Blog by Lee
I thought that by choosing To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf for my book club evening it would present a challenge to the group but I didn’t realise how much of a challenge it it would turn out to be. Disappointingly only two of us had read it and Megan was halfway through. Marty listened to an audio book version which we agreed in no way did justice to the writing, and as for those few others who attended, no one else had read it but most enjoyed the discussion with Melissa beamed in from Watson’s Bay by FaceTime. A techno first for our book club and done very successfully.
Others enjoyed the discussion and Marty commented that she thought that the best part was the title. I myself thoroughly enjoyed the book as a brilliant piece of stream of consciousness writing and found myself going back to reread passages and then having finished the book starting all over again and continuing to delight in Woolf’s writing and the thoughts and observations of her characters. It is a book which reflects the influences and personages of Woolf’s life and family and deserves to be read with a reference to her biography to fully appreciate her characters. It could almost be seen as a book without a narrative, it is the characters themselves that form the story not what happens, although some characters do eventually realise their trip to the lighthouse many years later.
To The Lighthouse has been listed as one of the one hundred greatest books of 20th century English literature and I would tend to agree. An early feminist work without the social criticism of later feminist works, but a gradual recognition of the poverty and appalling misogyny of male attitudes to women in society and academia which is still so relevant today.
From Litcharts.com:
Stream of consciousness is a style or technique of writing that tries to capture the natural flow of a character's extended thought process, often by incorporating sensory impressions, incomplete ideas, unusual syntax, and rough grammar.
Some additional key details about stream of consciousness:
Stream of consciousness writing is associated with the early 20th-century Modernist movement.
The term “stream of consciousness” originated in psychology before literary critics began using it to describe a narrative style that depicts how people think.
Stream of consciousness is used primarily in fiction and poetry, but the term has also been used to describe plays and films that attempt to visually represent a character's thoughts.
Understanding Stream of Consciousness
Stream of consciousness writing allows readers to “listen in” on a character's thoughts. The technique often involves the use of language in unconventional ways in an attempt to replicate the complicated pathways that thoughts take as they unfold and move through the mind. In short, it's the use of language to mimic the "streaming" nature of "conscious" thought (thus "stream of consciousness"). Stream of consciousness can be written in first person as well as the third person.
What Makes Stream of Consciousness Different?
Traditional prose writing is highly linear—one thing or idea follows after another in a more or less logical sequence, as in a line. Stream of consciousness is often non-linear in a few key ways that define the style: it makes use of unusual syntax and grammar, associative leaps, repetition, and plot structure.
Stream of consciousness also makes use of associative thought. In this style of writing, writers transition between ideas using loose connections that are often based on a character's personal experiences and memories. The idea is that this technique helps writers convey the experience of human thought more accurately than they could by using a series of ideas connected with clear, logical transitions. Associative thought can seem "random" as it leaps from one thing to the next, with the help of only ambiguous or seemingly nonexistent connections, even as it can also feel similar to the actual random leaps that are a part of people's everyday thoughts.
As an example, characters' thoughts are often presented to the reader in response to sensory impressions—fragmented observations describing what the character sees, hears, smells, feels, tastes, and so on.
From Melissa:
I have had a copy of this book on my shelf for many, many years, with a view to reading it. Of course I was attracted to the title, let alone the famed history of Woolf’s work, which I had never read. And I think I may have tried to dip in a couple of times in the past but it hadn’t held my attention or wasn’t right for the time. So when you set it for bookclub I was thrilled as I knew I would finally embrace the challenge.
When I commenced the book I was initially disappointed. I wondered how I could possibly wade through what felt like a thick swamp of density to be able to see anything beneath the murky waters. I pushed on, with the same resistance that water provides. It was the extraordinary the dinner party scene, Chapter 17, that suddenly provided an incredible vision of clarity for me. It was not unlike the experience of staring at a 3d picture which, after being bewildered for some time at the scrambled puzzle of it all, it suddenly becomes brilliantly comprehensible. Somehow then, I entered Woolfe’s world - and mind - and from thereon, thoroughly enjoyed and fully appreciated the rest of the journey.
I would personally describe the work as ‘tediously brilliant’. And Woolf as a tortured genius - and true feminist long before her time. Impossible to move through life with such an astute hyper-awareness of what everyone is thinking and feeling - simultaneously - (perfectly depicted the dinner party scene - which is like a camera moving, in slow motion, around the table with insight into everyone's secret perspective - especially the women's) and to live peacefully with that degree of sensitivity. It’s no wonder she put rocks in her pockets. Poor thing. So glad she was at least able to express it - express the way people experience simultaneous thought and feeling - and so cleverly - like no-one else I’ve ever read.
Ever so thankful to her (and you Lee) for the opportunity to read this work. Quite extraordinary. The middle part which depicts the house from the wind’s perspective (no less) is so cleverly experimental - and would be extremely difficult to make work - yet she did.
Some lines and passages are so extraordinary I had to reread them to believe them - like this poetic and metaphorical passage which seems to underline the whole essence of the book - from Ch 9 The Lighthouse - pg 204
[The sea without a stain on it, thought Lily Briscoe, still standing and looking out over the bay. The sea is stretched like silk across the bay. Distance had an extraordinary power; they had been swallowed up in it, she felt, they were gone for ever, they had become part of the nature of things. It was so calm; it was so quiet. The steamer itself had vanished but the great scroll of smoke still hung in the air and drooped like a flag mournfully in valediction.]
Overall, the book seems filled with the weight of melancholy, no heavier than that - of grief - yes - the drowning depths of grief. A ghost story - in the true and aching sense of the word ghost. There is such an emptiness in the sense of the missing person/s, the lost opportunities (to go to the lighthouse when they should’ve, could’ve…) and the sorrow of all things lonesome, unrealised, unrealisable, concluded or unfulfilled.
Thank you Lee, reading this bought a richness to my literary knowledge and experience and I’m so pleased it was you who inspired me to embrace this book.
I wish I could be there to celebrate this with you tonight.
Melissa
xo
Ps. The Penguin version has exceptionally helpful introductory notes and footnotes which I highly recommend. They were almost as interesting as the book, helping to explain the brackets and the simultaneous nature of the work and the process and purpose of its creation.
Our next meeting is on May 2 at Meredith's and our book choice is Hillbilly Elegy by JD Vance.
