Mrs Dalloway (Oxford World’s Classics)
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Mrs Dalloway (Oxford World’s Classics) “Wealth makes many friends,
But the poor is separated from his friend.” — Proverbs 19:4 (NKJV)
Think of Mrs. Dalloway as being the anti-Ulysses (the James Joyce’s masterpiece). The concepts for the novels are similar, but the styles are polar opposites. I recommend becoming familiar with both works in order to appreciate the different ways that character studies can be developed during a day by relying extensively on thought life. Both are brilliant, but in much different ways.
Mrs. Dalloway is English, delicate, fussy, ornate, and feminine. Ulysses is Irish, crude, unrestrained, common, and masculine.
What stands out the most about Mrs. Dalloway are the many original descriptive sentences and phrases that look as though they went through 200 rewritings to be so polished and complete. Their expressions overwhelm the story at time because the reader is left gasping at a stunning turn of phrase or an idea. In writing, you can sit and admire and forget to read on.
A blessing of listening to the excellent reading by Virginia Leishman is that the brilliant writing is better integrated into the story by forcing you to keep going. I enjoyed the experience. I don’t want to discourage you from reading the book first, but I believe you will appreciate the overall craft more if you listen before reading. It’s the same advice I provide for William Faulkner’s books. There’s a beauty in the oral expression that is otherwise lost.
I found the story to feel a little dated. I also found myself not being terribly engaged by Mrs. Dalloway or her husband. That’s a pretty big problem to have when listening to or reading a novel. Someone today who wrote historical fiction about this period would do it differently.
Naturally, if I were only rating the marvelous ornate writing, this would be five stars. Most writers can only sit back in awe of such writing. On my best day, I wouldn’t be worthy of holding a candle for Virginia Woolf.
Enjoy!
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Mrs Dalloway (Oxford World’s Classics)
Overview
Mrs Dalloway (Oxford World’s Classics) ‘Fear no more the heat of the sun.’ Mrs Dalloway, Virginia Woolf’s fourth novel, offers the reader an impression of a single June day in London in 1923. Clarissa Dalloway, the wife of a Conservative member of parliament, is preparing to give an evening party, while the shell-shocked Septimus Warren Smith hears the birds in Regent’s Park chattering in Greek. There seems to be nothing, except perhaps London, to link Clarissa and Septimus. She is middle-aged and prosperous, with a sheltered happy life behind her; Smith is young, poor, and driven to hatred of himself and the whole human race. Yet both share a terror of existence, and sense the pull of death. The world of Mrs Dalloway is evoked in Woolf’s famous stream of consciousness style, in a lyrical and haunting language which has made this, from its publication in 1925, one of her most popular novels.
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Mrs Dalloway (Oxford World’s Classics) As Clarissa Dalloway walks through London on a fine June morning, a sky-writing plane captures her attention. Crowds stare upwards to decipher the message while the plane turns and loops, leaving off one letter, picking up another. Like the airplane’s swooping path, Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway follows Clarissa and those whose lives brush hers–from Peter Walsh, whom she spurned years ago, to her daughter Elizabeth, the girl’s angry teacher, Doris Kilman, and war-shocked Septimus Warren Smith, who is sinking into madness.
As Mrs. Dalloway prepares for the party she is giving that evening, a series of events intrudes on her composure. Her husband is invited, without her, to lunch with Lady Bruton (who, Clarissa notes anxiously, gives the most amusing luncheons). Meanwhile, Peter Walsh appears, recently from India, to criticize and confide in her. His sudden arrival evokes memories of a distant past, the choices she made then, and her wistful friendship with Sally Seton.
Woolf then explores the relationships between women and men, and between women, as Clarissa muses, “It was something central which permeated; something warm which broke up surfaces and rippled the cold contact of man and woman, or of women together…. Her relation in the old days with Sally Seton. Had not that, after all, been love?” While Clarissa is transported to past afternoons with Sally, and as she sits mending her green dress, Warren Smith catapults desperately into his delusions. Although his troubles form a tangent to Clarissa’s web, they undeniably touch it, and the strands connecting all these characters draw tighter as evening deepens. As she immerses us in each inner life, Virginia Woolf offers exquisite, painful images of the past bleeding into the present, of desire overwhelmed by society’s demands. –Joannie Kervran Stangeland

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