"For us, our house is not insentient matter—it has a heart, and a soul, and eyes to see us with; and approvals, and solicitudes, and deep sympathies; it is of us, and we are in its confidence, and live in its grace and in the peace of its benediction. We never come home from an absence that its face does not light up and speak out its eloquent welcome—and we can not enter it unmoved."
—Mark Twain, 1896
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Wednesday, December 21, 2011

FIVE STARS


I thoroughly enjoyed Mrs. Dalloway, mostly because the author insinuated her own self into some of the characters. If you are familiar with Virginia Woolf whilst she was in the glory of her Bloomsbury days of the early 1920s, she is easily discernible.


This was not an easy read by no stretch of the imagination. There is no breathing room. No page breaks between chapters because there are no chapters. The story begins on page 1 and ends on page 296 in one continual wave.
The story is about a day in the life of one woman, but to get to this day we must weave back and forth through 33 years. Enjoining all the diverse points of view of the many characters that eventually make-up Mrs. Dalloway’s day, we discover, in the most subtle of ways, how brilliant, perfect and delicious a writer Virginia Woolf was. 
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