Sunday, 10 March 2013

Everything in the world exists in order to end up as a book - Stéphane Mallarmé

I’m starting to feel the need to run again. Not far. Just a couple of kms. To expend all this energy I feel is trapped within me. 

This is a positive step. Progress. A year on and I want to get back on track, as it were. Although I'm still a tad nervous and anxious. Somewhat normal, methinks. In view of the fact that the last time I ran, I ended up in hospital. 

But yesterday I saw an ad for a 5k/10k run. And felt the need. The need for speed. Or a gentle jog, at least. I have only ever run a 10k race once. I collapsed at the end and was very poorly for a few hours afterwards. Which kind of killed the achievement of finishing. And in a fairly decent time too. 

Maybe I should take the hint... But I can be a stubborn ole bird. That said, today I can’t think of that race without feeling bad. Really bad. Similar to how I felt about To the Lighthouse many moons ago. When I finally finished it. And hated it. I fear this is what I will feel about Mrs Dalloway from now on. 

Closing the book finally this morning, I felt kind of empty. Disappointed. Unfulfilled. I did finish it. Which is something. But I pulled and dragged myself through. And collapsed in a heap at the end. So the achievement was most unsatisfactory.

I just didn’t get it. I feel like I’ve let myself down. How does one not like Virginia Woolf? It feels like a failing. Have I missed something? My neurologist says that I appear to be slower than most. Referring to my recovery, of course. But maybe his words cut closer to the bone than I imagined?

For me, VW's sentence structure felt stilted and jarred. Commas everywhere.  Clauses falling over one another and backing up. Nothing flowing. Progressing. No direction. Destination.

Then the characters. Well, they generally felt stilted and jarred too. They left me cold. Their self-possession. Superficiality. Clinging to a past well parted, but much regretted. Although outwardly appearing satisfied with their lot.

Such self indulgence. Such egotism. The well-to-do busying about their vanities. Perceiving the world from a safe distance on high. Alluding to issues and calamities in a world far from their existence. Issues and calamities easily swept away in the folds of green satin and lace of a party. Even suicide is just an unpleasant intrusion to all the beauty and grandeur of the evening.

And thus my uneasy relationship with VW remains, well, uneasy. But onwards and upwards. I feel almost eager to get to Kafka now. To try something new. To be energised. Although much can change in the space of a few days…
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12 comments:

  1. Anonymous11 March 2013 at 00:44

    I like the way you share about books! I plan to read Mrs. Dalloway later this year. I haven't read any stream of conscious writing before so I'm wondering if I will feel the same way you do when I finish. I' m sure it will be an experience though. :)

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    1. a barmy bookworm11 March 2013 at 13:55

      I do hope that I haven't put you off... I've read writing in streams of consciousness before, but this just irked. I'm looking forward to hearing what you think. It is an experience. And the fact that it was not a good one for me, does not mean that it was bad! :0)

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    2. Anonymous12 March 2013 at 05:01

      No, not at all...I still want to read it just to see how I like it. :)

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  2. Anonymous11 March 2013 at 03:29

    That was suppose to be stream of consciousness writing. I hate when I do that. :)

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  3. Stefanie11 March 2013 at 19:25

    Sorry you didn't get on with Mrs. Dalloway. My experience of it is completely different than yours, but that's what makes books so interesting. Have fun with Kafka!

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    1. a barmy bookworm11 March 2013 at 19:31

      Hey there, Stefanie! You're right. That's what makes books so interesting. Frustrating, but so interesting! :0)

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  4. hopeinbrazil17 March 2013 at 00:44

    I like your honesty! I sometimes wish I'd paid more attention in my literature classes so that I would get more out of these kinds of books.

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    1. a barmy bookworm18 March 2013 at 21:08

      Thanks for your comments, hopeinbrazil! I'm a believer in going with your gut on many things. Maybe those literature classes would have killed the honesty... :0)

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  5. Leti Del Mar18 March 2013 at 15:08

    I'm not fond of VW either. I think authors of her generation get a little too much credit because their style and what they had to say was so different than what was common. That doesn't mean contemporary audiences will relate. All the best with Kafka. I like him much more than VW :)

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    1. a barmy bookworm18 March 2013 at 21:10

      Thanks, LDM. You reassure me that I'm not the only one re VW. And am loving Kafka thus far. :0)

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  6. MJ24 March 2013 at 23:50

    I read "Orlando" for Modern March, and really liked it. Of course, I also liked "Mrs. Dalloway," but I understand what you mean about the privileged people going about their pretty lives worrying about flowers. "Orlando" has some of that, but also deals with some weightier issues. Maybe try that one if and when you're ready to give Woolf another go?

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  7. Joseph23 September 2015 at 03:02

    I find it easy enough to not like VW. I'm actually starting to get used to stream of consciousness, but I dislike how duplicitous and self-centered all her characters are. You are not alone. My review: http://100greatestnovelsofalltimequest.blogspot.com/2015/09/mrs-dalloway-by-virginia-woolf-59-down.html

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