Summer '07 Reading: 'To The Lighthouse' by Virginia Woolf

[Virgil]

I'll reply to that later Jane, when I get to those scenes.

But first I want to point out two more things about Mrs. Ramsey and why I believe she is the center of the novel. After the dinner scene, Woolf emphasizes the power that Mrs. Ramsey posesses. Here Mrs. Ramsey is thinking as she goes upstairs:


Her world was changing: they were still. The event had given her a sense of movement. All must be in order. She must get that right and that right, she thought, insensibly approving of the dignity of the trees’ stillness, and now again of the superb upward rise (like the beak of a ship up a wave) of the elm branches as the wind raised them. For it was windy (she stood a moment to look out). It was windy, so that the leaves now and then brushed open a star, and the stars themselves seemed to be shaking and darting light and trying to flash out between the edges of the leaves. Yes, that was done then, accomplished; and as with all things done, became solemn. Now one thought of it, cleared of chatter and emotion, it seemed always to have been, only was shown now and so being shown, struck everything into stability. They would, she thought, going on again, however long they lived, come back to this night; this moon; this wind; this house: and to her too. It flattered her, where she was most susceptible of flattery, to think how, wound about in their hearts, however long they lived she would be woven; and this, and this, and this, she thought, going upstairs, laughing, but affectionately, at the sofa on the landing (her mother’s); at the rocking-chair (her father’s); at the map of the Hebrides. All that would be revived again in the lives of Paul and Minta; “the Rayleys”—she tried the new name over; and she felt, with her hand on the nursery door, that community of feeling with other people which emotion gives as if the walls of partition had become so thin that practically (the feeling was one of relief and happiness) it was all one stream, and chairs, tables, maps, were hers, were theirs, it did not matter whose, and Paul and Minta would carry it on when she was dead.
It was "accomplished" echoeing what Lily says when she finishes her painting. Actually the word "accomplish" runs through the novel in several instances. For any college students out there reading this, the significance of that word in this novel would make a great term paper. Look at these lines:

They would, she thought, going on again, however long they lived, come back to this night; this moon; this wind; this house: and to her too. It flattered her, where she was most susceptible of flattery, to think how, wound about in their hearts, however long they lived she would be woven; and this, and this, and this, she thought, going upstairs, laughing, but affectionately, at the sofa on the landing (her mother’s); at the rocking-chair (her father’s); at the map of the Hebrides. And then these:

All that would be revived again in the lives of Paul and Minta; “the Rayleys”—she tried the new name over; and she felt, with her hand on the nursery door, that community of feeling with other people which emotion gives...
"Wound in their hearts" and "that community of feeling," is what Mrs. Ramsey brings to people. She connects people to community, which is something Lily cannot do.

Now look at this fabulous scene where she puts James and Cam to bed and where that skull is nailed to the wall:

She turned the handle, firmly, lest it should squeak, and went in, pursing her lips slightly, as if to remind herself that she must not speak aloud. But directly she came in she saw, with annoyance, that the precaution was not needed. The children were not asleep. It was most annoying. Mildred should be more careful. There was James wide awake and Cam sitting bolt upright, and Mildred out of bed in her bare feet, and it was almost eleven and they were all talking. What was the matter? It was that horrid skull again. She had told Mildred to move it, but Mildred, of course, had forgotten, and now there was Cam wide awake, and James wide awake quarrelling when they ought to have been asleep hours ago. What had possessed Edward to send them this horrid skull? She had been so foolish as to let them nail it up there. It was nailed fast, Mildred said, and Cam couldn’t go to sleep with it in the room, and James screamed if she touched it.

Then Cam must go to sleep (it had great horns said Cam)—must go to sleep and dream of lovely bed by her side. She could see the horns, Cam said, all over the room. It was true. Wherever they put the light (and James could not sleep without a light) there was always a shadow somewhere.

“But think, Cam, it’s only an old pig,” said Mrs Ramsay, “a nice black pig like the pigs at the farm.” But Cam thought it was a horrid thing, branching at her all over the room.

“Well then,” said Mrs Ramsay, “we will cover it up,” and they all watched her go to the chest of drawers, and open the little drawers quickly one after another, and not seeing anything that would do, she quickly took her own shawl off and wound it round the skull, round and round and round, and then she came back to Cam and laid her head almost flat on the pillow beside Cam’s and said how lovely it looked now; how the fairies would love it; it was like a bird’s nest; it was like a beautiful mountain such as she had seen abroad, with valleys and flowers and bells ringing and birds singing and little goats and antelopes and... She could see the words echoing as she spoke them rhythmically in Cam’s mind, and Cam was repeating after her how it was like a mountain, a bird’s nest, a garden, and there were little antelopes, and her eyes were opening and shutting, and Mrs Ramsay went on speaking still more monotonously, and more rhythmically and more nonsensically, how she must shut her eyes and go to sleep and dream of mountains and valleys and stars falling and parrots and antelopes and gardens, and everything lovely, she said, raising her head very slowly and speaking more and more mechanically, until she sat upright and saw that Cam was asleep.

Now, she whispered, crossing over to his bed, James must go to sleep too, for see, she said, the boar’s skull was still there; they had not touched it; quite unhurt. He made sure that the skull was still there under the shawl. But he wanted to ask her something more. Would they go to the Lighthouse tomorrow?
Cam is afraid of the skull and James wants the skull on the wall. Here Mrs. Ramsey in a work of magic is able to square the circle, satisfy two seemingly incompatible desires. She does is with a moment of creative magic, a moment of artistry. And Woolf is fabulous with her own writing, the shawl and skull, both symbols of death, foreshadowing Mrs. Ramsey's passing.

[Quark]

But first I want to point out two more things about Mrs. Ramsey and why I believe she is the center of the novel. After the dinner scene, Woolf emphasizes the power that Mrs. Ramsey posesses. Here Mrs. Ramsey is thinking as she goes upstairs:

It was "accomplished" echoeing what Lily says when she finishes her painting. Actually the word "accomplish" runs through the novel in several instances. For any college students out there reading this, the significance of that word in this novel would make a great term paper. Look at these lines:
And then these:

"Wound in their hearts" and "that community of feeling," is what Mrs. Ramsey brings to people. She connects people to community, which is something Lily cannot do.

Now look at this fabulous scene where she puts James and Cam to bed and where that skull is nailed to the wall:

Cam is afraid of the skull and James wants the skull on the wall. Here Mrs. Ramsey in a work of magic is able to square the circle, satisfy two seemingly incompatible desires. She does is with a moment of creative magic, a moment of artistry. And Woolf is fabulous with her own writing, the shawl and skull, both symbols of death, foreshadowing Mrs. Ramsey's passing.

I quoted this section earlier in the discussion, but I don't think it shows Mrs. Ramsay as the important figure in the novel. In fact, once you read to the end, this section proves how ineffectual Mrs. Ramsay's accomplishments are. At this part of the story, Mrs. Ramsay believes that she can overcome deleterious nature by joining people together. Her most successful union of people is between her daughter and Paul Rayley. This is what she accomplishes. But, we know that later on this marriage will dissolve and leave both husband and wife unhappy. I don't think we can say that Mrs. Ramsay really achieved much by encouraging togetherness. We know that Mrs. Ramsay sincerely hopes that her charity and social skills will overcome mortality and change, but we also know that this isn't true. The Ramsay's end in loneliness and tragedy. We sympathize and feel compassion for the Ramsays, but I don't believe they're the most successful people in this story. Their ideas represent the exhausted Victorian age which was yielding to Modernism at the time. It's hard to believe that Mrs. Ramsay would achieve the most in this story.

[plainjane]

I quoted this section earlier in the discussion, but I don't think it shows Mrs. Ramsay as the important figure in the novel. In fact, once you read to the end, this section proves how ineffectual Mrs. Ramsay's accomplishments are. At this part of the story, Mrs. Ramsay believes that she can overcome deleterious nature by joining people together. Her most successful union of people is between her daughter and Paul Rayley. This is what she accomplishes. But, we know that later on this marriage will dissolve and leave both husband and wife unhappy. I don't think we can say that Mrs. Ramsay really achieved much by encouraging togetherness. We know that Mrs. Ramsay sincerely hopes that her charity and social skills will overcome mortality and change, but we also know that this isn't true. The Ramsay's end in loneliness and tragedy. We sympathize and feel compassion for the Ramsays, but I don't believe they're the most successful people in this story. Their ideas represent the exhausted Victorian age which was yielding to Modernism at the time. It's hard to believe that Mrs. Ramsay would achieve the most in this story.
That is mainly why I thought that while isolation is certainly a theme of the book, so is helplessness and hopelessness against what Woolf sees as Fate. People are going to live their lives as they will no matter how much interference by Mrs. Ramsay.

Really isn't Lily the "most successful"? After all she completes her goal.

[Virgil]

I quoted this section earlier in the discussion, but I don't think it shows Mrs. Ramsay as the important figure in the novel. In fact, once you read to the end, this section proves how ineffectual Mrs. Ramsay's accomplishments are. At this part of the story, Mrs. Ramsay believes that she can overcome deleterious nature by joining people together. Her most successful union of people is between her daughter and Paul Rayley. This is what she accomplishes. But, we know that later on this marriage will dissolve and leave both husband and wife unhappy. I don't think we can say that Mrs. Ramsay really achieved much by encouraging togetherness. We know that Mrs. Ramsay sincerely hopes that her charity and social skills will overcome mortality and change, but we also know that this isn't true. The Ramsay's end in loneliness and tragedy. We sympathize and feel compassion for the Ramsays, but I don't believe they're the most successful people in this story. Their ideas represent the exhausted Victorian age which was yielding to Modernism at the time. It's hard to believe that Mrs. Ramsay would achieve the most in this story.

But Quark, under this reading the first two thirds of the novel becomes a waste of time. You can't have a central character who is the pillar of the novel, where everything centers around her, where her consciousness is completely represented, and then let it all be a deemed as useless. Under that reading the structure of the novel would then be flawed. In the end, the character of Mrs Ramsey has to have significance or or it's no different than a surprise ending, where the author is essentially saying, "never mind."

[Quark]

But Quark, under this reading the first two thirds of the novel becomes a waste of time. You can't have a central character who is the pillar of the novel, where everything centers around her, where her consciousness is completely represented, and then let it all be a deemed as useless. Under that reading the structure of the novel would then be flawed. In the end, the character of Mrs Ramsey has to have significance or or it's no different than a surprise ending, where the author is essentially saying, "never mind."

Oh, I'm not saying that she isn't important, or that she isn't central. I'm just trying to show why she's important. People have argued that Mrs. Ramsay is important because she brings people together and connects with the deeper thoughts in the other characters. If this were true, that would be quite an accomplishment, and Mrs. Ramsay would be a heroic figure. I don't think this is true, though. Her efforts actually appear to be quite futile. Really, Mrs. Ramsay is important because she doesn't succeed. Much of this story is tragic, and Mrs. Ramsay's ineffectualness is extremely important in that tragedy. The Ramsay's are important to us because we can see ourselves in them. Hasn't everyone had some exposure to things like Mrs. Ramsay's altruism or Mr. Ramsay's intellectualism? I think the point of the tragedy is that these things aren't enough to overcome mortality and change. Ultimately, those who put their faith in these ideas will end up isolated.

