Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?

Proust again: One can only wish that a man with such powers of total recall had led a less tedious life, moved among somewhat livelier circles

Let's not omit Booth Tarkington from the list of list of eminent 20th Century writers! I know, I know, that his first novel (The Gentleman from Indiana) appeared in 1899, but that shouldn't disqualify him from the list...

larry richette- You wrote,


Then you ask members to have a lively debate on her merits. It sounds to me like you are setting people up. N'est-ce pas? I have an idea. Why don't YOU play devil's advocate, and let us know what you think ARE Woolf's merits!

Or, more to the point, Larry - what are your specific criticisms of her? Why do you believe her to be a lesser writer than the others you mention?

Is it theme, quality of writing, size of canvas - what?

I would also be interested in knowing some of your terms of discussion - since a debate about Woolf specifically seems to necessitate a discussion of what is great writing.

I downgrade Woolf because I think her work is narrow and lacking in richness of theme and psychological scope. Her grasp of language is admirable, but pales beside Joyce's. I think Woolf's greatest virtue is that she was able to portray the neurosis of her class, as in MRS DALLOWAY. Whether this is a great achievement is another matter. Compared to the depths Proust uncovered in the psychology of his characters, Woolf does not seem to go all that far.

Dlowan, if you are looking for MY definition of great writing, it is writing which has transcendent power--which is able to elevate me beyond my here and now and transport me to a completely different level of consciousness. Since we are talking about fiction, it should also have psychological depth and richness, dramatic vividness, and remarkable language. As Nabokov said, it must provoke aesthetic bliss.

It is not the writer's task to answer questions but to question answers. To be impertinent, insolent, and, if necessary, subversive.

I like that definition, Larry.

It seems necessarily subjective, though. What provokes aesthetic bliss in one person provokes an urge to vomit in another. Is there any objective "truth" as to which is truly great?

Literature is not a competition. I love literature and I love some sports, but I never confuse the two. I wonder why, Larry, you see artists as though they compete in some sort of competitive arena?

Larry, you certainly pursue literature on a far different level than do I, which will soon become apparent. I will not say that your approach is wrong, only that it is yours, and yours alone to enjoy. Many, including me, may agree with your well stated definition of good literature, still, when it comes to reading, each of us brings a whole different experience to the book.

To wit, some time back I happened upon a short personal essay by Virginia Woolf called "Street Haunting." I can give no accounting of why, but she led me into a haunting reverie, a dream like mood, as she moved along the streets of London at night. I'm not sure I have, or ever could, recreate that exact feeling.

I think of my first reading of Joyce's "The Dead." It brought me up short. It made me look at myself in the mirror, maybe a little like Dmitri seeing himself in the mirror in Chekhov's story. I had to take stock. It was an experience like no other.

I'm glad I read Woolf, and I'm glad I read Joyce. I am unconcerned about which of them is the more profound. I doubt Woolf could do what Joyce has done, nor could the reverse be true, for me.

On some elemental level, if I rank Joyce above Woolf in my hierarchy of literary personages, all I'v really said is that I like Joyce better than Woolf. This, it seems to me, would be true because my preference would be based on many personal and subjective experiences that are incapable of, or not worth, analysis. What counts is the experience I have when I do the reading.

You can talk about what gives you that experience, as can I, but I do not hear a booming voice out of heaven saying that all persons can only have a meaningful literary experience if the writer at hand meets a certain rigid set of universally accepted standards.

'Tis an interesting point you make Larry, re narrowness or otherwise. I have only read Mann, Kafka and Joyce of your examples, other than some Woolf.

I cannot imagine a narrower vision than Kafka's - taken in one sense - though there is an intensity and mythic quality in his writing that renders it fascinating and resonant.

Mann has certainly a broad vision - though rendered, I think, via essentially bourgeois characters - rather like Woolf's. Joyce - his writing is, indeed, very different from Woolf's - though his psychological exploration is via somewhat similar techniques - and his tendency is to have multiple focii of vision, and his class base is certainly broader.

In the end I must agree with Hazlitt - I wonder, is a wonderfully wrought and brilliant miniature always inferior to a larger work?


Your vision of what is great literature is certainly an interesting one - and I think the question is a fascinating one. I never want to say that it is entirely a subjective thing - and this is, I suppose, one of the functions of a literary tradition, to bring to bear on works the ongoing focus of many eyes, to sift and cull. I certainly wish to be able to condemn the mawkishly sentimental, the awkwardly expressed etc - I would be interested to hear more of your ideas about what constitutes transcendence in literature.

I guess I am just musing here.....thinking out loud...

