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Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do ... it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge ... In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again ... Lewis Carroll, 1832-1898, Alice in Wonderland |
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On Orlando and ... ?
Woolf's intention in writing this book is both obvious yet perplexing. While it is clear that she is writing with a certain intention, it isn't entirely clear to me what this intention is ... perhaps our different selves and our acknowledgement of them ... Nada
I am different every day of the week and each moment of the day, I am many people at once, as Virginia Woolf allows me to be. Most of me has had trouble wrapping my mind around this class, which will not stay stagnent in my mind, even some days when I want it to ... so much of what I'm taking from this class is the uselessness of most classification (Mayr would be horrified) ... Jessica
now, more than ever, I feel that Woolf wrote the book extremely intentionally ... Forgive me for the dopey analogy (I can't seem to find a better way to articulate this; curse lazy Sunday mornings), but the last half of the book felt like a convergence of many tributaries, the speed of the water accelerating and the stream growing as each branch joined up to the river, and then the final toll of midnight at the book's end was an enormous waterfall into the "pool" of eternal present ... Brittany
I'm trying to figure out how and why time functions as it does in Orlando, but I'm also wondering if there even is any logic or greater meaning to find. I vacillate between feeling that there is something deeper to understand, or that it's random (unconscious associations) and intentionally so ... Becky
I guess the ultimate love story was between the world and the mind, the love of a person trying so hard to find meaning, to disassemble the pre-fab meanings given them, to hear voices in nature, to make sense and not avoid the landmines of memory and revelation that come unwelcomely ... Eileen
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| What starts without a Word ought not to be expected to be ended by one | ||
One of the things that I always loved about Woolf was her ability--and I don't know if this is true for anyone else--to create a space of the mind, a space that I can mentally wander through without any sense of impatience because there's just so much there to think about ... Maria
On to ... other stories/styles?
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