Mrs. Ramsay is important to Lily because of artistic and social reasons. Lily desires the position Mrs. Ramsay has in many ways. Lily's life is somewhat drab; taking care of an ailing family member seems to be all the life she has outside of the Ramsays. For Lily, Mrs. Ramsay represents the busy social atmosphere and wealth that she has never had. Lily also wants the ease of expression that Mrs. Ramsay has. The Ramsays represent the kind of success Lily wishes she could achieve, but that isn't to say that Lily wants to live like the Ramsays--she just wants their level of social success. I've gone over why she's important to Mr. Ramsay before, but I can do so again. Mrs. Ramsay is important in other ways to people like Tansley or the children; but, in none of these perspectives on Mrs. Ramsay, is she successful at overcoming the main tragedy of this story.

[middleyears]

Hi.. It's been a while since I posted but I feel I must since now we are at the bitter end of the book..... When we see Lily with her painting on page 202, she sees a reflection of the lighthouse. She's percieving this to be Mrs Ramsey and she wants it to be Mrs Ramsey... On page 208 we see Lily becoming "one with" Mrs Ramsey at the same moment she wants to see Mr Ramsey and it's also at this moment that Carmichael says that the Ramseys have arrived at the lighthouse... At this same moment, Mr Ramsey compliments James which is huge because he is usually all about himself...
I think that the whole book culminates in this one scene.. Woolf's whole mystical vision which is a moment of whole or shared conscieneness is right in that moment... I felt she was showing that groups of people can actually have this shared moment... We are all capable of experiencing these moments through love of other people...
I don't know, just my opinion.............
Thanks for letting me share.... Have a good day................

[Virgil]

Oh, I'm not saying that she isn't important, or that she isn't central. I'm just trying to show why she's important. People have argued that Mrs. Ramsay is important because she brings people together and connects with the deeper thoughts in the other characters. If this were true, that would be quite an accomplishment, and Mrs. Ramsay would be a heroic figure. I don't think this is true, though. Her efforts actually appear to be quite futile.

Her efforts are transient, and heroic while they last. Her magic in soothing Cam by covering the skull with her shawl show that. Yes time and nature will always have the upper hand, but while they are together Mrs, Ramsey improves their lives. It is a struggle with life and she fights a heroic fight. And remains with the characters after her death.


Really, Mrs. Ramsay is important because she doesn't succeed. Much of this story is tragic, and Mrs. Ramsay's ineffectualness is extremely important in that tragedy. The Ramsay's are important to us because we can see ourselves in them. Hasn't everyone had some exposure to things like Mrs. Ramsay's altruism or Mr. Ramsay's intellectualism? I think the point of the tragedy is that these things aren't enough to overcome mortality and change. Ultimately, those who put their faith in these ideas will end up isolated.
I don't see structurally how this novel would work without without seeing Mrs Ramsey as easing the inherent isolation of the other characters. Put their faith in what? A painting? yes it's a tragedy. She's human and no human can win a fight with life. But the effort is paramout. In parallel, look at the efforts of Mrs McNabb as she puts the house together after nature has had its will with it.

[Quark]

I do not think she was that interested in Bankes in the end, he seemed dismissed from her mind.

Actually, in the third section she mentions Bankes one more time:


But William, she remembered, had listened to her with his wise child's eyes when she explained how it was not irreverence: how a light there needed a shadow there and so on. She did not intend to disparage a subject which, they agreed, Raphael had treated divinely. She was not cynical. Quite the contrary. Thanks to his scientific mind he understood—a proof of disinterested intelligence which had pleased her and comforted her enormously. One could talk of painting then seriously to a man. Indeed, his friendship had been one of the pleasures of her life. She loved William Bankes.

It's so typical of this novel that it would put such an important detail in an aside. That paragraph goes on for a full page, but the most important part is four words at the end. Those four words are one of the most genuine sentiments Lily ever gives voice to. Usually, Lily will say one thing but then quickly add a bunch of modifying and contradictory statements until we can't be sure what she believes. In this case, though, Lily's thoughts naturally lead to this conclusion and she doesn't try to take it back after it's said. I think Lily did feel something William Bankes. Did she not marry him to get the better of Mrs. Ramsay?


Yes, I agree - it was just an impression I got about how Lily was feeling about Mr. Ramsey. Somewhere she says she wants him. What did she mean by that? I will look up exact quote later. I don't think I got any sense of Bankes at all in the end. I did not think they had all that much connection to begin with. It seemed only to be in Mrs. Ramsey's mind and imagination that the two should ever marry. I never envisioned it for Lily, not with Bankes. And in the end Lily might only be entertaining the thought of domestic life as Mrs. Ramsey had it or think she could marry Mr. Ramsey and make things better. Women often do think this - that a second wife can go beyond what a first wife achieved. I think she is feeling this way and wondering how she could continue on in her footsteps, but develop more of a relationship, perhaps closer to Mr. Ramsey.

Lily is forced into Mrs. Ramsay's position with her husband at the end of the story. Mr. Ramsay is still looking for someone to give him the sympathy and flattery that apparently his battery runs on. Lily tries to fill the role, but she fails miserably. The best she can do to soothe Mr. Ramsay's ego is compliment his footwear. Her attempt to be Mr. Ramsay's wife replacement is comical at best partly because she isn't as good at it as Mrs. Ramsay was and partly because she doesn't respect Mr. Ramsay the way his wife did. Never, though, is Lily ever really in love Mr. Ramsay. In fact, she says she's incapable of the kind of romance that Mr. Ramsay would want.


Hi.. It's been a while since I posted but I feel I must since now we are at the bitter end of the book..... When we see Lily with her painting on page 202, she sees a reflection of the lighthouse. She's percieving this to be Mrs Ramsey and she wants it to be Mrs Ramsey... On page 208 we see Lily becoming "one with" Mrs Ramsey at the same moment she wants to see Mr Ramsey and it's also at this moment that Carmichael says that the Ramseys have arrived at the lighthouse... At this same moment, Mr Ramsey compliments James which is huge because he is usually all about himself...
I think that the whole book culminates in this one scene.. Woolf's whole mystical vision which is a moment of whole or shared conscieneness is right in that moment... I felt she was showing that groups of people can actually have this shared moment... We are all capable of experiencing these moments through love of other people...
I don't know, just my opinion.............
Thanks for letting me share.... Have a good day................

You're right to suggest that people make a connection at the end. Really, that might be the only positive, uplifting part of the ending. Cam and James become aware of their father's personal tragedy; and, on the shore, Lily finally realizes how to complete her painting which is an expression of her intimacy with Mrs. Ramsay. Does the book culminate in that moment of togetherness? That might be a little harder to prove.


Her efforts are transient, and heroic while they last. Her magic in soothing Cam by covering the skull with her shawl show that. Yes time and nature will always have the upper hand, but while they are together Mrs, Ramsey improves their lives. It is a struggle with life and she fights a heroic fight. And remains with the characters after her death.

I don't see structurally how this novel would work without without seeing Mrs Ramsey as easing the inherent isolation of the other characters. Put their faith in what? A painting? yes it's a tragedy. She's human and no human can win a fight with life. But the effort is paramout. In parallel, look at the efforts of Mrs McNabb as she puts the house together after nature has had its will with it.

I'm not going to say that the little courtesies that Mrs. Ramsay extends to her family are nothing. No, they're still rather touching. Yet, when we say something is heroic we have to prove that it somehow makes a difference in reference to the major themes. In a book like Moby Dick, for example, revenge and arrogance are major themes. Ahab is obviously important in that book because he's a supreme expression of arrogance and vengeful feelings, but he doesn't really accomplish anything besides the complete destruction of his ship. Ahab would have been heroic if he were able to forget about the whale and continue to live his life with his family. That would have been an act of heroism because he would have done the moral thing in relation to the themes of the novel. Ahab is still important, but not as the virtuous hero. Really, he's the opposite: he's the tragic hero. The tragic hero is important but fails because of human frailties which we can all relate to. This is more the light in which I see Mrs. Ramsay. That isn't to take away any of her importance. How could I argue that? Especially when there are passages like:


She, on the other hand, would be forced to give. Mrs. Ramsay had given. Giving, giving, giving, she had died--and had left all this. Really she was angry with Mrs. Ramsay. With the brush slightly trembling in her fingers she looked at the hedge, the step, the wall. It was all Mrs. Ramsay's doing. She was dead.

I just think that Mrs. Ramsay doesn't understand the main themes of the novel. One of the big ideas of To The Lighthouse is that the personal is more important than the societal, yet Mrs. Ramsay represses her inner emotions, doubts, and thoughts in favor of maintaining civility or flattering her husband. Another theme is the inadequacy of human relationships, yet Mrs. Ramsay believes that marriage will allow her to overcome mortality and change. She's still an important character, but she doesn't have any answers to the questions raised by the novel.

[Janine]

Actually, in the third section she mentions Bankes one more time:

Hi Quark, I am working up to my post in Chekov and came online to find the text to quote - got side-tracked again. I did post in Lawrence and later will post the last segment of the story. I was not sure if this thread had gone dead so I felt like checking up. I forgot I wanted to answer this post of yours I read several days ago. Good post, Quark, but not sure I agree on all points.


[Quote]It's so typical of this novel that it would put such an important detail in an aside. That paragraph goes on for a full page, but the most important part is four words at the end. Those four words are one of the most genuine sentiments Lily ever gives voice to. Usually, Lily will say one thing but then quickly add a bunch of modifying and contradictory statements until we can't be sure what she believes. In this case, though, Lily's thoughts naturally lead to this conclusion and she doesn't try to take it back after it's said. I think Lily did feel something William Bankes. Did she not marry him to get the better of Mrs. Ramsay?

Yes, it is typical since in the center section Woolf did something virtually unheard of in her day - she put the important events - the deaths - in brackets interspersed between the description of the decay the house has fallen into. I thought that was so interesting and inovative, a little odd, but stangely enough, when you read those, it really hits you, like in real life.

Why can't Lily be referring to Banks in a loving way but only as a friend? This is the way I took it. I've had many male friends I could easily say I love. I don't think she ever entertained thoughts of marrying William Bankes but maybe I am wrong. The statement prior to the last 4 words seems to indicate that he was her friend. She says that "Indeed, his friendship had been one of the pleasures of her life." I think I have felt that way about a true male friend, and never entertained thoughts of having a close physical relationship or marriage to them.



Lily is forced into Mrs. Ramsay's position with her husband at the end of the story. Mr. Ramsay is still looking for someone to give him the sympathy and flattery that apparently his battery runs on. Lily tries to fill the role, but she fails miserably. The best she can do to soothe Mr. Ramsay's ego is compliment his footwear. Her attempt to be Mr. Ramsay's wife replacement is comical at best partly because she isn't as good at it as Mrs. Ramsay was and partly because she doesn't respect Mr. Ramsay the way his wife did. Never, though, is Lily ever really in love Mr. Ramsay. In fact, she says she's incapable of the kind of romance that Mr. Ramsay would want.

