And all the lives we ever livedshe murmured, sticking her needles into the stocking. And she opened the book and began reading here and there at random, and as she did so she felt she was climbing backwards, upwards, shoving her way up under petals that curved over her, so that she only knew this is white, or this is red. She did not know at first what the words meant at all.
and all the lives to be,
are full of trees and changing leaves,
I finally finished reading Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse. I loved the passage above - I think it is a wonderful way to articulate the processing of any kind of art or media that we find beautiful without perhaps even understanding why or what it means. It may even sum up how I feel about this book. Maybe.
The book is definitely a modern piece and, as I've implied above, I haven't quite digested it yet. Not because it's shocking or bizarre or overwhelming, but because it is very much the style of that period (It was published in the late 20s) so it is more about what the characters are thinking and their own subjective experiences than it is about a narrative. That being said, there is a plot and the writing is good. It's just the author isn't leading you down a path but rather presenting you with the insides of the characters' heads in about as organized a fashion as she can. It's a short novel and I think I may reread it next month. It reminds me in some ways of Willa Cather's The Professor's House in both the style and my own response to it.
Okay, that's all.
2 comments:
To the Lighthouse is one of my favorite books. I might just pick it up and read it again, too.
I would also suggest Mrs. Dalloway as another V. Woolf read. I took an entire English class on Virginia Woolf in college. She's pretty depressing, but I love her style.
oh perfect! I actually got Mrs. Dalloway when I was in England so it's on my to-read list. I may have to move it up on the list now!
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