recently read in succession are Mrs. Dalloway, To the Lighthouse, and The Waves, in the same sequence that they were published during the space of a relatively few years from 1925 to 1931 (which also included A Room of One's Own).

An early and contemporaneous critic of Virginia Woolf's work (Winifred Holtby, in Virginia Woolf, 1932) noted that the author was "freeing herself from 'the old clumsy tools' of fiction to take up writing as an adventure rather than as a discipline," and even today one has to call the reading of that trio of novels a glorious adventure in the English language -- even if some do call them challenging, or difficult, or even impossible.

This reader comes away with the feeling that Virginia Woolf was fearless when she put pen to paper. We begin, at the beginning, with the opening to Mrs. Dalloway:

Mrs. Dalloway

"Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.
For Lucy had her work cut out for her. The doors would be taken off the hinges; Rumpelmayer's men were coming. And then, thought Clarissa Dalloway, what a morning -- fresh as if issued to children on a beach.
What a lark! What a plunge! For so it had always seemed to her, when, with a little squeak of hinges which she could hear now, she had burst open the French windows and plunged at Bourton into the open air. How fresh, how calm, stiller than this of course, the air was in the early morning, like the flap of a wave; the kiss of a wave; chill and sharp and yet (for a girl of eighteen as she then was) solemn, feeling as she did, standing there at the open window, that something awful was about to happen; looking at the flowers, at the trees with the smoke winding off them and the rooks rising falling; standing and looking until Peter Walsh said, "Musing among the vegetables" -- was that it? -- "I prefer men to cauliflowers" -- was that it? He must have said it at breakfast one morning when she had gone out on the terrace -- Peter Walsh. He would be back from India one of these days. . . ."

Thus does a story, which has frequently been overly-simply described as "a single day in the life of Clarissa Dalloway," burst the constraint of its pages, by means of her reveries, and move to encompass her childhood home at Bourton; reach half way around the world to events in India; stretch back in time many years to events when she was eighteen; and also announce her acquaintance with the young Peter Walsh. And in this paragraph she has only just stepped outside her front door, and been kissed by the fresh air on an errand into town!

The errand is portentous too, for it is the opening hint of Clarissa Dalloway as a capable woman, taking in hand. and helping to assure. the success of her party to come that evening, which Lucy from her household staff, and others, are already preparing for feverishly.

This story, as it goes on, is the easiest of the three to assimilate, despite the appearance of individual character's reveries and streams of consciousness, because its overall flow of events in sequential time is comparatively easy to follow. Among other characters we meet a shell-shocked war veteran, Septimus, and his adoring and devoted wife, Rezia, in a love story which will melt your heart if any love story ever will. We see Clarissa being the gracious hostess at her enormously successful formal dinner, as the Prime Minister visits briefly there with other movers and shakers who have come. We see her happy marriage reflected in the glorious double-sized bouquet of roses that her husband bestows upon her. Finally, at the end, that same Peter Walsh is so taken with Clarissa's complete radiance that he can manage but her name when he sees her step out on the landing,

"It is Clarissa, he said
For there she was."

In my eyes, Clarissa Dalloway is the successful admirable woman, and Mrs. Dalloway is a wonderful story.

To the Lighthouse

It is clear that, in the 'adventure' of writing these three novels, Virginia Woolf set herself progressively more difficult tasks each time. Consider the following excerpts from the opening of To the Lighthouse

" 'Yes, of course, if it is fine tomorrow.' said Mrs. Ramsay. 'But you'll have to be up with the lark,' she added.
To her son, these words conveyed an extraordinary joy, as if it were settled, the expedition were bound to take place, and the wonder to which he had looked forward, for years and years it seemed, would take place.
. . . .
'But,' said his father, stopping in front of the drawing room window, 'it won't be fine' . . . grinning sarcastically, not only with the pleasure of disillusioning his son, and casting ridicule upon his wife, . . . but also with some conceit at his own accuracy of judgement. . .
. . . .
'But it may be fine. I expect it will be fine,' said Mrs. Ramsay, making some little twist of the reddish brown stocking she was knitting, impatiently. If she did finish it tonight, if they did go to the Lighthouse after all, it was to be given to the Lighthouse keeper for his little boy, who was threatened with a tuberculosis hip."