I don't see that she is forced into any position. Lily is quite independent and has a mind of her own. If she feels something for Mr. Ramsey it is of her free will that it happens. I don't detect him being aggressive with her or any indication of her being forced into the position of wife. She does not need to marry the man to offer sympathy, even flattery. Yes, Lily cannot fill another woman's role as a replacement - no one effectively could take the place of Mrs. Ramsey - we are all individuals after all. She has a different style than Mrs. Ramsey. I don't think Lily is 'in love' with Mr. Ramsey either, and I don't think she would marry just for convenience or to sooth Mr. Ramsey, so that I am not really sure what will happen at the close of the story.


You're right to suggest that people make a connection at the end. Really, that might be the only positive, uplifting part of the ending. Cam and James become aware of their father's personal tragedy; and, on the shore, Lily finally realizes how to complete her painting which is an expression of her intimacy with Mrs. Ramsay. Does the book culminate in that moment of togetherness? That might be a little harder to prove.

Yes, even Lily does connect with Ramsey but not in a romantic fashion. Yes, this novel has not been too uplifting. In fact on my second reading I felt rather pulled down by it and depressed. It was odd but I had a hard time getting through it since I felt uneasy reading it when I needed something a bit more uplifting. The ending is only a glimmer of hope that the father and James will ever truly get along with each other. It is significant that Mr. Ramsey did compliment him and reach out finally to his son in this small way. Again I don't know if we can know the results of this connection or any others in the book. I think we can only surmise and quess and so each of us has to find our own closure to the story. I did not find closure in Mrs. Dalloway either. I think it is characteristic of Woolf's style. Again like in Lawrence short stories, it makes one thing on and on about the ending long after you come to the final words, not a bad thing really...books live on this way in our minds. It is good to contemplate sometimes.


I'm not going to say that the little courtesies that Mrs. Ramsay extends to her family are nothing. No, they're still rather touching. Yet, when we say something is heroic we have to prove that it somehow makes a difference in reference to the major themes. In a book like Moby Dick, for example, revenge and arrogance are major themes. Ahab is obviously important in that book because he's a supreme expression of arrogance and vengeful feelings, but he doesn't really accomplish anything besides the complete destruction of his ship. Ahab would have been heroic if he were able to forget about the whale and continue to live his life with his family. That would have been an act of heroism because he would have done the moral thing in relation to the themes of the novel. Ahab is still important, but not as the virtuous hero. Really, he's the opposite: he's the tragic hero. The tragic hero is important but fails because of human frailties which we can all relate to. This is more the light in which I see Mrs. Ramsay. That isn't to take away any of her importance. How could I argue that? Especially when there are passages like:

I don't see Mrs. Ramsey as heroic but I see her with an inner beauty and strength and also much human fraility - she is human and feels many emotions and hurts and yet she is persistent in her way of life and keeping peace within her family. She is just plain a good hearted woman in my eyes, but no woman is a saint.


I just think that Mrs. Ramsay doesn't understand the main themes of the novel. One of the big ideas of To The Lighthouse is that the personal is more important than the societal, yet Mrs. Ramsay represses her inner emotions, doubts, and thoughts in favor of maintaining civility or flattering her husband. Another theme is the inadequacy of human relationships, yet Mrs. Ramsay believes that marriage will allow her to overcome mortality and change. She's still an important character, but she doesn't have any answers to the questions raised by the novel.

Quark, how does she believe that marriage will alow her to overcome mortality and change? I did not understand your statement to this effect. She may be always thinking and questioning and coming up with no definitive answers to these 'eternal' questions, but then how many of us do have all the answers? Again, she is only human with human fears and repressions and doubts and frustrations, etc., and many emotions beneath/hidden perhaps.

[Walter]

I've been following this deep discussion of character with considerable interest. Now that we are to the end of the book, I'll ask a simple question that reflects an impression I have had.

Am I mistaken, or do I see a reflection and continuation of Mr. Ramsay in James, and, likewise, a reflection and continuation of Mrs. Ramsay in Cam, and the generations will repeat themsleves?

[Virgil]

I just think that Mrs. Ramsay doesn't understand the main themes of the novel. One of the big ideas of To The Lighthouse is that the personal is more important than the societal, yet Mrs. Ramsay represses her inner emotions, doubts, and thoughts in favor of maintaining civility or flattering her husband. Another theme is the inadequacy of human relationships, yet Mrs. Ramsay believes that marriage will allow her to overcome mortality and change. She's still an important character, but she doesn't have any answers to the questions raised by the novel.
I'm not sure how a character can or cannot understand the themes of the novel he/she is in, unless it were metafication. :D Mrs. Ramsey does survive in the hearts of those she touched and in her surviving children. In our struggle to overcome the power of nature to wipe out life, marriage and children are the means of fighting the destructing forces that Woolf sees nature as. I'll post right after this something on the middle section. But Mrs. R is portrayed as a fertility goddess. Here chapter 7 of the first part:

Mrs Ramsay, who had been sitting loosely, folding her son in her arm, braced herself, and, half turning, seemed to raise herself with an effort, and at once to pour erect into the air a rain of energy, a column of spray, looking at the same time animated and alive as if all her energies were being fused into force, burning and illuminating (quietly though she sat, taking up her stocking again), and into this delicious fecundity, this fountain and spray of life, the fatal sterility of the male plunged itself, like a beak of brass, barren and bare.
She is fecundity, the mother of eight children, the one who's energy opposes the forces of sterilty and destruction. Woolf portrays a domestic situation in the novel but she projects heroic efforts from little actions. I'm sorry to diagree but Mrs Ramsey is supposed to be understood as heroic.


I don't see Mrs. Ramsey as heroic but I see her with an inner beauty and strength and also much human fraility - she is human and feels many emotions and hurts and yet she is persistent in her way of life and keeping peace within her family. She is just plain a good hearted woman in my eyes, but no woman is a saint.

Quark, how does she believe that marriage will alow her to overcome mortality and change? I did not understand your statement to this effect. She may be always thinking and questioning and coming up with no definitive answers to these 'eternal' questions, but then how many of us do have all the answers? Again, she is only human with human fears and repressions and doubts and frustrations, etc., and many emotions beneath/hidden perhaps.
I think Janine I answered above the second part, and I think everything you list as her qualities are heroic.


Am I mistaken, or do I see a reflection and continuation of Mr. Ramsay in James, and, likewise, a reflection and continuation of Mrs. Ramsay in Cam, and the generations will repeat themsleves?
You are not mistaken. :)

[plainjane]

She is fecundity, the mother of eight children, the one who's energy opposes the forces of sterilty and destruction. Woolf portrays a domestic situation in the novel but she projects heroic efforts from little actions. I'm sorry to diagree but Mrs Ramsey is supposed to be understood as heroic.

Fecundity does not equal heroic. I know you mean all of the above, but I really do not agree. If anything I see futility in her actions. Not that it is her fault, it is only human. The very things she strives for, the various matings she champions especially...are not successful.
Maybe that is what Woolf in her own depressed state of mind was saying, no matter how we plan, no matter what machinations we finagle, if we try to force issues, or people into our mold of what we think they should be or do, we fail. The falling apart of the house, the inexorable sweeping of the lighthouse....all show this.

[Virgil]

I wanted to post something on the second part of the novel, called "Time Passes" before we go into the concluding section. Certainly we can see part II as a bridge from the first to the third, but it's more than that. It advances the theme of nature's power to destoy life and life's fight to combat destruction. It presents the central conflict within the novel, nature's forces versues human's struggle to survive.

The first part ends with the household going to bed.

So with the lamps all put out, the moon sunk, and a thin rain drumming on the roof a downpouring of immense darkness began. Nothing, it seemed, could survive the flood, the profusion of darkness which, creeping in at keyholes and crevices, stole round window blinds, came into bedrooms, swallowed up here a jug and basin, there a bowl of red and yellow dahlias, there the sharp edges and firm bulk of a chest of drawers. Not only was furniture confounded; there was scarcely anything left of body or mind by which one could say, “This is he” or “This is she.” Sometimes a hand was raised as if to clutch something or ward off something, or somebody groaned, or somebody laughed aloud as if sharing a joke with nothingness.

Nothing stirred in the drawing-room or in the dining-room or on the staircase. Only through the rusty hinges and swollen sea-moistened woodwork certain airs, detached from the body of the wind (the house was ramshackle after all) crept round corners and ventured indoors. Almost one might imagine them, as they entered the drawing-room questioning and wondering, toying with the flap of hanging wall-paper, asking, would it hang much longer, when would it fall? Then smoothly brushing the walls, they passed on musingly as if asking the red and yellow roses on the wall-paper whether they time at their disposal) the torn letters in the wastepaper basket, the flowers, the books, all of which were now open to them and asking, Were they allies? Were they enemies? How long would they endure?
First, what beautiful writing. Second, an open rhetorical question, from who's point of view is this being told? It's sort of a combination of omniscient and limited point of view. Strikes me as original. What we do see is the power of nature slowly taking over its domain, even down to the rust which breaks down the metal. But this goes on for more than a night:

But what after all is one night? A short space, especially when the darkness dims so soon, and so soon a bird sings, a **** crows, or a faint green quickens, like a turning leaf, in the hollow of the wave. Night, however, succeeds to night. The winter holds a pack of them in store and deals them equally, they darken. Some of them hold aloft clear planets, plates of brightness. The autumn trees, ravaged as they are, take on the flash of tattered flags kindling in the gloom of cool cathedral caves where gold letters on marble pages describe death in battle and how bones bleach and burn far away in Indian sands. The autumn trees gleam in the yellow moonlight, in the light of harvest moons, the light which mellows the energy of labour, and smooths the stubble, and brings the wave lapping blue to the shore.

It seemed now as if, touched by human penitence and all its toil, divine goodness had parted the curtain and displayed behind it, single, distinct, the hare erect; the wave falling; the boat rocking; which, did we deserve them, should be ours always. But alas, divine goodness, twitching the cord, draws the curtain; it does not please him; he covers his treasures in a drench of hail, and so breaks them, so confuses them that it seems impossible that their calm should ever return or that we should ever compose from their fragments a perfect whole or read in the littered pieces the clear words of truth. For our penitence deserves a glimpse only; our toil respite only.

The nights now are full of wind and destruction; the trees plunge and bend and their leaves fly helter skelter until the lawn is plastered with them and they lie packed in gutters and choke rain pipes and scatter damp paths. Also the sea tosses itself and breaks itself, and should any sleeper fancying that he might find on the beach an answer to his doubts, a sharer of his solitude, throw off his bedclothes and go down by himself to walk on the sand, no image with semblance of serving and divine promptitude comes readily to hand bringing the night to order and making the world reflect the compass of the soul. The hand dwindles in his hand; the voice bellows in his ear. Almost it would appear that it is useless in such confusion to ask the night those questions as to what, and why, and wherefore, which tempt the sleeper from his bed to seek an answer.
Two important points here. First the destruction alludes to, in scientific terms, entropy, the law of nature (2nd law of thermodynamics for those interested ;) I am an engineer you know) that states that nature evolves to chaos and disorder. I'm fairly confident that Woolf is specifically thinking of entropy. It was something discussed in her day and the dramatisation describes it perfectly, even the concept of rusting. From Merriam-Webster: entropy: "2 a : the degradation of the matter and energy in the universe to an ultimate state of inert uniformity b : a process of degradation or running down or a trend to disorder." Second, that middle paragraph I quoted lifts the conflict into a devine level. Entropy, the forces of destruction, is from God himself, and the human toil is Mrs. R's fight. (Remember this passage from chapter 10 of part I: "A sort of transaction went on between them, in which she was on one side, and life was on another, and she was always trying to get the better of it, as it was of her; and sometimes they parleyed (when she sat alone); there were, she remembered, great reconciliation scenes; but for the most part, oddly enough, she must admit that she felt this thing that she called life terrible, hostile, and quick to pounce on you if you gave it a chance.")

