At the very beginning of our class
discussions of Mrs. Dalloway, we discussed whether it was more or less
difficult to read than The Mezzanine. My first impression was that it was far
easier. Mrs. Dalloway flows in a way that The Mezzanine doesn’t; even though
the sentences in Mrs. Dalloway jump from one idea to the next confusingly, and
throw you into the story without giving you backstory, they seem less complex.
The absence of footnotes also makes Mrs. Dalloway flow better—although the
tangential footnotes in The Mezzanine are an important part of the book as a
whole, they do interrupt the story itself.
As I have continued to read Mrs.
Dalloway, I have found that it is more difficult to follow at some points than
I thought when I first began. The first few pages were easy compared to the
section on pages 55-57 about the solitary traveler. The passage begins with the nurse who Peter
Walsh sits by in the park: In her grey dress, her hands indefatigably yet
quietly, she seemed like the champion of the rights of sleepers, like one of
those spectral presences which rise in twilight in woods made of sky and
branches.” This part works for me. I can even see what Woolf means, so she is
succeeding in giving me a better idea of character. Woolf continues “The
solitary traveler, haunter of lanes, disturber of ferns, and devastator of
great hemlock plants, looking up, suddenly sees the giant figure at the end of
the ride.” Woolf drifts off into a lengthy an philosophical description of “the
solitary traveler”, and I am lost. This section is just as tangential as Baker’s
footnotes; it interrupts from the main story, but probably gives some in depth
examination of life, character, or plot that is difficult to understand. In a
way, Virginia Woolf’s story can be even more difficult to understand than Baker’s.
Nevertheless, I find that Woolf’s
story is much more enjoyable. I look forward to reading it, while pushing
through The Mezzanine was a struggle. Neither style of writing can be
considered easy to read. Mrs. Dalloway is in no way less philosophical than The
Mezzanine; if anything, it is more so. However, Woolf addresses character as if
she is providing you with little snapshots of people, and this makes all the
difference. Although it seems strange to liken a famous literary novel to a
tabloid magazine, the tiny descriptions of characters like Scrope Purvis, Mr.
Bowley, and Maisie Johnson are very similar to the photographs of stars going
about their daily lives that are found on the first few pages of magazines like
People and OK!. These magazines are not high literature, but they are
interesting (at least for a little while) because people like to know about
other people. We all like to know how
other people are doing in their lives, and most people like gossip. Virginia Woolf is onto something with her idea
that character is more important, and the snapshots of character that she
provides make Mrs. Dalloway far more interesting, despite the lack of action or
excitement.
Wow--this is the first time I've heard Woolf's style compared to People Magazine! I do see what you mean, though, and it nicely captures something in human nature that is simply curious about other people and how they live. Woolf taps into this in her essays on literary character (esp. "Mr. Bennett and Mrs. Brown"), where she describes her own compunction to fill out a "story" when she encounters interesting-looking strangers out in the world.
ReplyDeleteAnd I admit that I have pretty much nothing on the "solitary traveler" passage. (Note how it conspicuously didn't come up in class!) I can't tell if that's supposed to represent something of Peter's own sense of himself and sleep and what it means for a traveler like himself . . . or if it's "Woolf" stepping in and commenting while he dozes off? I enjoy most of the sections where we're with Peter, and I gain a lot of insight into him and Clarissa in these pages. But once he starts to get drowsy on that bench, I'm lost until the little girl bumps into Rezia's legs.