To The Lighthouse

[Dark Muse]

I have just finished reading this book, and interesting story, but there is one thing which has stuck within my mind that I remain uncertain about. I noticed that the colors red and brown seem to be used throughout the story, and there seems to be some significance and importance placed upon these two colors, and they are most often used paired together. But I have not been able to understand just what their meaning might be.

If anyone can offer any insight on the use of the colors in this story it would be much appreciated.

[Il Penseroso]

I've read this, not too long ago, but don't remember noticing that. Care to give some examples, and I'll see if I can come up with a theory?

[Dark Muse]

Sure, I do not remember off the top of my head the specifics, but I will go back over the book and post some quotes where it is used, when I get the chance.

[Virgil]

I read it last summer for the third time and I don't recall those colors either. We had it as a book club read. You look through the discussion here: http://www.online-literature.com/forums/showthread.php?t=26024&highlight=lighthouse. I think Quark and I disagreed a number of times. ;)

[Il Penseroso]

To be honest, I'm skeptical of interpretations based around repeated usages of colors, unless it is very explicit or tremendously meaningful. Colors are so undefined as substances (or such) and perhaps mostly just augment slightly what is elsewhere in the text.

That said, I am open to changing my mind, depending on the juiciness of this list.

[Dark Muse]

Well perhaps it does not mean anything, it just stuck out in my mind, how many times the colors seemed to reapear in the text.

But here are some passages where I have noticed use of the colors.

I will put the actual colors in bold particuarly in the longer passages.


The wheelbarrow, the lawnmower, the sound of popular trees, leaves whitening before rain, rooks cawing, brooms knocking, dresses rustling-all these were so coloured and distinguished in his mind that he had already his private code, his secret language, though he appeared the image of stark and uncompromising severity, with his high forehead and his fierce blue eyes, impeccably candid and pure, frowning slightly at the sight of human frailty, so that his mother, watching him guide the scissors neatly around the refrigerator, imagined him all red and ermine on the Bench or directing a stern and momentous enterprise in some crises of public affairs.


"But it may be fine-I expect it will be fine," said Mrs. Ramsay, making some little twist of the reddish-brown stocking she was knitting impatiently.


It was September after all, the middle of September, and past six in the evening. So off they strolled down the garden in the usual direction, past the tennis lawn, past the pampas grass, to that break in the thick hedge, guarded by red-hot pokers like brasiers of clear burning coal, between which the blue waters of the bay looked bluer than ever.


Knitting her reddish-brown hair stoking, with her head outlined absurdly by the gilt frame, the green shawl which she had tossed over the edge of the frame, and the authenticated masterpiece by Michael Angelo, Mrs. Ramsay smoothed out what had been harsh in her manner a moment before, raised his head and kissed her little boy on the forehead.


She stopped knitting; she held the long reddish-brown stocking dangling in her hands a moment.


These flowers seemed creditable, Mr. Ramsay said, lowering his gaze and noticing something red, something brown.Yes, but than these she had put in with her own hands, said Mrs. Ramsay. The question was, what happened if she sent the bulbs down; did Kenedy plant them? It was his incurable laziness; she added, moving on. If she stood over him all day long with a spade in her hand, he did sometimes do a stroke of work. So they strolled along, towards the red-hot pokers.


It must have happened then, thought Mrs. Ramsay; they are engaged. And for a moment she felt what she had never expected to feel again-jealousy. For her, her husband felt it too-Minta's glow; he liked these girls, these golden-reddish girls, with something flying, something a little wild and harum-scarum about them

Than near the very end, Lilly is sitting on the beach refelcting back:


"Mrs. Ramsay! Mrs. Ramsay!" she cried, feeling the old horror come back-to want and want and not to have. Could she inflict it still? And than, quietly as if she refrained, that to become part of ordinary experience, was on a level with the chair, with the table. Mrs. Ramsay-it was part of her perfect goodness-sat there quite simply, in the chair, flicked her needles to and fro, knitted her reddish-brown stoking, case her shadow on the step. There she sat.