And so you can read on about the destruction of the house and the lives and the eleven years that pass. It is also interesting to see how Mrs. McNab, the housekeeper of sorts,relates to a imaginary Mrs. Ramsey during this time. But she is ultimately asked to prepare the house again, and the human effort to combat entropy, the destructive force of nature, is dramatised:

If the feather had fallen, if it had tipped the scale downwards, the whole house would have plunged to the depths to lie upon the sands of oblivion. But there was a force working; something not highly conscious; something that leered, something that lurched; something not inspired to go about its work with dignified ritual or solemn chanting. Mrs McNab groaned; Mrs Bast creaked. They were old; they were stiff; their legs ached. They came with their brooms and pails at last; they got to work. All of a sudden, would Mrs McNab see that the house was ready, one of the young ladies wrote: would she get this done; would she get that done; all in a hurry. They might be coming for the summer; had left everything to the last; expected to find things as they had left them. Slowly and painfully, with broom and pail, mopping, scouring, Mrs McNab, Mrs Bast, stayed the corruption and the rot; rescued from the pool of Time that was fast closing over them now a basin, now a cupboard; fetched up from oblivion all the Waverley novels and a tea-set one morning; in the afternoon restored to sun and air a brass fender and a set of steel fire-irons. George, Mrs Bast’s son, caught the rats, and cut the grass. They had the builders. Attended with the creaking of hinges and the screeching of bolts, the slamming and banging of damp-swollen woodwork, some rusty laborious birth seemed to be taking place, as the women, stooping, rising, groaning, singing, slapped and slammed, upstairs now, now down in the cellars. Oh, they said, the work!
Notice also follwing this how Mrs. McNab (she is a parallel figure to Mrs. Ramsey) also brings people together through tea and food and gossip, and unlike the all the other characters also has children. And so it is "finished," the human effort to combat entropy. Human effort is an organizing principle, the opposite of chaos.

At last, after days of labour within, of cutting and digging without, dusters were flicked from the windows, the windows were shut to, keys were turned all over the house; the front door was banged; it was finished.

And now as if the cleaning and the scrubbing and the scything and the mowing had drowned it there rose that half-heard melody, that intermittent music which the ear half catches but lets fall; a bark, a bleat; irregular, intermittent, yet somehow related; the hum of an insect, the tremor of cut grass, dissevered yet somehow belonging; the jar of a dorbeetle, the squeak of a wheel, loud, low, but mysteriously related; which the ear strains to bring together and is always on the verge of harmonising, but they are never quite heard, never fully harmonised, and at last, in the evening, one after another silence falls. With the sunset sharpness was lost, and like mist rising, quiet rose, quiet spread, the wind settled; loosely the world shook itself down to sleep, darkly here without a light to it, save what came green suffused through leaves, or pale on the white flowers in the bed by the window.
The phrase "it is finished" is quite significant to the novel, but I won't get into that now; hold it for the end. What's interesting is that second paragraph where I can't help but feel that Woolf is alluding to the spirit of Mrs. Ramsey, returned. "that intermittent music which the ear half catches but lets fall; a bark, a bleat; irregular, intermittent, yet somehow related; the hum of an insect, the tremor of cut grass, dissevered yet somehow belonging; the jar of a dorbeetle, the squeak of a wheel, loud, low, but mysteriously related" all suggests a spiritual interaction, and what spirit is around everyone but that of Mrs. Ramsey.


Fecundity does not equal heroic. I know you mean all of the above, but I really do not agree. If anything I see futility in her actions. Not that it is her fault, it is only human. The very things she strives for, the various matings she champions especially...are not successful.
Maybe that is what Woolf in her own depressed state of mind was saying, no matter how we plan, no matter what machinations we finagle, if we try to force issues, or people into our mold of what we think they should be or do, we fail. The falling apart of the house, the inexorable sweeping of the lighthouse....all show this.

So you think that Woolf is advocating we give up and commit suicide? You think she's advocating that no one procreate, no children be born, just go and paint our little pictures and let human life extinguish?

From M-W:
heroic

Main Entry: 1he·ro·ic
Pronunciation: hi-'rO-ik also her-'O- or hE-'rO-
Variant(s): also he·ro·ical /-i-k&l/
Function: adjective
1 : of, relating to, resembling, or suggesting heroes especially of antiquity
2 a : exhibiting or marked by courage and daring b : supremely noble or self-sacrificing
3 a : of impressive size, power, extent, or effect <heroic doses> <a heroic voice> b (1) : of great intensity : EXTREME, DRASTIC <heroic effort> (2) : of a kind that is likely only to be undertaken to save a life <heroic surgery>
4 : of, relating to, or constituting drama written during the Restoration in heroic couplets and concerned with a conflict between love and honor

I advocate that Mrs. Ramsey is marked by courage, supremely noble, and self-sacrificing. And yes fecundity is heroic in the battle against nature. Nature as portrayed here is the force that destroys life; fecundity is the means of creating life.

[plainjane]

So you think that Woolf is advocating we give up and commit suicide? You think she's advocating that no one procreate, no children be born, just go and paint our little pictures and let human life extinguish?

From M-W:
heroic

Main Entry: 1he·ro·ic
Pronunciation: hi-'rO-ik also her-'O- or hE-'rO-
Variant(s): also he·ro·ical /-i-k&l/
Function: adjective
1 : of, relating to, resembling, or suggesting heroes especially of antiquity
2 a : exhibiting or marked by courage and daring b : supremely noble or self-sacrificing
3 a : of impressive size, power, extent, or effect <heroic doses> <a heroic voice> b (1) : of great intensity : EXTREME, DRASTIC <heroic effort> (2) : of a kind that is likely only to be undertaken to save a life <heroic surgery>
4 : of, relating to, or constituting drama written during the Restoration in heroic couplets and concerned with a conflict between love and honor

I advocate that Mrs. Ramsey is marked by courage, supremely noble, and self-sacrificing. And yes fecundity is heroic in the battle against nature. Nature as portrayed here is the force that destroys life; fecundity is the means of creating life.


I reiterate, I do not find Mrs. Ramsay "heroic" in any shape, form, or manner.

You know I had not thought so much that Woolf was advocating suicide, but really -- perhaps in a very subterranean manner she was. How many times in her life did she actually try to commit suicide?

[Virgil]

I reiterate, I do not find Mrs. Ramsay "heroic" in any shape, form, or manner.



:lol: Ok I guess we disagree.


You know I had not thought so much that Woolf was advocating suicide, but really -- perhaps in a very subterranean manner she was. How many times in her life did she actually try to commit suicide?

No one in this novel commits suicide. The novel stands as it's own work. Mrs R touches the lives of every character in the novel. And she fights the impossible battle of life itself, and if you sum up all the religious references that run through the novel is fighting God himself against human injustices. Yes i call that heroic.

[Janine]

Wow, lots of action in this thread tonight. I briefly read some of the posts, but am watching a film presently, so I will answer some of this tomorrow. Glad to see a resurgence of interest in this thread.

[Quark]

Good post, Quark, but not sure I agree on all points.

Sigh. We never do.


Why can't Lily be referring to Banks in a loving way but only as a friend? This is the way I took it. I've had many male friends I could easily say I love. I don't think she ever entertained thoughts of marrying William Bankes but maybe I am wrong. The statement prior to the last 4 words seems to indicate that he was her friend. She says that "Indeed, his friendship had been one of the pleasures of her life." I think I have felt that way about a true male friend, and never entertained thoughts of having a close physical relationship or marriage to them.

You're right. There is room to interpret her love for William Bankes as close friendship. I think it's romantic, but there's nothing conclusive. It's another "how like this novel": we have an ambiguous relationship.


I don't see that she is forced into any position. Lily is quite independent and has a mind of her own. If she feels something for Mr. Ramsey it is of her free will that it happens. I don't detect him being aggressive with her or any indication of her being forced into the position of wife. She does not need to marry the man to offer sympathy, even flattery. Yes, Lily cannot fill another woman's role as a replacement - no one effectively could take the place of Mrs. Ramsey - we are all individuals after all. She has a different style than Mrs. Ramsey. I don't think Lily is 'in love' with Mr. Ramsey either, and I don't think she would marry just for convenience or to sooth Mr. Ramsey, so that I am not really sure what will happen at the close of the story.

I'll admit the word "forced" was a little strong. I didn't mean to suggest that Lily was coerced into coming back to the Ramsay household. I did mean to argue, though, that she was coerced into taking Mrs. Ramsay's place as the blanket which Mr. Ramsay can cry into. He does manipulate Lily--as he does to everyone around him--to give him the admiration and sympathy that he needs. Lily is independent still; she doesn't ever lose control of herself. She just has to appease Mr. Ramsay if she's going to live with their family.



I did not find closure in Mrs. Dalloway either.

You know I just bought a copy of that, so don't spoil it for me. As for the ending of this novel, I think I'll hold off commenting on that until I say something about the section section. I never posted anything on that while we were talking about it.


I don't see Mrs. Ramsey as heroic but I see her with an inner beauty and strength and also much human fraility - she is human and feels many emotions and hurts and yet she is persistent in her way of life and keeping peace within her family. She is just plain a good hearted woman in my eyes, but no woman is a saint.

This is my estimation of Mrs. Ramsay, too: likable--maybe even great in some ways--but not heroic in the literary sense or effectual in the context of the novel.


Quark, how does she believe that marriage will alow her to overcome mortality and change? I did not understand your statement to this effect. She may be always thinking and questioning and coming up with no definitive answers to these 'eternal' questions, but then how many of us do have all the answers? Again, she is only human with human fears and repressions and doubts and frustrations, etc., and many emotions beneath/hidden perhaps.

I posted something--pages and pages ago--where I put forward this idea, and no one really challenged it. I just thought I would let it float until it hit up against some skepticism. Now that it's bounced back to me I'll try to put something behind it. Hold on, actually. Let me repost my previous argument then we can go from there.

"I wonder, though, are there not also--at the beginning of the story--unsatisfied desires and goals that the mother is trying to live out through the kids? Look at her need to pair everyone up. I think we best see into this part of Mrs. Ramsay when she is thinking about Prue's marriage. She says, "Is it good, is it bad, is it right or wrong? Where are we all going to? and so on. So she righted herself after the shock of the event, and quite unconsciously and incongruously, used the branches of the elm trees outside to help her to stabilise her position. Her world was changing: they were still. The event had given her a sense of movement. All must be in order... It flattered her, where she was most susceptible of flattery, to think how, wound about in their hearts, however long they lived she would be woven; and this, and this, and this, she thought, going upstairs, laughing, but affectionately, at the sofa on the landing (her mother's); at the rocking-chair (her father's); at the map of the Hebrides. All that would be revived again in the lives of Paul and Minta. . . . It was all one stream, and chairs, tables, maps, were hers, were theirs . . . and Paul and Minta would carry it on when she was dead" (115). Now I ruthlessly butchered that quote to make it succinct, but I do think it shows the different importance Mrs. Ramsay is placing on her children--what she hopes they will carry on."