Here at the opening we get the early first glimpse, in contrast to Mrs. Dalloway, of a less than ideal marriage, and later it will be shown that Mr. Ramsay has quite a temper also. Mrs Ramsay goes on to think,

"They must find a way out of it all. There might be some simpler way, some less laborious way she sighed. When she looked in the mirror and saw her hair grey, her cheek sunk, at fifty, she thought possibly she might have arranged things better -- her husband; money; his books. But for her own part she would never regret for a single second her decision, evade difficulties, or slur over duties. She was now formidable to behold, and it was only in silence, looking up from their plates, . . . that her daughters could sport with infidel ideas which they had brewed for themselves of a life different from hers; in Paris perhaps; a wilder life; not always taking care of some man or other; for there was in all their minds a mute questioning of deference and chivalry, of the Bank of England and the Indian Empire, of ringed fingers and lace, . . ."

Nor is that the last of the ruminations about gender issues, or the reader trying to understand the love between Mr. and Mrs Ramsay. For as Ms. Woolf says, she "reverences him".

In the course of events, Mrs. Ramsay emerges as a socially adept and emotionally mature woman, proactive in attitude, and quite capable of encompassing and managing her life and her husband's foul moods. She manages an enormous dinner for the house guests whom the Ramsays have invited to the seaside for vacation. And she takes her own pleasure from the fact, as she takes in the scene from the end of the table -- much as a Director of a Board of Trustees might preside over a meeting -- that her guests are enjoying them selves in conversation with one another. The dinner goes well and, moreover, two guests have announced their engagement, after she inconspicuously arranged that they might have some innocent quiet time, to walk the beach together, before dinner. Mrs. Woolf gives good dinners, and Mrs. Ramsay makes good arrangements!

In my eyes Mrs. Ramsay emerges from the story as a thoroughly admirable compassionate woman who succeeds by expanding to the fullest the severe framework within which she is constrained and taking charge of her life within it.

In comparison, the story is much more psychologically nuanced that Mrs. Dalloway, and, in addition, the telling of the Ramsay story also follows a more complicated path. It poses correspondingly greater challenges for the reader because the story is told almost entirely through the eyes and unspoken interior thoughts of the Ramsays and their children, plus their half-dozen house guests. But eventually, out of all these multiply disparate and partial views of the same events that are spread throughout the pages of the novel, a clear picture of the two Ramsays can be gleaned by the careful reader (and re-reader, if need be).

The Waves

In taking her next experimental step forward, to The Waves, Virginia Woolf takes a giant step indeed, and leads the reader into almost uncharted territory for a novel. She deliberately defies almost any conventions that one might think of. There is no narrator. There is no central character. And there are no minor characters. There are six major characters, equally important, and, for most of the novel, they don't speak to or interact with each other. They start out together as children, three girls, three boys, before heading off to school,

"I see a ring," said Bernard, "hanging above me. It quivers and hangs in a loop of light. "
"I see a slab of pale yellow," said Susan, "spreading away until it meets a purple stripe."
"I hear a sound," said Rhoda, "cheep chirp; cheep, chirp; going up and down."
"I see a globe" said Neville, "hanging down in a drop against the enormous flanks of some hill."
"I see a crimson tassel," said Jinny, "twisted with gold threads."
"I hear something stamping," said Louis, "A great beast's foot is chained. It stamps, and stamps, and stamps."

After schooling they go their separate ways, getting together later in life on only two occasions, for dinners to honor one of their off-stage friends, Percival. The novel traces each of their lives through nine stages, from childhood, through their careers, and marriage or not, to death for some of them. At each stage, round-robin fashion, the reader alone hears a soliloquy from each of them about their lives, feelings, hopes and fears to date. At the end, "The wave crashes on the shore."

To what effect, might you ask? Hear the author herself (from"How Should One Read?")

"Do not dictate to your author, try to become him. Be his fellow worker and accomplice. . . if you open your mind as widely as possible, then signs and hints of almost imperceptible fineness, from the twist and turn of the first sentences, will bring you into the presence of a human being unlike any other."