[Virgil]

Well it seems to be the same one or two items that she keeps referring to, and so I was about to say so was it the colors or the items that keeping coming up. But this quote suggests to me that there is some sort of significance to the colors:


Quote:
These flowers seemed creditable, Mr. Ramsay said, lowering his gaze and noticing something red, something brown.Yes, but than these she had put in with her own hands, said Mrs. Ramsay. The question was, what happened if she sent the bulbs down; did Kenedy plant them? It was his incurable laziness; she added, moving on. If she stood over him all day long with a spade in her hand, he did sometimes do a stroke of work. So they strolled along, towards the red-hot pokers.
That doesn't suggest coincidence to me, but conscious meaning in some metaphoric/associative manner. I don't know what, but I think you may be on to something Dark Muse.

[Dark Muse]

Yes I could not help but to find those lines as being intentional and signifigcant in someway, particuarly sense the colors with the stockings are mentioned both at the beigning of the story, and than repeated at the end of the story. Still I cannot quite see what they mean though.

[blazeofglory]

The stream of consciousness is the main flow of writing.

[Tournesol]

Hi Virgil! I read the novel about 5 yrs ago while I was at uni, but I do recall very vividly what struck me most in the novel.

Soon after the start of the novel, there's a scene with Mrs Ramsey and one of the professor's students [this is while they were on the vacation]
She had gone into the village to buy some stuff, mail some letters etc, and he had insisted to tag along.
Anyway, on their way back to the cottage, Mrs Ramsey is holding a heavy bag, and the man persistently insists to hold it for her, and she kept saying that she could hold it just fine.
Then Woolf comments that Mrs Ramsey observed the man got very agitated because he was not allowed to carry the burden for the woman. Then Woolf caused Mrs Ramsey to allow the man to tote the bag for her, and he smiled, and Mrs Ramsey smiled within herself.
She realized that even though she had given him the heavy load, she had assisted him to lift the burden of a damaged ego, an easily damaged male ego.

I found this to be profound. I think Woolf was saying that as women, we sometimes have to allow the men to do things for us, so that their egos remain healthy.
[any comments on this comment is welcomed...lol]

[Dark Muse]

I found this to be profound. I think Woolf was saying that as women, we sometimes have to allow the men to do things for us, so that their egos remain healthy.
[any comments on this comment is welcomed...lol]

I am not entirely sure Woolf herself would support this idea. Mrs. Ramsay is acutally molded afte Woolf's mother, who herself was a more typical domestic woman. The ideal "Victorian Woman", and Virginia struggled and fought against those conventions.

Though Virgina did go on to get married, her marraige was a rather atypical one.

[Virgil]

Hi Virgil! I read the novel about 5 yrs ago while I was at uni, but I do recall very vividly what struck me most in the novel.

Soon after the start of the novel, there's a scene with Mrs Ramsey and one of the professor's students [this is while they were on the vacation]
She had gone into the village to buy some stuff, mail some letters etc, and he had insisted to tag along.
Anyway, on their way back to the cottage, Mrs Ramsey is holding a heavy bag, and the man persistently insists to hold it for her, and she kept saying that she could hold it just fine.
Then Woolf comments that Mrs Ramsey observed the man got very agitated because he was not allowed to carry the burden for the woman. Then Woolf caused Mrs Ramsey to allow the man to tote the bag for her, and he smiled, and Mrs Ramsey smiled within herself.
She realized that even though she had given him the heavy load, she had assisted him to lift the burden of a damaged ego, an easily damaged male ego.

I found this to be profound. I think Woolf was saying that as women, we sometimes have to allow the men to do things for us, so that their egos remain healthy.
[any comments on this comment is welcomed...lol]


I am not entirely sure Woolf herself would support this idea. Mrs. Ramsay is acutally molded afte Woolf's mother, who herself was a more typical domestic woman. The ideal "Victorian Woman", and Virginia struggled and fought against those conventions.

Though Virgina did go on to get married, her marraige was a rather atypical one.