I'm not sure how a character can or cannot understand the themes of the novel he/she is in, unless it were metafication. :D

Why not? We said isolation was a theme of the novel, and then we said that James, Mrs. Ramsay, and Mr. Ramsay each understood that kind of isolation. In fact, they probably understand that theme better than we do considering we base our understanding of it on their feelings.


Mrs. Ramsey does survive in the hearts of those she touched and in her surviving children. In our struggle to overcome the power of nature to wipe out life, marriage and children are the means of fighting the destructing forces that Woolf sees nature as. I'll post right after this something on the middle section. But Mrs. R is portrayed as a fertility goddess. Here chapter 7 of the first part:

She is fecundity, the mother of eight children, the one who's energy opposes the forces of sterilty and destruction. Woolf portrays a domestic situation in the novel but she projects heroic efforts from little actions. I'm sorry to diagree but Mrs Ramsey is supposed to be understood as heroic.

Yeah, Mrs. Ramsay does go forth and multiply. In a sense, she does overcome death and change, but is that the sense that the novel means those words? I don't know if the Ramsays anxieties are tied to their own death. I think it has more to do with their fear that their intellectual and social ambitions might be thwarted. What makes Mr. Ramsay unhappy is the realization that he can't write another great work of philosophy. He might never reach Z. Mrs. Ramsay suffers a similar dissatisfaction when she realizes that he charity isn't enough to stop the world's suffering. She won't be able to elucidate the entire social problem. Both Mr. and Mrs. Ramsay have doubts about the importance of the work. Death and change both stand ready to claim all their greatest accomplishments. This is the mortality that they're afraid of.

The individual emotions of the characters--or as Lily describes them, "the very jar on the nerves, the thing itself before it has been made into anything"--do survive and bring the characters together. For example, we were talking about James and Mr. Ramsay's togetherness at the end of the novel. No social pleasantries prompt this closeness, it's caused by a communion of lonely feelings. They come together because they both understand that feeling of isolation in life. These feelings are what Lily is trying to represent. And, it's what Woolf is trying to represent. It's also what a lot of other Modernist try to represent. D.H. Lawrence referred to this same idea as "life" instead of "emotion", but the concepts are quite similar.



Two important points here. First the destruction alludes to, in scientific terms, entropy, the law of nature (2nd law of thermodynamics for those interested I am an engineer you know) that states that nature evolves to chaos and disorder. I'm fairly confident that Woolf is specifically thinking of entropy. It was something discussed in her day and the dramatisation describes it perfectly, even the concept of rusting. From Merriam-Webster: entropy: "2 a : the degradation of the matter and energy in the universe to an ultimate state of inert uniformity b : a process of degradation or running down or a trend to disorder." Second, that middle paragraph I quoted lifts the conflict into a devine level. Entropy, the forces of destruction, is from God himself, and the human toil is Mrs. R's fight. (Remember this passage from chapter 10 of part I: "A sort of transaction went on between them, in which she was on one side, and life was on another, and she was always trying to get the better of it, as it was of her; and sometimes they parleyed (when she sat alone); there were, she remembered, great reconciliation scenes; but for the most part, oddly enough, she must admit that she felt this thing that she called life terrible, hostile, and quick to pounce on you if you gave it a chance.")

And so you can read on about the destruction of the house and the lives and the eleven years that pass. It is also interesting to see how Mrs. McNab, the housekeeper of sorts,relates to a imaginary Mrs. Ramsey during this time. But she is ultimately asked to prepare the house again, and the human effort to combat entropy, the destructive force of nature, is dramatised:

I don't know. Isn't Entropy more of a post-modernist invention. We associate the literary concept of Entropy with people like Thomas Pynchon and William Gaddis. In JR, for example, there's a great discussion of it. We might be getting a little ahead of ourselves if we say that Woolf was arguing that Entropy destroyed the Ramsay house. I think Woolf was trying to show that human ambitions can be defeated by nature--not human order, if that makes sense. Look at Andrew's death: I don't think Entropy killed him. Most likely, Woolf was trying to show the death of Mr. Ramsay's intellectual desires. Andrew was the brightest of the Ramsay children and he had some philosophical inclination. Mr. Ramsay concluded that it was alright if he didn't reach Z so long as someone else did. Obviously, he looked to Andrew to complete that goal. Woolf kills him in WW I to show that ideals, ambitions all change--not because the universe tends to chaos.

Wow, that was exhausting. So many people posting so quickly. There were a couple of other posts that I meant to respond to, but it will have to wait until I can get some sleep.

[plainjane]

:lol: Ok I guess we disagree.



No one in this novel commits suicide. The novel stands as it's own work. Mrs R touches the lives of every character in the novel. And she fights the impossible battle of life itself, and if you sum up all the religious references that run through the novel is fighting God himself against human injustices. Yes i call that heroic.
You are the one that brought up suicide, I had not really connected that, but
Virginia Woolf committed suicide. If you think her frame of mind did not influence the characters, I don't know what did.

Mrs. Ramsay fights life just like everyone else on the planet, with some less success in my opinion.


:lol: Ok I guess we disagree.
No one in this novel commits suicide. The novel stands as it's own work. Mrs R touches the lives of every character in the novel. And she fights the impossible battle of life itself, and if you sum up all the religious references that run through the novel is fighting God himself against human injustices. Yes i call that heroic.
I do think Woolf thought little of life, and that is what comes through for me. She disposes of Mrs. Ramsay, Prue and Andrew practically in one felled swoop, the life giving characters of the story. The house goes to rack and ruin, figuratively dies over the 10 years of neglect. I wonder why 10 years, the War only lasted a little over 4 years, but I digress, the neglect of the house is perhaps part of death process of the family.
The ones that are left are either too old, too young, or not likely to reproduce [like Lily]. Death of a generation?

Woolf writes beautifully, and innovatively, no question about that. But her severe depression and sad outlook on life comes through in a blast in To The Lighthouse, and while I love Woolf's writing, in this book at least I feel her depression coming through in a blast.

You are right Virgil, there is no suicide in the book. But there is a dismissal of life that perhaps reflects Woolf's own.

[Quark]

I do think Woolf thought little of life, and that is what comes through for me. She disposes of Mrs. Ramsay, Prue and Andrew practically in one felled swoop, the life giving characters of the story. The house goes to rack and ruin, figuratively dies over the 10 years of neglect. I wonder why 10 years, the War only lasted a little over 4 years, but I digress, the neglect of the house is perhaps part of death process of the family.
The ones that are left are either too old, too young, or not likely to reproduce [like Lily]. Death of a generation?

Woolf writes beautifully, and innovatively, no question about that. But her severe depression and sad outlook on life comes through in a blast in To The Lighthouse, and while I love Woolf's writing, in this book at least I feel her depression coming through in a blast.

You are right Virgil, there is no suicide in the book. But there is a dismissal of life that perhaps reflects Woolf's own.

plainjane, I like the new avatar. I could never quite make out the old one.

As for suicide, I don't think you can use Andrew's and Mrs. Ramsay's deaths as evidence for Woolf's fondness for death. Those characters' deaths are lamentable, and the surviving characters feel sharp pain at that loss--so does the reader I think. I think Andrew and Mrs. Ramsay had to die--really, I'm not saying this maliciously--because a great part of the book is about the failure of what those characters represent. But, that doens't mean that the book embraces death as better than life. And, I don't think even the biographical information would support this argument since Virginia Woolf was reportedly happy at that point in her life. Her mental disease--as she would come to call it--took over her life much later; and, even though she did choose death, I don't think she would have suggested that to her audience.

I'm not saying that there isn't any evidence for suicidal feelings in To The Lighthouse. I'm just saying that the biographical and textual information you gave to support that claim were a little weak.

[plainjane]

Quark,
As far as I know Woolf suffered for the larger part of her life from her mental disease, that is not something that just hits like a bolt from the blue. The seeds and beginnings of it are there for many years, if not all of ones life.
The degree may and does vary but is ever present.

The very fact of all the failure you point out is evidence of a sad outlook of life.
It has been many months since I read TTLH, I can only give impressions at this point, and a hopeless and depressive feeling are what I took away from it.

I don't know I'd characterize Woolf as having a "fondness for death" as you put it, but she did have an aura of inevitability of disaster about her

:goof: Ratz... I hit the wrong button!

I meant to add that originally I'd posted....
But there is a dismissal of life that perhaps reflects Woolf's own. And I cannot back away from that.

[Walter]

I think I'll finally join in again, with a thought that this discussion has brought to mind. Quite some time back I said that the Ramsay's marriage sounded to me like an arranged marriage which had started out without love but which in material respects had turned out to be much better than Mrs. Ramsay might well have expected in the circumstances.

This discussion has brought to mind recollections, now many months old, of Mrs. Ramsay briefly musing about a happiness that might have been, and of the things her children might get to do in their lives differently than she in her own. (If I have both those things correct, and not in the wrong book :blush: ) In short I'm beginning to believe that, indeed, there is a sadness in the foundation under Mrs. Ramsay's life, and that she might be described as having received only half a cup of living, without the other half, of genuine happiness, added in. She has material comfort, two children she is content with, a social circle of friends, but an irascible husband who is mean to James and whom she watches warily for his moodiness. It would be too much to say she was imprisoned in her circumstance, but I think not to much too say that she was beleaguered by demands upon her and that she is doing her best to cope.

To move on to a second thought, I think the house only reinforces that 'down' feeling. Not only does the house in the second part beautifully and poetically show the passage and debilitating effects of time, but within the structure of the book it also has a second, negative effect; it completely blots out any narrative description of the ordinary events of life going forward. Principal characters die, marriages dissolve, but only in the merest of mentions in the background, as if those events were insignificant to the narrative. In effect, the War came and plopped a big blot down on people's ordinary lives and destroyed their life's best plans. The War was all consuming and those pages in the book might as well be represented by a big black blot when it comes to the narrative of the story. Only after ten years does life begin to recover, from exactly the kitchen where it left off, with Lily now having a cup of tea in old surroundings and trying to recapture the thread.

So, more so than I thought on first reading, I think there is considerable sadness in the book, with Mrs. Ramsay at the end (of Part I) still not having conquered it, but having gained only one more temporary victory before she dies.

On reread, I think I'll be looking at the book with a completely new eye.

[Quark]

I think I'll finally join in again, with a thought that this discussion has brought to mind. Quite some time back I said that the Ramsay's marriage sounded to me like an arranged marriage which had started out without love but which in material respects had turned out to be much better than Mrs. Ramsay might well have expected in the circumstances.