Let us continue our quest just a bit further and focus on the women, Susan, Jinny and Rhoda.

One of these girls grows up and returns to her parents' farm where she lives contented.
One of these girls grows up, only to take her own life in despair at the loss of a love.
But one of the girls grows up and might be the emancipated woman of the time, the metaphorical sister to one of Mrs. Ramsay's own children, choosing "a life different from hers . . . a wilder life."

This book is a story of facing and living life.

Following Ms. Woolf's admonition. Read, and listen. Read. Listen!

(I might add, if at first you don't succeed -- and many haven't -- then try, try again. :) )

2almigwin
apr 2, 2007, 9:38 am

Karlus:
Thank you so very much for the wonderful post about Virginia Woolf. It is the best short discussion of her work I have ever seen. You show how much more it is than "Stream of Consciousness". I hope it will encourage some LT'ers to read her who haven't yet done so.

3Cateline
Redigeret: apr 2, 2007, 9:43 am

Karlus,
Thank you for such a great comparison study. I have read Mrs. Dalloway and To the Lighthouse, still have The Waves in my stack...quite near the top. Maybe I ought to bring A Room of One's Own near the top as well. :)

I fully agree that "feminist author" does not give Woolf the credit she is due, she's much more than that and her nuances are subtle and telling.

4Karlus
apr 2, 2007, 9:50 am

almigwin, cateline,
Thank you for your very kind words.
Indeed, Virginia Woolf is more than people realize -- much, much more.

5Karlus
apr 2, 2007, 11:41 am

Denne meddelelse er blevet slettet af dens forfatter.

6margad
apr 2, 2007, 3:42 pm

Karlus, thanks for a wonderful review. I've read A Room of One's Own and Orlando, but none of the three you reviewed, though I have been meaning to read Mrs. Dalloway, especially since the film of The Hours came out. Alas, the big problem with this group is the way my list of books to read keeps expanding! I must carve out more time to read. Woolf's novels are short, but it would undoubtedly do her (or rather, oneself) a disservice to read them too quickly.

A writer like, for example, Cormac McCarthy, who focuses on very masculine concerns, is simply considered a writer, not a "masculinist" writer. There has been some controversy in recent years over the phenomenon of major literary prizes being awarded, on average, to many more men than women writers. This seems to reflect a reality that reviewers for major newspapers and magazines still assume more often than not that writing which delves deeply into a woman character's psyche is feminist writing, a category of limited interest, whereas writing that delves deeply into a male psyche is somehow more universal.

At a writer's conference a couple of years ago, one of the presenters was Christian Bauman, author of The Ice Beneath You, a novel about the U.S. military intervention in Somalia. He and his agent both wanted to market the novel to women. His publisher felt that, the novel being a war story with a male protagonist, the audience would be primarily male and marketed it based on that assumption. It turned out, though, that Bauman was correct - most of his readers were women.

If it's important to women to understand the male pscyhe, it seems to me it should be equally important to men to understand the female psyche. And to both sexes to understand what's universally human. Perhaps that's changing.

On a different topic, I was struck by the way Woolf introduces suspense in the openings you quote, despite the relatively quiet plot lines. In Mrs. Dalloway, "something awful was about to happen," and "He would be back from India one of these days ..." With To the Lighthouse, I want to read on to find out who will be right about the weather - I am so rooting for Mrs. Ramsay! (Don't tell me - I will read the novel sooner or later.) And the opening to The Waves is so mysterious. I questioned whether children would really use such sophisticated language - and yet that is part of the suspense: they seem to be extraordinary children with the potential to do, or at least feel, extraordinary things.

7Karlus
apr 2, 2007, 9:59 pm

Hi Margad,
You are certainly right to think of reading Woolf slowly. I don't think there is any other way to read her and absorb anything -- unless to read her twice which I have sort of been doing.
I have been reading the Holtby book since I posted above, and it is fascinating to read how deliberate Virginia Woolf was about wanting to write in a new style and how she went about doing it. And, actually, she ended up very nearly trying a different style for each of her major works. So, after the reader finishes her novels, she rewards further study still, for further insight into their written styles and structures. She's a fascinating author.