I agree Tournesol that Mrs Ramsey does do that for man's egos, but if you look through the book she does similar, perhaps with a different slant, for women too. I find Mrs. Ramsey to be one of the great mother figures in all of literature. I think Woolf, however, is saying that men need their egos soothed (how sexist of Woolf ;) ). I think Dark Muse is probably right that I don't think Woolf agrees with women giving in and going out of their way to sooth men's egos at the expense of their self respect. I think we see that through the character of Lily.

[Dark Muse]

Yes the character of Lilly is more "Woolf" To the Lighthouse was ment to be a semi-autobigoraphal work, which was written to help Woolf get over her obcession with her mother, after her mother's death.

[opheliac]

It is very interesting to ponder on this further. I have actually been studying this particular book recently and also noticed the recurring colour references, epecially with the brown stocking in relation to Mrs Ramsay. She is effectively characterized as a highly domestic and family-orientated person, and her obvious preoccupation with knitting, associated with traditional women's work, is significant to those who know her. Early on in the novel, readers learn that she is working on the stocking with the intention of eventually giving it to the Lighthouse keeper's little son. Sadly, as Mr Ramsay restricts them from going on the much-anticipated visit, she is unable to give it to him. It is a lost opportunity and her death is the final nail in the coffin, but, nevertheless, the strong image of Mrs Ramsay and the brown stocking remains in the minds of other characters. In a section of Part III, Lily is still in grief over the loss of Mrs Ramsay and at one point suddenly gazes through a window where she sees a vision of her, though she has long since passed away. Take note of the following:

'Mrs Ramsay-it was part of her perfect goodness to Lily-sat there quite simply, in the chair, flicked her needles to and fro, knitted her reddish-brown stocking, cast her shadow on the step.'

This shows how Woolf's characters continue to be reminded of the past through their present experiences.

[Spanky]

The ideas that men have fragile egos; are easily threatened; are insecure, etc. are ubiquitous in feminist writings. I consider them to be cliche. I always know I am not going to get along with someone when they start talking about how 'threatened' men feel about this-or-that. It is not possible to prove that you don't have an emotion that someone has assigned to you (for instance feeling threatened) and I notice it is very popular to make those accusations against men.

Virginia Woolf's stereotypical male character has all of the above character traits and, as an archetype, is perhaps one of her greatest and most lasting legacies. The insecure male ego is a very popular representation among female readers, and viewers (that image is ubiquitous in other media as well). I find it tiring, and no better than some traditional male stereotypes of women.


Hi Virgil! I read the novel about 5 yrs ago while I was at uni, but I do recall very vividly what struck me most in the novel.

Soon after the start of the novel, there's a scene with Mrs Ramsey and one of the professor's students [this is while they were on the vacation]
She had gone into the village to buy some stuff, mail some letters etc, and he had insisted to tag along.
Anyway, on their way back to the cottage, Mrs Ramsey is holding a heavy bag, and the man persistently insists to hold it for her, and she kept saying that she could hold it just fine.
Then Woolf comments that Mrs Ramsey observed the man got very agitated because he was not allowed to carry the burden for the woman. Then Woolf caused Mrs Ramsey to allow the man to tote the bag for her, and he smiled, and Mrs Ramsey smiled within herself.
She realized that even though she had given him the heavy load, she had assisted him to lift the burden of a damaged ego, an easily damaged male ego.

I found this to be profound. I think Woolf was saying that as women, we sometimes have to allow the men to do things for us, so that their egos remain healthy.
[any comments on this comment is welcomed...lol]

[Madame X]

The ideas that men have fragile egos; are easily threatened; are insecure, etc. are ubiquitous in feminist writings. I consider them to be cliche. I always know I am not going to get along with someone when they start talking about how 'threatened' men feel about this-or-that. It is not possible to prove that you don't have an emotion that someone has assigned to you (for instance feeling threatened) and I notice it is very popular to make those accusations against men.

Virginia Woolf's stereotypical male character has all of the above character traits and, as an archetype, is perhaps one of her greatest and most lasting legacies. The insecure male ego is a very popular representation among female readers, and viewers (that image is ubiquitous in other media as well). I find it tiring, and no better than some traditional male stereotypes of women.

