Reviews

The Wise Virgins is a semi-autobiographical novel written whilst Leonard Woolf was on honeymoon with his new wife, Virginia Woolf. The character of Harry Davis relates to Leonard and Camilla Lawrence to Virginia. The novel is set around the romantic grapplings of an artist in his 20s: does he settle for the sweet and reliable girl next door (Gwen) or set his ambitions on Camilla, who hails from an intoxicatingly artistic family.

The novel juxtaposes Harry’s suburban life against the bohemian life of the Lawrences in Bloomsbury. The former disgusts him with its predictability and mundanity whilst the latter world of intellectual sparring, piles of dusty novels, and quick references to the artistic world, draws Harry like a starving man who at last spies sustenance.

Harry is well-read to a fault and much of the novel centres on his wry and scathing observations of the life he is on track for. Like many a precocious youth before him (a label I’m sure he would swiftly reject!), he shares his pessimistic intellectually snobbish views of the world with sweet young Gwen, lending her books by Dostoevsky and other authors concerned with the dark void of the soul.

Gwen, although not in the state of ennui that Harry is, is just bored enough with her life to be taken in by his morose charms. She gets caught up in his Byron- and Shelley-inspired dark diagnosis of life around them and decides that to pursue love and passion as well as to live for the journey, not the destination, strikes a noble path.

The Wise Virgins centres on love and sex in a world where you are taught to value the institution of marriage above all else. It also explores the differing freedoms of men and women at the turn of the last century, the value we place on culture and being cultured, and how Harry thinks the world perceives him as a Jew. I think its intention was to be a mixture of a raw release of secrets and feelings on the part of Woolf as well as a way of laughing at some of the more ridiculous traits he displayed in his youth.

Some reviewers have mentioned finding the character of Harry to be too cruel and too loathsome to be believable. I actually found that his mannerisms and overly-affected persona of a starved-soul reminded me of a few young men I met in my youth. This personality type was irritatingly prevalent in Cambridge, where I grew up, and many families there have some link to the university and the world of academia. The only necessary amendment being the addition of a Smiths t-shirt (the 80s were very much having a revival) and maybe a light wisp of eyeliner.

Whilst I wouldn’t cast myself as either the quietly artistic Camilla or the ‘uneducated’ girl-next-door Gwen, I did enjoy the parallels I saw with relationships in my own adolescence as well as the caustic satire on suburban life and familial expectations painted by Harry’s woeful assessment of those around him.

Persephone books are always a pleasure to read for both their aesthetic value and the wealth of wonderful storytelling they uncover and reprint. It’s also hard not to be always thinking of Virginia Woolf and the notoriously extreme impact this novel had on her when she read it.

Atmosphere: This is a novel to be read in a balmy summer garden with heady aroma of wisteria in the air. A glass of citrusy white wine would be a nice touch; but make sure the neighbours don’t see, or there might be talk.

I shared a photo and favourite quote on my Instagram @folklore_kit

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