8margad
apr 2, 2007, 11:12 pm

That's so interesting, that she wanted to write in a new style each time. It explains why Orlando is so different from the others, too. Jane Smiley does something similar. Nowadays, novelists are advised not to do this! It's all about making money by targeting your market and continuing to write what they want and expect. But Smiley does okay, it seems to me.

9Karlus
apr 2, 2007, 11:53 pm

It's all doubly amazing to me! I'm not a writer, and know nothing about it, so I naively assumed one would be lucky enough to have one style that could get published. Shows what I know!

10margad
apr 3, 2007, 12:46 am

Well, to an extent, I think no writer escapes having a recognizable style. But some do experiment with different genres (for lack of a better word) or adapt the voices in various of their works to characters from different time periods or social classes, for example. Ken Follett wrote a bunch of thriller-type popular novels and then shifted to historical fiction with Pillars of the Earth, an extraordinarily well-researched novel about the building of a medieval cathedral which also works beautifully on the level of pure storytelling.

11Karlus
apr 3, 2007, 1:31 am

One day, maybe soon, I'll get around to Pillars of the Earth, now that my major Woolf project is tapering off. It is right alongside of me here.

12Cateline
apr 3, 2007, 6:28 am

margad,
I've read that Follett is coming out with a sequel to Pillars very soon. /sigh/ Of course that means I'll have to reread "Pillars of the Earth" just to get the characters straight again. :)

I like most of Follett's work, but found he'd become a bit repetitive in the last few years, I'm glad he is going back to Pillars.

And yes, I agree that Woolf must be read slowly, but then reread as well to really get more.

13emily_morine
apr 3, 2007, 2:02 pm

Woolf definitely had a recognizable voice, but it IS amazing what a breadth of literary feats she was able to pull off...Karlus, I loved reading your comparison of these three novels, but I feel like you're short-changing Mrs. Dalloway a bit. It does have the sweetness of love and success that you talk about, but isn't there also an immense sadness? Clarissa's regretful/nostalgic memories of the kiss with Sally and intimate-yet-troubled relationship with Peter Walsh, Septimus' inability to grieve his fallen captain, Richard Dalloway's inability to tell his wife he loves her (even though she knows it anyway), Rezia's yearning for companionship, everyone's scars from WWI...reading it makes me feel exhilarated and deeply joyful, but I think those emotions would be less acute if it weren't for the struggles and sadness intermixed throughout the day.

14Karlus
Redigeret: apr 3, 2007, 2:42 pm

Emily,
Yes you are right on target in everything you say! The book has all those facets and, also, its streams of consciousness are not as easy to follow as my post probably implied. It is a beautiful book, chock-full of the effects you mention, together with a wandering consciousness that is unbelievable now that I think of it.
In mitigation of my lapses I can only plead a) that I was writing from memory of the features that stood out in my mind (which I tend to do), and b) I felt that there was so much one might say about each book that I was trying to keep within reasonable bounds. Full length essays on each of the principal characters would really be needed to do them, and Ms. Woolf's descriptions of them justice, and each in itself might be longer than my post, I fear.
I have noted your reviews here in LT, (perhaps you remember), and I would love nothing better than to hear your own comparisons of any of Woolf's works. I am certain you can write them better than I can. Seriously. So I truly appreciate the exceptions you have taken above and view them as a step in that direction. :) Please do!

15margad
apr 3, 2007, 6:15 pm

Karlus, congratulations on writing the review that, so far, wins the prize for stimulating the most discussion! (Woman in White/Dracula is a close second, but since I am now writing another post, Woolf Trio is in first place. I think it would be impossible to do full justice to any set of books in the space of a reasonably sized online review - the point is to uncover new ideas that might not emerge when considering a single book on its own, and your review has done that so beautifully - and continues to do it, as new postings reveal yet more facets of Woolf's genius.

Cateline, your comment that Woolf should be reread makes me all the more eager to get around to reading these novels for the first time. I love books that truly reward rereading: there are all too few of them around.

