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reidob 's review for:
To the Lighthouse
by Virginia Woolf
Virginia Woolf is never less than fascinating. She has a fairly bleak perspective on life, famously so, but what strikes me as most significant in her work is the emotional honesty that never seems anything less than extraordinarily astute. In [b:Mrs. Dalloway|14942|Mrs. Dalloway|Virginia Woolf|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1319710256s/14942.jpg|841320] in particular, I found myself quite often nodding my head, acknowledging that, yes, that is precisely how one would feel in those circumstances and, oh, my, yes, humiliating as it is to admit it, I have thought just those thoughts about other people.
Using stream of consciousness to great effect, Woolf here tells the story of the Ramsay clan at their summer house at two different times about ten years apart. Along with Mr. and Mrs. Ramsay and their eight children, there are several guests inhabiting this space with them, creating a web of intersecting thoughts and feelings that are intricate, delicate, knowing and intuitive. Nothing much happens: they eat, they sleep, the go to the beach, they don't (then do) sail to the lighthouse, they paint, they knit, they read. But their inner lives are as lively as a hive of bees in full career; their hatreds, loves, charms, the mercurial nature of their feelings toward each other are writ as clearly and honestly as we could ask.
I must admit that the second half of the book (ten or so years later) felt more like an analysis of the first than a separate story. Of course, a big part of this come from the fact that the central character from the first book is missing from the second. In fact, much of the latter is commentary on this very fact and how that loss changes not only the relationships she had, but also how this missing piece warps the entire weave of how all these characters consider the others.
Though to my way of thinking a less successful evocation than Mrs. Dalloway, this is another truly great novel by one of the most unique voices to write in any era. I am only sorry it took me so long to get around to it.
Using stream of consciousness to great effect, Woolf here tells the story of the Ramsay clan at their summer house at two different times about ten years apart. Along with Mr. and Mrs. Ramsay and their eight children, there are several guests inhabiting this space with them, creating a web of intersecting thoughts and feelings that are intricate, delicate, knowing and intuitive. Nothing much happens: they eat, they sleep, the go to the beach, they don't (then do) sail to the lighthouse, they paint, they knit, they read. But their inner lives are as lively as a hive of bees in full career; their hatreds, loves, charms, the mercurial nature of their feelings toward each other are writ as clearly and honestly as we could ask.
I must admit that the second half of the book (ten or so years later) felt more like an analysis of the first than a separate story. Of course, a big part of this come from the fact that the central character from the first book is missing from the second. In fact, much of the latter is commentary on this very fact and how that loss changes not only the relationships she had, but also how this missing piece warps the entire weave of how all these characters consider the others.
Though to my way of thinking a less successful evocation than Mrs. Dalloway, this is another truly great novel by one of the most unique voices to write in any era. I am only sorry it took me so long to get around to it.