I’d rather say these cresting waves of insecurity are a staple amongst almost all of her characters, regardless of sex; I’d even go so far as to say that it is a great testimony to their utter humanness - of which male humans are certainly a part. :wink5:

[Spanky]

'Insecurity' and the need to be comforted by the opposite sex are staples of her female characters? :ladysman:Textually, I can't find that to be a valid. I am not sure that would hold up to any close reading, though I will read if you would like to give it a whirl.

[Madame X]

Comforted, certainly. Been a while since I’ve read any Woolf, but I am thinking of a particular scene in which Mrs. Ramsey is, inwardly, and quite desperately, imploring her husband to speak, no matter the topic, only to hear his voice and thus dispel some vague gloom that had been at that moment descending upon her. Hence, so it seems to me, they quite depend upon each other for no small measure of emotional comfort (not that they don’t get on each other’s nerves quite a bit as well though, so I suppose it balances out :cool:). Of course, you might well say, ‘but that is only one couple, one example, perhaps the exception, not the rule!’ and be quite justified at that…but, unfortunately, your interlocutor is too lazy to go off digging for specifics that don’t happen to be immediately at hand, hehe…although, if memory serves, I do think that Clarissa Dalloway and Peter Walsh have a similar dynamic…perhaps you disagree (your memory might be fresher besides :wink5:)? And if I might ask, how might these men, in your eyes, have been more adequately represented?

[Spanky]

Peter Walsh is represented as needy. Clarissa isn't, at least not in the sense of her primary relationship. Clarissa didn't marry Peter because he was "suffocating". Peter represents the romantic, chivalric ideal which she rejects in some of her essays where she champions androgyny over male romanticism. She preferred Richard Dalloway because he gave her her space. Richard, (we learned from the 'Voyage Out' her first novel) was kind of a scumbag, but suited Clarissa's needs a little better. Both of them pursued other sexual interests, Clarissa in a lesbian affair, and Richard, we can assume from his behavior in "The Voyage Out" screwed anything he could get. Peter, the hopleless romantic, spends his life heartbroken over her decision.

As to your question "how might these men, in your eyes, have been more adequately represented?" I think any author has a right to represent there characters in any way they choose, including Woolf, and in that sense she represented them according to her vision more than adequately.

Woolf inspired figures that our culture has been recycling for close to 100 years now: men are either jealous, threatened, needy, and insecure, or they are scuzzballs. Woolf is certainly not to blame for literary and cultural conditions that emerged after her, but she is to be admired creating the prototype of the ideal man as inhabiting a neat little box called androgyny: Rambo is out, certainly, but so are Keats and Shelly. What is left is a flat, dimensionless little creature who acts, in Mrs. Dalloway's case, as a financial support while not interfering with her other social interests, lesbian relationships, or any other inhibitions that might prevent her from doing just as she pleases.

[Madame X]

You might indeed find that type of lifestyle and the attitude it bespeaks to be hardly very gratifying, to say the least, and I couldn’t begrudge you that, but in what way does it speak contrary to, well, real life people/situations? Woolf certainly didn’t invent the concept of marrying for convenience’s sake (or the caricature of the jealous or needy male, aloof somewhat whimsical female, and so on, which are certainly aspects of the aforementioned characters’ personalities, and not totally insignificant ones at that for the simple fact that if the variability of the human psyche really were so very boundless, such esteemed sciences like psychology wouldn’t have a leg to stand on :biggrin5:) and it was my impression that Mrs. Dalloway herself, while she had some room to breathe in her marriage to Richard, was well aware of, and not without some regret, having sacrificed a more “kindred spirit”, if you will, in her rejection of Peter. All in all, I think the story itself, as well as the actions of the characters involved, is really pretty typical, and not just for our time…and yet, thanks to Woolf’s own stylistic interpolations, including her adeptness (although, I think you'd dissent :thumbsup:) at giving a credible voice to all of her characters, an entertaining read nonetheless.

