Monday 15 August 2011

Virginia Woolf

Synopsis: As the nephew of Virginia Woolf, Quentin Bell enjoyed an initimacy with his subject granted to few biographers. Originally published in two volumes in 1972, his acclaimed biography describes Virginia Woolf's family and childhood; her earliest writings; the formation of the Bloomsbury Group and her marriage to Leonard Woolf. Compelling, moving and entertaining, Quentin Bell's biography was awarded the James Tait Black Memorial Prize and the Duff Cooper Memorial Prize. It is a fitting tribute to a remarkable and complex woman, one of the greatest writers of the century.

Review: I was so thrilled when I found this biography of Virginia in a local junk shop that I didn't study it properly. I was more than half way through reading it (and I was thinking .. 'he's going to have to cover an awful lot of ground in the second half') when my suspicions were aroused and I took a good look at the cover ... nothing was printed on the front bar the title and the author but on the spine the dreaded words 1882-1912 appeared, meaning that this was the first book of a two volume publication .. oh fiddlesticks!!

It's really frustrating because the chances of me getting the second volume to match are slim, I will either have to buy the two volume set (just to read the second volume) or the more modern one volume publication .. unless I am lucky enough to find the second book when I go book rummaging in the future. It's all the more annoying because I enjoyed it so much and was looking forward to reading about her at her most interesting (I.e. her writing years.)

Anyhow, back to the book itself, Quentin .. who is Virginia's nephew .. writes with great frankness and wit. It's clear he knows his subject well and you feel as if you are getting an insiders view. He says, in the foreword, that Leonard persuaded him to attempt this biography and that in itself gives you confidence that he must have been deemed worthy of the job. He doesn't treat his subject with kid gloves though, the portrait he paints of Virginia is an honest one, she could be difficult, temperamental and snobbish but she was also shy, sensitive and incredibly loyal. His account of her childhood is fascinating, she was a natural storyteller ('words, when they came, were to be then, and the rest of her life, her chosen weapons',) and also a natural clown earning herself the lifelong nickname of 'goat' but her life was peppered with tragedies, insecurities and ill health which all had their adverse effect. One of her greatest good fortunes, I think, was marrying Leonard .. up until then the only man she could ever see herself marrying was Lytton Strachey and that, I imagine, would have been disastrous (not least because he was gay) but Leonard seemed the perfect mate for her (if any man could be.) This first volume leaves off just as Virginia, after much soul searching, has agreed to accept him, Quentin calls it the wisest decision of her life (though whether it was Leonard's is up for debate .. that is I'm debating it .. I'm not quoting the author here.)

I found the book really readable, Quentin has an engaging, confidential style that makes this biography more than just a recounting of people, dates and places. There's no doubt that it's a fascinating time in history and Virginia along with her family and friends must be among the most fascinating people of the age. They lived pretty unconventional lives and were deemed quite shocking, though it all seems quite tame to begin with .. mere tales of unchaperoned girls who refuse to dress for dinner. As the decade progressed though their behaviour grew more licentious and there are tales of Virginia swimming naked with Rupert Brooke and Vanessa having sex in public (though Quentin regards this as unlikely .. but then, he would .. it's his mother!) But it's not all scandal, it focuses every bit as much on Virginia's mind and imagination (which was 'furnished with an accelerator and no brakes') and her constant struggle against mental illness. There are some great recollections and anecdotes such as this exchange which took place in a lodging house in Cornwall (and credit must go to Quentin here who has furnished the tale with his own words.)

'What's the pudding?' asked Virginia.
'Mount St Michael's Pudding, Miss.'
Virginia's imagination took fire; she saw how it would be and seeing could not but describe her vision. Her exact words are lost; but there was something about a soaring convexity of chocolate surmounted by a castle of dazzling sugar, battlemented, crenellated, machicolated, crowned with banners of crystallized angelica and at it's feet a turbulent ocean of lucent jelly, flecked with creamy foam and graced by heaven knows what sweetmeats fashioned to resemble vessels, mermaids, dolphins, nereids .... For Virginia's relations the chief interest in listening to this inventory lay in the face of the serving girl, who stood amazed by Virginia's eloquence and appalled by the knowledge that she would, in a few minutes, produce a steamed pudding, not unlike a sandcastle in shape and texture, parsimoniously adorned with a dab of strawberry jam.


I couldn't find a large enough picture of the book front but there were plenty of pictures of the painting which adorns the cover which is by Roger Fry so I used one of those instead. Even though I only read the one volume, I felt I understood her more and it made me feel bold enough to walk straight to the bookshelf and pluck down To the Lighthouse and begin upon it before I became rational again.

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