I think a lot of this reasoning was based off a misreading of the story. When we started talking about Mrs. Ramsay's relationship with her husband someone brought up the idea that Mrs. Ramsay had a previous lover. This other lover she felt passionately for, but the affair ended somehow in misfortune. Then, she marries Mr. Ramsay for wealth and comfort. She marries Mr. Ramsay because she has already experienced powerful love and doesn't need that from her husband. This argument might be true if it wasn't for the fact that Mrs. Ramsay didn't have a previous lover. I read back over the section that talks about Mrs. Ramsay history:


But was it nothing but looks, people said? What was there behind it—her beauty and splendour? Had he blown his brains out, they asked, had he died the week before they were married—some other, earlier lover, of whom rumours reached one? Or was there nothing? nothing but an incomparable beauty which she lived behind, and could do nothing to disturb? For easily though she might have said at some moment of intimacy when stories of great passion, of love foiled, of ambition thwarted came her way how she too had known or felt or been through it herself, she never spoke. She was silent always. She knew then—she knew without having learnt. Her simplicity fathomed what clever people falsified. Her singleness of mind made her drop plumb like a stone, alight exact as a bird, gave her, naturally, this swoop and fall of the spirit upon truth which delighted, eased, sustained—falsely perhaps.

Here, William Bankes is asking himself whether Mrs. Ramsay ever had a passionate relationship with a man that ended in disaster. He isn't saying that she did. The answer turns out to be no.

Perhaps this isn't how you reached your conclusion, but I remember someone arguing something like this.


This discussion has brought to mind recollections, now many months old, of Mrs. Ramsay briefly musing about a happiness that might have been, and of the things her children might get to do in their lives differently than she in her own. (If I have both those things correct, and not in the wrong book :blush: ) In short I'm beginning to believe that, indeed, there is a sadness in the foundation under Mrs. Ramsay's life, and that she might be described as having received only half a cup of living, without the other half, of genuine happiness, added in. She has material comfort, two children she is content with, a social circle of friends, but an irascible husband who is mean to James and whom she watches warily for his moodiness. It would be too much to say she was imprisoned in her circumstance, but I think not to much too say that she was beleaguered by demands upon her and that she is doing her best to cope.

Mrs. Ramsay does have doubts about the meaning of her life or whether she's as happy as she could be. Although, she never lets those fears control her life. Woolf says of Mrs. Ramsay, "But for her own part she never for a single minute regret her decision, evade difficulties, or slur over duties". This work is tiresome for her. At one point, Mrs. Ramsay refers to herself as a "sponge" for her family's emotions. Lily believes that Mr. Ramsay is killing his wife with his constant demands on her sympathy. Beleaguered is good way to describe Mrs. Ramsay.


To move on to a second thought, I think the house only reinforces that 'down' feeling. Not only does the house in the second part beautifully and poetically show the passage and debilitating effects of time, but within the structure of the book it also has a second, negative effect; it completely blots out any narrative description of the ordinary events of life going forward. Principal characters die, marriages dissolve, but only in the merest of mentions in the background, as if those events were insignificant to the narrative. In effect, the War came and plopped a big blot down on people's ordinary lives and destroyed their life's best plans. The War was all consuming and those pages in the book might as well be represented by a big black blot when it comes to the narrative of the story. Only after ten years does life begin to recover, from exactly the kitchen where it left off, with Lily now having a cup of tea in old surroundings and trying to recapture the thread.

So, more so than I thought on first reading, I think there is considerable sadness in the book, with Mrs. Ramsay at the end (of Part I) still not having conquered it, but having gained only one more temporary victory before she dies.

On reread, I think I'll be looking at the book with a completely new eye.

Are you saying it was time that destroyed the Ramsay's house? or WW I?


Quark,
As far as I know Woolf suffered for the larger part of her life from her mental disease, that is not something that just hits like a bolt from the blue. The seeds and beginnings of it are there for many years, if not all of ones life.
The degree may and does vary but is ever present.

The very fact of all the failure you point out is evidence of a sad outlook of life.
It has been many months since I read TTLH, I can only give impressions at this point, and a hopeless and depressive feeling are what I took away from it.

I don't know I'd characterize Woolf as having a "fondness for death" as you put it, but she did have an aura of inevitability of disaster about her

:goof: Ratz... I hit the wrong button!

I meant to add that originally I'd posted.... And I cannot back away from that.

I think what you're arguing is that the book is pessimistic; that the novel doesn't project a favorable impression of life. But, while I somewhat agree with that, it's a large leap from there to suggest that it favors death or suicide. It ends tragically for the Ramsays, yes. But do all tragedies promote suicide. King Lear ends sadly, but it doesn't make me want to kill myself. The Sound and the Fury ends sadly, and yet still no suicidal impulse. Are you really saying that To The Lighthouse, because it thwarts the ambitions of most of the characters, is encouraging the audience to take its own life? I don't think you are (if you are, just say so). I just think you're saying the book is pessimistic.

[Walter]

Hi Quark,
Thanks for your careful reading of my post.

1. No, my thoughts about it sounding like an arranged marriage were posted long in advance of any of the more recent posts that you mention. It was then just a feeling about marriages, based on nothing specific in the text.

2. Time eroded the house. The war overrode all other aspects of their lives that might have been worth talking about, was my thought. The description of the house provided a structural way of not talking about their lives during that period.

[plainjane]

Quark,
I don't think I ever meant to imply that the books purpose was to incite suicide, when Virgil [tongue in cheek ?] brought out the suicide card, it really sent my mind on a tangent that brought me to the conclusion that in essence Woolf's basic unhappiness with life in general colored the book drastically.


Walter wrote...../..... I think the house only reinforces that 'down' feeling. Not only does the house in the second part beautifully and poetically show the passage and debilitating effects of time, but within the structure of the book it also has a second, negative effect; it completely blots out any narrative description of the ordinary events of life going forward. Principal characters die, marriages dissolve, but only in the merest of mentions in the background, as if those events were insignificant to the narrative. Bolding above by me.
That is what struck me so forcefully. It shows a disregard for their lives, makes them as you say, insignificant, disturbing to me to say the least.

[Virgil]

I haven't been able to keep up lately but i'll try to respond to many of the points since I last posted sometime this week.

As to the suicide issue, yes i brought it up and i guess it did cause some havoc. :p :lol: When i mentioned it I was not thinking of Woolf's suicide at all. What I was saying was that based on Quark's and Plainjane's reading of the novel, one can only conclude that Woolf is advocating suicide since you guys see everything that Mrs. Ramsey does is for nought and that she is not heroic. If a fight is heroic and one loses (think of the movie Rocky in Rocky I) than the effort itself is worth it. If the fight is not heroic and one loses than it is all a waste of time, and in this case the fight is against life so one might as well not pursue life. That's why I'm saying the logical conclusion of your reading is suicide.

[Walter]

Just as a personal aside I don't think suicide is ever a logical conclusion, and related to any mood in the book, I don't think that it is either remotely suggested or even alluded to.

[Quark]

I haven't been able to keep up lately but i'll try to respond to many of the points since I last posted sometime this week.

As to the suicide issue, yes i brought it up and i guess it did cause some havoc. :p :lol: When i mentioned it I was not thinking of Woolf's suicide at all. What I was saying was that based on Quark's and Plainjane's reading of the novel, one can only conclude that Woolf is advocating suicide since you guys see everything that Mrs. Ramsey does is for nought and that she is not heroic. If a fight is heroic and one loses (think of the movie Rocky in Rocky I) than the effort itself is worth it. If the fight is not heroic and one loses than it is all a waste of time, and in this case the fight is against life so one might as well not pursue life. That's why I'm saying the logical conclusion of your reading is suicide.

Virgil, I don't think anyone is going to say that Mrs. Ramsay's ambitions were not noble. I'm not trying to slight the charity and courtesy that Mrs. Ramsay practices. Even the other characters pick up on this side of her, but there are always some doubts about it. I think my opinion of Mrs. Ramsay is actually quite similar to her daughters. After Mrs. Ramsay exercises that charity and compassion toward Tansley, her daughters express mixed feelings:


and it was only in silence, looking up from their plates, after she had spoken so severely about Charles Tansley, that her daughters, Prue, Nancy, Rose-could sport with infidel ideas which they had brewed for themselves of a life different from hers; in Paris, perhaps; a wilder life; not always taking care of some man or other; for there was in all their minds a mute questioning of deference and chivalry, of the Bank of England and the Indian Empire, of ringed fingers and lace, though to them all there was something in this of the essence of beauty, which called out the manliness in their girlish hearts, and made them, as they sat at table beneath their mother's eyes, honour her strange severity, her extreme courtesy, like a Queen's raising from the mud to wash a beggar's dirty foot, when she thus admonished them so very severely about that wretched atheist who had chased them-or, speaking accurately, been invited to stay with them-in the Isles of Skye.

The daughters, like the reader, respond to Mrs. Ramsay's behavoir with both respect and doubt. The part of her that sacrifices for her family and helps others is noble, no doubt. But, it's combined with some over self-interested goals that weaken her heroism. Originally, the argument was that Mrs. Ramsay is heroic because she brings characters together. She sees into others thoughts and soothes their inner needs. I think you brought up the part with Tansley and circus and also the dinner party. Even in these parts, though, we can see that Mrs. Ramsay is both noble and selfish. She does reach out Tansley, but why? Context is important here. Just two pages earlier she was explaining her need to become "an investigator, elucidating the social problem". Then, conveniently, Tansley exposes that he, himself, was poor. Suddenly, Tansley is part of that social problem, and Mrs. Ramsay can run to his rescue. Is this noble? Yes, she is helping people. But, it's also for herself that she's doing this, and that self-interest does change her character. I don't think we can see her as the courageous fighter for truth and justice here.

No, these traits resemble more closely the tragic hero. She has the greatness of strength and ability that the hero needs, but she also has a weakness. I brought up Ahab earlier because he is the paragon of tragic heroes; someone who represents all human ambitions. But, Ahab suffers from monomania. We can sympathize with his ambition. We all have something that we desperately want. Ahab suffers and dies because of his flaw, though. We can feel equally sympathetic towards Mrs. Ramsay. Most of us see charity and courtesy as virtues. But, Mrs. Ramsay has flaws. And, like in Moby Dick, fate punishes her flaws.

I'm not sure what relation any of this has to the Rocky movies--those were a little before my time. Well, I guess this book was a little before my time too, but I think that To The Lighthouse might have more staying power than a movie about a senseless man being repeatedly punched in the face.

[Virgil]

Virgil, I don't think anyone is going to say that Mrs. Ramsay's ambitions were not noble. I'm not trying to slight the charity and courtesy that Mrs. Ramsay practices. Even the other characters pick up on this side of her, but there are always some doubts about it. I think my opinion of Mrs. Ramsay is actually quite similar to her daughters. After Mrs. Ramsay exercises that charity and compassion toward Tansley, her daughters express mixed feelings:

What you are confusing with the attitdes of the daughters and even Lily is not whether Mrs. Ramsey is heroic but a secondary theme of changing attitudes of the next generation. I think Woolf is looking back nostalgically on Mrs. R, and Woolf identifies a post WWI moment where she feels life changed. But that doesn't mean that Mrs R's effort against life is not valiant. And yes, if you're not saying that directly you are implying that.