Also, I'm delighted to hear Follett is working on a Pillars sequel. If it's well-written (and he has the skills, so it probably will be), it shouldn't be necessary to reread Pillars to enjoy it. But it will offer a great excuse to do so!

Emily, I second Karlus' motion for you to write a comparison review for us soon. I know you won't disappoint us!

16emily_morine
apr 3, 2007, 6:16 pm

Awww, you're so nice! I totally relate to the feeling of holding yourself back from fear of over-writing...especially about Mrs. Dalloway! I wrote two papers on it in college & just about died both times...every time you uncover the "next" layer, you find there's another one waiting just beneath it. I think Woolf described it as making "deep caves" within the work. She certainly succeeded, eh? Your reviews were a really refreshing change from all the folks who choose to dwell on just the "depressing" aspects of the novel. I will also try to get my thoughts in order to post here soon.

17margad
jul 12, 2007, 4:59 pm

Here's another layer. I've read Mrs. Dalloway now and was surprised to find myself more captivated by the story of Lucrezia Warren Smith and her husband Septimus than by the main thread. I haven't figured out yet what the link is between the two stories of Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Dalloway -- maybe you or someone else has some ideas -- but knowing what I know about Virginia Woolf (which her readers could not know when the book was initially published), the Smith characters must have been close to her heart.

I felt so indignant at the Smiths' treatment by the medical professionals they relied on for help. Psychologically wounded by the trauma of his service during WWI, Septimus is struggling to regain enough peace of mind to live a reasonably normal life.

Lucrezia Smith is an heroic figure. She can't know what her husband went through -- he is too damaged to tell her, and society as a whole seems to have banished the WWI experience as a topic of conversation, except for the most superficial references. The husband she fell in love with has essentially disappeared, replaced by an antisocial man-child with desperate needs he isn't able to articulate. Setting aside her natural resentment, she does her best to figure out how to help him -- and does a far better job than the professionals who insist her efforts are wasted or harmful.

I can't help wondering whether the novel shouldn't have been titled "Mrs. Smith" instead. Do you think Woolf means to suggest that Mrs. Dalloway is similiarly heroic? Or was the novel hijacked by the Smith characters?

18emily_morine
jul 19, 2007, 3:44 pm

I love the Smiths too! That scene with the too-small hat is one of my favorites in all of literature.

Woolf definitely intended Septimus Smith to be as central a character as Clarissa Dalloway...she wrote about how they are sort of shadow-twins (NOT her exact words) or two sides of the same coin. And I think Woolf did intend to paint Clarissa as a heroic character as well - hers is the quiet heroism of continuing on with life, reconciled to the inevitable imperfections and regrets that come with a full life - or a life as full as she could make it. Septimus makes a different choice, but I think Woolf is trying to communicate that they are both heroic in their own ways.

19margad
jul 19, 2007, 9:38 pm

Was it Septimus or Lucrezia who Woolf thought was a kind of twin to Clarissa? It's easier for me to see the similarities between Lucrezia and Clarissa, because both of them are persistently struggling to support and smooth the way for other people's lives. Lucrezia has the harder task because her husband is so damaged, but she was on the verge of succeeding when the doctor interfered.

But perhaps Septimus was trying to orchestrate the simple visual and sensory patterns in his environment and in his mind in a similar way to the way Clarissa was trying to orchestrate all the details of her party?

20Cateline
jul 20, 2007, 12:03 am

The party itself was the main thread (I almost want to call the party a character!) running through the story. Mrs. Dalloway's preparations, the various guests-to-be. The hateful Dr. Bradshaw was her guest and her first impression of him was one of distrust. p.178--
"Why did the sight of him, talking to Richard, curl her up? He looked what he was, a great doctor. ~~~~ Yet--what she felt was, one wouldn't like Sir William to see one unhappy. No; not that man."

Bradshaw brought Septimus Smith's story to the party, and she strongly resented that fact. She sensed the doctor had no sympathy, no empathy in him. Mrs. Dalloway was afraid of him as I think Woolf would have been/was.

21margad
jul 20, 2007, 7:24 pm

Thank you, Cateline! I had missed that.

