Faced with the dodo's conundrum

I had a pretty similar feeling towards Mrs. Dalloway, I found it incredibly difficult to focus on a specific aspect of the text. I think the intensity, as well as the beauty, almost shimmer, of Woolf’s prose is disorienting (though I suppose that it is partially the intent of the whole stream of consciousness thing.) I can only offer some half-baked observations...

I was pretty fascinated with the use of details in Mrs. Dalloway. I found that the moment, that instance of stillness/suspension, sometimes was defined by details. For example, when Clarissa stands in her house (after hearing the aeroplane, oh the aeroplane), and thinks about this “exquisite moment”—she catalogues what everyone in the house is doing, and every detail seems to sharpen the moment, give it contour. It feels as if the moment allows for inspection of the details of the scene, the memory, whatever.

Other times, though, I thought that the moment was more defined by an object (often a loved, desired object). Details become an adornment, or background for the object—the fixation is with the object, not a dispersed fixation with details. When Clarissa thinks back on Sally Seton, once again, Woolf gives a list of details, but then writes, “All this was only a background for Sally.” The objects are often vague and sort of detail-less, as with the random, unknown woman Peter Walsh follows on the street, and the car of “greatness” and aeroplane in the first walks of the novel. The car only has that implied, unspecified greatness (I also was interested by the sort of equality it establishes over the people on the streets of London, maybe a comment on the Empire…in general, though, I was less interested with the arrival and interruptions of people and things associated with the British empire) and the aeroplane is even more vague, with its indistinguishable smoke letters (reader paranoia).

I didn’t get very far with this train of thought, though, because it was too hard for me to maintain a consistent thesis throughout the novel. I guess I focused my thoughts more on my favourite parts—the morning walks in the beginning of the novel, particularly Clarissa’s (I loved the way her thoughts moved in the way that it does when one window shops, that glancing sort of fleeting/absent-minded thinking), and the weird imagistic rise and fall of Woolf’s prose. Thoughts seemed to radiate out from Clarissa and radiate towards Septimus, accompanied by, maybe facilitated by? the car and the aeroplane in the sky.

I also loved the part later in the novel where Peter Walsh sits outside the hotel as evening comes out. Did you guys have a favourite part? John, this is dorky, but, I think when you go to London, you should take Mrs. Dalloway’s walk (or that of Peter, Septimus, Richard, or Elizabeth)… OR we should all go to London and take Mrs. Dalloway’s walk. Too agonizingly nerdy? Probably.

I also was wondering, though I guess this question is more to John (unless you decide to read To the Lighthouse, Claire) if you had any thoughts about Elizabeth Dalloway and Lily Briscoe. Woolf describes both characters as “oriental”, “Elizabeth, with her oriental bearing, her inscrutable mystery…”, “but her eyes were fine, Chinese, oriental…” which I found oddly resonant with Lily Briscoe’s description. I also wondered if Woolf adopted a similar attitude to both Elizabeth and Lily (she seems less condemnatory of them?)

hope you both are doing well!