A review by pikachihiro
Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf

4.0

Mrs. Dalloway is a strange-paced novel about Clarissa Dalloway hosting a party for her husband in post-WWI England. While I was skeptical to reading Mrs. Dalloway, I didn't realize that I would enjoy it so much. I had no idea that I would be reminded of so much, nor was I aware that her text would do so many strange and interesting things. However, before I get into all of that, let me begin by saying no, I was not aware that the novel was written in stream of consciousness when I first bought it. I haven't had a lot of experience reading stream of consciousness—virtually none in fact (okay, one short story and one book)—yet from the way critics/mentors/etc. have spoken of Mrs. Dalloway, I had no idea what I was in for; I had merely assumed that it was written in the typical first or third person narration—that is until we started talking about it in my British lit. class; hence, the aforementioned skepticism. My skepticism was justified, however, because it took quite a bit of time and adjustment for me to become used to Woolf's writing style and the collective consciousness/indirect discourse of the narrator/characters; in fact, I'm not entirely sure that I adapted to the style at all, but I'm sure that's somewhat normal when you're reading a new style of prose and are interrupted from that text every thirty minutes or so. That being said, there were a few exasperating moments where the text was so well written that my own mind began to wander, and I couldn't concentrate on the text. (Just as our minds can drift aimlessly, it seemed that text did at certain points as well.) However, this is where one of those “strange and interesting things” comes into play. When I first read through the novel, I didn't see these aimless meanderings as anything consequential—but they are! (And here you think, “Well, of course the author wouldn't write about details that weren't significant, Amy.” Oh! But here's the thing:) This is stream of consciousness. What does that mean, stream of consciousness? Do we always think of things that are significant? No. Our minds take us to so many places—but Mrs. Dalloway's mind—oh, now her mind takes you places that you didn't even know you were going. Small, boring details about gloves and cars all have their place in Mrs. Dalloway, and I commend Woolf on doing such an excellent job at concealing important facts in the mediocre details that exist in the making of her novel's framework. Every piece of information says something—about Clarissa's life, her relationships, or society (through those around her/speckled throughout the novel). Sure, maybe everything that you think plays some role in your life and says something about society, but does it really? Where I might attempt to write in stream of consciousness and do it well, I fall short—but Woolf excels. (I would probably write about a burger.) Seemingly inconsequential details that don't seem important and dull the senses end up revealing a fresco by the end of the novel. The colors seem randomly scattered on the crumbling wall, but when you take a step back—when you finish the novel—you see a quaint, yet breathtaking vision before you. So many colors fall into place and you see that the brown wasn't pointless, but served a purposed to create this vision. I certainly couldn't make the brown blend into the wall—of course, I don't have the practice that Woolf had. However, I think it would take multiple readings/a deeper understanding to appreciate the painting that was created, and this is where some of the problem with the novel lies. I didn't have the “ah-ha!” moment that forced me to see the beauty until it was pointed out to me that the novel only presents one day in her life. Sure, it's something that you notice, but it's not until you realize that it's only been one day that you can judge the novel more closely. You feel as if you know Clarissa, that you've seen into her regrets, her choices, her doubts, her apprehensions, but in recognizing that it's only been one day, you question whether you know her at all. Can you know anyone in just one day? Do you have the same thoughts each day? I know I probably have to read it a few more times to figure out how I feel about Clarissa, but the thought still blows me away.
A couple other things: 1) I can't believe how much I was reminded of one of my favorite films (Girl, Interrupted) by this book, and 2) I'm relatively depressed that the story didn't focus more on Septimus—but didn't it? I read/heard somewhere that Septimus is supposed to act as Clarissa's double, which is crazy interesting and satisfies me in strange ways. I guess I see a bit of Woolf in Septimus—this 'Does/Can anyone really understand what's going on with me?' question and the audacity he takes at the end, like 'This is how I'll be free' notion that I think Woolf struggled with. Of course, I was told that this was written early in her career, so she may not have felt some of these things to such an extent, but I think some of that must have been lingering beneath the surface. How else can you recognize something so well and be able to write about it? However, I'm not a literary critic, nor do I know to what extent some persons can write about experiences they may/may not have experienced, although through reading I think it's possible to be empathetic/understanding of things unknown to us.
Here are a few quotes from Girl, Interrupted that you might find interesting to think about after/during reading Mrs. Dalloway:

“Have you ever confused a dream with life? .. Or thought your train moving while sitting still?
Maybe I was just crazy. Maybe it was the 60's. Or maybe I was just a girl... interrupted.”

“'A guy I know was just drafted.' 'What's his name?' 'Toby' 'He's dead now.'”

“'You spoke clearly about it a second ago, but I think what you've gotta do is put it down. Put it away. Put it in your notebook, but get it out of yourself—away—so you can't curl up with it anymore.'”

“I'm free!”

I gave it four stars because I was able to connect with the text on a certain level—a personal level—that most texts don't do for me. I didn't give it a full five stars because there were a few moments when I found the text to meander and drift—I'm a “let's-plow-through/ohmigod-don't-stop/I-can-see-it-right-in-front-of-me” type of reader, and this didn't give me that sense of urgency that causes me to fly through books. However, I would absolutely recommend this book to anyone who's looking for a shift in perspective. It's not often when you find a book that can change you—that can teach you about yourself, so grab a copy and see where it takes you!