22Beatrice16
Redigeret: jun 26, 2008, 6:07 pm

I have read "To the lighthouse" and have just finished "Mrs. Dalloway". As the story of Clarissa is the one fresh in my mind, I will only comment on that one.

One thing which came into my mind was the fact that Clarissa and Septimus and his wife are the only ones who does not know each other in the book. So why do we hear about Septimus and his wife Lucrezia at all?
Reading some biographies of Virginia Woolf has given me some clues. Septimus is not part of the family or circle of friends but he represents the total opposit of Clarissa. She is female and he is male. She is a stay at home wife where as he was a soldier. She is in her 50ties, he is young. She chooses life and he chooses death.
At the end of the book, Clarissa is more or less forced to embrace death and her own choice of life as Septimus "shows up" at her party.
In real life Virginia has a nephew, Julian Bell 1908-37, who dies in the war. She has two very religious aunts who may have been portraited in the likes of Mrs. Kilman. Her father and his father and so forth are from a long line of men in the old victorian England who thought of women to be supporters of their husbands and mother and that being the center of the womens lives. Something which both Virginia and her sister certainly rebel against and make their own choices in life, something which was impossible only a generation back from Virginia´s. Virginia has several breakdowns and therefor she knows of how doctors can be and why they must have been frightening in some ways for sensitive souls like Septimus. There are many things which could be a version of something from the real life of Virginia, I only mentioned a few here.

I find that the book is packed with themes as Karlus so very well suggests in his introduction of the book. And as some of you also mentions there is really a great deal about love and marriage, but also religion verses reason, illness verses sanity, the old victorian colonian understanding of the world verses a new change in the air, different classes and sex and gender etc etc.

The genious of the book is that all these themes and many more are mentioned as a portrait of life on a wednessday in London. I feel the depth of the themes, the way the issues have effected each of the charactes in the book even though the style is not to stop and describe in details the life and understanding of each person. The style is the famous Stream of consciousness where there really are not plot or huge drama but an ongoing revaleation of the characters thoughts and feelings. Going from one person to another and back and forth in time, all in a light flow.

I know this dicussion is about a year old but I simply could not help myself adding my understanding of the book so far, as I find the book to be nothing less than brilliant!

23Karlus
Redigeret: jun 27, 2008, 7:32 am

Ooops, I haven't looked in for some time and now see I have really been missing a great discussion! If anything, I love Mrs. Dalloway, book and character, more than ever.
The scene of Septimus helping Lucrezia with the hat does indeed have to be one of the great scenes in all of literature, I think perhaps because we can so easily empathize with the great love between them. Perhaps Virginia Woolf is telling us that that love is the way life should be, despite all hardship.
And, again perhaps, as Beatrice suggests, it is the unspoken background of experiences in the author's own life that has enabled her to write so brilliantly of people and relationships in relatively few words, by showing genuine life without having to explain it in detail. It may be that our shared humanity, in both factual experience and in human emotion, is the common background upon which Virginia Woolf relies as she paints the vivid foreground that so captivates us.

24margad
Redigeret: jun 27, 2008, 9:33 pm

Thank you, Beatrice and Karlus, for reviving this far-from-moribund discussion. It's startling how fast time passes - I hadn't realized this group was a year old!

I, too, was puzzled by the seeming lack of connection between Clarissa's story and the story of Septimus and Lucrezia. I think you've put your finger on the connection, Beatrice, with the insight about how much these two characters contrast with each other. Woolf titled the book Mrs. Dalloway and began and ended with the character of Clarissa, so we know she meant for her to be the central character. And yet I feel like the story of Septimus and Lucrezia has much more energy and emotion in it. Knowing that Woolf did, in the end, commit suicide herself gives it more poignance. I wonder if she was struggling with that question as she wrote the novel, and came down on the side of life in the novel because she was trying hard to do so - and yet couldn't quite believe in Clarissa's decision to the extent that she did in Septimus'.

Lucrezia's story is so touching, because it's clear she loves Septimus, and she comes very close to saving him.

25milprad
maj 27, 2009, 12:50 am

i read a room of one's own a while back and am thinking of getting a copy for my mom.
three guineas has been on my next-woolf-list since then