The daughters, like the reader, respond to Mrs. Ramsay's behavoir with both respect and doubt. The part of her that sacrifices for her family and helps others is noble, no doubt. But, it's combined with some over self-interested goals that weaken her heroism. Originally, the argument was that Mrs. Ramsay is heroic because she brings characters together. She sees into others thoughts and soothes their inner needs. I think you brought up the part with Tansley and circus and also the dinner party. Even in these parts, though, we can see that Mrs. Ramsay is both noble and selfish. She does reach out Tansley, but why? Context is important here. Just two pages earlier she was explaining her need to become "an investigator, elucidating the social problem". Then, conveniently, Tansley exposes that he, himself, was poor. Suddenly, Tansley is part of that social problem, and Mrs. Ramsay can run to his rescue. Is this noble? Yes, she is helping people. But, it's also for herself that she's doing this, and that self-interest does change her character. I don't think we can see her as the courageous fighter for truth and justice here.
Woolf is creating a three dimensional character. Of course there is self interest. All real people have self interests. I don't feel this takes anything away from Mrs Ramsey. All charitable people have a self egrandizement element to their charity. They feel good about it. What's wrong with that?


No, these traits resemble more closely the tragic hero. She has the greatness of strength and ability that the hero needs, but she also has a weakness. I brought up Ahab earlier because he is the paragon of tragic heroes; someone who represents all human ambitions. But, Ahab suffers from monomania. We can sympathize with his ambition. We all have something that we desperately want. Ahab suffers and dies because of his flaw, though. We can feel equally sympathetic towards Mrs. Ramsay. Most of us see charity and courtesy as virtues. But, Mrs. Ramsay has flaws. And, like in Moby Dick, fate punishes her flaws.
Ahab dies from trying to kill the white whale, that is following through with his monomania. How does Mrs.R die? Helping people? Soothing egos? Helping her husband? Raising eight children? Providing a dinner for people to enjoy? Thinking about James? Wanting to help the lighthouse keeper's son? You're mixing things up. Mrs. R has no relation to Ahab. Look at the structure of Moby Dick. Ahab is not the central conscousness of the work. We are looking at Ahab from the outside. You cannot have a central character such as Mrs R be the central character, endow her with noble attributes, see the bulk of the novel through her consciouness, and then only to knock her down at the end. Such a novel would be structurally flawed. That's why Ishmael exists in Moby Dick.


I'm not sure what relation any of this has to the Rocky movies--those were a little before my time. Well, I guess this book was a little before my time too, but I think that To The Lighthouse might have more staying power than a movie about a senseless man being repeatedly punched in the face.
What's relavant about Rocky I is that the form of the work is that of heroic yet losing battle.

[Janine]

Virgil and Quark,Yes, and I think, that like Rocky, you two guys should come out into the ring and shake hands.
I am so confused by now, that I don't know if Mrs. Ramsey is heroic or not. If she is most women who have to put up with a man with Mr. Ramsey's disposition probably are heroic. I think this is why they have a day called 'Mother's Day'. Not only is she heroic for putting up with Mr. R, but raising how many kids?
Did anyone look up the word hero in the dictionary? I would imagine the word would be open to many interpretations, so probably both of you are right in your individual interpretation. Like in 'Hamlet' some people might think him heroic and others may not at all.
Didn't Rocky win, Virgil, at the end of Rocky 1?

[Quark]

Alright, Janine, I think I can stop. It may be getting out of hand here. Although it pains me to have stop mid-argument. I had such a witty retort, too. Enough, though.

Instead, I think I'll ask the simple question: did people like the novel? Who were the best characters? Could you follow the stream of consciousness writing? Would you change anything?

[Virgil]

Virgil and Quark,Yes, and I think, that like Rocky, you two guys should come out into the ring and shake hands.
I am so confused by now, that I don't know if Mrs. Ramsey is heroic or not. If she is most women who have to put up with a man with Mr. Ramsey's disposition probably are heroic. I think this is why they have a day called 'Mother's Day'. Not only is she heroic for putting up with Mr. R, but raising how many kids?
Did anyone look up the word hero in the dictionary? I would imagine the word would be open to many interpretations, so probably both of you are right in your individual interpretation. Like in 'Hamlet' some people might think him heroic and others may not at all.
Didn't Rocky win, Virgil, at the end of Rocky 1?
No Rocky lost in Rocky I.



Alright, Janine, I think I can stop. It may be getting out of hand here. Although it pains me to have stop mid-argument. I had such a witty retort, too. Enough, though.

Instead, I think I'll ask the simple question: did people like the novel? Who were the best characters? Could you follow the stream of consciousness writing? Would you change anything?

:lol: Go ahead Quark, I'm not upset or anything, just forceful in my argument. I wanted to post something on the third part. But I guess not tonight.

[Quark]

:lol: Go ahead Quark, I'm not upset or anything, just forceful in my argument. I wanted to post something on the third part. But I guess not tonight.

Oh, no, it wasn't that. While there is a fine line between being challenging and being combative, I knew you were on the genial side--as usual. I just started to sense people yawn and roll their eyes at us and our debate over one word (important as it may be).

[Virgil]

Oh, no, it wasn't that. While there is a fine line between being challenging and being combative, I knew you were on the genial side--as usual. I just started to sense people yawn and roll their eyes at us and our debate over one word (important as it may be).

This is true. I think we've made our points and we just disagree. Let everyone else make up their mind. :)

[Janine]

Ok, Virgil and Quark, I am proud of both of you guys - now you are being sensible and showing mature characters and attitudes. Yeah, no more knocking about in that boxing ring. Yes, Quirk, I, for one was rolling my eyes and saying "oh no, not another post about that dang word".

Quark,I did not know what to make of Woolf's stream of consciousness style at first but this time (re-reading the book) I found I did what someone in the post suggested - I did not fight it but let the words just flow and it was truly a beautiful experience, although the 'tone' of this book did depress me a bit, sort of like the Chekhov story and Yahov. The writing in this novel was very commentable and quite elegant and I especially enjoyed the middle section with the descriptions of the decaying house. I feel it is a good novel and worth reading but I don't think it is an easy novel to discuss. I often felt quite overwhelmed trying to describe how I felt about certain aspects of the book - it is very complex and the characters the most complex (with much layering) of all. In the end they are truly as real people would be - difficult to conclusively figure out. This is part of the charm of the book and the genius as well. Personally, I like stories and films, where you keep wondering why a character acted in a certain way, or was a certain way, or wondered if you perceived him/her correctly.

[Quark]

Quark,I did not know what to make of Woolf's stream of consciousness style at first but this time (re-reading the book) I found I did what someone in the post suggested - I did not fight it but let the words just flow and it was truly a beautiful experience, although the 'tone' of this book did depress me a bit, sort of like the Chekhov story and Yahov. The writing in this novel was very commentable and quite elegant and I especially enjoyed the middle section with the descriptions of the decaying house. I feel it is a good novel and worth reading but I don't think it is an easy novel to discuss. I often felt quite overwhelmed trying to describe how I felt about certain aspects of the book - it is very complex and the characters the most complex (with much layering) of all. In the end they are truly as real people would be - difficult to conclusively figure out. This is part of the charm of the book and the genius as well. Personally, I like stories and films, where you keep wondering why a character acted in a certain way, or was a certain way, or wondered if you perceived him/her correctly.

I think Virginia Woolf may be my favorite stream of consciousness writer, now. The discussion has encouraged me to go out and get a couple of her other novels and I've been impressed. I think the middle of Mrs. Dalloway is some of the best writing I've ever read. I'm curious, though, Janine. Why did you like the middle section more than the other two? I think the writing is quite different between them; most of the book is told in a critical tone that maintains intellectual precision, but the second part deviates and becomes poetic. I actually prefer the first and third part, though, because I think that the middle section--while being very poetic--isn't as affecting as the other parts of the book. The descriptions of the house decaying seem kind of forced at time. It seemed like just words with nothing behind it. The other sections were much more powerful, I thought. For some reason, Virginia Woolf does much better with understatements in prose than effusions of poetry.

[Janine]

I think Virginia Woolf may be my favorite stream of consciousness writer, now. The discussion has encouraged me to go out and get a couple of her other novels and I've been impressed. I think the middle of Mrs. Dalloway is some of the best writing I've ever read. I'm curious, though, Janine. Why did you like the middle section more than the other two? I think the writing is quite different between them; most of the book is told in a critical tone that maintains intellectual precision, but the second part deviates and becomes poetic. I actually prefer the first and third part, though, because I think that the middle section--while being very poetic--isn't as affecting as the other parts of the book. The descriptions of the house decaying seem kind of forced at time. It seemed like just words with nothing behind it. The other sections were much more powerful, I thought. For some reason, Virginia Woolf does much better with understatements in prose than effusions of poetry.

You know Quark, perhaps I should not have made that statement. I recall that when I first got to the middle section I felt a little thrown off but I felt too it added a bit of relief from the intensity of the first section. I think you might be right that in section one and section 3 Woolf really does exhibit her best writing ability - going deeply into the minds and thoughts of the characters. The center section, with quirpy interjections about the cleaning woman, is rather humorous at times. No one can doubt it is uniquely written and very well done, but when Woolf shines brightest is definitely within her characters. I think when you read "Mrs. Dalloway", you will experience this. A friend of mine told me her favorite Woolf novel is "The Waves". I should put that one on my list. I read only two so far, but TTLH I did read twice.

So in conclusion, I would agree that the powerful aspect of Woolf's writing is definitely in the characters and their thoughts and the straight prose style. But the poetic style of in descriptions is commendable, as well. I especially like the aspects of waves and the use of this as a metaphor to the changing of peoples lives and the ebb and flow of life.

[Virgil]

I wanted to make a few posts on the last part of the novel, "The Lighthouse" since this concludes the novel. For the most part there are two narratives running in parallel here, Lily completing her painting (and through her thoughts reaching a series of epiphanies) and Mr. Ramsey, James, and Cam sailing to the lighthouse.

Let's look at Lily's first epiphany. In part III her thoughts go from Charles Tansley to Mrs. Ramsey:

Charles Tansley used to say that, she remembered, women can’t paint, can’t write. ... He sat, she remembered, working in a blaze of sun. At dinner he would sit right in the middle of the view. But after all, she reflected, there was the scene on the beach. One must remember that. It was a windy morning. They had all gone down to the beach. Mrs Ramsay sat down and wrote letters by a rock. She wrote and wrote. “Oh,” she said, looking up at something floating in the sea, “is it a lobster pot? Is it an upturned boat?” She was so short-sighted that she could not see, and then Charles Tansley became as nice as he could possibly be. He began playing ducks and drakes. They chose little flat black stones and sent them skipping over the waves. Every now and then Mrs Ramsay looked up over her spectacles and laughed at them. What they said she could not remember, but only she and Charles throwing stones and getting on very well all of a sudden and Mrs Ramsay watching them. She was highly conscious of that. Mrs Ramsay, she thought, stepping back and screwing up her eyes. (It must have altered the design a good deal when she was sitting on the step with James. There must have been a shadow.) When she thought of herself and Charles throwing ducks and drakes and of the whole scene on the beach, it seemed to depend somehow upon Mrs Ramsay sitting under the rock, with a pad on her knee, writing letters. (She wrote innumerable letters, and sometimes the wind took them and she and Charles just saved a page from the sea.) But what a power was in the human soul! she thought. That woman sitting there writing under the rock resolved everything into simplicity; made these angers, irritations fall off like old rags; she brought together this and that and then this, and so made out of that miserable silliness and spite (she and Charles squabbling, sparring, had been silly and spiteful) something—this scene on the beach for example, this moment of friendship and liking—which survived, after all these years complete, so that she dipped into it to re-fashion her memory of him, and there it stayed in the mind affecting one almost like a work of art.
Again we see above the power of Mrs Ramsey, to make something out of "that miserable silliness and spite...something—this scene on the beach for example, this moment of friendship and liking—which survived, after all these years complete." She, despite being dead now eleven years, is still the force which summons images and feelings. Lily's thoughts continue:


“Like a work of art,” she repeated, looking from her canvas to the drawing-room steps and back again. She must rest for a moment. And, resting, looking from one to the other vaguely, the old question which traversed the sky of the soul perpetually, the vast, the general question which was apt to particularise itself at such moments as these, when she released faculties that had been on the strain, stood over her, paused over her, darkened over her. What is the meaning of life? That was all—a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years. The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark; here was one. This, that, and the other; herself and Charles Tansley and the breaking wave; Mrs Ramsay bringing them together; Mrs Ramsay saying, “Life stand still here”; Mrs Ramsay making of the moment something permanent (as in another sphere Lily herself tried to make of the moment something permanent)—this was of the nature of a revelation. In the midst of chaos there was shape; this eternal passing and flowing (she looked at the clouds going and the leaves shaking) was struck into stability. Life stand still here, Mrs Ramsay said. “Mrs Ramsay! Mrs Ramsay!” she repeated. She owed it all to her.