But ok, I’ll ask a different question, in all curiosity; I don’t necessarily always read feminism into writers considered ‘feministic’, but in this ‘domain’, if you will, which author would you rather recommend, if anyone?

[Spanky]

Who I would recommend in this domain for realistic renderings? Tough question. George Eliot's rendering of Lydgate and Rosamond (in Middlemarch) is for me the most memorable description of a marriage in English literature. Joyce's rendering of Molly and Leopold Bloom's relationship is stunning. Madame Bovary's unsuccessful relationships to husband and lover are also incredibly rendered.

Psychology needs caricatures to have a leg to stand on? I'll have to think about that one. I don't hold psychology in very high esteem, though so I may not be the right person to comment on that. There are universals certainly -- the oedipus complex, etc...but I would hope psychology is able to go beyond patching together different elements of caricature in order to constitute man (or woman).

It's definitely an entertaining read. I didn't mean to suggest the book was not enjoyable. It is interesting to compare Austen to Woolf in her choice of Richard and her rejection of Peter. In Austen's novel 'Persuasion', Admiral Croft and his wife are presented as the perfect couple: they make all their decisions together, do everything together, and are in complete harmony with each others' lives. Neither tries to dominate the other one. I think that contrary to popular (and political) belief, this sort of relationship was surprisingly common in Regency and Victorian England. Women were enslaved in marriage? It is hard to believe that after reading about Rosamond Vincy in Middlemarch. Feminist readings of 'Persuasion' often point to the Crofts' as the perfect relationship. Woolf, of course, would view it as 'suffocating' and feminist readings of Woolf, as well as Wool'fs own writing, stress a need for women's 'space'. There are many ways the contradiction could be interpreted, of course, but one way is to point out that women complain of men being too distant in relationships and then turn around and say they need their space from suffocating men. (Well, which one is it? It can't be both.)

As for the characters being typical of our time, yes, I agree. My main contention is that a feminine hegemony have grown around Woolf's depiction of men. It has become a heavily guarded hegemony that few acknowledge and is ultimately quite negative. Caricature is a good word to describe the phenomenon and Woolf's contribution to the modern caricature of men is really quite remarkable.


You might indeed find that type of lifestyle and the attitude it bespeaks to be hardly very gratifying, to say the least, and I couldn’t begrudge you that, but in what way does it speak contrary to, well, real life people/situations? Woolf certainly didn’t invent the concept of marrying for convenience’s sake (or the caricature of the jealous or needy male, aloof somewhat whimsical female, and so on, which are certainly aspects of the aforementioned characters’ personalities, and not totally insignificant ones at that for the simple fact that if the variability of the human psyche really were so very boundless, such esteemed sciences like psychology wouldn’t have a leg to stand on :biggrin5:) and it was my impression that Mrs. Dalloway herself, while she had some room to breathe in her marriage to Richard, was well aware of, and not without some regret, having sacrificed a more “kindred spirit”, if you will, in her rejection of Peter. All in all, I think the story itself, as well as the actions of the characters involved, is really pretty typical, and not just for our time…and yet, thanks to Woolf’s own stylistic interpolations, including her adeptness (although, I think you'd dissent :thumbsup:) at giving a credible voice to all of her characters, an entertaining read nonetheless.

But ok, I’ll ask a different question, in all curiosity; I don’t necessarily always read feminism into writers considered ‘feministic’, but in this ‘domain’, if you will, which author would you rather recommend, if anyone?

[fb0252]

nice job on the comments! I thought Woolf's portrayal of the males in TTLH, which I just finished and will likely be my final Virginia Woolf, just about destroyed the book. There is in her thought process, it seems to me, so much twisting and fantasy with regard to the "male" person that there was a pall of incredulity over this book for me despite the decent if lazy writing. If Woolf carried these same male themes in her other novels I'd think this merely a lesbian perspective that possibly should be viewed in that context. There was certainly zero in TTLH in this sense that remotely compares to the brilliance of Middlemarch imho.