Hazlitt - I must say that some of the writing of Woolf's that I most enjoy is from her essays, literary criticism and her diaries. There is a lovely lucidity to her thoughts and expression that I find enchanting. It is long since I have read her - but some of these stand out in my memory - particularly an essay she wrote on the art of writing - (cannot recall the name) - where she begins by discussing her reactions to a novel by a young author she has picked up, and where she discusses the work almost as a series of obstacles which must be negotiated by the writer, who she is cheering on. I picked up and read briefly from an edited editionof "A Writer's Diary" recently - and was again enchanted by her thoughts and their manner of expression.

D'Art: the metaphor of a competitve arena is your, not mine. Please avoid confusing your half-baked ideas with my half-baked ideas.

Dlowan: I thought I made my definition of transcendence clear already. But let me quote Joyce Carol Oates on the subject: "Art is a genuinely transcendental function--a means by which we rise out of limited, parochial states of mind."

In other words, the highest function of literature is spiritual. It must move us and elevate us out of our petty, egocentric concerns. (This is true for other art forms also, most notably music and visual art.) The transcendental function of literature is its highest value.

Re: Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?


Your words, Larry. If this isn't the language of competition, I'm not sure what is. As for Woolf as "the darling of the feminists and the lesbians," isn't this a denigration of those who admire her writing?

No, D'Art, that is not the language of competition. Who is competing in the sentences you quote? I was simply talking about RANKING, the fact that in my view Woolf is incorrectly ranked as a first-rate 20th century writer when compared with the modern masters I cited. I see you are still lurking in the alleys of A2K, switchblade at the ready, spoiling for a fight. How tiresome!

I stated that Woolf is the darling of the feminists and the lesbians to account for how she has been (mistakenly) elevated to the highest rank of 20th century writers. It didn't happen by accident. Clearly, I disagree with their assessment, but I am by no means saying that a) Woolf is a bad writer or b) all feminists and lesbians are dopes. What I am saying is, let's look at Woolf critically and see if she is really as good as her current reputation suggests.

I think she is.

If one is judging a work of literature, there is some kind of equation that deals with multiple factors. I'll say technical merit + emotional response, though that is simplistic. ("Technical merit" would contain many many subcategories.)

Technical merit is the more objective part -- emotional response the more subjective part. I love to come across a book that articulates the inchoate, that makes me think, "Yes, that is exactly it!" Virginia Woolf is, to my mind, technically gorgeous, but what really makes her stand apart is how she captured the thought processes of women in a way that hadn't been before, and in a way that remains remarkably vital and fresh. (I like Wharton as well, for example, but find her work more dated.)

It makes sense to me that men would feel less of that charge of their innermost workings being articulated on the page in Woolf, and more in Proust. For me, it is vice versa, though I enjoy both authors.

A couple of quotes:

In the end, there is no arguing with a subjective preference in literature. If I say that Woolf's women are all remarkably similar--because the only woman Virginia Woolf was interested in was Virginia Woolf--Sozobe will undoubtedly retort that I am misreading Woolf. If I say that there is nothing in her technique which is not done better by Joyce and Proust, I will be told that I am missing how "technically gorgeous" Woolf is. For me the best criticism of Woolf comes in a joke that E.M. Forster, her Bloomsbury chum, once said:"Virginia wants to write something which is as much as possible like a novel but which is still definitely not a novel." Exactly right, and that is the source of my dissatisfaction with her.

No, go ahead with specific technical complaints. Happy to examine them.

For one, I agree that self-examination was the core of her writing.

What specific technique was done better by Proust or Joyce?

dlowan, I am a total novice at literary criticism, which is obvious to all, I am sure. For that reason, I don't mind sticking my neck out. If someone takes issue, it is no more than I expect. However, it occurs to me, after reading larry's definition of good literature (Which I like), that literary theory has a lot in common with theology. By that I mean that it may be pretty hard to find two people who agree on anything except those things that float on the surface. The deeper you go, the harder it is to find agreement. Thus, larrys definition, which seems so universally acceptable becomes a quagmire when each individual tries to apply it to a specific work. So, after a few hours of wrangling, crushed egos, soaring egos, and intellectual pretention, it all boils down to Dick likes Woolf and Jane does not.

Still, out of all this discussion, each of us developes some semblance of an aesthetic theory which is valid for himerself, and according to which he or she makes judgments. And we each justify those judgments in terms of our own aesthetic. So, I see no problem in disliking sentimentality as long as you can say why.

Sorry for the verbosity, this is all new to me, and, as you say, I'm just kind of wandering around.

I too like Woolf's essays.