Reviews
Schrijversdagboek: Een keuze uit het dagboek van Virginia Woolf, by Virginia Woolf, Leonard Woolf
nfoutty's review against another edition
5.0
Originally written for my newsletter The Cardigan Dispatch, tinyurl.com/cardigandispatch
My first quarantine read, A Writer’s Diary by Virginia Woolf, is probably the least-likely read for anyone on this list (it was my first time reading it in its entirety), but let me tell you that it is worth it, especially if you are despondent about not doing enough during quarantine. You know who basically napped for six months straight? Virginia Woolf! You know who else found herself completely unable to work in the face of global catastrophe? Virginia Woolf!!! My favorite quote from her diaries is “arrange whatever pieces come your way” which I am debating stick-and-poke tattooing on my body (chill, Mom, I’m only kidding).
My first quarantine read, A Writer’s Diary by Virginia Woolf, is probably the least-likely read for anyone on this list (it was my first time reading it in its entirety), but let me tell you that it is worth it, especially if you are despondent about not doing enough during quarantine. You know who basically napped for six months straight? Virginia Woolf! You know who else found herself completely unable to work in the face of global catastrophe? Virginia Woolf!!! My favorite quote from her diaries is “arrange whatever pieces come your way” which I am debating stick-and-poke tattooing on my body (chill, Mom, I’m only kidding).
radioactve_piano's review against another edition
2.0
This is another case of buying the book for a college class, not being assigned anything from it, and feeling like I should actually read it since I paid for it. I thought I might like it better than I liked any of her actual writing (I'm normally a sucker for journal entries or letters), but alas. I found myself being annoyed at her constant "I'm thrilled with everything/I'm so depressed; I'm ecstatic at the positive reviews/crushed by the negative reviews/I don't care about reviews a whit; I can't write/I have been writing so easily and well/what is the point of writing". I understand the emotional pull of writing but felt really frustrated by her woe-is-me attitude. Perhaps I'm not sympathetic enough to have fully appreciated this book.
jparmley's review against another edition
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
4.0
This took me...4 months to get through. It's interesting seeing how much VW was in tune with her critics, and how they haunted her life. Maybe reading a diary is always a bit dry.
nikita27's review against another edition
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
relaxing
slow-paced
5.0
How am I to begin it? And what is it to be? I feel no great impulse; no fever; only a great pressure of difficulty. Why write it then? Why write at all? V writes this in one entry
Am I even capable of writing a review? trust me no one is, considering how deeply personal these extracts are to V; L who edited these made sure the image developed is rich, with ways and experiences which made Virginia who she was and is.
Flow of ideas that made into books and her self-criticism about her writing; how much she should re-write and revise to finalise book; how many copies shall each book sell; how her friends and family consider would think of all the work. We get a peak in her room after finishing her books how depression(as now it is generally considered she was suffering from bi-polar disorder) consumed her from within, how recovery was not so easy.
The last entry during the grotesque upheaval of the war and bomb raids around London and country leaves her to decide new occupations;
I insist upon spending this time to the best advantage. I will go down with my colours flying.
For someone who finds reading her books quite challenging (i coudn't finish Jacob's room and have only read A room of one's own) but loves V should read this.
Am I even capable of writing a review? trust me no one is, considering how deeply personal these extracts are to V; L who edited these made sure the image developed is rich, with ways and experiences which made Virginia who she was and is.
Flow of ideas that made into books and her self-criticism about her writing; how much she should re-write and revise to finalise book; how many copies shall each book sell; how her friends and family consider would think of all the work. We get a peak in her room after finishing her books how depression(as now it is generally considered she was suffering from bi-polar disorder) consumed her from within, how recovery was not so easy.
The last entry during the grotesque upheaval of the war and bomb raids around London and country leaves her to decide new occupations;
I insist upon spending this time to the best advantage. I will go down with my colours flying.
For someone who finds reading her books quite challenging (i coudn't finish Jacob's room and have only read A room of one's own) but loves V should read this.
eheslosz's review against another edition
5.0
Earlier this year I read the 'Selected Diaries' of Virginia Woolf, which were considerably more comprehensive but still selected and abridged. I am mildly infuriated by the fact that I have now read two different (occasionally overlapping) edited/abridged/selected versions of Virginia Woolf's diary, without knowing where the edits and omissions occur in either of them! The only passages I can be sure of are those quoted by Hermione Lee in her excellent biography (just finished). Lee even sticks to the original manuscripts' dodgy spelling and punctuation when Woolf is hectically writing her diary. One day I will read the full unedited five volumes of the diary, if I can get my hands on them. Because of these limitations I can't speak for the implications of Leonard Woolf's editing in 'A Writer's Diary'.
But enough of this mediation on editions! The book itself! Honestly, if you are not an academic or a strange VW obsessive like me, this is the book I would recommend if you want to read Virginia Woolf's diaries. Also, it is the book I would recommend – as well as '84, Charing Cross road' – if you are a bookworm and a nerd for writers talking about other books. There is something about Woolf using her diary as a procrastinatory writing space for complaining about her "proper" writing that makes it delicious to read. For example, on Saturday April 12th 1919, she writes, 'These ten minutes are stolen from 'Moll Flanders', which I failed to finish yesterday in accordance with my time sheet'. This quote amalgamates the reading and the procrastination elements quite nicely. For context, she was reading Defoe to write an article about him. Anyway all I have left to say is that if you can't enjoy Woolf's novels because they are too dense, too abstract, too "modernist", too difficult (I love them but fair enough), this is very different, and very readable. Not as much gossip as in the 'Selected Diaries', but still a decent amount, and more of the literary kind.
But enough of this mediation on editions! The book itself! Honestly, if you are not an academic or a strange VW obsessive like me, this is the book I would recommend if you want to read Virginia Woolf's diaries. Also, it is the book I would recommend – as well as '84, Charing Cross road' – if you are a bookworm and a nerd for writers talking about other books. There is something about Woolf using her diary as a procrastinatory writing space for complaining about her "proper" writing that makes it delicious to read. For example, on Saturday April 12th 1919, she writes, 'These ten minutes are stolen from 'Moll Flanders', which I failed to finish yesterday in accordance with my time sheet'. This quote amalgamates the reading and the procrastination elements quite nicely. For context, she was reading Defoe to write an article about him. Anyway all I have left to say is that if you can't enjoy Woolf's novels because they are too dense, too abstract, too "modernist", too difficult (I love them but fair enough), this is very different, and very readable. Not as much gossip as in the 'Selected Diaries', but still a decent amount, and more of the literary kind.