To the Lighthouse – Virginia Woolf

Sadly, the Problem of Pain had to go back to the library. I suppose due dates are a good thing after all, but there should be exceptions for emergencies. What would be a literary emergency? You tell me.

Virginia Woolf then. Somehow I have managed to escape the stream of consciousness novels up until now in my high school and college classes. In the past, I’ve gotten some mixed reviews about this style of writing, but I thought I’d try it out for myself.

I wasn’t really sure what to expect. I was expecting a very disjointed conversation, so much so that trying to comprehend what was going on in the novel would be nearly impossible. While the story has been a bit hazy at times as Virginia switches from one perspective to another, I have still really enjoyed the experience. I won’t be reading stream of consciousness novel from now on by any means, but it has been a nice change of pace from the books that I am accustomed to reading. Up to this point in the book, I believe that Woolf has done an excellent job of accomplishing what she set out to do. We should evaluate her work based on her intentions, not in relation to all books.

The first thing that I noticed was that development of plot was not Woolf’s primary focus. Not a lot happens. I’m about halfway through the book, and only a day has passed. Mrs. Ramses, the matriarch of the homestead, has spent some time caring for her children, gone for a walk into town, talked with a couple of friends, talked with her husband and hosted a party. Yep. Not a lot happening.

Yet be not dismayed. There is a lot more going on that will capture your interest. The intention of Virginia Woolf is to model the thought processes of Mrs. Ramses and the other characters in the story. She fluidly slips from one character’s mind to another. It’s almost as if each person’s thoughts are a channel of water rushing before her. She carefully dips her hand into each one, capturing a few drops from each one.

The novel has prompted me to reflect on the way that my own thoughts slip, spin, stagger and stumble. Which is a more authentic way of telling a story? Is the traditional way of telling a story is an honest depiction of the human experience? Are our lives characterized by a distinct and direct flow of events? Would our thoughts be coherent to an outside observer? Are they even coherent to us?

Her language and metaphors are intoxicating. One of the most memorable passages describes the aching desire of Mr. Ramses to gain respect as a philosopher. We hear him develop his own theory about how the road to notoriety is one of A to Z. Some men spend their whole lives and never get past G. Only one man in a generation will reach Z. Mr. Ramses sees himself stuck on Q. He desperately wants to push forward to R, but is trapped by his own self doubt. He tells himself vocally that he will be able to reach R, while simultaneously admitting to himself inwardly that he has reached his peak and is already sinking back into obscurity. It is intensely painful to watch as this man finds himself trapped by his own mind. By using the familiar alphabet as her vehicle, she takes a very complex idea and turns it into an arrestingly beautiful conversation.

There’s a lot more I have to say about Virginia Woolf, but they’re almost done changing the oil in my car and I need to get on to other things. It will have to wait for later. Naturally, I’d expect that you won’t spoil the ending for me, but I would like to hear about your impressions of this and other books written in this style.

Cheers.