"'Like a work of art,'" Lily says out loud, and thereby connecting Mrs. R's magic to her painting. Through Mrs. Ramsey Lily is trying to penetrate the most philosophic of questions: "What is the meaning of life? That was all—a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years. The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come." An impossible question to answer and it goes unanswered. Lily has felt throughout the novel that Mrs. R has the answer to that question. But she doesn't answer it, but here's Lily's epiphany:

Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark; here was one. This, that, and the other; herself and Charles Tansley and the breaking wave; Mrs Ramsay bringing them together; Mrs Ramsay saying, “Life stand still here”; Mrs Ramsay making of the moment something permanent (as in another sphere Lily herself tried to make of the moment something permanent)—this was of the nature of a revelation. In the midst of chaos there was shape; this eternal passing and flowing (she looked at the clouds going and the leaves shaking) was struck into stability. Life stand still here, Mrs Ramsay said. “Mrs Ramsay! Mrs Ramsay!” she repeated. She owed it all to her.
The small "daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck in the dark," those are what make life worthwhile, what makes the struggle worthy. In the midst of chaos (nature and its movement toward entropy) there is the human mind, consciousness, giving shape, providing order, creating form. Mrs R by inviting people to her home on the beach, by soothing egos, by entertaining in a dinner party while bringing people together, makes "Life stand still here," just like Lily is doing in her painting that very moment.

[Quark]

I like these quotes, Virgil. You're right that Lily and Mrs. Ramsay are connected. I don't know--maybe connected isn't the right word. Their relationship is pretty one way. Most of the novel is about Lily admiring Mrs. Ramsay. There are some parts where we see that Mrs. Ramsay likes Lily, but it never rises to the level of profound respect that Lily has for Mrs. Ramsay. Lily worships Mrs. Ramsay because she's the solution to her problems as an artist. Mrs. Ramsay has all the mastery of form that Lily wishes she could have. And, when Lily is painting, she is very much like Mrs. Ramsay. Both are trying to bring things together. Lily, though, has more difficulty with this. She puts the question to herself of how to connect this with that in her painting; and, she's stumped. She can't move forward. Mrs. Ramsay, however, is quite adept at doing this, and this easy skill draws Lily to her.

Your last observation brings nature into the discussion.



The small "daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck in the dark," those are what make life worthwhile, what makes the struggle worthy. In the midst of chaos (nature and its movement toward entropy) there is the human mind, consciousness, giving shape, providing order, creating form. Mrs R by inviting people to her home on the beach, by soothing egos, by entertaining in a dinner party while bringing people together, makes "Life stand still here," just like Lily is doing in her painting that very moment.

"Entropy" is kind of a specific concept that states that the universe is chaotic , and that it rejects human efforts to control, change, or understand it. I don't think this is really the right way to define nature in this story. You're right to suggest that the old Romantic temperament that viewed the environment as a symbol for the soul is gone in this novel. Woolf in an outpouring of metaphor narrates,

"marvel how beauty outside mirrored beauty within. Did Nature supplement what man advanced? Did she complete what he began? With equal complacence she saw his misery, condoned his meanness, and acquiesced in his torture. That dream, then, of sharing, completing, finding in solitude on the beach an answer, was but a reflection in a mirror, and the mirror itself was but the surface glassiness which forms in quiescence when the nobler powers sleep beneath?... to pace the beach was impossible; contemplation was unendurable; the mirror was broken"

Instead of an empathic, spiritual universe, the author describes the environment that is enigmatic--but not unsolvable. "Entropy" would go to far. The mirror has shattered, yes, but there is a cause. If we look earlier in the book--just one paragraph before what I just quoted--we see a naval vessel intrude upon the scene.

“There was the silent apparition of an ashen-coloured ship for instance, come, gone; there was a purplish stain on the bland surface of the sea as if something had boiled and bled, invisibly, beneath. This intrusion into a scene calculated to stir the most sublime reflections and lead to the most comfortable conclusions stayed their pacing. It was difficult blandly to overlook them; to abolish their significance in the landscape; to continue, as one walked by the sea, to marvel how beauty outside mirrored beauty within."

The ship breaks the connection that Woolf believed we once had to nature--just as WW I causes the elements to rage against each other. But, when the war is done, is the world still beyond human understanding. Read the last part of that chapter:

"Then indeed peace had come. Messages of peace breathed from the sea to the shore. Never to break its sleep any more, to lull it rather more deeply to rest, and whatever the dreamers dreamt holily, dreamt wisely, to confirm—what else was it murmuring—as Lily Briscoe laid her head on the pillow in the clean still room and heard the sea. Through the open window the voice of the beauty of the world came murmuring, too softly to hear exactly what it said—but what mattered if the meaning were plain?"

Now that WW I is over, nature is espousing peace and tranquility. But, unlike before, the message that the universe gives is obscure and hard to understand. Woolf says that nature murmurs "too softly to hear" with a meaning that isn't "plain". It isn't that the world is naturally chaotic. There is meaning and order; it's just difficult to detect.

There is a negative, counter-human influence in the novel. It's death. Mortality is both a mover of the plot and a mental centerpiece for many of the characters. It takes both Mrs. Ramsay and Andrew. It also sets a limit for what Mr. Ramsay's intellectualism and Mrs. Ramsay's politeness can hope to achieve. Virgil, I can see how you might conflate Entropy with mortality. There are long passages describing tumultuous storms followed by a decaying home. You might believe that there is some proclivity towards disorder. But, when you read closely the text that gives us these images, you'll see that there are causes. The world in To The Lighthouse is complicated but not incomprehensible.

[Virgil]

Now that WW I is over, nature is espousing peace and tranquility. But, unlike before, the message that the universe gives is obscure and hard to understand. Woolf says that nature murmurs "too softly to hear" with a meaning that isn't "plain". It isn't that the world is naturally chaotic. There is meaning and order; it's just difficult to detect.

But isn't the peace and tranqulity variable, whimsical? It comes and it goes in a chaotic manner too. And you might be able to lump human whims in there too.

I wouldn't hold Woolf to a scientific definition of entropy. I'm fairly certain she is conscious of it (she even mentions rust at the beginning of "Time Passes, and rust is a classic example of entropy) but I think she's just suggesting the power of nature to overwhelm human struggles for order, and thereby human struggles to create art.

[Quark]

But isn't the peace and tranqulity variable, whimsical? It comes and it goes in a chaotic manner too. And you might be able to lump human whims in there too.

If by variable you mean changing then yes it is. If by whimsical you mean random then no it's not. If reality were beyond understanding and fundamentally absurd, how could Lily paint? Why would Woolf point out that "The war, people said, had revived their interest in poetry"? These are human struggles to create art that succeed. In the Time Passes section, the Ramsay's house does rust and decay, and there is seemingly aimless violence in nature. But, all of the destruction and loss in that part are framed as a small part of a larger cycle. After the raging storm in the second part, Woolf poetically summarizes the previous scenes:

"Nothing it seemed could break that image, corrupt that innocence, or disturb the swaying mantle of silence which, week after week, in the empty room, wove into itself the falling cries of birds, ships hooting, the drone and hum of the fields, a dog’s bark, a man’s shout, and folded them round the house in silence. Once only a board sprang on the landing; once in the middle of the night with a roar, with a rupture, as after centuries of quiescence, a rock rends itself from the mountain and hurtles crashing into the valley, one fold of the shawl loosened and swung to and fro. Then again peace descended; and the shadow wavered; light bent to its own image in adoration on the bedroom wall; and Mrs McNab, tearing the veil of silence with hands that had stood in the wash-tub, grinding it with boots that had crunched the shingle, came as directed to open all windows, and dust the bedrooms."

The whole storm--WW I and all--are considered to be one event that happens every hundred years. Soon, peace and order are restored. But, things have changed since the storm. Reality has become more subtle and difficult to see objectively. Nature still has a purpose and a meaning; it's often referred to as a force or power. That force, though, has become complex. This leads to the need for poets and painters--like Carmichael and Lily. And, it also motivates Woolf to write. On the Chekhov thread I brought up Woolf's response to Chekhov. I think it sounds very similar to Woolf view of reality, so I'll post it here. She says, "We need a very daring and alert sense of literature to make us hear the tune, and in particular those last notes which complete the harmony".


I wouldn't hold Woolf to a scientific definition of entropy. I'm fairly certain she is conscious of it (she even mentions rust at the beginning of "Time Passes, and rust is a classic example of entropy) but I think she's just suggesting the power of nature to overwhelm human struggles for order, and thereby human struggles to create art.

The reason I keep rephrasing "Entropy" is that "Entropy" means absurdity. Nowhere is that a theme. There is loss and change as described by the second part, but this isn't a movement towards absurdity.

[Virgil]

The reason I keep rephrasing "Entropy" is that "Entropy" means absurdity. Nowhere is that a theme. There is loss and change as described by the second part, but this isn't a movement towards absurdity.

Entropy doesn't mean absurdity. It means non-order, the opposite of what an artist does.

[Quark]

Entropy doesn't mean absurdity. It means non-order, the opposite of what an artist does.

Well, I wasn't meaning absurdity as in like comic absurdity. I meant the philosophical sense; that people cannot properly understand reality because it's naturally chaotic and disordered. Like you said, Entropy means non-order, but now you have to prove that non-order is a theme.

[quasimodo1]

First law of entropy states that systems, without maintenence, devolve from a state of order to various levels of disorder, and finally to chaos.

[Jozanny]

I know this is an old thread, but I wanted to chime in and say that To The Lighthouse is the Woolf masterwork, in my estimation. Been some time since I've read it, and I am not sure where my tattered paperback from college is, and so I cannot make any detailed arguments, but it straddles fairy tale literature and psychological realism with just the right balance (unlike Orlando), and equally holds the reader suspended between humor and pathos.

If I had been around earlier I would have been able to join in the discussion without having to chase after the text!