The caves, the daylight, the present moment, Mrs. Dalloway's flowers

August 4, 2017 6:32 AM

"I dig out beautiful caves behind my characters: I think that gives exactly what I want; humanity, humor, depth. The idea is that the caves shall connect and each come to daylight at the present moment," wrote Virginia Woolf in her diary, an insight that Carole Burns explores in her lovely personal essay for Literary Hub, "Rereading Mrs. Dalloway at the Same Age as Mrs. Dalloway."

Yet it is the image of Clarissa in that attic room that most haunts me. I wonder if every person—not just woman—fears the solitude that age can bring. It could be read as death, the narrow bed a coffin, but that would undercut the more complex idea that Woolf is teasing out: the aloneness amid a full life.

Because this “emptiness” arises despite the richly interwoven community of friends, shop owners, and acquaintances in which Clarissa Dalloway moves. It’s something I feel a longing for, which struck me with a fuller force in this most recent reading...My life has been scattered across the earth like sand, and I long to gather all the grains together and have them around me in one place, as Clarissa does at her party.

posted by MonkeyToes (9 comments total)

That's a wonderful essay, and this really resonated:

What I also see afresh about Mrs. Dalloway is that it’s about middle age, without the clichés. No sordid or un-sordid affairs (except maybe Peter’s, which figures); no 1920s equivalent of a racing car for Richard. Clarissa isn’t discovering a love for painting and boycotting her own parties. Instead, it’s people at the tipping point of their lives.

Exactly. The older I get, the more impatient I get with the clichés of literature. Give me something honest, well observed and well written. And nobody does it better than Woolf. I can never decide whether I prefer Mrs. Dalloway or To the Lighthouse (I wrote about the latter here if anyone wants a recommendation). Thanks for the post!
posted by languagehat at 7:06 AM on August 4, 2017 [5 favorites]

That was lovely. Maybe more so as I've just had a birthday and am approaching that age myself. Now I know what to re-read this weekend...
posted by Mchelly at 7:19 AM on August 4, 2017 [1 favorite]

When I was studying English Literature in my undergrad, the Modernists were my bread and butter. I always enjoyed this period of writing: stream of consciousness, imagism, futurism, fascism, so many -isms.

Joyce and Woolf were both taught to me at the same time and there was a nice balance between the two, in how they both approached that time period. Sadly, Mrs. Dalloway is the one novel of Woolf I've yet to pick up.

For anyone who is thinking of starting with Woolf, I'd suggest that her non-fiction works are a good place to start. A Room of One's Own or Three Guineas. These essays demonstrate how sharp and focused her mind was and the power of her writing. It's brutal, like a knife to the brain, it just cuts deep and it hurts a little.

Of her fiction works, The Years was the first novel of hers that I read. It looks at an entire family, a generation of brothers and sisters are the years progress from the 1830s to the 1930s. I cried a little bit at the end.

Flush is also her biography of her dog. She wrote an entire biography about her dog, written from the point of view of her dog, so maybe an autobiography, it's hard to shoehorn into a genre.

So yeah, Virginia Woolf is kind of amazing. I wish I had more to say about Mrs. Dalloway. I have picked it up and put it down several times. Not for lack of interest, but because I feel like I have to be in the right state of mind to read this kind of a work and I haven't found that place quite yet.
posted by Fizz at 8:11 AM on August 4, 2017 [2 favorites]

That was a lovely essay by the way. I forgot to mention that part. Thanks for sharing.
posted by Fizz at 8:12 AM on August 4, 2017

I've always loved Woolf. Even when I was too young to fully understand her writing, it had that rare power to transport and transform. Laying down Woolf's work after prolonged immersion is like awaking from a dream.

Mrs. Dalloway impressed my young self mightily, not least for the fate of poor Septimus. I last read it when The Hours was released in 2002. I'd forgotten Clarissa's age.

I turn 60 shortly. For my birthday I plan skydiving, swiming in the ocean and serious ziplining. One year ago I walked with a cane and did not dare to dream of any of those things. Hip deformity from birth meant steady deterioration until last fall's replacement.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that if Clarissa had gone skydiving she might not have been so moody and reflective.

But seriousy, nice essay. Much to ponder regarding age.
posted by kinnakeet at 9:45 AM on August 4, 2017

Ah, what a good essay for a great novel.
So much going on in the book, including an underrated WWI element.
posted by doctornemo at 10:13 AM on August 4, 2017

God, I love re-reading novels from my yoooot (youth). The most striking were:

The Tin Flute - Gabrielle Roy (When I read it in Grad 10 I had no sympathy for the main character... when I re-read it in my late 20s, it made so much more sense)

Madame Bovary - Gustav Flaubert (Read when I was 20, but re-read at 35 after being married for 5 years and it was practically a new novel and hearbreaking in a thousand ways)
posted by Dressed to Kill at 11:26 AM on August 4, 2017

Thanks for posting this. Makes me want to read the novel, especially since I will be coming up on that age pretty soon myself.

I have noticed in my re-reads of books that I have much more sympathy for the parents now than I used to.
posted by tuesdayschild at 1:06 PM on August 4, 2017

re-read at 35 after being married for 5 years and it was practically a new novel and hearbreaking in a thousand ways

Yes, interesting how certain aspects are revealed upon re-reading from a different place in life, isn't it? It's something I've been wondering about--the perfect age at which to read particular books, and which books are rich enough to speak to me across my lifetime.

This seems like the place to mention Larry McMurtry's novel, Duane's Depressed, in which a former oilman, now in spiritual distress, is prescribed Proust. I think it's the first time I'd run across bibliotherapy. I wonder: what is it I think I need when I pick up Mrs. Dalloway? Because it calls to me every few years and I read it differently each time. I reach for it and think, yes, this, right now...even if I can't or won't articulate to myself the why of it.
posted by MonkeyToes at 3:16 PM on August 4, 2017 [2 favorites]